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!
It’s a temporary trapping, of course, because Sunjata doesn’t plan on staying long. His hand remains on the door, keeping it closed, focused on that and trying to get Ronin to calm down that when the fist comes flying at his jaw, well, it hits. And while Ronin might not have his powers, might be fairly hungover, he’s still fucking strong (hello 40STR). It hits his jaw and he stumbles a bit, reaching up to cradle it with his free hand, his other gripping the doorframe to keep from completely falling over.
“Fuck—” He recovers just in time with a hiss leaving him, his partially healed split lip cracking open again with the taste and feel of warm blood in his mouth. The clothes are shed as he walks to the shower and Sunjata focuses on picking them up once he’s tended to his jaw that pulses and throbs with pain, grabbing spare clothes that are clean he thinks might fit Ronin while he’s gone, for the Star to come back to. And in the meantime, once Ronin returns, he’ll find Sunjata sunk into the couch again, a cloth to his lip that’s tinged in red, a bottle of something strong on the table and two glasses.
we'll break our own hearts so that someone else can't
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
The shower feels good in a way that makes Ronin almost guilty about it, and Sunjata will have plenty of time to clean himself up (and clean up after the Star, sorry) while he's away. And when he does return, it's in a cloud of steam with skin lightly pink from the heat of the water. The scars shine out on Ronin's skin, his damp, dark hair plastered to his forehead, and whilst his body has benefitted greatly from the time under the hot water, his mental edges are still very frayed.
He doesn't even expect Sunjata to still be there, let alone nursing his split lip and sitting with drinks at the ready, and Ronin grumbles a note of appreciation and irritation both. "Sorry." It's a muttered and raspy apology, the Star slouching onto the couch again and pouring them both a drink. "I don't want to talk about it any more, if it's all the same to you."
He keeps the rag against his lip when he hears the dull padding of Ronin’s return, and it’s that which has his gaze flicking up to the Star, fresh and clean. He withdraws the rag to nod his head toward the edge of the couch where clean clothes sat, a small peace offering of sorts. “Picked out some clothes for you. Hopefully they fit.” He offers while Ronin slouches in the couch beside him.
The drinks are poured out and Sunjata dabs at his split lip again, seeing that it’s quit bleeding for now, and he replaces holding the bloody rag with the glass of alcohol. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry too.” He murmurs around a swollen lip, lifting the glass to Ronin’s to try and clink it against the edge, a silent vow that he wouldn’t say anything else. “I picked this one because it’s one of the first we drank together, hidden away from someone who’s drained my liquor cabinets.” He offers, peering down at the liquor, recalling Ronin with those giant crabs in a net at the Hanged Man, and how certain Sunjata was that the Dark Star would kick his ass for reasons even he can’t recall.
we'll break our own hearts so that someone else can't
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
"No chance if they're yours, spider-arms," Ronin mumbles; the words are filled with all of the usual humour, but the tone is lack-lustre at best. Still, it's all the thanks he can give for the clothes, Ronin finishing pouring them a drink and clinking his glass against Sunjata's before taking a very (very) generous drink. That done, he sets the glass back down and shifts to get up, the towel pooling at his feet. He pulls on the clothes without much in the way of preamble, and soon Ronin is pushing up the sleeves of a soft grey sweater and slouching to sit back down.
"It's good," he says of the liquor, though however strong the drink might be, however comfortable the couch, it doesn't make Ronin feel any less raw. "Gods, I'm so tired," he all but whispers, rubbing at aching eyes and huffing out a sigh. "You don't have to babysit me, you must have so much to do. I'll be a'right here - won't do anything stupid."
“Spider arms?” He repeats, airing on the safest topic at present as he extends his arm to look at it. Sure, his limbs are long, but he hadn’t thought himself to be spindly. But that’s beside the point as Ronin dresses and gets comfortable, as the clinking of their glasses fills the air, and Sunjata settles in the couch when Ronin returns.
A shrug is given to the Star, the Flood peering down into his glass before he takes another long sip. “I’m not babysitting. I just wanted to check in on you.” He says quietly, trying to avoid diving into that conversation. “Hotaru’s unicorn fixed my wing so I needed to stretch it out anyway.” He finally glances back up toward Ronin, an edge of a softer smile on his lips. He props his legs up on the coffee table and settles in, the glass set on the table and his arm swung along the back of the couch.
we'll break our own hearts so that someone else can't
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
"Am I wrong?" Ronin tugs his sleeve down over his hand and flaps the sweater at Sunjata, as if to demonstrate that the man beside him is very long limbed, if not spindly as he was perhaps suggesting. Shoving the sleeve back up, Ronin also takes another gulp of his drink, relishing the sting and burn of the alcohol and letting out a fluttering sort of sigh. "Whatever," he mutters, not believing his explanations but appreciating them nonetheless. "Oh, it's healed? That's good." The platitudes are the only thing he can offer, in current circumstances. But he is glad.
As Sunjata gets comfortable, Ronin doesn't truly believe he's capable of doing the same. But his friend doesn't look as though he's going anywhere, and so - knocking back the rest of his drink and setting the glass down - the Star slumps promptly to the side, using the Flood's lap as a pillow. "Don't make this weird," he mutters, like he hasn't just been the one to do just that.
The flailing of extra cloth on the sweater does spark an easier smile to Sunjata’s face, a slight shrug given in response. “I guess not but… Spiders.” His lip feathers in distaste, before he shakes his head and settles in again. There’s a low hum of agreement about his wings, tucked away for now while Ronin works to settle in. What he doesn’t expect is for the Star to shift and use his lap as a pillow. But Sunjata is nothing but flexible, offering a huff of a laugh to Ronin’s words.
“Me? Making things weird?” He asks, reaching down with his hand to give Ronin’s shoulder a squeeze. He does manage to partially shift one wing out, the Pegasus one that he can drape over Ronin in a makeshift blanket, moving to tuck the Star in. He pulls out a book off the end table, one that he’d leafed through on multiple times. “Try and get some sleep Ronin.” He rumbles.
we'll break our own hearts so that someone else can't
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
Ronin grumbles something incoherent as if to say that if anyone could make things weird, it's Sunjata, but honestly, with his face buried in the Flood's lap, it's dark and quiet and he can try to ignore the horror show his life has become for a while. The alcohol helps a great deal too, of course, and he hums out a sigh and shifts only when he feels something covering him. Smirking, however fleetingly, as he learns it's a feathered wing, his eyes slip shut in time to hear Sunjata speak.
"Yeah, yeah," he mumbles, like the other man is sending him to bed early and this isn't entirely Ronin's own choice. It takes some time before the Star even begins to relax, though, but when sleep finally does come to seize him, he's boneless against the couch and against his friend, snoring softly into the room.
