From being an Abandoned who had rarely left the Hollowed Grounds, to embracing the call of adventure, to dying and being reborn first as an Ascended and then as an Ancient, Maea has gone through quite the amount of changes in her life. One thing remains common, though, in her attempts to find out just where she belongs; she’s always had a craving for knowledge which has brought her to so many places and to meet so many people here in Caido. We can’t wait to see what else is in store for her!
Congratulations, Maea!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
Ronin has been at the Dragon's Nest for a few days now; he's listened and learned, absorbing everything like a child at school, but it's not for the purpose of being the best he can, or some other contrived purpose. He wants to know about Stormbreak, and he wants to know about the Order. He remembers Dorian; he remembers the man offering his family sanctuary in Stormbreak. That mean there is a way to get to and from the city - and Ronin would like to know what it is.
Still, he's not a brute (not yet, give it time), and so he's tried to make an appointment with the man they call the Eye. A man, Ronin has learned, who sits in the highest seat of the Order. And once that appointment has been secured, he takes himself up to the Eye's office, having changed out of his training clothes into whatever has been made available to him by the dragoons. Sugar is coiled around his shoulders, her pale eyes bright as he reaches out to knock the door.
The door opens, and there stands Cian. If he's shorter than Ronin might have imagined him to be—those who hold power and influence typically taking on greater stature in our minds—the Eye doesn't seem worried about it. He rarely seems worried about much, truth be told, and Ronin will likely come to realize that soon enough for himself. "I thought perhaps we'd take a walk, seeing as you're new to the city." The Eye muses, his tone shockingly conversational as if he and Ronin were old friends.
Dressed in a waistcoat over tan trousers with a crisp white shirt beneath, Cian pulls an ornate watch from one of his pockets and quickly checks the time. Seemingly approving of whatever he sees, he raises his pale blue stare to the man with the dragon around his shoulders, and raises a brow in a silent gesture of, shall we?
11-17-2020, 06:44 PM (This post was last modified: 11-17-2020, 06:45 PM by Ronin.)
RONIN
Cian isn't what Ronin's expecting, but height is nothing to do with it - from the whispers he's heard of the man who sees all, who knows all, this conversational tone is not it. Whilst the Star hasn't realised he's been gearing up for an argument, it's evident from the flare of surprise on his face as he steps back to let the Eye exit his office. "Uh... sure," he murmurs, reaching up to scritch Sugar under the chin; the pale reptile trills a greeting to their new walking companion.
Turning to walk back the way he's come, he holds the door aside for Cian to go down the steps, following after him. Their footfalls echo off the stone walls, and Ronin's pace is easy, his hands moving to rest in his pockets. "Where would you recommend going first?" he asks slowly, shaken back into etiquette by this man of waistcoats and crisp, white shirts.
"Perhaps we'll find a blink hare for you, who has wandered into the city, eh?" Cian says to Sugar with a slight tip of his head. Whether this surprising twist to their meeting was meant to throw Ronin off his game, or if Cian's offer was genuine, the Star will never know.
Cian's movements seem nearly choreographed; not in their forethought, but in their perfection. Nothing is ever out of place, nothing is ever rushed. "Have you found your way to the Silk Houses yet?" Cian wonders as they round the stairs, leaving through the ornate entrance doors of the Tower. The day is crisp and bright, no threat of snow or the changing of seasons on the horizon quite yet.
"A what...?" Ronin asks before he can stop himself; regardless of whether she understands blink, however, Sugar definitely knows what a hare is, crooning her approval at the man heading down the stairs before them. Ronin gives the reptile a look that suggests she's being a Judas in this situation, before he hurries after Cian. The Star is the Eye's polar opposite, roguishly imperfect in his movements, and he heads out into the crisp sunshine with a breath of relief. The Tower is too big and too fancy for his liking.
"I can't say that I have. Between here and the Dragon's Nest is as far as I have been. What are the Silk Houses?" he asks, falling into step beside the other man as they head into the thick of the city. "Also, before we walk to far, I came to ask you something. It's about how the Order move around Caido."
" Blink Hares." The Eye supplies as they descend. "They'll likely make quite the satisfying snack for Sugar." And no, Ronin hadn't told Cian the name of his pale companion. "Unlike regular rabbits, these have the ability to teleport themselves short distances making them quite hard to catch. Quite fat too given their lack of exercise."
