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!
There isn't any light to hide from here. LongNight was good for that. You could slink through the darkness without worry of people actually caring what you were doing. Not that they cared normally, but LongNight brought a new level of disinterest outside of parties, drinks, and pleasures of the flesh. Which was perfect for Maeve. Shady dealings aren't something people generally want noticed and she definitely doesn't want to be noticed.
Maeve adjusts the hood over her head, shielding her face from the faint firelight that reached the docks. Her eyes shift, landing on each dark alcove in search for Aurelia. The smuggler was finally able to procure what she needed. She spots a figure tucked against some crates and slows her steps, "Do you always skulk in the dark?" Maeve teases, keeping her voice light despite the nerves swirling in her belly.
when you are not fed love on a silver spoon you learn to lick it off of knives
02-27-2021, 06:01 PM (This post was last modified: 02-27-2021, 06:04 PM by Aurelia.)
AURELIA
and my hands aren't clean maybe they never will be
Aurelia's fingers fidget absently with the ring in her pocket, careful to avoid its hidden capsule, wondering what sort of things this person gets up to that they might need something like it. She waits by a pile of crates, cigarette in her free hand. For all intents and purposes, she looks like just another Torchliner minding their own fuckin' business. Passersby are given furtive, somewhat curious glances, but none of them seem to be the one. She was told they would be a woman, but... not much else, unfortunately.
So it's only when a woman approaches her that she looks up from her smoke. A soft smile ghosts along one end of her lips. "Only sometimes," an attempt at taking the comment in stride. She stands up to her full height, crosses her arms, and gives the other woman an obvious once-over.
"Is there something I can help you with?" There's a slight edge to her tone. It's a test, of sorts.
Be pretty shit if you offered paid-for goods to just anyone. She pulls another drag from her smoke, pretending that her interest is only mild. Suppose the ring might make sense... the lady's small, slender, doesn't look very strong. Something like this might be an ace up her sleeve in a sticky situation. But Aurelia makes no comment of the ring, not yet.
but they can still carry you home when you're ready to sleep
Maeve spares a quick glance around, seeing no one paying them any mind and if they were, they have quickly fucked right off. She lowers her hood, raising her chin in that defiant way she adopts when she's trying to fight off her uncertainty. Maeve doesn't often leave the safe walls of the brothel. Sometimes on errands for the Madame or to do a bit of shopping, but there is a reason she stays there. People can't hurt her and she is, unfortunately, fairly easily hurt. Her small frame leaves something to be desired in the strength department. Her wit, charm, and looks are her weapons of choice.
Except sometimes a sharp tongue isn't enough to keep the monsters at bay. People think that the only monsters are the ones the swim through the deep or prowl through the world beyond Torchline, but people are monsters too. Maeve knows this. So she thought it best to... prepare. Just incase. So she made a request. A simple little favor. One of the other girls had claimed to know someone who was good at getting things. So Maeve sent a letter and some coin to the unknown individual knowing full well that she could be getting played.
"I'm looking for something, you see. I was told that this was the place to find things,' Maeve starts, taking a small step forward until she's close enough that her features are lit by the dim glow of the stranger's cigarette. She looks up at her from beneath her lashes, licking her lips before letting the corners tug up into a faint smile, "You wouldn't mind helping a girl out, would you?"
when you are not fed love on a silver spoon you learn to lick it off of knives
and my hands aren't clean maybe they never will be
Aurelia's not one for seeing through people she doesn't know very well, so the air of skin-deep confidence Maeve presents is wholly convincing to her. She takes a moment to admire it. For someone of this woman's caliber, this is a pretty shady hour to simply be roaming around, approaching strangers.
So she is looking for something. Aurelia turns to better face her, gaze hovering over the features of her small, slender face and arresting eyes that reflect the color of Aurelia's own. She's pretty. An unimportant, irrelevant mental note, but one Aurelia is a bit stunned into making all the same. There's even a slight flush that drifts over her cheeks. "Depends..." she almost loses her line of thought, but catches herself and plays it off coolly, "depends on what you're looking for."
