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!
right now everything you want is wrong & right now all your dreams are waking up
"Forbidden." Remi repeats, blinking at the word. "Much as the temptation is to say that there are who few who can forebay me from doing anything...maybe it would be good to live somewhere with more structure." Sipping in a breath, Remi shakes his head slightly. "So if...if someone, I don't know, steals from you. Hurts you. You're just..not to retaliate?" The man he'd become couldn't fathom what it would be like to turn the other cheek now.
Biting the inside of his cheek, Remi has to tug in a breath that he might have the air needed for the absurd words rattling around in the back of his throat. "Are we...getting breakfast and then going to look at houses?" It wasn't brunch, so at least there was that, but never in a million years—and especially not lately—would Remi have imagined this morning of domestic bliss for them.
Giving his husband the side-eye, Remi raises his eyebrows in an effort to look contemplative. "Okay so, Dragoons, Dragon's Nest, Sugar..." He the pause get larger and larger, before snapping his fingers. "General of the Storm?"
The Lullaby
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
"Mm, forbidden," Ronin says, with a nod to the Lullaby as if wondering what he would think about it. And it's refreshing, to watch his husband work through it in a way that the Star can't say he's ever seen him do before. It's not that he doesn't think that Remi is capable of toeing the line, but it is certainly a new experience for Ronin to watch him do so. "Oh, of course not," he says, resisting the urge to give the other man a gentle nudge if only because it feels too soon.
"There is a place in the Tower, called Judgement's Needle. I imagine all wrong-doers are taken there to receive justice. Or... they just go to the Silk Houses, where the blanket of pacifism doesn't reach." The fighting pits are evidence of that much. Together, they trail out of the Dragon's Nest and onto quiet and cobbled streets. Birds sing, and the pathways are quiet but for a few people walking to their work.
Ronin gives Remi's hand a gentle squeeze; a lingering touch against fingers that are already entwined. "Yes, I suppose we are..."
And then his husband goes and ruins it in the most perfect way possible. Scoffing out a laugh that's loud and surprised enough to have a couple of people turning to look, the Star very much wants to give Remi a shove rather than a nudge now. "I will be the General of the Storm, just for you," he says. "But no. I am a MiGhTy dRaGoN."
right now everything you want is wrong & right now all your dreams are waking up
Remi frowns, already not liking the sound of Judgement's Needle. It sounded both judgemental and ineffective. However as Ronin mentions the Silk Houses, Remi is forced to exhale out the sour taste that suddenly springs up in the back of his throat. He doesn't swallow it the way he normally would, though, which is something. "Talk of the Silk Houses...It isn't mine to share, but in the interest of understanding more, Finn worked somewhere there as a prostitute, and...I'd just as soon rather not think of it." Because as much as the alchemist was trying to turn over a new leaf, thinking of Finn in compromising sexual positions was about the last possible place his mind needed to go.
And so he sent it somewhere else. "The fighting pits. Me versus you. Who do you think would win?" Remi was arguably the stronger, but Ronin was the trained soldier. If Stormbreak ever needed some entertainment, it might be an interesting way to acure some favours..
But then Ronin is laughing, and Remi doesn't try and ignore the warm rush of relief and joy that settles inside of him. "The Mighty Dragon." He repeats, in as flat a tone as he can muster despite the smile on his lips. "I hope you don't expect me to ever call you that." Remi adds, very much feeling the tension between respecting the physical boundaries needed between them, and wanting to jostle himself against Ronin for good measure.
The Lullaby
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Raising his eyebrows to hear the vague, yet telling details about Finn from his husband, Ronin's shoulders relax suddenly as things seem to fall into place. Even moments from seasons ago make more sense, and he offers Remi an easy nod. "Thats entirely fair. Everything in Stormbreak is well signposted, at least, so you shouldn't stumble there by accident." Knowing where the traps may lie is half the battle, after all. Ronin glances down into winding, sleepy streets as they cross a bridge towards the Plaza, and on their right the Tower stretches up and up towards the sky.
"Hmm...? Oh, well. If we were fighting for real, I have no idea," he says with an honest and roguish little grin. "Although I think you would probably have the edge. You're able to push me out of my body, and you are much more at home in your shifts than I am." The unspoken suggestion, of course, is that they could just as easily choose to take a fall, depending on the sort of show they want to put on.
