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!
"No!" She turns a darker shade of red at his question, still defensive, not sure if she should be relieved or offended that he's making a joke out of this. Her brows furrow with visible confusion when he states it's because he doesn't really look like his dad, but then she realizes he misunderstood her question.
She would interrupt him to confront the other part of what he said, but the more she lets it go, the less and less confident she is in drawing more attention to it. She wasn't ready for it even when he said it, and he was being so casual about it, they'd probably be on two totally different pages - again. Plus, she doesn't mind hearing things from his perspective to at least get some sort of clarity out of this.
Milo's hand reaches for hers and she breathes out a ragged sigh of relief as he pulls her in. His touch is warm and it's the one thing that can soothe her worries right now. So she throws herself into it, flinging her arms around his midsection and nuzzling into his shirt.
"I've never been with someone this long, Milo," she admits, lifting her chin enough so that her words aren't muffled against him, "I don't really know what I'm supposed or not supposed to do, I'm just trying to go off what I saw from my parents, trying not to fuck up this one, good thing in my life," she squeezes her hands around his waist gently. Truthfully there are a lot of good things in her life right now, and she's grateful for all of them, but he's set apart from the rest. "Even then, I fucked up. And you still want me. I don't deserve you..."
His question is one she's not sure she wants to answer, for fear of how it might effect him. Would it hurt him if he knew? Probably not... At this point, it seems like it really doesn't bother him at all. So she separates them enough to look at him, taking a moment to search his gaze for underlying emotion, and then answers honestly, "Her name's Maeve... she works at the Halenani. Not- not that I went there! We met on the docks, she needed something from the smugglers." That red flush works up into her cheeks again, wholly uncomfortable in this situation. It's bad enough she's talking about her feelings, now this.
The way her skin flushes with the defense has him only smiling more. But he continues and he tugs her in against him, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and arms, tucking her in close against his chest. His lips press a soft kiss to her crown of hair. And when her admission comes in, he presses his cheek gently to her head until her chin is lifting. His head tilts back, to peer at her as soon as she manages to peer up at him. “Don’ think there’s much y’can do t’make me not want ya, ‘Relia.” He offers her, a tattooed shoulder shrugging. “Even killin’ someone… Guess if they deserved it ‘nuff.” Another shrug and a huff of laughter leaving him at the realization that he’d freaked out earlier thinking that she had.
How ironic, wasn’t it?
“’case ya didn’t realize it, ‘m a pretty big fan’a ya.” He assures her, his hand slipping underneath her chin to caress her jaw gently, his calloused thumb brushing against her cheek. And he listens for when he mentions who it was she’d kissed, a crooked and almost mischievous grin crossing his face. “Oh, Maeve? Makes sense.” He chimes with another snort of amusement. “Nev’r kissed ‘er m’self but I’ve seen ‘er around.” A shrug given.
After all, before Aurelia, Milo had spent many nights drinking and spending far too many favors in the Halenani. He’d have been blind to not recognize or put names to faces.
She feels at a loss as she looks up at his face, observing the way he smiles down at her in spite of how guilty she... kind of still feels. It's hard for her to let the idea go that she'd done something to wrong him, feels like she should be receiving more backlash for it. But his warm gaze pulls her out of her head and the words he says draw her lips into a soft pout.
"Nope, definitely don't deserve you," she says with finality, feeling his laughter reverberate against her through his chest. Her hands relax in their grip around his back. It's wonderfully relieving that she doesn't have to fight to keep him here by her side.
She watches with confused confliction as he makes light of who it was she'd kissed. "I... guess..." she manages, shoulders slumping down. But her hands weave their way up to reach across his own jawline, searching his gaze with concern. "It really doesn't bother you," she realizes, seeing no hidden anger or sadness, "so we're okay? We're still...?" Well, they hadn't put much of a label on it, so her words trail away in silent question.
“I think yer too hard on yerself, Aurelia.” He offers her with a soft shrug once his laughter subsides. Her arms find their place around his back and his sink easily around her shoulders, keeping her in and flashing her a bright pale smile in response, shifting the subject to whom had captured Aurelia’s attention enough for a kiss.
The realization of it being Maeve, however, has that amused grin forming back on his face, his hand stroking gently along her cheek as she reaches up to caress his. And he nuzzles his cheek into her hand, paired with the soft scratch of his five-o-clock shadow, smirking lightly as he nods and offers all of himself to her seeking gaze. “It doesn’t. So long as ‘m still th’one y’want. I don’ care.” There’s a quiet request lingering in the words.
A request that says that she could do whatever she wanted, so long as she didn’t leave him.
“Yer still mine if that’s what yer wonderin’.” He offers her softly, tilting his head to kiss her palm now from where it sits. “’n I’m still yers. Though I guess it means y’can’t get mad if I kiss someone else, huh?” He taunts her, playfully of course, but the jest is made with the hidden attempt of feeling it out and seeing what she thought, whether it was a road that went both ways.