Aurelia's glance is subtle as it takes in the dash of a tongue over full lips. "Maybe," she smiles and leans against a nearby post, being sure to meet this woman's gaze from now on, "what's your poison?" A question you might hear a bartender ask, but this one serves a different purpose. She's almost certain this is the customer, but she doesn't mind dragging it out a little...
but they can still carry you home when you're ready to sleep
There are few things Maeve likes to consider herself good at. Fucking and talking are pretty high on that list. The act of subtlety is as well. That's why she doesn't miss the way Aurealia's eyes dip to her lips. It's also why she lets her teeth sink into the tender flesh of her bottom lip as she takes another step forward, sharing the small space with the other woman. There is less than an arms length between them now and she has to tilt her head back slightly to look up at the smuggler. She's close enough now she can see the barely there flush on her cheeks. So she likes what she sees then? Something Maeve can agree with.
It isn't often she gets women in her bed, but it is always a treat when she does. Especially ones like her. Tall, tan, and a little rough. Still pretty, though. With bright eyes and sharp features. She doesn't let herself get distracted even as the woman's eyes continue to look her over and she flashes a smile that softens her features, but is no less roguish than the rest of her.
"Poison. Quite literally," she huffs a laugh, the sound barely there as it pushes past her lips. Maeve reaches up to tuck a bit of hair behind her ear. "Is that something you can help me with? Surely you understand that a girl like me needs a way to protect herself?"
when you are not fed love on a silver spoon you learn to lick it off of knives
and my hands aren't clean maybe they never will be
Aurelia's brows tilt upward when she bites her lip, offering an ever-so-slight tilt of her head as she eyes it again. She almost feels taunted when her personal space is compromised, close enough to touch the other woman if she wanted to reach out. She doesn't move away, though, even if a prickling combination of flushed heat and unease stiffens her back.
Roguish smiles have a way of suckering Aurelia, though. Seriously, it's a weird pattern. But her own broadens enough to show her teeth as she watches the girl laugh, eyes suddenly very keen to observe the softer mannerisms. In spite of herself. "Well, you're in luck," she says, voice lighter, "there's a poison for everyone, miss...?" There's a tangible trailing off as she hopes for a name.
This is when she takes a gentle step forward, holding out her lit cigarette in offering. "Which do you prefer?"
but they can still carry you home when you're ready to sleep
And just like that... she has her. She can see it in the way Aurelia's smile grows and her eyes brighten. Maeve returns the expression with a sweet smile of her own; still playing a bit coy as she holds her gaze. "Maeve. You can call me Maeve if that suits you. If not... Well, there are lots of things people call me. I'm sure we could find something you like," another giggle trails at the end of her sentence. She's playing now. Something that isn't hard for her to do, but seems extra easy at the moment. Gods, she's missed actually flirting with women. She should do it more. "And what should I call you?" She asks sweetly.
And when the hand extends with the cigarette it is all to easy to lift her own hand. However, she doesn't take it from her grasp. Instead slender, pale fingers wrap around her wrist as she brings the filter to her lips. Maeve leans forward to delicately take it between plush lips, eyes fluttering closed as she takes a slow drag from the cigarette. She looks up at her from beneath her lashes, not releasing her wrist as she blows out the smoke. Only when her lungs are empty, a slight burn left in the wake of the smoke, does she release her wrist. Not after letting her thumb brush across her pulse first, though.
"In this case... Something unassuming that I can keep on my person. Do you have anything like that?"
when you are not fed love on a silver spoon you learn to lick it off of knives
and my hands aren't clean maybe they never will be
"I like Maeve," she says decidedly, silently cursing herself afterward, blinking to supress a sudden burst of inner turmoil, as if it matters. I'm an idiot.
But her gaze can't seem to choose whether it wants to meet her eyes or watch as her lips move, and she's inwardly berrating herself for that, too. She shouldn't feel or act this way with anyone who isn't Milo... but at the same time, she's never had to deal with this specific kind of issue. Therefore, she doesn't know how to handle it. So, obviously, that means she makes it worse.
"My name is Aurelia," she answers, trying to be simple and a little more professional.
She does not at all expect Maeve to reach out and grab her by the wrist. At first, her muscles tense and her expression flashes with panic - but she relaxes with a soft sigh when she sees she's not being played. Nope, definitely not used to this. Her skin reddens around Maeve's fingers. She'll feel a rise in Aurelia's pulse as the smuggler watches her turn a cigarette into a work of art.
