Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
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"I'd like to say the same, but you literally caught me with my pants down," Isla retorts, though her smile does soften. She doesn't know why it's relieving to know that there's more to Varus than just charm and flirting, but it is; granted, before she can settle in to liking him for more than his compliments, he's fucking laughing at her, and her smile is half outraged as she's jostled about.
Aaaand then he goes and scores twenty, and Isla's huffing is absolutely playful. She's not competitive. Nope.
"Are you using your special arm? Because that's cheating," she informs him, stepping back up to the line after he's marked his points. Taking a breath she doesn't need to show she means business, Isla takes aim again. Her shell plops right into the outer ring, not far from her first, and she hisses out a curse and grins to him. "Go on, make your fun."
// every mistake, a reason to run, but a good soldier marches on knowing the worst may be still yet to come //
Oh and he had caught her with her pants down. Without any pants at all, actually. But before he has a moment to consider his own quips back, he’s snickering at her failed first throw, then throwing his own marginally better, then she’s up to the plate again, so to speak. “Ha, no. I’m right handed.” He assures her with a grin. The metal arm sat on his left side — no cheating here, nope, none at all.
The second one also flops for her and he hums a softer edged laugh, marking her points again and moving up to the line so he can throw again. “If the shells are such a disadvantage, then we can trade after this throw.” He grins to her, fanged and bright in the moonlight. But then he’s taking his own throw, and it lands right next to the first one he’s thrown. He moves to mark it, turning back to her with a click of his tongue. “Wellllllll, you wanna try the rocks? It’s gotta at least be somewhat fair.” He extends the metal hand with the pile of rocks in them toward her to trade, wondering if it’s her aim or indeed the material.
Isla is thoroughly disappointed with herself, and secretly pleased that he doesn't tease her too badly (he's liable to have a handful of shells stuffed down the back of his pants if that's the case). Then Varus steps up to the line again, and he does just as well as she did badly for a second time. Pouting, Isla folds her arms across her chest and considers what she's doing wrong. It can't just be that she's bad at it, right?
Grumbling, she nods and moves to trade her shells for his rocks, rolling her shoulders for good measure like that's going to make a difference. "Alright, let's see..." Scrunching her nose as she takes aim, Isla tries with one of the rocks, throws, and fuck yeah - it lands on the very edge of the inner ring, a whiskey away from the bullseye.
"It was the shells!" She grins, clearly delighted by the fact that she doesn't entirely suck at sand darts.
// every mistake, a reason to run, but a good soldier marches on knowing the worst may be still yet to come //
Her grumbles spark another quiet huff of laughter from Varus, who happily trades the rocks for shells. He then steps back, watching her roll her shoulder, then watches as the rock sails through the air so close to the bullseye his breath hitches for a fraction of a second. He squints back at her at her elation, smirking as he marks her points and moves up to the line with a shell in hand. “Was it, though?” He teases her lightly as he throws.
The shell zips through the air, too, landing beside Isla’s on the edge of the bullseye and Varus is quick to flash her a bright teasing grin as he marks the points. “I’m not too sure if I believe you. You’re still losing in points, too.” He informs her with an amused tittering of his voice, his head tilting a fraction as he steps back to watch her throw one again, wondering if any of them would hit the bullseye. “You’re gonna have to get a bullseye at this point to win.”
"Yes, it was," Isla says confidently. And then Varus steps up, his shell lands right beside hers, and no it fucking wasn't, Isla. Her jaw drops in outrage, and were it not for the caveat of maybe getting a bullseye to win it, she'd have probably thrown a bunch of pebbles at him for good measure. "Careful, Cal. Your smug is showing," she informs him, raking her fingers through her wet hair before stepping up once again.
"Alright, one last time," she says, nodding and frowning out at the circle in concentration. And she throws, and it lands smack in the inner circle, earning her a grand total of 40. "Well, I guess I concede to you, Sand Dart King," she says with a good natured grumble, motioning for him to go ahead. "Try for it anyway, though."
// every mistake, a reason to run, but a good soldier marches on knowing the worst may be still yet to come //
She's so incredibly confident until his shell lands beside the stone and he can’t help the edge of the grin that grows brighter when she comments on his smugness. “Oh is it?” He makes a show of toning it down. “C’mon, Isla. You got this.” He chimes to her as she steps up, waiting to see if she pulls out the bullseye.