He's probably right. Most of the time her own doubts are self-inflicted, wondering if what she's doing is enough - or if it ever will be. That dark feeling lingers in the motions that cast her toward a better life, towards doing more than is perhaps needed of her. It makes itself known whenever she falls short, tearing down any true confidence she musters in what little time there is between each mistake.
So it's relieving that this doesn't need be counted among those marks against herself. Comforting warmth spreads through her as he leans into her hand, that pain in her eyes gently subdued by his carefree nature. He's something she does need - almost desperately. Enough that she'd do anything to keep him, for as long as he still wants her.
"You are the one I want," her fingertips trace through the edges of his hair. It's a silent promise to his silent request. She might find attraction in other people, or at least in Maeve, but she'd always want him more, so much more. He'd never have to compete, not with anything. "No one else even comes close."
When he calls her his, that is when she finally softens up enough to smile. At least a little, especially when he moves to plant a kiss to her palm.
Then he turns it around on her, though not in any way she would've expected. Her lips stiffen and her hand draws back. Reluctance might be tangible at this point, and there's no hiding her reaction now. But she sighs, forcing down the rise of jealousy she feels. She eyes him again, relaxing, "All that really matters to me is that you're happy, Milo. And I can't always be around - or enough, so... I'd get it, if you did," her shoulders stiffen a little though, "but if someone tries to take you from me, I'll kill 'em."
Her fingertips run along the edge of his fiery hair and he softens with it, that amused smile turning into something more genuine at her response. “Th’ same goes fer ya t’me.” He informs her, reaching up with his hand to run through her own dark hair, softly and gently as he rakes his fingertips through it. He calls her his, and likewise, he is hers, and he hopes that she understands that.
There’s little that would keep Milo entirely away from Aurelia, and even then he’d probably just want some sort of explanation. That made it the easiest, really.
His head tilts to press a kiss to her palm, to question if the road went both ways, and when the answer is met with a sigh, his smile turns crooked and boyish in amusement. “Easy, tigress.” He murmurs to her softly, huffing a quiet laugh. “I don’t think I will. But if somethin’ came up like what happened t’ya, I jus’ wanted t’make sure I wasn’t gonna be in the doghouse.” He flashes her a wink, before he’s leaning down to press a kiss to her lips softly, gently, trying to accompany the sentiment with the softness of his lips.
"Good," she breathes out, relaxing deeper into his touch as he brushes her curls with his fingers. That is, until he questions if she's fine with it the other way around, and she has to take a moment to filter her response.
His amusement isn't matched, endearing as he looks and as much as she wants to be able to reflect that characteristic smile. She's finding more difficulty with this but, again, she's trying not to ruin a good thing. That's the main focus. If he's fine with them seeing other people, then so is she - and she has to admit that she already proved why that's a better arrangement for their relationship.
Milo moves in to kiss her and she has to put all of her attention to that, nothing but raw emotion in the way she draws up into it. At the end of the day, that's what she wants the most; to feel how soft he is against her mouth, how addictive he tastes, that familiar rush of breath being taken away.
With a soft 'tsk' of her lips as she just barely pulls away, she reminds him humorously, "You haven't left the doghouse yet anyway," she tips her head to the side and looks up at him, up from his mouth, "I'm still not over you coming with us on the Ark." She lets out another, ragged sigh and casually rolls her eyes away, but there's a slight smile on her lips. Part of her thinks it might, actually.. be good. So long as everything doesn't go to shit.
The kiss is gentle at first, a nice little spark that has him relaxing and melting into it, nestled in between her and the counter that sits behind him. But it’s over too soon, as it usually was, and he huffs a soft sigh as she breaks the kiss, only to peer up at him rather cheekily in his mind. His lips quirk into a smirk, briefly, before he feigns some sort of hurt – bronze eyes widening in his surprise, red brows raising in denial. “Oy, why’s that?” He chimes, barking a laugh as soon as she finally answers.
His hands find their spot along her sides now, traveling to her hips as he cocks his head to her. “Listen, it’ll be fine. Think’ve it this way.” He leans in again to press a kiss to her lips, breaking it off quite suddenly and traveling to her jaw, then to her neck – quiet little promises hidden in the kisses he leaves behind, before he withdraws quite smug. “Get t’do this in the meantime. Rather than waitin’ months fer ya t’get back.” He leaves it wide open for her to decide how she wants to take it – if it’s just the closeness of them or something more.
03-06-2021, 07:41 PM (This post was last modified: 03-06-2021, 09:49 PM by Aurelia.)
like a thief in the night, you crept into my mind
Her head follows his own with its movements, nose tilting to brush his, hips reacting to his touch, keeping in tandem with him. She's enraptured. Even if everything else clouds in around them, his light is enough to break through anything that troubles her. And she wants nothing more than to prove that. She can't think of any better way to make things up to him.
So a series of kisses accompanies his prompting words and she's a willing subject to his affections. Eyes close and lips part in a soft, relieved sigh that billows over him. Her skin is hot to the touch even through her clothes, blemished by tension and nerves and want and an underlying fire - all at the same time.