With a furrow of her brow when Maeve lets go, Aurelia quickly hoists the cigarette between her lips and reaches out to snatch Maeve's hand. Maybe a little more rough than she intends. Not to worry, though...
The ring makes its appearance at last. Aurelia slides it onto one of Maeve's delicate fingers and lifts her brows expectantly. "Look at that," her lips quirk around the cigarette, "a perfect fit. As if it were made just for you." She suddenly feels a lot more self-conscious about what she just did than she had while she did it, and the physical contact. So she slowly lets go, feeling completely awkward.
but they can still carry you home when you're ready to sleep
"Aurelia... Pretty. I like it." And she does like it. Imagines it sounds nice when it's being moaned or whispered against her tan skin. They're wrapped up in the darkness. Only the fain light from Aurelia's cigarette to provide any light. It's so easy to do things in the dark. Which is why Maeve feels so bold. Sure, she does well in the light. Under soft glowing candles and filtered sunlight that finds its way into her room at the brothel. In the dark... In the dark she thrives. It's easier to give in to your darkest desires when you don't have to see yourself.
Maeve's eyes go wide when Aurelia suddenly seizes her hand and she gasps in surprise, lips parting for a moment. Of course, the smuggler does nothing to harm her. Instead she's slipping the ring she requested onto her finger and it feels like a proposal that would happen in another life. It's not, but it still makes her heart flutter as Aurelia holds onto her hand only to drop it a moment later. Maeve admires the silver ring on her finger, humming softly and unable to resist the urge to tease her. "A proposal already? Goodness, Aurelia... At least take a girl to dinner first." She giggles, a pretty flush coloring her cheeks as she takes another step forward, bottom lip back between her teeth.
She cocks her head to the side, leaning against the post and into her space all at the same time as she holds her gaze. Maeve reaches up and fingers a curl, brushing it away from her cheek before she lowers her hand to pluck the cigarette from between the woman's lips and bring it back to her own. "Thank you for getting me this..."
when you are not fed love on a silver spoon you learn to lick it off of knives
and my hands aren't clean maybe they never will be
Aurelia lets out a mumbled, nervous laugh at the tease, but makes no attempt to respond. She shouldn't, anyway. Instead she busies another hit from her cigarette, still set to her mouth, and breathes it out in one hovering cloud.
That's it, then. This is over. They can go their separate ways; she can forget this ever happened and avoid Maeve like the plague. In truth, she's not sure if that plan is as foolproof as it sounds in her head. Something about this mysterious woman who appeared in the dead of Longnight makes her want to know more. Where is she from? What does she do?
But Maeve doesn't seem so eager to leave. And if Aurelia truly is, why are her feet still planted firmly to the spot? Even when she leans in over the post, so close that Aurelia dares to dip her gaze down her low-cut shirt. A hand reaches for her and, by now, Aurelia knows the intention behind it is good, at least, so she doesn't instinctively flinch away.
She swallows a lump in her throat. Smoke from the cigarette Maeve's now holding curls around her nose as she leans in a little. In spite of everything else, a flirtatious edge spikes low tones, "And what are you going to give me?"
but they can still carry you home when you're ready to sleep
Now that one exchange is done, they can start working on another one. One that Maeve would be the provider for. After all, she's the one who sells sex. Who lends herself out to those who need company. It's her job. Maeve watches her eyes dip down to her scant cleavage and she preens under the attention. Oh how she loves attention. Maeve takes a slow draw from the cigarette, letting her free hand come up and brush up her arm lightly.
Her touch is barely a whisper. Meant to draw her in. Maybe put her a little more on edge. To make things a little more precarious. Her lips curl into a smirk and she brings the cigarette back up to Aurelia's lips, holding it between her fingers so the smuggler can take a drag. "I can give you all sorts of things... What do you want, hm? What fantasy is swirling in that head of yours?" She drawls, leaning into her so she's almost pressed against the other woman. Close enough to feel her body heat even with the breeze coming off of the ocean.
