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!
"Late, but I got there in the end," Ronin agrees, and he doesn't begrudge Bandcamp his stifled giggles - they are well deserved. Adjusting the other man against him and giving an over-exaggerated sway (which is about as much dancing as he's willing to show Remi right now, and probably about as much as the musician could handle besides), he nods solemnly. "I really am," he informs him, sneaking a kiss to the corner of his mouth and following his gaze to the very comfortable Amadeus on the couch.
"Good point," he murmurs with a nod, turning towards the bed and guiding the other man over to it. "Would you like me to mess it up a bit before you lay down?" he asks, as if just this second noticing his own military precision on the sheets. They smell like lavender and vanilla beans - Remi can thank the launderette, not Ronin.
A lot's been changin' lately and I can't tell
If it's me or if it's everybody else
"Lucky for me." Remi says, and means it. Tightening his grip as Ronin begins to feign a sway, the musician tenses as his balance is already threatening to wildly overcompensate. Hitching in a breath as Ronin kisses the corner of his mouth, Remi petulantly steps on one of Hallway's feet with a grumble.
"Please." He says of the tight tucked-in corners. "I hate the feeling of getting into bed and being locked in by the sheets." Remi reveals with a dramatic shiver. 'Did you...' Flaring his nostrils and taking an overly long sniff, the musician raises a brow before sinking down heavily onto the corner of his bed. "It smells like one of those pretentious cook-ware stores." He notes, not that he minds it necessarily.
we're only human but w?'ve got hands and hearts and noses
So stop and sm?ll the fuckin' roses
Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
"You do? That's a shame - I quite like feeling as though I'm in a strait-jacket when I get into bed," Ronin says playfully. It isn't true, but he can't help but tease Remi about it. Still, he lets the other man go for a moment that he can untuck the sheets, drawing them back with a flourish for Bandcamp to be able to get comfortable. "Did I what?" he inquires with a grin. "The launderette just gave me options and I pressed buttons, okay?"
Which is all to say, I hope you like the smell of pretentious cookware stores, because Ronin can't change it now. He leaves the other man to get comfortable while he switches everything on and loads Netflix, taking off his shoes so he can come and join Remi on the bed. "How much do you want to bet that we just about get comfortable when the door goes."
A lot's been changin' lately and I can't tell
If it's me or if it's everybody else
'Guess that makes me the big spoon then, mm?' Remi wonders, already trying to imagine how he might fall asleep while simultaneously grappling Ronin at the same time. 'Okay fancy.' Remi remarks with a grin. "Hopefully there isn't a next time like this, but if you ever need, the building has a laundry room, just off of the main entrance. There's no..." Wafting the smell up to his nose, Remi frowns, unable to pinpoint it. "Vanilla? Flowers? But there are bounce sheets. They smelly like RaInY DaYs if the box is to be believed." Which it wasn't.
Remi's body feels like it's been put through the dirty cycle on the washer and then been left to dry during a hurricane. He's stiff and tense everywhere and though his bed is nothing special, right now it feels like a fucking cloud. "Well that must mean it's about to ring." The musician hums, tilting his head toward Ronin and flashing him a smile. "Come here." Said in a much softer voice, Remi inclines his head that Ronin might settle against Remi, or that Remi might settle against Ronin. It doesn't matter to him, though suddenly he very much doesn't want the mechanic to be on the other side of the bed.
we're only human but w?'ve got hands and hearts and noses
So stop and sm?ll the fuckin' roses
Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
"On my strait-jacket days, yes," he says with a mischievous nod, before smirking and giving an exaggerated shrug as if to say he can't help the level of fanciness in the launderette. "Ah, I'll trade in the flowers and the vanilla for rainy days next time, then." It would be a lie to say he doesn't find it endearing, the way Remi all but collapses into the bed, and as he's asked to join him, Ronin is heedless to resist even if it does mean going to get the door almost as soon as he gets comfortable.
He'd never expected to be climbing into bed with Bandcamp like this, the mechanic feeling hot all over suddenly, though he's still smiling as he shifts to get closer. Remi can settle against him today, given that he's been comparatively through the wars, and he fumbles for the remote so they can start to flick through the Netflix menu. "More serial killer documentaries?"
A lot's been changin' lately and I can't tell
If it's me or if it's everybody else
'And on your other days...?' Remi wonders, curious to see if they'll be swapping spooning positions the way they'll be swapping bottoming. "You are British aren't you? I thought that would have been a given." The musician chuckles.