And then she doesn’t, and he has to try very very very hard not to let the grin cross his face. “Sand Dart King, huh?” He hums as he steps up to the line again to throw his last shell. It misses the mark too, falling short of the inner ring to land in the outer one. “You know… Maybe it was the shells.” He says, lifting them in his metal hand to where he might be able to inspect them, brows drawn together in a display of full concentration, before his gaze lifts. “Maybe one day you’ll be crowned the Sand Dart Queen.” He steps back out of her reach with that, as the crooked grin spreads across his face.
She doesn't got this. Neither of them got this, but that doesn't wipe the smile off her face at all. "mAyBe iT waS tHe sHeLLs," she teases, straightening up and fully admiring the fact that his last throw has been his worst one. It doesn't make her any less of a loser in this game, but it does soothe her ego somewhat. "Gosh, maybe I will." Her hand flutters to her heart, though she does seriously consider taking a swipe at him. "What a day that will be. We'll have to come back and play again."
For now, though, she moves to pluck up her towel to fold it over her arm. "You said something about coming to see someone here in Torchline," she remembers suddenly. "Did you meet up with them in the end?" With the competitiveness in her blood fading somewhat, Isla's curiosity perks back up.
// every mistake, a reason to run, but a good soldier marches on knowing the worst may be still yet to come //
A bark of laughter leaves him when she teases him, a playful roll of his eyes given in return. And then he’s making his joke, stepping out of her range for the possibilities of rocks flinging at him, but brightens up as she airs her own dramatics. He can’t say he’d be mad about her taking the crown from him, anyway. As for doing it again? He can’t help the words that fall from his lips, playful and amused. “Sure. It’s a date.” The grin remains, even as he nears where she’s left her towel so he can grab the book. Tucking it under his arm, he regards her again and offers his elbow for her.
“Nope, haven’t yet. Don‘t know where he lives or really if he’s from Torchline or not. He just kind of seemed like he might.” His brows pinch a fraction as he thinks back at it, before he’s shaking his head and casting his blue gaze back toward her face. “I’m not too worried about it. I’m here for relaxing and getting my heart broken.” He winks, making a show of the book tucked in his other arm.
"It's a date," Isla agrees; she had wanted to correct him initially, but something lets the words slip past her teeth before she can stop them. And so, with books and towels in hand and a blush colouring her cheeks silver for the second time that night, Isla links her arm with Varus so they might stroll away together - down the beach, presumably - and she kicks the rocks and shells on the way past for good measure.
Raising an eyebrow and glancing across at him questioningly, she can't help but huff out a laugh to hear that he doesn't even know that the person he's come to visit is in Torchline or not. "I can't think of a single person who would do that," she admits; of the leaving for Torchline, of intentionally wanting one's heart broken, book or no book. Varus is an anomaly, that much is obvious to Isla.
"Except you, obviously. So what are your plans, now that I've interrupted them?"
// every mistake, a reason to run, but a good soldier marches on knowing the worst may be still yet to come //
She agrees to it as a date and he offers his elbow to her, trying to hide the way the playfulness of his smile grows more genuine, more warm with the idea. She didn’t deny it and so far aside from the book there’s no heartbreak. Good, makes it easier. He helps kick a bit of sand over their game, linked arm in arm with her as they walk down the beach, the waves lapping against the sides as they illuminate a low blue hue. “I have a surprisingly good intuition.” He informs her, smirking lightly. “He’s Ascended and doesn’t live in the Grounds. Missing an eye. Know him?” He casts his gaze back at her. “Wanted to know what you thought of taking my ruined arm off, whether you enjoyed it.” He assumes Isla did enjoy it, after all, she hadn’t said anything otherwise.
As for his plans? He hums his thoughts under his breath, head tilting slightly as he peers down the path they take. “Not sure, really. Just… Relaxing. I assume that’s why you’re here too, given that you’ve finally pulled yourself away from work.” He and everyone else would tell her she works too much, so he doesn’t air that particular comment.
It feels more natural than it should, to walk arm and arm with him; Isla relaxes into the touch, the gentle pressure against her side as they stroll along the beach (and no, the cliche of long walks on the beach and the idea of dates is not lost on her). "You have a surprisingly big ego," she shoots back with a playful grin across at him, though it's all in good fun. He feels like the extrovert to her introvert, but there are too many crossovers to make it quite that simple. Either way, Isla is enjoying herself.
