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!
Isla doesn't know what it is about Torchline and the sea, but since her outing with Remi into The Deep (because it had felt like more than a regular deep), she's been drawn back again and again. Tonight is no different. It's late - past midnight, easily - and the Hale Ka'aila has its sandbar and glass cathedral revealed for now. Isla is free to leave her clothes there and swim to her heart's content beneath the moonlight, enjoying the way the water glides against her body, the way her senses stretch and reach for everything.
With no need to breathe and no way to feel the cold or the heat other than her sensors informing her of such, Isla is remarkably at ease out in the deep water. It's almost a shame to return, in fact, but in the end it's a necessity more than a desire. So she wades out of the water to grab up the fluffy towel she's left with her clothing, closing her eyes to listen to the roar of the water as she dries herself off. If there's such a thing as paradise, Isla thinks she might just have found it.
// every mistake, a reason to run, but a good soldier marches on knowing the worst may be still yet to come //
He’s made it to Torchline, of course, waiting until the sun goes down and it’s safe for him to indulge in the ocean strolls that he’d planned on doing. A book is tucked under his arm, the metal one precisely, and he’s just looking for the perfect spot to sit and enjoy the ocean waves this time of night. He thinks he’s found a decent spot, spying some clothes and a towel from someone that’s already decided it was a good place too —
But before he has a chance to answer, the person rising from the ocean is one, familiar. And two? Completely naked. He’s quietly grateful for the immediate closing of her eyes so he can compose himself and not simply stare. So he finds himself coming to a stop, looking down the beach, clearing his throat before sheepishly glancing back at her. “Didn’t know you planned a trip too. Miss me bothering you that much already?” He manages a soft laugh with that.
Isla is lost in the sway of the waves and the rush of the distant ocean, and a smile touches to her lips as she pats at her face and hair with lazy touches of the towel. Of course, this leaves her completely exposed everywhere else, and as a voice nearby clears their throat she almost jumps clean out of her skin. "Oh-- I'm sorry, I-- oh gods, Varus?" It's with a dawning horror that she scrambles to cover herself up, the towel wrapped clumsily (but successfully, at least) around her as she tries to angle herself so he sees less, somehow.
But when it's a choice between bare ass and bare front, even if they are technically covered by now, she knows her preference. "How long have you been standing there?" she asks in a voice that's about an octave higher than before. "I didn't think anyone would be out here."
// every mistake, a reason to run, but a good soldier marches on knowing the worst may be still yet to come //
She jumps and it’s with a bright amusement that leaks into his smile, into the airy laugh that leaves him as she realizes it’s him and he tears his sheepish gaze back to down the beach and away from her curves and bared skin glittering in the dark and moonlight like they might be diamonds along her skin. “Don’t be sorry.” Shrugging, he looks down at his metal hand while she covers herself up, and when she finally does and the question is aired, only then does he glance back to her to ensure that she’s fully covered up.
He’s quietly glad for the Ascension in how it hides the flush that’s definitely there in the silvery moonlight, washed away by ascension and hue. “Not long. I was trying to find a place to read and you walked out of the water.” He pauses before a bark of laughter leaves him and he holds his hands up, palm toward her in a motion of innocence. “Neither did I! And yet there you were, like you owned the sea.” Not that he was complaining, of course. She was quite the vision, after all.
It's strange, the way Varus is both helping and not, and if he's flushing then he's got nothing on the moonlight that silvers Isla's cheeks and trickles down her neck onto her collarbones and chest. The indignant look on her face that's almost a smile shows her deliberation as to whether she believes his story, but then for all his flirtation there's really no way he could have known she was here. So, letting out an entirely unnecessary sigh, she nods to him.
"Hardly owning the sea, come on," she says with a quiet laugh, her blush growing more intense. "I came out here a little while back and I enjoyed it. It's a lot different, to swim when you don't need to breathe." Her voice takes on a faraway quality, a soft smile spreading across her face before she remembers herself. "How is your trip going so far, anyway?" she asks. Lame, Isla. Laaaaame.
// every mistake, a reason to run, but a good soldier marches on knowing the worst may be still yet to come //
He doesn’t care if she believes him or not, because he definitely knows he’s just stumbled across her. Whether it was fate shoving them together into awkward situations, he doesn’t know. All he knows is they’re here in paradise instead of the infirmary and truthfully, she looks great for getting a break from it all. “Or what, you’ll prove me wrong?” He can’t help the teasing tone that slips from his lips as he works to regain himself, his gaze brighter than it was when they parted last.
“It is different. But it’s nice to be able to go wherever the waves take you and not have to worry about drowning.” There’s a certain freedom in it, the fear of the undertow disappearing with surprising ease. “Trip is going well so far. A few things have changed but the view is still just as stunning as always.” A crookedly fanged smirk crosses his face. “Are you planning on going for another swim or did you have other plans?”
His schedules pretty wide open if she wants company.
"How in Caido would I do that?" Isla scoffs to him, clutching the towel a bit closer, though she's already drying off in the balmy night air. Still, he's got a good point about the swimming, and she smiles back out at the waves with a nod. "I suppose our only worry is getting lost," she says. "Wouldn't want to be stranded out there without knowing which way will take us back to land."
Then he's asking if she wants to take another swim and she almost considers it, were it not for the fact that she'd be getting naked again. And they are not at that level of friendship(?) yet. So instead, Isla the unflappable goes ahead and flaps again. "Ever played sand darts?" she asks, before laughing at her own awkwardness. "Sorry, that sounds stupid."