Leading the Star deep into the heart of the city, Cian nods companionably. "The Silk Houses is an area of the city, despite the name. Its...well. If the Tower is the face of Stormbreak during the day, the Silk Houses are her face at night." The words are delicately chosen, the Eye saying them almost affectionately. The streets begin to descend slowly until the pair are nearly a story or two lower than when they'd started. Bridged and walkways connect the buildings here making it feel slightly darker than it actually was. This was all part of the atmosphere of course, and as they walk, the streets around them come to life. Music is played on the corners with strange and wonderful instruments. There are peddlers of every kind, and a roving theatre group handing out tickets for an upcoming show. There are open windows that boast sweet and alluring smells with scarves of different colours hung from their balconies; a language known well to those who would use their services.
And of course, there was food.
"Had you anything like this, in the world you came from?" Cian asks as he stops at a cart. With only a few words he places an order, and soon he and Ronin are being offered slabs of slow-roasted meat, drenched in a strange but wonderful sauce, and rolled up in hot sweet bread.
Ronin knows he hasn't given Sugar's name out, but as soon as his lips part to speak again, Cian is providing more information, and the Star is left absorbing it in his wake. It's like he's in orbit around this man who walks with such assertion and confidence, and Sugar nips at his ear as if to tell him to remember Blink Hares and how fat they are. "Oi," he scolds her softly, rubbing at his earlobe.
"Her face... by night..." His brow furrows a bit - Ronin hasn't seen much of Stormbreak by night, given that he's absolutey asleep as soon as he can be so he can slip into his dreams with his husband. At least it means he's getting plenty of rest (his body, at least), and as they descend into the city and the light seems to cloud and dim, Ronin is utterly enthralled. "...We had places like this, but never... like this," he explains quietly.
It's an assault on the senses the likes of which Ronin hasn't experienced in years, and even then, the levels of casual debauchery, the sounds and smells and brightness of the colours - it dizzies him. It's almost a relief, in fact, when they stop beside the cart, and Ronin accepts the food as if it's the first morsel he's seen in years. It's no surprise, honestly, that he and Sugar start to fight over it. Demi god extraordinaire, is Ronin.
"No, I didn't think so." Cian chuckles as if taking some personal pride in the seedy underbelly of his home. And really, he does. Stormbreak is like a mare: proud and beautiful, but full of spitfire and venom. She requires care and understanding, and appreciation of her multiple personalities.
The Eye bites into the food he holds like any rogue might, and yet even in this act of barbarism he is cultured and elevated. Mumbling a few words to the merchant who cuts a strip off a rotating hunk of meat, he hands it toward the dragon, quick to pull back his fingers lest he be bitten. Cian thanks him, before nodding on down a crowded and lively side street.
"Tell me Ronin, to where can I tempt you? We both know you won't be missed at the training grounds." Not with what the demigod is capable of. "One of the pubs? A card game? Perhaps you might like to place a bet in one of the sparring rooms? Or spar yourself? There are parlours to quench any desire, fields for live music...?"
Cian is going a long way towards winning Sugar's trust, something Ronin has long thought to be all but impossible for a stranger. But she snaps up the offered meat from the merchant (snuffling at his fingers as if to purposely eye them up as treats) and offers the Eye a sweet sort of trill as a reward, leaving Ronin alone so they can both eat. The Star's eyes flick from one attraction to the next, the Silk Houses tugging at some part of him from long ago, back when the Storm Army had been a thing he was doing because he had to. Back when drinking and gambling and fighting away his evenings had been the norm.
Sparring rooms gets his attention, Ronin tilting his head and swallowing down a bite of food before responding. "Would that really be fair?" he asks with a hint of a smirk. "It would be nice to spar again. Forgive me, though - I got the impression that the Order was more..." Orderly? Ronin shrugs. Anything he wants to say would just be a nice way of saying stuffy, boring old guys with sticks up their arses. "What do you recommend for someone visiting for the first time?"
'A good point.' Cian muses dryly, though there's amusement in his pale stare. "Perhaps we could tie your hands behind your back? Make you fight blindfolded? Not let you use any magic?" He raises a brow as if to suggest that there were endless ways of neutering the Star's abilities.
"More what?" Cian wonders, already walking toward the building which at any time offered spars to spectate or enter into. "More secret meetings? Notes to be decoded?" The Eye offers Ronin a look that is shockingly transparent as he cracks a smile. "That mystique has its time and place." The alley twists and the tone turns decidedly more warm; the lights are brighter, the voices merrier, the bodies around them closing in comfortable. "I wouldn't say now is the time or place for it, though."
