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!
// seems like the whole damn world went and lost its mind & all my childhood heroes have fallen off or died. fake tears, real living, fake tears, but the alcohol never lies //
With Nate tucked away back at the VlamVloed, it’s an offer of walking Isla home — of potentially being able to talk with her more about how his first official meeting of the Voice went. It’s an awkward situation Sunjata finds himself in, recalling how Nate had wanted to be there for the first time he did, yet he also imagines that Nate hadn’t planned for things to go like this.
“At least he’ll be able to see.” He rumbles, running a hand through his hair, heaving a quiet sigh as they leave the VlamVloed, picking a different path, one that winds down alleys and streets of the Grounds, a bit of a long way around to get to Isla’s green door. “How are you holding up?” He asks, noticing her dimmed light as much as one notices a stain on a perfectly pristine piece of paper.
some princes don't become kings
SUNJATA
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.
Ordinarily Isla is very good company, happy and willing to engage Sunjata in conversation, but tonight things couldn't be further from the truth. Only at his insistence did she nod and allow him to walk her home, her hands buried in her coat pockets, her golden hair dishevelled and her eyes on the ground. "Hm?" She glances up as he speaks, a small smile tugging at her lips as she nods. "Yes, that's the main thing," she says. "He can speak with the Voice about an upgrade when he is back."
She doesn't notice which way they're going, following Sunjata's lead and dropping her eyes back towards the cobblestones. As for how she's holding up, she shakes her head even if it's barely perceptible. "Remi wrote me a letter," she mumbles. "He has gone to Ludo, to forget me for good. He will never recognise me again, or remember who we were to each other. And I..." Exhaling shakily, she shakes her head.
// seems like the whole damn world went and lost its mind & all my childhood heroes have fallen off or died. fake tears, real living, fake tears, but the alcohol never lies //
“Yeah.” Sunjata agrees easily, falling into the companionable silence as they walk side by side, walking along the cobblestone path that leads through most of the heart of the Grounds, taking a bit of a detour seeing as it appears Isla could use some time to pick through her thoughts, especially as she starts listing out what happened.
There’s a moment where he stutters in his steps, catching up immediately despite how his head immediately turns toward her. “Oh.” It comes out dumbly, Sunjata trying his best to figure out the right footing in this conversation to continue. Eventually he heaves out a heavy sigh, his attention drifting forward down the path as he reaches over to drape his warm arm around her, pulling her into his side. “I mean… Just because he chose to do it and forget you doesn’t mean you have to forget him, does it? Obviously it won’t be the same and it’s not going to be easy, but, you have people around you that love you and care about you too.” He pauses, casting a glance down toward her and offering a soft smile. “Perhaps we can help relieve the loss you feel, even if it’s only a little.”
And then he pauses, his steps slowing just enough to ensure she’s paying attention to him. “Is there anything I can do personally to help?”
some princes don't become kings
SUNJATA
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.
She folds against Sunjata easily enough, as if the wind has been entirely knocked out of her. Because where do you go when you can never see your best friend again without him wanting to murder you for being a filthy Ascended? (Really specific, but whatever). Letting out a shivery sigh as he starts to explain, Isla shakes her head.
"It wasn't really a choice," she mumbles. "He didn't want to do it. But I can kill him - for good. Or I could, anyway. If we ever saw each other in person, the Voice wouldn't hesitate to take that chance, I don't think." And so this is for the best. This will keep Remi safe. He'll be better off, and alive, and that just has to be good enough.
It isn't, though.
Not expecting to slow down at all, Isla is taken aback a bit when she gazes up and at Sunjata. No, she wants to say. No, I'll just head home. But gods, she doesn't want to head home. Varus is away and the Prince will be the Prince about it, and... and... gods, is it just her or does Sunjata smell really good? At this proximity, even her dulled senses can pick up on it.
Maybe it's because he's told her about his quest for Frey, or maybe it's just because Isla is hurting and reckless and she doesn't want to be alone, but rather than respond with words, she reaches up for his collar, pulling him down and into a kiss.
// seems like the whole damn world went and lost its mind & all my childhood heroes have fallen off or died. fake tears, real living, fake tears, but the alcohol never lies //
“Oh.” Comes the repeated comment of earlier, deflation in his shoulders dropping them ever so slightly as she continues, their steps slower. “So that’s what Wessex meant when we left Stormbreak.” Pieces falling back together, one’s that had been full of confusion and puzzle pieces that didn’t quite fit but such that Sunjata wasn’t going to question it. He has enough on his plate than to figure out the why’s and how’s of everyone else’s relationships.