Ronin doesn't try to stop the smug grin that beams across his face to hear Remi repeat himself, and if there's a little bit of a swagger in his step, so be it. "Oh of course not," he all but croons. "I expect you to call me General of the Storm."
The Plaza opens up before them out of nowhere, it seems, and its tranquility makes the place a quiet sort of sanctum that threatens, at any moment, to burst with life. A nearby stall brings with it the smell of coffee and sausages, and Ronin gestures as if to ask his husband if that would do. "Make one sausage joke. I dare you."
right now everything you want is wrong & right now all your dreams are waking up
'What do you mean for real? What if we're fighting for...I don't know, fun, then. Does that change your answer?" Remi nods along at that, not even thinking about the staging of it. "Seeing as you'd heal half of the crowd in trying to hurt me, I imagine you'd be more of a fan-favourite than you probably already are."
It takes everything in Remi not to twist his foot out so that Ronin trips over it while he's strutting along. It's only half because of the physical contact it would require, and mostly because Ronin really did deserve this. It was years in the making, if not in this world, then in Northaven. Still, the alchemist snorts and rolls his eyes, shooting the Star, oh wait i'm sorry, The GenErAl Of THe StOrm, MiGhTieSt Of DrAgoNs, a look. "We'll see."
The smell already has Remi's mouth-watering as Ronin gestures to the cart. "A sausage joke? Me? I'm insulted you would even think I'd ruin this moment by pointing out that not five minutes after agreeing sex was a bandaid, you've orchestrated a way to see me put a shaft of meat into my mouth." Tutting under his breath, Remi turns to the merchant. "Two coffees, and do you have any way I can slice up the sausage into really small pieces?" He flashes the man an apologetic smile. "I have sensitive teeth."
The Lullaby
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
"Of course it changes my answer. If we are fighting for fun then I expect one of my many witticisms would cause you to burst out laughing, and that's when I would get a cheap shot or two in." Ronin sounds remarkably reasonable about all of this, and he even tuts Remi's fan-favourite theory. "But you see, if we are fighting for fun then I wouldn't see you as an enemy either, so I would probably undo my own hard work. I'm afraid we are either built to tousle bare knuckled, or we are better allies than we are enemies."
And instantly the Star flushes all the way up to the tips of his ears to think of bare-anything when it comes to Remi. As they approach the breakfast stall and the other man pointedly does and doesn't make sausage jokes, Ronin is already thinking of rippling muscles beaded with sweat, graceful, brutal movements in the sand of the fighting pits and the feel of hot skin beneath his palms. It's a difficult scene to draw himself away from, and Ronin finds himself staring blankly at the stall owner.
"Yeah, me too," he mumbles in the end, his voice nowhere near level. The cook, having very much heard shaft of meat along with everything else, is hiding his laughter as he complies, offering out each man a delicately cut up sausage in a small paper tray, along with a couple of slices of hot buttered toast. Coffee comes next, steaming and sweetened with cream and sugar, and Ronin has to resist the urge to scald his tongue just to untie it.
right now everything you want is wrong & right now all your dreams are waking up
"But if it was just for fun, why would I force myself to fake laugh at one of your jokes?" Remi wonders, having the nerve to look puzzled. Quickly the facade breaks, and Remi snorts a laugh. "Speak for yourself. My magic isn't biased. Though, if it was for fun, I'd likely slip into your body and make you do all sorts of ridiculous things. I'm sure the old why are you hitting yourself routine would get a few laughs." The humour seemed low brow enough in the pits that the alchemist probably wasn't wrong.
But of course thoughts of slipping into Ronin lead his mind down a similar path to his husbands, and Remi too has to blink away images of his hands over scarred and tattooed skin, taut and golden, and the strange sensation that accompanies hiding himself away in the spaces between Ronin's ribs.
"Thank you so much." Remi says politely, bowing from the waist as he reaches out to accept the food. Quickly Remi shovels some of Ronin's sausage into his own paper-tray, while giving the merchant a wink. "He's got a bad stomach." He explains in a low voice, before patting his stomach with one hand and cringing to underscore why it was Remi needed more of the food.
"mmm? Absolutely." Remi agrees brightly, making the mistake Ronin didn't, and sipping his coffee far too soon.