As for his favourite places to visit?
"Mother Molly's. The whorehouse." He doesn't dress up his description, the men and women within needing aboslutely no assistance from the Eye in that regard. "Actually, I have a bit of business there first. Do you mind if we stop in?"
"Why not give me a challenge and we'll do all three?" Ronin offers with a grin, shrugging his shoulders and finishing off his food in record time; between he and Sugar, nothing lasts very long around them. The pale reptile drapes back around his shoulders as they walk, the Star already able to hear the tell-tale shouts and the scrape of feet on stone that denotes a fighting arena. He already imagines it will be a lot rougher than what he's used to in Torchline. Less sand, less sunshine, more brutality.
Arching a brow at Cian, Ronin's smile gives him away that yes, that's exactly what he was expecting. "When an organisation like yours pops up at my house at random, it creates a certain impression," he informs him. "Forgive me for assuming you operated out of the shadows and did nothing but whisper to each other."
The blatant name dropping of the whorehouse has the expected impression, Ronin giving a double take and automatically adjusting his pace so he can follow the other man. "Go ahead," he says. "Not that I can remember the last time I was in a whorehouse."
"Against multiple opponents as well, perhaps." The Eye agrees. Indeed the arena will be decidedly less welcoming than Torchline, and yet much more clearly defined. But more on that in a moment.
"Dorian does have a flair for the dramatic." Cian's lips twist into a slightly mocking smile, much kinship as he holds for the Orator, the man can be a bit much. "But it all has its place, the whispers, the shadows." He shrugs. "When you allow reputation to do its work, it frees you up to focus on other things."
If Ronin's reaction is the desired one, the Eye gives no indication. Instead, he meanders them down a corridor that suddenly smells like honeysuckle and sex, with loud piano music falling from open windows, just like the blue silks that line the shutters. "I guarantee this is not one you'll forget." Cian murmurs with a knowing smile, as he pushes open the rather unassuming door, leading them into another world altogether.
Inside is a world ravaged by velvet, lace, silk, and creaking floorboards. There is a small seating area for guests who need time to warm up, and a bar in the corner. Several doors line the walls leading to various rooms, hallways, and even scaffolds. Men and women pass by with eyes for only each other, though there are a few nods levied at Cian. "I'll be right back." The Eye informs Ronin, before moving toward a black door with gold hardware. "Get the man a drink, won't you?" He suggests to a salaciously dressed woman tending bar. Slipping inside the room, Ronin is left to his own devices.
"Well, if you insist," Ronin murmurs, though all thoughts about the arena vanish when he is faced with the turn into the alleyway towards Mother Molly's. He's caught by the silk, the colours, the smell of sex and perfume, the tinkle of piano keys. Sugar takes off to explore (and likely to scare the fuck out of the piano player) while Ronin ducks in through the door after Cian. The Star is not the type to get embarrassed, and so rather than awkwardness, there's interest in his expression at the sight of bare legs and warm touches from couples passing by.
Swallowed up by the world that closes around them, he finds himself with a tumbler of whiskey in his hand barely a second after Cian speaks, and before Ronin can respond, the man is gone. Left to his own devices is a recipe for trouble, the Eye will learn, and Ronin is soon on his second drink, leaning casually against the bar and telling quite the story to the woman. It must be a good one, because they're both in fits of laughter by the end of it, and he reaches across to clink his glass against her own. Ronin doesn't drink alone. He insists.
"You'll have to do better than that, honeybunch." The bartender teases, easily downing the dark liquid in her glass and offering the Star a taunting look. "Another? Or is that too much for you?" She wonders already reaching for the bottle. What's her secret? Well. Her glass dilutes the alcohol within, that she might keep pace with her customers. They get shit faced, and she keeps her title as having the highest alcohol tolerance in all of Stormbreak. Thank you, Frey.
"Word on the street is that you're one'a those demi gods." Her face is heavily painted, but she isn't any less beautiful for it. Rather than having the sort of look one would shy away from, especially were you wearing white, instead she's a work of art not to be touched. Well, not there anyway. In a corsette done so tightly one might wonder how she can breathe, her dark eyes flit just behind Ronin as the duo becomes a thruple; the woman who appears is the bartender's identical twin, though her outfit is pure white, rather than black. "Is it true what they say about you?" This newcomer wonders, pulling up a stool right neck to Ronin.
