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!
you can tell how dangerous a person is by the way they hold their anger inside themselves quietly
He thought nothing of her movements, presuming the closeness was for evaluation purposes of his sketching, and not some ensuing plot. Head still tilted downward, contemplating the next statement, he considered the possibilities and parameters, mind affixed to movements and motions of weaponry. “Which would be very amusing,” he snickered, picturing decimated adversaries along training grounds’ whims and caprices. “I think you should go for-,”
Whatever words were left parsed out of his mouth the moment his eyes lifted, frame and figure going completely still, gaze widening, as she simply snagged the remains of the peppers out of his mouth. Had he been faster or presumed it coming, there might’ve been some form of vengeful tactics. For all their teasing and taunting, neither of them had quite pressed the boundary lines – though they’d come dangerously close - and then she settled back, as if nothing had happened. The Sword didn’t know whether to be affronted, offended, or bewildered – pulse tightening, breath shortening, heart barreling in between rib bones.
Blinking a few times and settling for a snort, he grabbed the remains of the snacks (two apple slices and one carrot), tucking the plate away into his bag, and snagging at something else he’d laid hidden in there for after. On a wicked note, and as some form of payback, he raised his jaw, defiant and seditious. “Now you will not be getting any brownies.”
While she’d initially moved closer for that very reason, as she gleefully takes in the stunned expression she has sown on his handsome face, Evie finds herself grateful for the perfect placement she’d unintentionally given herself. The peppers are sweet and bright against her tastebuds, but they scarcely manage to distract her from absorbing his reaction. She had been content to let him set and keep unspoken boundaries, afraid to push on areas that might be sore and forbidden, but alone here with hours of contentment surrounding them on both sides she can’t help but push the line a little further.
They hang in the moment, Evie poised on the proverbial edge, pulse high in her throat as she waits for him to make some sort of choice in his reaction. Only to gasp, affronted, at his form of revenge as the sparse snacks are ushered away and something far better - and now forbidden - is brought to the fore. “You didn’t say you had brownies!” she objects, eyes bright with mirth even as she pulls herself along the wall until his knee just barely presses against her side. “Don’t be hasty, we can make a deal right?” Wheedling an offer to barter on the backs of apologies and favors, intent on reparations that would ensure access to the grand, chocolatey reward.
you can tell how dangerous a person is by the way they hold their anger inside themselves quietly
Something settled in him once the tables were turned – more at ease when he knew the heights of the game, or when he could alternate some cycle of vengeance. This one wasn’t petty or begrudging, but he had to find some base of normalcy before contemplating the next maneuvers. Shoving the rest of the fruit and vegetables into his mouth, and out of her range, he took those moments to decide, a cheeky tilt to his head as he traded surprise and shock for renewed mischief.
Recovered, he folded his arms over his chest, tucking the bag of desserts beneath muscled forearms and biceps, inaccessible while she objected, seditious jawline raised higher again. Perhaps he’d gotten the gesture from Zuriel. “It was meant to be a surprise. I bartered for them at the cheesecake stand.” Granting another snort, his features registered into an indifferent haze, airs and pretenses, maybe a signature of senses from another life and time. Digging his heels in deeper, the rumble in his chest bordered on devilry and impishness. “What sort of deal? Do you have something to trade?”
Not only does he forbid her from the dessert, but he consumes the rest of the fruits and vegetables - leaving her on the back foot and willing to risk anything and everything for a square of the precious food that he guards behind folded arms. Arms that she seeks out, hands prying uselessly at his forearms as she pulls herself in front of him in the water between his knees to try and free the coveted parcel.
It’s a Herculean task, not pouting, but she manages it by a hair. If she’d had even an inkling of the gifts he had tucked away, would she have given into her impulses?
…admittedly she probably still would have.
Regardless!
His kingly veneer is nigh impetuous, and she can’t help the laugh that bubbles beneath her tone as she tries to weasel her way back into his good graces. “Nothing you couldn’t make yourself, but maybe a favor?” It’s a weak suggestion, but she’s desperate. “I’ll do anything!” A bit dramatic, and her eyes crinkle with amusement, but until he gives her a hint of an opening that can be utilized she has to poke and prod.
you can tell how dangerous a person is by the way they hold their anger inside themselves quietly
It was very childish, but his arms held fast, not forgoing any portion of the dessert as her hands pried. It was trivial and minor in the state of the world at large, but amidst their clamoring and circling, he considered dominion over brownies a triumph. Eyes narrowed, almost as if he were looking down his nose at her, signatures of pretenses she’d already garnered, given the laugh. “A favor,” he stated and reflected, tasting the words on his tongue; giving a long, weighted pause to the consideration.
After a few moments, like when he was about to deliver a lecture to his soldiers, he shifted. Turning out of her reach, careful not to relinquish the confections, he grabbed at another object in his bag: a large scale, belonging to a leviathan, and a necessity in a current quest. He shifted back quickly, piercing eyes lingering on her face for a moment, before purposefully, slowly, leaning in, mouth hovering just beyond her ear – enough for a breath to unfurl and linger against skin or curling, crimson tresses. Voice a low rumble, purposefully controlled and contorted, like a fervent whisper, hastening payback. “Hold this.”