Maeve lets her fingers trail across the skin of her arm, finding her fingers and taking her hand, pulling her a hair closer. She licks her lips, still holding the cigarette for Aurelia as she gazes up at her.
when you are not fed love on a silver spoon you learn to lick it off of knives
and my hands aren't clean maybe they never will be
Maeve's touch is seemingly harmless, but there's definitely an edge and Aurelia is currently toeing it. The cigarette is offered back to her and Aurelia pointedly flashes her canines as she bites the filter, taking it back. But that's not the sort of poison she wants anymore. Casually, she discards it, gaze stuck to Maeve's lips the whole time.
Dangerous. This is dangerous. Her mind is churning, but not just with fantasies of Maeve - which are a bit on the dirty side - but fantasies of Milo's reaction to this. If she's honest, she doesn't know how he'd feel about it, and that's what makes this such a real struggle. It's not like she's doing this to hurt him, but it could... and if there's even a chance that it would, then she couldn't.
... Could she?
It's a rush when she feels Maeve's small frame press up against her own, feeling the soft fabrics of her sleeves that push over the chill gathered by ocean air. It's warm, and her lips look soft, and she's staring up at her with sweet expectancy.
Before she can stop, Aurelia reaches up with firm fingers to steady Maeve's jawline upwards. The moment is catching her, and maybe she'll regret this later. Maybe not. But for now... "Just one.. little.. thing," she murmurs in a final answer, gaze fluttering down to her mouth. With nothing left to say, she moves in to press a warm kiss into those tantalizing lips. Her other hand, which had been limp in Maeve's, travels up to tuck in against the small of her back.
but they can still carry you home when you're ready to sleep
The moment of hesitation lingers between them. Heavy and almost oppressively pushing into their space. Maeve watches as Aurelia seems to war with herself and she knows that look. It's the same look that everyone who is unsure about giving in gets. That moment in time that they worry that what they want is wrong. That they are making a mistake. That they shouldn't be there. It only ever lasts for a second. An inhale and an exhale before they're falling. Before they let go and suddenly decide to take what they want. Consequences be damned.
Maeve thinks that maybe Aurelia is stronger than the others. That she is going to pull away. The flash of her teeth seeming more like a warning despite the way the sight of them makes her stomach twist with anticipation. She likes playing with fire and she has a feeling that Aurelia burns hot.
The cigarette is suddenly discarded and there are warm, calloused fingers finding her jaw. Her lips part, pupils constricting further as the smuggler tilts her face up towards her own. The words are warm. Curling around her spine and setting her pulse to racing. It's a kiss. A simple press of lips. Warm and sweet and faintly tasting of cigarettes and salt. Then a hand is pressing to the small of her back, drawing her closer, making her arch. A soft noise presses into Aurelia's mouth as her lips part, a peek of tongue coming out to trace her bottom lip as Maeve's hand finds the woman's hip.
She's not sure how long she stays there. Aurelia's hand on her jaw as Maeve presses up on her tip toes to keep the distance between them closed. Eventually, her lungs start to burn and she desperately needs to take a breath of air before her head starts to spin more than it already is.
when you are not fed love on a silver spoon you learn to lick it off of knives
and my hands aren't clean maybe they never will be
If Aurelia wants anything more, she doesn't know how to say it. Or if she does, the words are strangled in a heart that's too loyal to consider anything more than a kiss. Ironic as that is to say.
It is playing with fire, but Aurelia's flames run deep and burn bright. Maybe she's dangerous too. Suddenly feeling emboldened and unbridled by Maeve's little moan and wandering tongue, she parts her lips. But only so she can sink those same sharp teeth - the ones that flashed a warning mere moments prior - into Maeve's bottom lip. She does so with a disciplined intensity that might leave it swollen long after the kiss is over. It's a thought that leaves her satisfied even when Maeve has to pull back.
Aurelia lets her go and steps back, opening her gaze to observe the state of things. There's little regret in her expression as it stands, but there is a certain pang of guilt she feels. It will absolutely fester... but later.
She offers a crooked smile and leans on the post using one of her hands, glancing up and down at Maeve with a hazy look in her eyes. "So, Maeve..." she'll make no further mention of the kiss, though, instead asking, "who do you need a ring like that for?" She tips her nose down towards the hand it's on. Her boots skid over the ground as she shifts her stance and puffs out her chest a little, "Someone giving you trouble?"
but they can still carry you home when you're ready to sleep