The Lullaby
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Remi has the nerve to look puzzled and Ronin puts on his best offended expression, though in all honesty they have both been far too hurt lately that even pretending at it threatens to darken his mood back into what ifs and I wonders. So he lets his expression clear to something more neutral, and tilts his head at the Lullaby. "Would you want to fight me?" he asks, since they're trying out this whole talking about stuff thing. "In jest or seriously. Is it something you've considered...?"
They pause to consider each other naked and sweaty, and to collect their breakfast, and Ronin can do little more than let his jaw drop as his husband steals his food. "I see," he says curtly as they meander away from the stall, "so you do want to fight me." Grumbling and stabbing all of the remaining sausage onto his fork and shovelling it into his mouth, Ronin makes sure that no further theft can take place.
And his plump cheeks are accompanied by a shit eating grin as Remi sips his coffee too soon, Ronin only hoping that the other man doesn't drop his tray in his surprise. He chews thoughtfully as they take to the cobbles, shaded by dapples of sunlight and the awnings of various businesses preparing to open for the day. Not all of the establishments are occupied, of course, and Ronin nods across the way at a vacant building nestled between what looks like a butcher's and a florist. "House," he says, helpfully.
right now everything you want is wrong & right now all your dreams are waking up
'I've never considered it before, no. I mean..we've sparred, before LongNight last year, but..' Well that was the closest they'd ever come to a proper fight, and even then it had been all too easy to overpower Ronin with emotional and mental imagery he couldn't retaliate against. "I can't tell if I actually want to fight you, or if I just want it as an excuse to be near you." The alchemist admits with a small laugh. "I do also worry what it might do if you..can't beat me." He adds with a far less amused tone, offering Ronin a conflicted smile.
"Excuse me sir, I think you'll find that there's no violence allowed here." And, because it's them, and he can't help it even though it's been all of an hour trying to be good, he adds in a low voice: "Justice will have to be served later."
They eat in silence for a moment, the pair of them likely stewing in their own inner negotiations about what is and isn't appropriate just now, when Ronin directs their attention across the street. "You sound like a man learning another language by practicing his nouns.." The alchemist says with a laugh, before stepping across the street to go and investigate.
If there isn't an Order Realtor, why shouldn't they help themselves?
The Lullaby
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Chewing on some of his toast now, Ronin's smile is partially hidden around crust and butter, but the way he ducks his head in a nod tells of his agreement. "I can definitely understand that," he says softly, holding out his toast for the other man to take a bite if he likes. Ronin is well aware that Remi has his own breakfast to enjoy, but the Lullaby is also the only person to whom the Star will willingly give his food. That, and perhaps this is yet another small moment of intimacy without resorting to sex.
"I think I'd be interested in sparring with you again. I suppose you'd never know whether I was pulling out all of the stops, would you? So if you win, maybe you just win that round." And maybe it's an excuse to have his arms around Remi. So be it.
Inhaling a quick breath to hear the other man speak so - justice, indeed - Ronin takes a quick slurp of his coffee and partially regrets it (but not entirely - it's good, and he needs to wake up a bit more). Deciding to leave that one hanging lest he demand justice sooner, they cross the square to the vacant building. "The worst part is I wasn't even using the correct noun," Ronin says with a chuckle, peering in through the windows.
"Looks like an apartment upstairs. But this is a shop." He peers around, spotting a small sign in the bottom of the window. "Here we go. If we want to see it, there's a name and an address to contact." His smile is a little cheeky as he gazes back at Remi. "Or we could cheat and sneak in, and contact them later."
03-08-2021, 10:45 PM (This post was last modified: 03-08-2021, 10:59 PM by Odd.)
right now everything you want is wrong & right now all your dreams are waking up
Listen. If he'll willingly give his food, what's the matter with having it taken by the same person? Honestly, Ronin. Remi, doing his best to try and make taking a bite of the Star's toast seem at all sexual, ends up inhaling a good amount of the crust which leaves him choking momentarily as he's forced to down his hot coffee to clear the crumbs in his throat. "-anks-" He manages through a wheeze, forcing air in before coughing it back out again.
Ronin's way around his concern is a good one, and once Remi can breathe again, he nods in emphatic agreement. They're married and can touch each other anytime they want, but the alchemist would be lying if he said there wasn't something enticing about finding ways to break their own rules.
