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!
It's strange, the sorts of things you learn to get used to. When the prospect of real, bloody war creeps closer with each passing season, it stops being terrifying and becomes more of a distant concern, one that you can mostly shrug away. This seems to be the case for Isla tonight, anyway.
Her little house is lit with a haphazard spray of coloured lanterns, each carefully isolated so that they will cause no harm if they tip over. (No catching fire on date night, please). As for the medic, she's dressed in a pair of shorts and one of Varus's button-up shirts, her hair pulled up into a messy bun and a bottle of wine - half empty, by now - on the coffee table along with two glasses.
Just because they can barely taste it and they won't get drunk, doesn't mean they can't pretend. "You're going to look so pretty," she's telling Varus. Sitting cross-legged on the sofa, she's directed the captain to sit on the ground before her so she can braid his hair. And very proud of herself, she looks, too.
say a prayer, but let the good times roll in case god doesn't show
It’s just another one of those things at the end of the day. War is coming. War has been coming. And despite the fact it breathes down their neck, one has to make time for the smaller things. The memories that will certainly pull them through when they’re covered in mud and blood and the sorrows of what’s befallen them. So it’s here that he sits, equally cross legged where Isla’s directed him, gaze closed and head unknowingly tilting into the hands that rake and braid his long hair.
“That’s my secret power move. I stun my opponents with my beauty.” He rumbles with a hum of a laugh, trying to remain still even as he goes to pour another glass of wine for Isla as well as himself, careful to not spill any of the liquid. “Do ya think it’ll work?”
and i want these words to make things right, but it's the wrongs that make the words come to life
"I thought your secret power move was your charm and wit," Isla says, her fingers deftly weaving the braid into his hair. It's just enough to keep it out of his face, she thinks, humming out a note of satisfaction as she ties it off. "But I think it would absolutely work as a back up power move," she adds, gently tilting his head back to flash him a fanged grin.
"Or it would work, I should say, if you didn't wear a mask all the time. I'm not sure how any of your enemies are meant to be dazzled by your beauty if they can't see your face." Leaning in, Isla can at least take advantage of said beauty in the privacy of their own home, and she plants a soft kiss against his forehead. "And if none of that helps, I'll be around to patch you up."
say a prayer, but let the good times roll in case god doesn't show
“They gotta get close to see that part of it.” Varus hums a laugh, waiting for her to tie the braid off, only for the second it’s done to have his head tilted back and a fanged grin shot his way. He wrinkles his nose out of pure amusement, cocking a brow up at her as her comment hits and he snorts, chuckling lightly to himself. He remains just as is though, jaw dropping as if she’d just insulted the hell out of him.
But before he can jumble and formulate a response, she’s pressing a kiss to his forehead and all he can do is chuckle, playfully rolling his eyes as he lands those electric blues back on her. “Well I can’t stun everyone that I walk past, now can I?” He protests weakly, before he reaches up to try and grab her, shifting them around so that she might settle into his lap.
and i want these words to make things right, but it's the wrongs that make the words come to life
"Oh, I see," Isla says, letting out a peal of laughter as she's pulled into his lap. "But of course, once you're close enough for them to appreciate it, they'll be dead." Such is the way of an assassin, Isla snagging her refilled glass of wine and clinking it against his before taking a generous sip. It tastes like faint, citrusy nothing, but that will do for now.
Rolling her shoulders in a shrug, she peeps up at him as she sets her glass back down. "It might be useful in the war," she points out, sneaking another kiss to the corner of his mouth as she gets comfortable in his lap. "Stunning all our enemies would make it very easy to win battles, after all. You sure you couldn't make that sacrifice for us?"
say a prayer, but let the good times roll in case god doesn't show
“Exactly, see? You get it.” He teases, flashing her a charming fanged grin as she clinks her glass against his and he takes a deep sip of it. It doesn’t do anything for him either, but the effect and mental appeal of it is enough to sate him for the moment. Still, he watches her curiously as he sets his own glass down again as well, his metal hand finding her leg to run a surprisingly gentle hand along as she presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
He hums softly before he speaks, eyes closing for the moment before popping back open again the second she goes to pull away. “What would happen if I stunned our team, too?” He poses the hypothetical question. “Single handedly stopping the war with a charming grin.” He tuts, his voice taking on the dramatics as if he’s storytelling, his fleshy hand rising and waving in front of him for added emphasis.
and i want these words to make things right, but it's the wrongs that make the words come to life
"I do get it," Isla agrees, setting her glass back down and shifting to loop her arms gently around his shoulders, fingers teasing over the braid she's just woven into his dark hair. "Speaking of assassinations, you'll be pleased to know that I am quite protected against anyone deciding to murder me. Unless they're very determined, you understand." Her new shield can't really do much against multiple attacks unless she gives it time to recharge.
Oh, but then they are stopping the entire war with little more than Varus's smile to thank for it. "You forgot your perfectly chiselled jaw," she murmurs, one of her hands sneaking around to whisper across his cheek. "And your eyes like the ocean on a Longheat day." Sighing (and not having to pretend to be charmed), Isla nods her agreement. "It's decided, then. You go and smile at everyone and we'll just not bother with this war business."
say a prayer, but let the good times roll in case god doesn't show
His chin tilts up, those bright blues finding her face with ease and comfort, a few small wrinkles forming in the corners when the fanged smile is pointed her way. “Is that so?” He asks, his metal arm wrapping around her as the other rises to her cheek, threading through blonde hair like a comb. “Do share these mysterious ways of preventing murders and assassination. It’s for science, of course.”