As Ronin nears, something about his position tells Remi all he needs to know, and it's with a small amount of effort that Remi raises his head off of the bed that he might settle himself into the crook of Ronin's arm. One hand drapes across the mechanic's chest without thought as he shifts himself closer still. "I like how you feel, like this." He mumbles a touch self-consciously as his fingers splay slowly outward over Hallway's shirt. "I like how you feel almost every way, but this..." This was warm fuzzies and butterflies and the feeling of contentment that comes from hiding beneath the covers while a storm rages outside.
"What about that motorcycle show?" Remi suggests, because you know, boyfriend. "Chopped, is it called?" He hates shows like that, but given that he can hear and feel Ronin's heartbeat, Remi is suddenly quite content to watch or do just about anything so long as it involves staying just like this.
we're only human but w?'ve got hands and hearts and noses
So stop and sm?ll the fuckin' roses
Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
"On my other days I quite enjoy being big spoon," Ronin informs him easily, settling in around Remi and relaxing more than even he expects to. It doesn't stop him from hissing in a breath, though, to hear himself referred to as British, his hand fluttering to his chest as if wounded. "Irish National," he corrects, though there's none of the patrotic bite to his voice that might have been there when they were merely fuck-buddies. One day he'll teach Remi the difference, but for now he's just happy where he is.
"Good," he mumbles. "Because I'd quite like to stay like this, with you." Right now and in a thousand occasions in the future, if he gets his way. Settling down and scrolling through the menu, Ronin scoffs and shakes his head. "Nah, I get too shouty at it," he says. It's Ronin's equivalent of pointing a pudding covered spoon at Jeopardy. "Oooh, here's a compromise. A murder docuseries, based in Ireland" Tipping Remi a wink, he presses to start the episode.
A lot's been changin' lately and I can't tell
If it's me or if it's everybody else
"Is your cutlery drawer as flexible as you are?" Remi wonders, the question making little sense but already in his mind it has taken lyrical root where his unconscious will work the words over into something usable. Raising a brow, the Italian shrugs apologetically. "It's all Britain, isn't it?" He wonders ignorantly. "Or..is Britain just the main chunk, and Ireland's not part of that?" Since you know, it was it's own island. That logic made sense, despite not being right at all.
Laughing despite himself, Remi pushes at the inside of his cheek with his tongue. "Shouty. You?" He scoffs. "I think I would quite like to see that one day. Maybe when I am well enough to shout with you." Remi agrees, nodding at Ronin's choice. As the intro plays, an expectantly dark and dramatic violin solo accompanying words that flash across the screen, Remi nudges the mechanic. "So say someone broke in here right now. Are you a more hand-to-hand combat guy? Or improvised weapon?"
we're only human but w?'ve got hands and hearts and noses
So stop and sm?ll the fuckin' roses
Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
"I'm not sure how to answer that," Ronin admits with a grin. Is no good? Is yes bad? He's luckily distracted by the good old history o'Britain, shaking his head and shifting to get a little more comfortable, letting his cheek loll against Remi's curls. "Ireland is split in two," he explains. "There's Northern Ireland, and the Republic of Ireland. NI is a part of Britain, the RoI isn't." That's about as simple as he can make it without cracking open a can of war worms and bloodshed.
"Me," he agrees, raising his eyebrows as if feigning wonderment about it as well. "Sure, that sounds fun. I'll have to teach you a couple of things about motorbikes, though, so you can understand why we're shouting." Grinning and letting himself enjoy the appropriately moody atmosphere, he raises his eyebrows at Bandcamp's sudden question.
"Bold of you to assume that I am only good at one of those things," he jokes. "Hand-to-hand, though. Improvised weapons relies on there being anything around to use, and I'd never dream of throwing a shoebox filled with old milk and mandrakes at an intruder." Literally. It would literally never occur to him to do that.
A lot's been changin' lately and I can't tell
If it's me or if it's everybody else
"Split-split?" Remi wonders, tilting his chin up to try and find Ronin's gaze. "Like two separate countries, split?" He doesn't hear the this is a bloody and contentious issue subtext, and instead just assumes this must have been taught one of the days in school that he'd been high under the bleachers for, rather than being in class.
"Alright. Until then I'll just shout when you shout. Most of the time anyways. Sometimes I'll have to disagree so that you don't think I'm just agreeing with you to try and get you naked." Which, early on in the relationship as it was, Remi didn't think was going to be very difficult no matter what he did.
