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!
A nod, a kiss, a promise and it's done. Ronin leaves Remi at the door to the Wrenzaok house and takes himself away and to the side, off into the Boondocks where he and Sunjata can have a conversation. Because that's what he's asked for. A conversation. They know why Remi and Nate are where they are - and Ronin is pretty sure that Jata knows why the Huntsman is here too now, as well. The stars don't all wink out at night for just anything, Sunny.
He stands facing the sea, his hands resting in the pockets of his pants, which have turned from fabric into pitch dark leather. A blanket of crimson feathers covers his shoulders and trickles down his spine, their fire barely contained, and it's with hard blue eyes that Ronin waits for Sunjata to throw the first stone.
12-21-2021, 10:25 PM (This post was last modified: 12-22-2021, 07:01 AM by Sunjata.)
SUNJATA
i was never the sharp knife, but i was never the dull mind i was somewhere in between, a thorn, an acquiescent
This isn’t going to be a fun conversation. It’s one that he was hoping would hold out for longer, but he supposes as they say, ripping off the bandaid is easier than just pulling it off slowly. Hurts less in the long run, so the theory goes.
Huh, Ronin?
The Star is brooding immensely when the Flood arrives, and where Ronin is bathed in fiery feathers, Sunjata keeps his distance, hands shoved in his pocket, gaze focused on Ronin’s figure. “Ronin.” He rumbles in a quiet greeting, an announcement of his presence. He doesn’t arrive bathed with another shift. No, he stands as is, missing all of the Safrin influenced tattoos. The only sleeved tattoo that remains is the left arm, but no longer do the stars remain. His right arm is empty and blank aside from the feathered tattoo, covered in the lighting bolt scars from when he’d grabbed the lightning rod.
And most notably, the constellation in the center of his chest has vanished too. “Are you looking for an explanation?” He asks, unsure if Ronin wanted to punch first and ask later or the other way around.
so you said it was for me, when you tried to break me well you can save your breath, i know, i'm not the kind you pray for
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
So the theory goes, Sunjata. Ronin doesn't expect to bristle at the sound of the Flood's voice, and yet scales armour his shoulders in place of feathers as the other man announces his presence. Beneath his clothes, they flicker down his biceps and forearms, too, coating his knuckles ebony. "No," he says softly, without emotion. "No, I am not the one who needs an explanation." That's something he owes Safrin.
"I'm just here to give you her regards."
His hands are already leaving his pockets as he turns, and however much distance Jata is trying to put between them, Ronin is determined to close it in a fraction of a second. His right hand hooks around, aiming a vicious blow to the taller man's jaw.
i was never the sharp knife, but i was never the dull mind i was somewhere in between, a thorn, an acquiescent
Of course. Ronin always had been Safrin’s knight in shining armor. And maybe it’s the fact that Sunjata doesn’t feel like he has to be afraid of the starry goddess any longer that keeps him from indulging in these thoughts. Sunjata never could compare to Ronin, nor did he want to. But to think that he had meant as much to Safrin as Ronin does is outlandish to the fresh demigod.
So of course it’s as a response. It’s why he hasn’t sent a letter. He knew the second he got home after having Safrin quite literally scrubbed and burned from his bones, that there wouldn’t be any way the Star wouldn’t have heard about it before the letter even got there.
And like some parallel between the last time Ronin had been just as stormy to Sunjata, it starts with a fight again. The Flood knows he’s not as strong as he once had been, an advantage that Ronin certainly takes when he closes the distance surprisingly quickly and Sunjata’s left reeling from the punch to his jaw, stumbling back atop the sand but somehow he remains standing. Hissing out a Korofi curse and feeling the bubble of warm blood against his lip, Sunjata chooses not to fight back. He chooses, instead, to brace with his arms, blocking his face if nothing else from Ronin’s onslaught as scales similar to Ronin’s coat his body. Fuckin’ get on with it then. He snaps through the bond, part of him hoping that his newfound faith in Frey would at the very least keep him alive seeing as he doesn’t know how far Safrin’s Good Little Soldier intends to go.
so you said it was for me, when you tried to break me well you can save your breath, i know, i'm not the kind you pray for
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
Ronin isn't privy to Sunjata's internal raging, but if he had been, he'd have likely laughed in the other man's face. Knight in shining armour and Good Little Soldier he might be, but the Flood has just tethered himself dick-first to Frey of all deities. He's about to find out firsthand, what it means to be a demigod. He doubts Jata will like it all that much, when the shock wears off and all the bruises he's about to give him fade.
