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!
"Mm, she was leaving. Back to the Grounds." Remi says with a distant frown. "I think they are all there now. Every ascended." Glancing over his shoulder as if he might peer through the walls of the houseboat and all the way to where the barrier once stood, the alchemist's lip snarls almost imperceptibly before he turns back.
Resisting the urge to give himself tentacle feet that he might reach out and slorp up his husband's foot (no doubt Ronin will feel the inclination through the bond), Remi nods with slow understanding. His smile is gradual, but once it takes hold it deepens the dimples on the alchemist's cheeks and even seems to brighten his stare. "Now...you wouldn't be saying that because your birthday was last season, now would you?" Remi wonders with a sly grin. "Because if you want a party Ronin, you need only say so."
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
"I think you might be right," Ronin says softly about the Ascended, and although he doesn't really see the snarl on Remi's lip as he glances in the direction of the Grounds, he instinctively knows that it's there. Before he can stop himself, he reaches out an inky hand to cover his husband's, as if to apologise for something he has no memory of any longer. "I don't know whether it's a good or a bad thing that they're all in one place now," he mumbles.
Taking his hand back (and narrowing his eyes a bit and curling his toes against any attack, imagined or otherwise), he scoffs and shrugs his shoulders at the prospect of a party. "Actually," he says, "I happened to have a conversation with Maeve the other day. About a dinner party?" He raises his eyebrows. "And you don't especially like parties, unless you can sneak away into the background."
Free of the only meaningful hesitation he'd ever had, it's with a pulse of ambivalence that Remi meets his husband's concern. "Good, I think. Easier to know where they all are. And it isn't as though any of them can come here. As far as the God's plans from a few years ago are concerned, I think the Greatwood is fairly well placed to keep an eye on the Grounds." Grinning, Remi shrugs with a merciless glint in his eyes.
'Mmmm? Oh, right. That." Helping himself to another long sip of wine, the alchemist leans back in his chair. "It's the dinner party she has been trying to organize since we moved to Stormbreak." He says, stifling a yawn behind his hand. "Well, considering how much you two do like parties, I am sure I can find ample opportunity to slip away." Remi counters smugly.
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Letting his thumb brush across the back of Remi's hand, Ronin sits back and takes up his paintbrush again, choosing a teal colour to compliment the richer blue he'd started with. "Combined with your new fiery shift, I'd consider the Greatwood and your place in it to be a grand success," he agrees, finishing off his wine with his free hand and reaching for the bottle to top them both up.
"Dinner parties are different than party-parties," Ronin reminds his husband. "And the last one we went to was with October and Finn, so I think we're probably due another outing. Hopefully this one will go much better. Not that I'm going to complain if you want to have impromptu sex in Maeve's bathroom."
'Tomorrow maybe we can see what I can do with it. Maybe near the Drop or so, just in case." But then, with Ronin's aquatic constellation, they'd probably be fine. Raising his eyebrows and very nearly putting his paintbrush into his wineglass instead of their water cup, Remi chuckles. "Have you met the two of you? You both act like you are the only ones in a room and never stop talking." He mumbles, of Ronin and Maeve's propensity for extrovertness.
Grinning far more wickedly now, Remi bounces his eyebrows. "I already want that. Especially since our bathroom has been commandeered." Shrugging, Remi flashes an appreciative smile Ronin's way as his wine glass is refilled, and this time as he takes a sip and sets it back down, he does so on the opposite side of the table from their water.
"How did things go with Safrin and Stormbreak?" He asks, flicking bits of glitter into the wet paint on his lantern.
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
"Why walk all that way? You could test it out along the banks of the Stonesong here. I'll make us breakfast over a campfire and watch you." Ogle you, is what Ronin actually means, of course. He has the gall to look offended at Remi's (completely correct) interpretation of a dinner party involving himself and Maeve, scoffing and continuing to paint with more intensity, if that's possible.
"Alas, I think we will have to make use of the bed instead. How terribly conventional of us," he murmurs, glancing at his glass as a bit of glitter lands in it. He'll drink it anyway, obviously. "Mm? It went well. By the time I'm finished, any Ascended, hybrid or demigod of the Voice will have a nasty surprise if they try to get into Stormbreak. I just need fluid from Neron Launceleyn, believe it or not." He rolls his eyes.
Watching Ronin work, all focused blue eyes and wildly expressive eyebrows has Remi feeling warm right down to his core, and not just because of the wine. "Mhmm." He hums noncommittally, while a tentacle brushes the bottom of the Huntsman's barefoot.
'The bed?' Remi repeats, sounding mortally offended and inconvenienced. 'Gods, what's next? Small talk over breakfast? His and his coffee mugs?" Rolling his eyes and not seeming to be aware of the glitter-mess he's created (because of course he isn't), Remi closes one eye as if that mightrr help him better deduce if his lantern is done.
Hearing Neron's name has Remi's eyes lifting. "Is that so? You know...when I was in Halo, Noah showed me a feather that had been taken from Morgan's dead body. A manticore feather, if you can believe it.." Stringing out the words slowly and casually, Remi pauses as he focuses on the tip of the penis he's currently adding more glitter to. "...You know who has my manticore shift?" He asks. 'Or, had I should say."