What he doesn’t expect is to be stopped completely despite how slow their steps have become, her hand at his collar tugging him down and down into her lips. There’s a hesitation at first, but he knows he’s told her of his quest, he knows that she knows it’s his own typical type of coping, and she’s instigated it despite everything else going on. So the least he can do is give back, pressing into the kiss with a soft little huff as he turns to her more fully, arms wrapping around her lower back.
He breaks the kiss to search her gaze, reading between the lines. “Are you sure?” He asks her, wanting to make sure that this is what she wants him to do for her. He won’t complain in the slightest either way.
some princes don't become kings
SUNJATA
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.
04-26-2022, 01:33 PM (This post was last modified: 04-26-2022, 01:33 PM by Isla.)
we're always running scared but holding knives
"Yeah," Isla mumbles her confirmation, not that it will matter at all in a few seconds. And honestly, if he'd pushed her away (unlikely, but you know, it's a possibility) Isla might have done something even more reckless. Like cry. Or try to fight him. Or both. So this is good for the two of them, right?
Humming a note of warm need against Sunjata's lips as she feels him reciprocate, one of her arms slips around his shoulders, the other pressing against his chest, and it's partially to stay close and partially to stay balanced. Tall as he is, she's on her toes right now just to get close. "I'm sure," she mumbles, her voice a low whisper.
I just don't want to feel like this right now, she might have said. Or I don't want to think about things for a while, or Gods everything is just so fucked up but it's the same thing, in the end. She's sure, and she's already pulling him down towards her lips again. "Touch me," she mumbles into his mouth, even though it won't make much of a difference right now.
// seems like the whole damn world went and lost its mind & all my childhood heroes have fallen off or died. fake tears, real living, fake tears, but the alcohol never lies //
It certainly is good for the both of them – it’s the one thing Sunjata can do that he knows how to do. He’s hunched a bit, crouched into her space so that her arms can wrap around his shoulders easily, his own arms slipping around her and resting at the small of her back, hands resting lightly around her hips as he questions whether or not she’s sure about this.
But she is, and before long he’s getting tugged back down toward her, their lips meeting and his hands applying a bit more pressure to the jut of her hips as her demand is made. A shiver runs down his spine, pressing into the kiss ever so slightly more as he remembers where it is they’re standing and where it is the room that would make this that much more worth it for her.
So his one hand remains at her side, fingertips digging into her sides, above her hip while the other lifts to her neck and the golden crown of hair there, threading through as he walks her toward the room. It’s close, not too far, and before he seems to realize it, he’s panting through the kiss as he breaks it to pull her flush against him while he fumbles with the door to the room.
He manages to get it open, luckily, and pulls himself away from her to gesture for her to enter first – before he slides into the room right after.
some princes don't become kings
SUNJATA
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.
Isla is putty in Sunjata's hands as he frogmarches walks them towards a room she knows all too well. With a husband as an Ascended demigod, perhaps she should have known he would already be well aware about how to touch her, but she still huffs out a breath of surprise to feel firm hands squeezing at her hips, applying enough pressure for her to actually register that it's happening.
Of course, then he's holding the door open for her to step into the room, and everything else fades away. Sensation and arousal roar through her body, Isla almost snatching Sunjata away from closing the door so she can have more of him. "Fuck," she hisses, her tone one of need and frustration, and already she's pulling her shirt over her head so she can feel him against her properly.
With that done, she drapes herself up against Sunjata's chest, lips already seeking out his again, her deft fingers moving to unbuckle his belt.
// seems like the whole damn world went and lost its mind & all my childhood heroes have fallen off or died. fake tears, real living, fake tears, but the alcohol never lies //
He does know, intimately well – more applied pressure, bites and nips with more pointed pressure marks, not exactly against the taste of a bit of fluid on his tongue. It’s awful, sure, but for the results? Worth it in his opinion. However, making it to the room makes it matter a little bit less, because it hits him in what he imagines to be a bit less intense these days than it does for Isla – able to have these feelings and sensitivities wherever he is versus one space in the entirety of the continent.
He shuts the door, letting the warmth spread through his limbs, turning around to find Isla who’s already shed her shirt, dark brows rising in a bit of surprise but also influenced immensely by the room and who he is that it’s no surprise that when she presses up against him. He can feel her cool skin against his chest, over the fabric of his shirt and he’s torn between exploring her body more versus the hands that distract him at his belt, where he’s already growing hard with desire and need.
Their lips meet and Sunjata hums a sound into the kiss, his calloused fingers ghosting along her sides and her arms before they meet her at his belt, slipping it out of the belt loops and deftly unbuttoning his pants – leaving her to her own devices as he breaks the kiss to tear his own shirt off, tossing it in a heap alongside hers. “Let me feel you.” He purrs, pulling her a bit closer, hands returning to her now that he can feel her skin on his own, mangled, scarred, tattooed torso. His hands slip up, thumbs swiping the underside of her breasts before drifting up to ghost along and tease her nipples, seeking out her lips for another kiss again.
some princes don't become kings
SUNJATA
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.