My pleasure, he snarls back, rolling his shoulders as he moves in again. It's quick, efficient and brutal, the blows he rains down on the Flood, but to say that Ronin doesn't take pleasure in it would be a lie. By the time he steps back from the Flood with a dragon's wings stretching out from his shoulders, there's blood on the scales of his knuckles and cold fire in his blue eyes.
"She gave you all that you asked her," he hisses. "You gave your word. You fathered her child. And you turned your back on her to hide from the war?" He spits at Jata's feet. "She's better off without your feeble conviction. But I expected more."
i was never the sharp knife, but i was never the dull mind i was somewhere in between, a thorn, an acquiescent
If he’s being honest, it does suck. But it doesn’t suck as much as having Safrin burned from him. And perhaps it’s the memory of that pain which makes this feel like a stark contrast, even as Ronin’s blows bring him to the ground, that coat him in his own blood, that drips unceremoniously onto the scales that span his chest now too.
When it’s done and Ronin’s drawn back, Sunjata’s growling a hint, craning himself over to spit a mouthful of blood into the sand. Bedraggled as he is, there’s a cut over his eyebrow, one that would likely be an addition to the scars that span his body.
“Not everything.” He spits out, his lightning scarred, pale hand rising to wipe away the blood that trickles down his face. “Frey offered me a way to protect my family. Far less strings attached than Safrin could have ever offered me.” He snaps, teeth clicking with how sharp and raw he feels. “They offered to protect Nate rather than when Safrin told my daughter the equivalent of bedtime stories about how he’d kill us in our sleep. And you don’t think I’d fucking take that chance?”
so you said it was for me, when you tried to break me well you can save your breath, i know, i'm not the kind you pray for
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
Done is a relative term, Ronin casting a long shadow over Sunjata where he's curled in on himself. "Is that what you think?" He barks out a laugh, using the toe of his boot to nudge Jata onto his back. "You're a demigod now. There's not a decision you ever get to make that won't have strings attached. You gonna sleep with Mort, too, if he gives you an even better offer?"
He doesn't expect to feel as angry as he does, not after the day or two it's taken to get here. But Safrin's hurt and betrayal burns as brightly in his veins as his own blood; fuelled by her, it's little wonder he's about ready to crush Sunjata's throat beneath his shoes. "You don't know that he won't," he snarls about Nate, shaking his head. "The Voice is connected to all of her Ascended, Jata. You're a fool if you think she couldn't take advantage of that through Nate."
That doesn't matter now though, he supposes, because Nate and Jata will be hiding away from the war when it comes, according to Frey. "You might be done with Safrin, Jata. But she's not done with you." His boot slams down in a vicious stamping of the Flood's ribs. Ronin hears cracking, and he relishes it.
i was never the sharp knife, but i was never the dull mind i was somewhere in between, a thorn, an acquiescent
“And how would he? Why would Safrin entrust her own fucking child into a home where she knows he’s there?” He’s pushed over onto his back and he’s still not putting up a fight, hissing under his breath. “If she’s so concerned about ensuring all children’s safety during the war I doubt she’d actually let that be a possibility.” Unless it was a ploy to push him further away from his husband and closer to her.
In which case, that backfired too.
But he doesn’t have time to think about it much when Ronin’s boot crashes down onto his chest. He lurches, hitching forward and barking a sound of wheezed pain, scales and feathers appearing on his chest in a wave of each breath’s pain. For fuck’s sake, Ronin, I wasn’t ever going to love her the way she wanted me to! If it came down to choosing between her and Nate I was never going to pick her. When it came down to it, it’s the whole reason he even had a daughter to begin with.
A bargain to save his husband’s life from a man so tired of losing everything he has.
so you said it was for me, when you tried to break me well you can save your breath, i know, i'm not the kind you pray for
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
"Maybe she was giving you a longer leash, because Kamaria is your daughter as well as hers. Maybe she thought that would please you," Ronin growls, his leg pulling back before he aims another kick to Jata's side. "And maybe she's got no reason to be so stupid any more." It woudn't surprise Ronin if Safrin did everything in her power, now, to get Kamaria out of a home free of her influence.
The Flood's voice rings through his mind and Ronin's wings fan out, bathing them in shadow. "This isn't about love, Jata. This is about trust and respect. It's about not breaking your word," he snarls. "I hope in the seasons to come you consider this worth it. Betrayal of a goddess tends to hang around your reputation." Ronin will make sure of it, in fact.
i was never the sharp knife, but i was never the dull mind i was somewhere in between, a thorn, an acquiescent
He wants to respond, wants to explain more about the leash he had and Kamaria, but Ronin’s boot comes down again and he hisses with the pain, wheezing through his short bursts of breaths with what he's pretty sure is a broken rib or two. He curls in on his side so that he can spit another mouthful of blood onto the sand. His body still warps slightly with the armor that plates and coats his body, the feathers that stick up in between them.