"But can you imagine if you did?" Remi wonders with a childlike sigh. "It would be so unexpected, you would surely catch them off guard." He points out, sounding quite pleased with this tactical suggestion. "If only someone hadn't thrown it out." Maybe that was part of why the room smelled so clean. Huh. "Well, you could throw.." Glancing around the apartment, the musician frowns. Other than instruments and furniture there was a decided lack of anything. "..the dog." Not that it would do any good.
we're only human but w?'ve got hands and hearts and noses
So stop and sm?ll the fuckin' roses
Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
"Yes, like two separate countries split. Britain and Ireland." Ronin grins, because it's honestly kind of nice to be the one to teach Remi something for a change. That, and he looks unfairly cute when he's looking up at him like that. Letting out a chuckle and nodding his agreement - that Remi can shout when he shouts, except when he wants to get him naked - he also doubts it will take very much to get him out of his clothes at this point.
"I mean... not until right this second, no. I couldn't imagine it. But now I'm thinking about it, and it probably would surprise the fuck out of any intruder." Or anyone at all ever, honestly. Scoffing (it smelled cursed and deserved to be thrown out), Ronin raises an eyebrow at Amadeus as if wondering if he'd even be able to throw the dog. "Are you saying that if there was an intruder, the dog wouldn't do anything about it apart from let himself be thrown?"
At that point, right when he's gotten very comfortable, of course, the buzzer goes and Ronin groans. "That's peetsah, so I won't be throwing anything," he says as he extracts himself.
A lot's been changin' lately and I can't tell
If it's me or if it's everybody else
"I meant the two parts of Ireland." Remi interjects.
Pulling in a breath to gather his strength, Remi leans on the arm farthest from Ronin that he might raise himself onto it. Sliding the other hand up above the other man's shoulder, the musician gently (as gently as he can with his weak muscles), drape himself across Ronin's body. "I'm saying that you jumped in through the window over there and you said he hardly even looked at you." Remi points out as he gazes down at Hallway mischievously. Never mind that his arms were shaking slightly, this was a view he very much wanted to take in.
Which is of course when the buzzer went.
"Ogni singola volta. Siamo nello show di Truman?" Remi wonders, huffing and flopping to the side that Ronin might go to the door. "Just know of all the things in this apartment you might throw at an intruder, the piano is the only one I really care about." On the couch, Amadeus let out a dog-fart of protest.
we're only human but w?'ve got hands and hearts and noses
So stop and sm?ll the fuckin' roses
Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
"No, see, because the one part of Ireland is in Britain--" Ronin tries to explain, before Bandcamp is performing a comparative feat of acrobatics, and he's distracted enough to forget about British history and geography. It's a shame that they're interrupted before the mechanic can properly let his hands run over Remi's body, though he supposes there will be time enough for that in the coming days when he starts to feel better.
"Alright, I'll give you that much," he says of the dog, grinning as he pads to the door and scoffing at the exchange between Amadeus and Remi, he raises his eyebrows over at the piano. "Lucky for you, I don't think I'd be able to throw that piano if I tried," he calls, moving to open the door and accost the delivery guy for their food.
Nudging the door shut again with his hip and tilting his head as it's echoed with a rumble of thunder from outside, Ronin carries their pizza back to bed with an air of victory about him. "It'll taste better because I ordered over the phone," he tells him.
A lot's been changin' lately and I can't tell
If it's me or if it's everybody else
They'll pick up Irish politics later Remi is sure, when he's inadvertently put his foot in his mouth over something or other. For now though, he's content to struggle to remain over the mechanic for as long as possible. Which as we all know, turns out not to be that long.
"I will believe it when I taste it." Remi says doubtfully, though already his mouth is watering and he'll tell Ronin whatever he needs to get a slice into his mouth. "Una pizza con mozzarella e salsiccia." The musician sings, nodding at the thin crust masterpiece between them. That should be easy enough to translate. "E un irlandese eccezionalmente bello." He says with a flourish indicating Ronin.
"Now, no spilling on the sheets." Remi remarks, reaching for a napkin. "I rather like the way they smell and I do not want to have to change them right away." He adds, swapping out his stern expression for a crooked smile.
we're only human but w?'ve got hands and hearts and noses
So stop and sm?ll the fuckin' roses
Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