Her eyes open at his words, but there's something else in their depths this time, something warmer and brighter than her insecurities.
"Mmmh, but imagine how much you'd miss me," she teases in a very seductive tone, pressing in her hips against his.
Its followed by a wave of the rest of her, giving him all she has to offer. "How bad you would want me?" Her voice is low as her breasts press against his chest, her waist softening against his, hands hooking around the nape of his neck. She blinks up at him with a gentle, amorous smile. The next words are practically a whisper but she sneaks them out anyway, "Could you even stand it?"
He loves the fact that he can draw this reaction out of her, loves the fact that she leans into his affections and love like she’s starved. It breathes hope into him, that he’d always be that for her regardless of whatever came for them. He pulls away briefly when her eyes open, a smug smirk tugging on his face as he tilts his head to her, a lock of red hair falling across his eyes.
And then she flips it entirely.
Her hips press against his and he sucks in a near silent breath, watching her as she flaunts before him and against him. “No.” He answers her simply, tongue running along his lower lip as the bronze in his gaze smolders. “I couldn’t. ‘n then I’d prolly be spendin’ m’time in the Halenani wishin’ everyone was you.” He can’t help but to keep that smirk there, hands rising along her waist and her sides before traveling back down to the outside of her hips, pressing his against hers again. “’n then when y’got back y’wouldn’t be able t’do anything but stay in bed with me for th’foreseeable future.” He leans in and presses another kiss to her jaw, to the corner of her lips, teasing and taunting just as she taunts him.
That lock of red hair falls forward, drawing her attention away from the burning in his eyes. But for only a heartbeat.
She pushes up against him with a single-minded intention, feeling the way his body reacts to hers, the way his muscles and breath and warmth and-- just, everything reacted to her touch. It creates a friction that she can't resist tempting further, to bury herself in his bedsheets.
Her cheek reddens from the sudden coyness that invades her smile, "None of them would love you the same as I do anyway." One of her hands reaches up to tuck back that stray lock of hair, though there's not much point at the rate things are going. The way she says the words, she tries her best to be casual but there's an underlying depth to that little moment, to that admittance.
At his promise of being kept in his bed, her brows raise with pleasant surprise. "Oh really?" She almost pulls back to give him a curious look, but as he leans in to touch his lips to her skin, she sinks into it. "Now I definitely can't let you come with me..." she teases back, minute laughter building up to the surface. But as she melts into his kiss, she suddenly changes her mind, "To be honest, I don't even know what I'd do without you around anymore, Milo. Wonder what I'm missing... Go back to being hopeless?" She lets out a soft laugh and presses her hand to the side of his face, turning her head to look at him again. Her smile and laughter is gone as she does, though, replaced by sincerity.
She moves the lock of red from his eyes and his bronze gaze meets her pale green ones with an amusement that lingers for the truth she’s admitted. “Mm, yeah. None of ‘em could.” He considers, equally as coy, letting the admission hang in the air as his hands roam along her, offering up another tentative option before his lips reach her.
He has enough sense to pull away, smirking and triumphant — if not a bit deflated internally at what she says. She sparks up the brutal honesty that he loves her for but it leaves Milo in a bit of a lurch as he goes to pull away, to tuck sea breeze curled hair from her face. “I think we’d both be miserable.” He admits, smiling against the hand to his cheek, turning his head to press a soft kiss to her wrist.
“’n I dunno about you but… I don’t wanna b’miserable again.” She’d seen how he was, how low he had gotten, drinking through meetings and plans for the Ark, there only because of appearances but not fully there.
03-08-2021, 01:20 AM (This post was last modified: 03-08-2021, 01:20 AM by Aurelia.)
like a thief in the night, you crept into my mind
It's the vote of confidence she needs, honestly, to know that he knows. Even if, at first, it had intimidated her, made her trepidate, made her wonder... did she love him? The answer's pretty simple to her, though. It's all kind of happening faster than she can comprehend, and maybe that will be cause for concern later... but for now, she falls into moments like these with Milo, the only one who can really even create them for her. Isn't that indication enough?
His lips press in tenderly against the pulse along her wrist and she lets out a short, quick breath in response. She had seen him, before.. Is this version of him something she truly should owe to their relationship? It makes her pause for a moment, because before now all of her comments about asking him what he'd do without her, they were jokes. They were ways to poke fun and casually see if she meant anything to him. But did she really mean as much to him as he did to her?
It's overwhelming, surely, but she can at least agree with him right now - and she doesn't ever want him to be miserable. That's a thought that forges a dark pit in her stomach.
"And you don't have to be," she murmurs in promise, pulling him down and arching the tips of her toes to lean over him, into his lips. It's a deep kiss, it has to be, in order to drown out everything else. The doubts and tribulations - that'll no doubt storm through her mind at some point or another - they fall to the wayside. She needs him, and she knows it.