Yet he can’t quite keep his gaze from softening when her hand brushes along his cheek – not that he can feel it, but he knows the gesture well enough by now. His smile falters into something gentler, more loving than charming, and he shrugs that metal shoulder with an almost reserved sort of movement. “Hm. I think it’ll be the card up my sleeve actually.” Varus offers softly, humming his own quiet agreement with the statement he’s just made.
and i want these words to make things right, but it's the wrongs that make the words come to life
"That is so," Isla confirms through a purr, nibbling at his thumb as his hand whispers across her cheek and into her hair. Leaning into the touch as if she can properly indulge in it, her smile is positively beaming as she engages her upgrade, and a diamond-like structure shimmers across her skin. "Does it suit me?" she asks.
As for leaving his smile as the trick up his sleeve, Isla can only shrug back to him. "Ah, well. I suppose I'll just have to enjoy it for now, then," she murmurs, leaning in to playfully kiss the tip of his nose. "You know, if we get out of this whole ridiculous thing alive, I'm going to throw a party," she decides.
say a prayer, but let the good times roll in case god doesn't show
Varus watches her from where she’s settled on his lap, hand slipping to rake through her hair. And when it comes to the upgrade just enacted, the Ascended can’t help but grin at the sight of it, both hands moving to dance along the diamond shielding. “You look radiant. Like you’re coated in diamonds.” He breathes, leaning forward and pressing against her a bit more as if he’s getting a good look.
His nose wrinkles as she leans in and places a kiss to the tip of his nose, his bright blues closing as she does so. He tilts up, pressing his own kiss to her chin and jawline, before humming his quiet agreement. “A party sounds great. Make sure I’m there this time to be a part of it and not buried under some hedge in Queen’s Gambit, would you?” A smirk is sent her way as he pulls back.
and i want these words to make things right, but it's the wrongs that make the words come to life
"Why thank you, Cal. Perhaps I'll include this as part of my jewellery selection from now on, mm?" She grins, preening under his scrutiny and turning this way and that so he can get a good, long look at the shield, before she disengages the upgrade and lets it drop. It's just in time for him to assault her with kisses, as it happens, but luckily this is the sort of assassination that Isla doesn't mind at all.
"I would never let you hang out under a hedge at a party. I imagine you could use an excuse to let your hair down more than most," she jokes, giving him a gentle nudge. "I reckon you're the type to dance on tables and sing terrible karaoke besides. And I don't want to miss that for the world."
say a prayer, but let the good times roll in case god doesn't show
“I’d say yes if it weren’t for the obvious.” He teases her right before he presses his lips to her, finding cool skin beneath where he’d imagined the diamond shielding would have made her skin hard, like kissing glass. He doesn’t find out, though, not that he’s complaining. If anything, he simply relishes in the closeness they share, drawling about being left behind under some godforsaken hedge in the middle of fucking nowhere.
Her confirmation of not letting him hang out there, though, has a small smirk blooming on his face when he pulls back from her nudge. “I’ll have you know that if you give me a fiddle I could serenade the best of them.” Another wink is shot her way, Varus leaning back now and tilting his head, the braid drifting slightly with it. “Karaoke is always fun, though.” He pauses, regarding her curiously. "Let me guess, you're the kind that would also dance on tables."
and i want these words to make things right, but it's the wrongs that make the words come to life
08-16-2022, 12:16 PM (This post was last modified: 08-16-2022, 12:16 PM by Isla.)
ISLA
"Oh, I'll give you a fiddle, we just need to be in a certain room," Isla says wickedly, grinning and letting her hands flow along his shoulders, as if to track every muscle and movement, even as flesh bleeds into sleek metal. "Or... oops, did you mean music?" she continues, coy as you like and leaning back to fetch her wine glass and finish its contents.
"I'll have you know that I was a perfectly respectable duchess in the past, Cal," she murmurs, leaning against him enough to let her head loll on his shoulder as she twirls the stem of her empty wine glass. "It was all very boring and above board. I did dance, though. Maybe I'll have to show you my moves one day, unless you're too busy fiddling."
say a prayer, but let the good times roll in case god doesn't show
Her wicked remark has an amused snicker leaving Varus’ lips, those bright blues of his squinting up at her as she runs her hands along his shoulder where flesh meets metal. “Well I did, but now I think I want to do that instead.” He muses, leaning forward and up just enough to place a kiss against her shoulder as she finishes her wine glass. It’s not like he’d complain which kind of fiddle she wanted him to play.
He pulls away slightly when she speaks next, leaning against him and resting her head on his shoulder as his hand rises to thread through her golden hair, tugging at the ends just enough it’d spark some amount of pressure to her sensors. “Could show me all the moves while I’m playing your fiddle.” He drawls with a playful smirk, another rumbling laugh of amusement bubbling from his chest as his other hand moves to lift her chin up so he can capture her in a kiss.
and i want these words to make things right, but it's the wrongs that make the words come to life
