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!
All the things yet to come are the things that have passed
Maeve quietly slips into the shrine well past midnight, darkness shrouding her as she carries herself and her offering into the space. With care she uncovers the fruit cobbler that Locke helped her to make earlier that evening. A mixture of summer berries in a sweet sauce, gooey and warm for the herald she wishes to speak with tonight. After casting a quick glance around the space, Maeve ensures there are no stray citizens wandering through should they get an eyeful of something she's not intending to share with them. She tugs the loose dress over her head, letting it fall onto the ground in a crumpled heap before stepping forward, completely bare.
She takes a breath, "Frey, if you would be so kind, I'd like to speak with you about the Halenani. I need help. I want to take care of those that you charged Phoebe with years ago. The same people she has passed to me and I would be grateful for your aide in doing so." Maeve starts, waiting for a response as goosebumps prickle across her skin from the still chill air that comes in the evenings despite the shift into Longheat.
Like the old enough hands, like the breaking of glass
Frey's voice is like a kaleidoscope of tones, not yet settling on any one wavelength just yet. On their back in a bough of a tree just above Maeve, the herald glances down with a coy stare in her direction. Naked, as they always are, the Madame will find that their body is in constant flux until it lands on the perfect combination of features that most aptly represent her sexual preferences and desires. A tall man with grey eyes and horns, perhaps? Their mere presence alone inspires feelings of lust in any who are near, and as their eyes rake over Maeve's naked body, the Madame will feel their gaze as if it's tangible.
05-04-2021, 05:46 PM (This post was last modified: 05-04-2021, 06:09 PM by Maeve.)
All the things yet to come are the things that have passed
Maeve should have known what to expect when they appeared. That sudden spike of lust making the air electric and causing her breath to catch in her throat. She swallows thickly, avoiding looking up until she simply can't anymore at the feeling of their eyes raking down her body as if it was their fingers running over her skin instead. Green eyes finally settle on the herald where they lounge in the tree above her. Dark horns spiraling from short curls and grey eyes that are unmistakable. No. Not grey. Hazel. It's a small difference, but it matters. There is a pang in her chest, but she ignores it. Fairly easily considering the other sensations the herald evokes in her.
"Even still, I'm grateful you're willing to speak with me." She starts, voice breathier than it might be typically as her cheeks flush, "The Halenani was destroyed in the monsoons and I want to rebuild it. Bigger this time so we might house more than before. There are still many who don't have a safe place and I want to change that." Maeve explains, fidgeting as she speaks, thighs pressing together despite herself.
Like the old enough hands, like the breaking of glass
The herald shrugs off her gratitude with a lazy rise of their shoulders. "That sounds very much like the sort of thing someone in your position might do." Frey replies in a low and rich voice. "Are you going to tell me about the rest of what you plan to do with your days green-eyes? Or does this have a point?"
Raising a well-muscled leg into the air, Frey slowly begins to run their fingers from their half to the inside of their thigh. Their nails dig into their own flesh leaving raised trails that Maeve will feel just as if the deity was touching her instead of themself.
All the things yet to come are the things that have passed
It was hard to be irritated when the aura that came off of Frey was so charged. She shivers, licking her lips as her eyes flutter closed and it's hard not to fidget at the sensations tickling over her nerves. Specifically the inside of her thighs, pulling a soft sound from her throat, catching between her teeth before pushing out in a muffled moan. Maeve draws in a sharp breath, "I'd like assistance in the endeavor. Be it with obtaining materials or in another way. Would you be willing to help me with that please?"
Of course, she knows that Frey could help her. That they were more than capable of it. It was just a matter if they would do it or not. The Madame hopes that they will. They had before and these were their people. They had sent Phoebe to Torchline to take care of them and now it was her job. Surely that meant something?
Like the old enough hands, like the breaking of glass
'I'm sure you'd like a lot of things, sweet lips." The god replies with a drawl. "But you've plenty of hands who would eagerly help you. Plenty of customers who might lend their talents for future services." Licking their own lips, they reach off of the tree branch where the pie brought as an offering suddenly lifts off of the ground. Sticking their fingers directly into it, they pull up a piece and plop it noisily onto their tongue.
"I applaud your choice of occupation little flower, but I am a god. Your pretty nipples might sway the residents of Torchline to help you with your chore list, but not me."
05-07-2021, 05:52 PM (This post was last modified: 05-07-2021, 05:58 PM by Maeve.)
All the things yet to come are the things that have passed
Her lips press into a thin line and she bites her tongue to keep from getting herself into any trouble. The god had helped Phoebe before. Why not her? Maeve swallows down the irritation, watching as the herald lifts the cobbler, dropping a sticky sweet dollop onto their tongue. "I understand... I just thought that since you helped before you might help again." She says, keeping her voice nice and level, being sure not to let any of her annoyance come through.
"I'll handle it myself. Hopefully I can make something you'll be pleased with." Maeve bows her head and makes to stand after reaching for her dress with the intentions of slipping it back on. It didn't go how she thought it would, but she wasn't going to be deterred. The Madame was more than willing to put the work in herself.
~FIN~
Like the old enough hands, like the breaking of glass