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Mmhm, Ronin wants to say back, only he's suddenly pulling a face and skittering his foot back and away from Remi's tentacles to tuck it beneath his chair instead. It's fine - he can work the startled swipe of paint into the overall lantern design. He does quit while he's ahead, though, letting the paintbrush clink into the watercup to indicate that he's finished, more or less.
"I love making small talk over breakfast," he says, his eyes warm and his tone smug as he lifts his glitter-wine to his lips. Before he can comment on the mugs, though, the conversation about Neron takes precedent, and he raises his eyebrows. "A manticore feather? You don't suppose Neron was trying to make it look as though you were responsible?" he murmurs. "...Why, though? I assumed he and Morgan were as close as a man who can't get an erection could be."
Grinning mischievously, Remi too tucks his feet under his chair (not that it means his reach is any less for it). "I do too." The alchemist agrees warmly, not even bothering to point out that what Ronin actually loved was the breakfast portion of small-talk-over-breakfast.
Were it not for the sudden dark warmth of bloodlust flooding his veins Remi would have been sorely tempted to kiss away the glitter from his husband's lips. Instead, he just nods stiffly. "Well, no one else has that shift." He says, having forgotten Isla, and thus having also forgotten a certain conversation with Varus as well. "And given Noah asked me if I knew anything about it..." Remi shrugs and shakes his head. "I didn't really put it together at the time, only mentioning what I knew about my shift and if there were any wild manticores about."
Grimacing at the thought of Neron's penis, Remi tries to wash the mental image away with more of the wine. "Tell me one Launceleyn that you have known who has been loyal to anything or anyone not bearing their last name for more than a little while."
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
"Then I suppose you can practice your new shift while I'm making breakfast and making smalltalk over it," Ronin says with a confident smile, as if their morning plans are already decided and accounted for. Cleaning the bathroom, evidently, is a later chore (and maybe one he'll insist that Sugar and Oria at least try to start).
Running a finger around the rim of his wine glass, Ronin lets out a soft sigh and picks it up again to down it in one. He does know that Neron likely isn't the only one with that shift, but he doesn't comment on it. Now isn't the time, and that's another tomorrow issue. "Wild manticores in Halo seems like a bit of a stretch..." He's never seen nor heard of any, anyway.
Scrunching his nose and setting down his glass, Ronin rises to his feet and offers his hand to Remi, clearly finished with lanterns for the evening and hoping that his husband feels te same way. "Good point," he mutters. "I might need to check with Noah whether he's still in Halo. Easy enough to get some of his fluid if so, but if he's in the Grounds..." He shakes his head. "I promised a ceasefire, so it would be bad form for me to go in and snatch him."
"I have never seen another manticore here since we have arrived. Maybe in the Cordillera...I..never thought to ask Ludo about any of my shifts, now that I thought about it. It never seemed to matter before." Now though? Now he'd make a point of it. Peering curiously at Ronin, his eyes narrowed ever so slightly, Remi stills and then straightens. "...I didn't do it, did I?" He asks in a low voice. "What I forgot...the person I forgot...was it..?"
Shuffling things about but not really aiding in Ronin's efforts to clear things away, Remi lets his head move from side to side, weighing something. "Well I promised no such thing." He points out. "Besides, what are the ascended going to do against a man quite literally on fire?" Remi wonders as he flashes Ronin a far too innocent smile.
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
While Remi fusses about not-cleaning, Ronin gathers the letters that he'd placed on the bed and moves them instead onto the window sill for Remi to pick up whenever he feels he's ready. Turning at the sudden seriousness in his husband's tone, the Huntsman shakes his head and moves to draw the other man to his feet, if he can.
"No," he says softly, leaning in for a kiss. "No, it wasn't anything to do with that. You did it for me, mostly," he mutters, kissing him again before retreating to collapse down on the bed.
Raising an eyebrow at the very good point made by his husband, Ronin finds the Lullaby's smile contagious. "Look at you, with your good ideas. I'd be honoured if you would help Stormbreak out. I'll make it worth your while, I promise."
Noting the placement of the letters for later, Remi watches cautiously as Ronin nears. That he was reaching out for the alchemist wasn't the best sign, but quickly both the Huntsman's words and emotions soothed away the budding doubts taking root in Remi's mind. Looking adorably confused in the wake of Ronin's kiss, Remi doesn't ask what he means. Not just now, not tonight.
"You are rubbing off on me." Remi says suggestively, of having had a good idea. Still naked I guess, the alchemist matches his husband in collapsing onto the bed, sighing gratefully into their various furs and pillows. Reaching for one such pillow and tucking it under one arm, Remi reaches out to trickle his fingertips down the length of Ronin's arm, meaning to invite goosebumps. "I do not remember all of it, but gods this has been quite a day." He murmurs softly, more than content to keep only the blue of his husband's eyes in his field of vision.
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
In most other occasions Ronin would find the other man's confusion endearing, but right now it only serves as a reminder of the difficulties that tomorrow might bring. Again, though - that is for tomorrow, not for now. And so as Remi joins him in bed - and the tickling along his arm absolutely gets the desired reaction - Ronin greets him with a crooked smile. "Makes a change," he quips, "usually you're just rubbing me off."
His projection appears very briefly to blow out lanterns and dim lights, leaving them in a warm and flickering twilight. "Gods, you're telling me," he agrees, gazing up at his husband. "It's over now, though. We made it, like we always do." He lifts an arm to invite Remi to lay with him.