But he asks if she knows a one-eyed Ascended who lives in Torchline, and her fanged smile turns very bright indeed. "You must mean Nate Wrenzaok," she says with a nod. "He's a doctor - I'm part of his medical guild, the Wren Society. He also happens to be married to Torchline's Governor. You can really pick them, Cal." Laughing, Isla gives him a gentle nudge. "And what did you tell him? Did I look like I enjoyed taking off your arm?"
Relaxing does sound good, and she kicks a bit of soft sand as they trundle their way along the sandbar. "Mm, that's right. A very good friend of mine asked me along to test out a new Attuned shift of his, and I've been wanting to swim more ever since. Maybe I should go to the Oasis more often, hm?"
// every mistake, a reason to run, but a good soldier marches on knowing the worst may be still yet to come //
“Is that so?” He replies with a bright laugh toward Isla, an amused look crossing his face before he dives into explaining just who he was seeking out. They continue to walk down the beach, illuminated by the moonlight and the sound of the waves crashing along the beach, arm in arm — and it’s really quite nice. Until his catlike smirk crosses his face and he leans in a bit toward Isla after she nudges him. “I knew he lived around here.” He nudges her back before he’s grinning at the path they take, as if it were a small trophy he’d won. “I told him you looked like you enjoyed it. Up until I spooked you and you hit me with my own arm.” His gaze dances back down to her with a raise of his brow.
Both brows raise at the mention of trying an attuned shift, though, a half smirk blossoming on his face as he considers her. “Well? You gonna tell me what the shift was or do I have to guess?” Because of course he’s curious. He’s curious as all hell what kind of shift required Torchline waters and not those in the Oasis. “The Oasis is nice, especially this time of year. Maybe we can go when we’re back and settled?” He suggests offhandedly, pausing in the walk to spy a shell sitting in the damp part of the sand. He lifts it up to inspect it, before he’s cracking it open with his metal hand. Inside of the washed up oyster sits a brilliant hue of deep mother of pearl, along with two deep hued pink pearls. “Hm looks like someone dropped a prize from their haul.” He comments, handing it to her to inspect for herself.
"I knew you'd know. And yes, that is so," Isla chimes back with a fiendish sort of smile in his direction, only to snort and put her free hand to her forehead at the reminder of what she had done to him when it came to arm amputation. "Oh gods, I had forgotten about that. I'm so sorry," she says, trying to hide her grin and failing spectacularly. "I imagine I will hear about that from Nate the next time I see him, too." Not one of her most professional reactions; at least he doesn't seem to be holding it against her.
At least she can brag about the shift she'd gained thanks to Remi, Isla leaning in, as if it's some sort of secret she's about to share with him. "A kraken," she whispers, and if it's possible to sound girlishly excited about the prospect of becoming a mythical nightmare squid, Isla manages it.
Going to the Oasis, though? That sounds like an offer she might have to take up, if only so Varus can't accidentally catch her naked again. "Sure," she says with a vibrant nod, only to pause as he reaches down for an oyster. Eyes widening at the sight of the pearls, she accepts it and raises her eyebrows at him. "No way did you just find this," she says. "Is your new arm a pearl detector or something?"
// every mistake, a reason to run, but a good soldier marches on knowing the worst may be still yet to come //
Her apology is met with a bright chime of a laugh from him, one that echoes along the rocks that make up part of the beach. “Oh I absolutely deserved it.” He retorts to her with a playful smirk. He had, too. She had definitely told him to warn her and then he hadn’t. It seemed only fair to him that she’d retaliate in some way. “Eh, he can stick a cork in it.” He adds at the mention of Nate talking to her about it. Varus didn’t care and it wasn’t like Isla was out here beating people with arms. So it was fair.
A kraken draws his attention, a sudden kind of boyish amusement crossing over him. “How on earth did you find an Attuned with a kraken shift?” He whispers back, letting his gaze dance along her a brief moment before he’s looking away, letting his smile bloom while Isla agrees to the trip to the Oasis.
But he finds the pearls and hands them off to her, looking back to her with a playful, Cheshire grin. “Well I just did.” His tone is playfully cool, while he focuses on her. “Maybe it is.” He clears his throat and moves to adjust the book so that he might be able to extend his arm out, making soft beeps with his mouth, holding it over toward her and letting his voice even out with a very long beeeeep over the pearls.
It continues though as he pulls his hand away from the pearls up to Isla’s head, before pulling it back so he can stare at it. “Hmm. Seems to be working just fine.” She’d absolutely set him up for that.