Isla's lips and tongue are too busy to reply the way she wants to, but it doesn't seem to matter either way; her body and her moans will give Sunjata all the encouragement he needs. While he sheds his shirt, she continues to unbutton his pants, gasping into his kiss as his fingertips tease over her breasts. "The bed," she mumbles, before she completely disregards everything in lieu of having sex on the floor.
But if he'll let her, she'll tug him backwards (by the open pants, of course) towards the back of the room, down into crisp sheets and plump pillows. Hooking her legs around Sunjata's waist, Isla's touch is rough but thorough, as if she can't get enough of him. (Which she can't, obviously).
// seems like the whole damn world went and lost its mind & all my childhood heroes have fallen off or died. fake tears, real living, fake tears, but the alcohol never lies //
Oh, it is all the encouragement he needs – following her like a moth to flame as she tugs him back toward the bed, going willingly and almost a hint too eagerly. The sheets are a cool balm to his flushed skin, slipping down after her as she hooks her legs around his waist. He leans in, lips seeking out her own for a brief moment before he pulls back, trailing the kiss along her cheek, toward her neck, taking a bit of knowledge he has out of his playbook for Nate.
They might not be able to feel things so gently but that doesn’t meant they don’t feel, right? It’s all a game of pressure and Sunjata knows intimately well just what to do in this kind of situation. One hand tangles in her blonde locks while the other drifts down toward her clit, rubbing gentle circles along it as his blunt teeth find a space in what would be his sensitive part of his neck, and he latches on to apply enough pressure to distract her, adjusting the two of them enough to line himself up with her.
He hums against her neck as he pulls back, hovering above her as his blown steel searches her face for a brief moment, as if it’s the last time they can decide against it – but they’re already here now and Sunjata aches, the hand in her hair tugging lightly as he pushes himself in closer to her, hoping that she meets him in the middle to start.
some princes don't become kings
SUNJATA
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.
The weight and heat of his body is exactly what she craves, even as deft hands sneak between her thighs with the promise of further pleasure. Shifting to rid them of the last of their clothes - which would be laughable if she weren't so impatient - Isla tilts her head to welcome the rough pulling of her hair, the teasing against her clit, the bruising kisses just below her ear. "More," she almost begs, her fingertips threatening to sink blades into his shoulders as they skim down his back.
Sunjata draws back and she can feel the hard length of him pressed against her, and it's almost too much as well as not nearly enough. Leaning up to nip at his lower lip hard enough to draw blood, she tilts her hips up to meet him, her hand sneaking up to tighten in his crop of hair as she stifles her moan against his lips.
"Fuck me hard," she demands, her hips already rolling their encouragement.
// seems like the whole damn world went and lost its mind & all my childhood heroes have fallen off or died. fake tears, real living, fake tears, but the alcohol never lies //
He probably wouldn’t mind the blades sinking into his shoulders and spine, but his lips are too busy leaving silvery marks along her skin to speak, especially as she draws him both closer and greedily, the blood drawn nip to his lower lip sparking a twitch down his spine, down to his length, a growl of a sound leaving him that’s certainly in part due to the shifts under his skin. Iron is a strong taste on his tongue as he captures her lips with his swollen own, having heard her request, intending to meet it.
There’s one good thing about Ascension and that’s the lack of pain, something that makes it easier for him not to worry about whether or not he presses too hard, whether he’s got a leg of hers bent poorly. Little alleviating factors that allow him to tug on her golden locks, thumb pressing against her clit as he sinks into her, a bit slowly at first to ensure he is lined up before slipping into her fully with a tremble to his legs and arms, breath hitching and swallowing around a moan that escapes his chest. “Gods, Isla—” comes the quiet breath as he doesn’t waste any time, picking up that pace of fucking her hard as she’s demanded.
some princes don't become kings
SUNJATA
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.
There isn't any pain, and gods if that isn't a source of frustration for Isla. She almost wants it; she wants the pleasure to be so much that it hurts, but alas she'll have to make do for Sunjata's (more than adequate) efforts. A breath she doesn't need hitches in her chest as is thrusts become rough and unrelenting, the medic shifting beneath the Flood to allow him to hook her leg over his shoulder.
The pounding feel of him inside her and the press of his thumb against her clit has a mounting pleasure already beginning to build deep at her core, and Isla does her best to meet each buck of his hips. "Fuck, right there," she moans as he manages to find her precise rhythm, the medic leaning up to press her lips against the side of his neck, her teeth just barely threatening to break the skin. "Don't fucking stop--"