Brows furrowed and blood dripping from a cut in his brow, he watches Ronin with a glare. Trust and respect dictated by starlit chains? He snaps back, his own wings flaring out to create a type of brace to keep a bit of distance between them even though it’s futile. “That’s not healthy, Ronin.” He snaps, teeth clicking against one another.
His lightning scarred hand covers his ribs to try and prevent more of the blows there, wheezing in another breath. “Tell me, if the roles were reversed and you had to choose between her and Remi, and Remi was on the other side of the war, would you still choose her?”
so you said it was for me, when you tried to break me well you can save your breath, i know, i'm not the kind you pray for
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
Ronin strolls around the downed demigod, prowling like any good predator, searching for weaknesses to exploit or areas as of yet untouched. He doesn't lash out yet, though - not physically, anyway. But he does bark out a humourless laugh, shaking his head as starlight begins to splinter angrily from his form. "So she forced you, did she?" he drawls. "Made you take her deals, came to you rather than you showing up at her shrines?"
Crouching down now, he narrows his eyes and considers tossing sand into Jata's face for good measure. "That's the thing, though, friend. The roles would never be reversed, because I'd never dig myself so deep a hole that I couldn't get out of it again. You marry an Ascended and cozy up to an Old God. What the fuck did you expect? And do you really think Frey and the Voice are buddies? That they'll just let this happen?"
i was never the sharp knife, but i was never the dull mind i was somewhere in between, a thorn, an acquiescent
“I wasn’t forced. I was pushed to.” And if Ronin knew one thing about Sunjata it was how easily manipulated the Flood could be, trying to do his best to keep everyone appeased, trying to walk the line between these opposing sides to both not get hurt and to not hurt anyone else. But Frey had offered a better deal, one that let him keep everything, that let him not have to worry about even thinking of the Voice. He didn’t feel spied on, he finally felt free.
So when Ronin prowls around him and admits that it wouldn’t happen, Sunjata grits his teeth and rolls his eyes, an issue when there’s suddenly sand coating his face. His wings flare, fanning out to get some of the sand away in case Ronin sends more his way, and when his hand moves to cover his stinging eyes, he can feel the click and pull of water as he crafts it, using it to wash the sand from his eyes and the blood that dripped in alongside it, his brow pulsing with his heartbeat.
“Fuck you.” He snarls instead. Obviously nothing he could say would change Ronin’s mind or calm him down, so why is he even wasting his breath? The water bursts out of him, aiming to drench Ronin as Sunjata gathers everything in him to move further away from Ronin, to create space.
so you said it was for me, when you tried to break me well you can save your breath, i know, i'm not the kind you pray for
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
"If only you'd said that to Safrin, maybe you wouldn't have been pushed to do so much," Ronin hisses back, scoffing and rising back to his feet. His wings drape around his shoulders and crimson feathers dance up and around his throat. "Though I guess that's an advantage of being bound to Frey. You can do all the fucking you can get your hands on - you've always been quite good at that."
They're low blows now, unnecessary and stinging, and Ronin doesn't care. Safrin might as well be using him to speak, such is his contempt for Sunjata. But perhaps there is a way to move forward from here. "Do you know, there's a shrine out in the Barrows to Vi and Safrin. It's probably pretty overgrown at this point. You and I are going out there in the next couple days, and we're going to clean it up." It's not a request, if Jata hasn't guessed.
i was never the sharp knife, but i was never the dull mind i was somewhere in between, a thorn, an acquiescent
“And what could I have said that wouldn’t already be seen as a step of betrayal?” Sunjata snaps, gaining a bit of space, eyeing the crimson feathers that truthfully remind him of when Safrin had been burned from his bones. Ronin’s words are low blows and if Sunjata didn’t feel like his ribs were about to crack and fall apart he’d likely have huffed a laugh. Instead, the most he can do is huff a sound of air, shake his head a minute amount that doesn’t make it feel like it’s going to explode. “Really?”
Oh but then there’s a demand and Sunjata draws silent, glaring through wet lashes to stare at Ronin with every bit of fire in his being. Of course I know there’s a fucking shrine there. He snaps mentally, because drawing air into his lungs sparks up too much pain. And what happens if I don't? He wants to know just how far Ronin’s willing to push it, how far he’s sure Safrin has her hand up his ass to puppet him around in this holier than thou light.
so you said it was for me, when you tried to break me well you can save your breath, i know, i'm not the kind you pray for
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