"That's an F for you, then." Though Remi doesn't elaborate as to what that F might stand for.
Having not yet thought much more about Ronin's suggestion that he start another guild here in Stormbreak, it isn't until his hand is on the knob—which turns, instantly granting them access—that the idea starts to really develop. Flashing Ronin a smile that says the door was open, it's a sign, Remi enters behind his husband. There is what looks to be a counter in one of the corners made of unfinished wood. And though there are no windows on the sides (because of the other apartments) or the ceiling (again, because of the other apartments), the massive window in the front lets plenty of light pour in.
'Hmm..' Running his finger along the windowsill and then plucking at a bit of wallpaper that has come away from the wall, the alchemist turns, offering the Star a rather shy smile. 'Do you remember all the things we used to 'sell' out of that wagon when we first arrived in Torchline?'
The Lullaby
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Remi succeeds, if that's what he's trying to do, in not making the theft of the toast at all sexual, and Ronin watches his partner with no small amount of concern. "The fact that you just failed, somehow, to eat bread, is simultaneously terrifying and adorable," he remarks, trying and failing to keep a straight face and taking another, more measured sip of his coffee. "F for fanks. You're very welcome." He sniffs haughtily, then digs in to more toast.
Ronin has finished the little breakfast he has left and is folding the paper tray into an origami nightmare by the time his husband is not-exactly-breaking-and-entering, and his surprise at Remi's audacity is dwarfed by the shock that the shop is simply left open. "Well that doesn't seem safe," he mutters, as unimpressed as the Lullaby is delighted as he follows him inside.
Within, the sounds of the square (quiet and muted as they were regardless) are all shut out. It's just he, Remi, the warm light flooding the shop and the dust that's settled on everything. Ronin walks, leaving visible prints, and he's examining a spiral staircase in the corner of the shop when Remi speaks; the stairs, presumably, lead up into the apartment. Glancing back to the other man, his shy smile is nonetheless contagious.
"I do," he says. "I specialised in manta crystals and their meat. You carved things out of bone, and made decorations and charms. We used to trade for food, and books for you to read in the sun."
right now everything you want is wrong & right now all your dreams are waking up
"Listen—" Remi says, trying to hide how much he wants to wheeze. "Its been a long time since anyone has bothered to feed me anything. Longer still since I've had bread." Both poor defences, but the alchemist is already too distracted by the shape of his husband's eyebrows over the rim of his coffee cup to do much better.
"Or, it means it's incredibly safe." Remi counters. "Besides, the little house you visited me in when we first met didn't have a lock, and it was..." Okay, it wasn't perfectly safe given that Ronin had been stabbed right outside, but it was "..fine." Giving Ronin a look of you poor displaced noble, you, Remi continues to let his eyes look past the dust motes softly floating in the morning sun, and seeing what this space might one day be.
It's quite easy to imagine, actually.
"You painted and braided rope for fishing nets, and I wooed you with facts." Remi's smile is wide and boyish for a moment, as if the sunlight falling upon them now was that same Torchline sun. It fades by degrees as something occurs to the alchemist, but it doesn't disappear entirely. "You know, I never thought I'd be able to look back on that time with anything other than despair. But now.." It would always hurt, to think of those days because of how tightly they were knotted with memories of Aoife. But at least thoughts of sand and stolen wagons were slightly less burried beneath the rest of it.
The Lullaby
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
"It was fine," Ronin repeats, very much looking the part of disgruntled noble now as he leans against the spiral staircase, raising his eyebrows across at Remi. "If I still had the scar to show it, I'd try to argue with you. But I feel that it wouldn't change your mind anyway," he says, letting the remark about not having been fed bread go for the time being. Mainly because Ronin has changed that now, at least.
Remi looks around the shop and Ronin is peering up the stairs, as if imagining what the apartment might hold for them. They are both looking to carve something for themselves in this space, that much is clear, that the quiet peace that seems to lay in the golden sunlight and the rumble of their voices is not something the Star thinks he has experienced in years.
Scoffing, he turns back to Remi and flashes him a lopsided grin. "Well, you know a good fact gets me hot under the collar," he murmurs, finally stepping away from the stairs to meander around the shop again. He nods to his husband, his gaze lifting briefly to offer a much sweeter smile. "Now it feels like something worth missing, compared to what we've been through since."