// every mistake, a reason to run, but a good soldier marches on knowing the worst may be still yet to come //
“Dunno. Maybe you’ll go in the ocean and flop around like a fish just to prove you don’t own the sea.” He quips back quickly, airing a chuckle that settles momentarily as he’s explaining the way they don’t need to fear the water so much. A softer edged smile grows toward her as he considers her own points, nodding and humming his agreement. “Guess you just have to hope you don’t get lost and eaten by a ghost whale.” What a terrible way to go that would be, even for an Ascended.
Her suggestion is met with the raise of his brow, smirk growing more crooked and playful. “It doesn’t sound stupid. I, haven’t played in three hundred years, so I’d love to.” He steps toward her, quite aware at just how bare she is and how his skin still remains somewhat flushed in the moonlight just as hers is, and he goes to set the book down beside her things. “Here, I’ll turn around so you can get dressed.” He offers, turning away from her and stares into the far off jungle trees as his arms fold across his chest now, his back to her.
"Don't fish live in the sea? If anyone owns it, they do," Isla points out, if only so she can give a little banter back and not seem like such a ferocious nerd. Still, she sobers somewhat at the mere thought of being stuck in the belly of a ghostwhale, her nose wrinkling. "Well now I really don't want to go swimming any more." Not without a swimming buddy, anyway - and right now is evidently not the time.
It feels like an eternity before Varus is actually turning around, and only then does Isla have the mental fortitude to be grateful and intrigued that he'd agreed to play some stupid game with her. "What a gentleman," she drawls playfully, hurriedly drying off and pulling her clothes back on. It's just a loose sundress and a pair of sandals, so it doesn't take too long at least. "Alright, ready," she says, rubbing at her damp hair with the towel.
"Are you sure you want to interrupt prime reading time to throw rocks in the sand with me? Because the ending of that book is a doozy."
// every mistake, a reason to run, but a good soldier marches on knowing the worst may be still yet to come //
He snorts, considering arguing with her on what he meant by it, but refrains. Because talk of ghost whales and the way her nose wrinkles is rather adorable despite the subject topic and he finds himself grimacing slightly with the thought of a slow death like that. So he hums his agreement to that, turning away from her so she can get dressed.
When she says she’s ready, he turns now to give her a look over, an easily charming smile crossing his face. “Lovely as always.” He hums to her, moving away from her back down the beach to grab a piece of driftwood to start crafting their bullseye in the middle of the sand. He makes two circles before he’s looking back at her over his shoulder. “Of course I’m sure. I’ve got all the time in the world to get my heart inevitably broken by ink on paper.” He tips her a wink, before he’s finishing the bullseye and stepping to the side to make the tracker in the sand, designating each side for score keeping with an ISLA | CAL.
“Alright, let’s see…” They need rocks as well as determining how many points each circle means.
"I bet you say that to all the girls," Isla quips back, and this time her smile comes a lot easier. There's just something about being the only one naked in the conversation that makes banter a bit more difficult (for her, at least). "And boys, too. I don't discriminate." And she doesn't know his type, either, though if his staring was anything to go by...
Promptly not thinking about that (and failing), Isla stoops to collect a few rocks and shells that will do as their darts, while Varus makes their scoreboard and their target. "Oh, are you a tragic romance kind of guy? I'll keep that in mind the next time I visit the Atheneum," she says quietly, flashing him a fanged grin and straightening up.
"That looks really good. Do you want rocks or shells?" she asks. "We can go 10 points for the outer ring, 20 for the inner, and 50 for a bullseye?"
// every mistake, a reason to run, but a good soldier marches on knowing the worst may be still yet to come //
“Not all of them.” He’s quick to respond, flashing another wink her way, ending it with a hum of a laugh as he moves to make the scoreboard and bullseye. As for his reading habits? He pauses once he’s lined out the scoreboard to hold the driftwood to his chest. “Suppose I’m a bit traditional and quite cliche… But gods am I a sucker for tragic romance.” He agrees, and in a flair of pure dramatics his head tilts toward the sky and a wistful sigh slips past his lips.
“I’ll take rocks.” He decides quickly, reaching out to collect the rocks in his metal hand, listening as they clink against the metal. Then he’s keeping a list of what ring means what, agreeing with the choice Isla’s made, before he steps back and flashes her a brilliant grin. “Works for me.” He pauses before continuing. “Ladies, and shells, first.” A half bow accompanies it, a grin growing along his face as he waits for her to take her turn.
"Flirty, complimenting ladies, a sucker for a tragic romance and you chose rocks over shells, like a really big strong man," Isla teases, her fanged grin flashing in the moonlight. "Careful, or I might start to think your personality is only skin deep." Giving him a bump with her shoulder, Isla scoots her foot across the sand so she can determine where they need to throw from, before she's stepping up.
She almost wants to give him a push as he's half bowing, just to see if he falls over, but thinks better of it. And with her first throw, her shell lands with a disappointing plap in the sand of the outermost ring. "So that's 10 then." She laughs, shaking her head. "Shells are not aerodynamic, and I'll be using that as an excuse for the rest of this game, okay?"
// every mistake, a reason to run, but a good soldier marches on knowing the worst may be still yet to come //
“Oh ack, where’s the fun in analyzing me?” He replies with his own playful grin. “Besides, you’ve seen nothing yet.” All she’s seen is this side of him, and the slightly brooding bit. But aside from that? When he’s in the zone of training or war? He becomes someone else entirely. So he snorts when she bumps his shoulder and he steps back to give her room and watch as the shell plops in the outer ring.
He can’t help but to laugh, a barking sound into the night, as he steps up after marking her points. “Yeah? We’ll see about that.” He chimes to her, moving to throw one of his rocks toward the bullseye and watches as it lands right in the second ring, somewhat in the middle of it. “Twenty for meeeee!” He chimes in a sing song tone, marking his points and smirks at Isla. “You gotta up your game, Isla.”