Then he reached out, placing the object in her hands, and backed quickly away; as if he’d never been near her at all, and a very minor explanation to follow. “I need to set it on fire.”
The wait is agonizing, not unlike how she imagines a servant would feel before a king, waiting to be released or punished for spilling wine on his cloak. He knows how to captivate a room and make them hang on every heartbeat, and though she is his only audience she’s not immune to the effect.
She isn’t expecting him to turn away and bring back a giant scale. Any confusion on her face melts away into something stricken and flushed as he leans close, heart rabbiting halfway up her throat to nestle in the soft spot below her jaw, pounding louder than the bubbles and the echoes of their laughter in the caverns. Evie holds still, scarcely daring to breathe lest she be the one to break, and as enticing as that idea is, it wouldn’t secure her those brownies - which are far more important right now.
The scale in her hands jolts her back to herself, his abrupt departure leaving her spinning adrift, cheeks flushed and lips slightly parted. Only to part further around a yelp at his blasé explanation, clutching the scale to her chest. “What?!” she squeaks, trying to get her brain back up to speed. When it does, she scowls fiercely at him, still crimson tinged. “You better have perfect aim,” she warns, moving her fingers to hold onto the smallest bit of the scale as possible without dropping it into the water. Holding it out to the side just to be extra sure. As confident as she is in Deimos’ magical capabilities, she’s still tempted to hurl the scale at his head and snatch the brownies while he’s dazed. “And those brownies better be worth it.” A mostly empty threat, but they both already know that.
you can tell how dangerous a person is by the way they hold their anger inside themselves quietly
His lips formed a devilish candor at her reaction, utterly bemused at the effects of flushed cheeks and squeaks – vengeance swift and keen. The Sword didn’t even need to laugh, barely bothering to muffle anything else, the Cheshire grin far too laden and amused. “I will,” he promised, because the man was often a hallmark of precision, and the few times he hadn’t been, it’d only wounded people like the Flood.
But he seized her warnings in stride, taking a deep breath, failing at wiping the smug smirk away. Keen and emboldened, the fiery embers rose to the forefront of his veins. Maybe they were hastened by other thoughts. Perhaps they contemplated a whole series of smoldering depictions, embers stoked and refined. He wouldn’t say. Instead, the General unfurled the proportions of infernal victories straight at the scale, and nowhere near Evie’s outstretched limbs, watching as it absorbed the power and might.
When the beast thought it enough, he snagged the scale back, and opened the bag to hand her over a single brownie. “Thank you,” he nodded, and figuring maybe she deserved an actual explanation, he began snagging another one of the desserts into his palm. “Quest for Safrin. It is for armor against dark magic.”
Despite the initial, instinctive terror of it all, it’s undoubtedly an exercise in mastery and one that Evie is quite honored to witness so close at hand. The fire lights up her pale skin, flickering color like a painter’s brush over an ivory canvas. Her hands stay steady, to aid in the efforts and to preserve her own safety at the same time. It seems over far too soon, having been mesmerized quite easily the moment he started, not unlike a moth to a literal flame.
Handing the scale back over, she eagerly plucks the brownie from his offered hand before he can retract it. Not putting it past him to do so. The explanation is nearly missed as the Evergreen is busy melting into the side of the springs as she savors the thick, velvety richness of the brownie square in her mouth. Eyes fluttering open she refocuses reluctantly, chasing a lingering bit of chocolate on the corner of her mouth with her tongue. “That’s a great idea. What more do you have to do to it?” And though she has yet to finish her current provided square, already she is eyeing the bag in his hands, covetous and impish. “Thank you. They’re definitely worth it.” She winks and takes another bite, savoring it anew.
you can tell how dangerous a person is by the way they hold their anger inside themselves quietly
Many elements lived within his veins – life drain the first, but fire had always been the second, mastered, contorted, controlled, amid bloodlines or some other unspoken enigma. He wouldn’t have touched or scorched her with it, not the emblem of flames themselves, and perhaps she’d known, given the stillness.
Glancing back at the Evergreen, the Sword surmounted that she was most definitely leaving food around her mouth on purpose (yes, he’d been noticing, and no, he wasn’t going to fall for it). Leaning back, seemingly out of her arm’s length and range, he bit off a piece of his own brownie, savoring the confection along his tongue, a deep rumble beginning in his chest for the satisfaction and contentment alone. “Need one more dark magic, and to skirmish with someone who will use theirs on me,” came along explanations, forthright while he consumed. “I can probably irritate Ru into using her lightning on the scale, and Sah for the training.”
Sensing Belial hovering nearby (likely for the brownies), he draped the bag along his lap and over his thighs for safekeeping and warding, not catching Evie’s covetous appeals and glances. “You are welcome,” he wrinkled his nose in turn, though she’d had to work for it. “When you are done, we can practice again.”
Was it intentional? Perhaps. But she also refuses to be wasteful with such a prime example of a delicacy, and any remnants are consumed expeditiously once the bait is not taken. Waste not, want not. If she sucks her fingers clean, it’s just for the same reason. Though she does grin at the idea of Deimos harassing and haranguing the Valkyrie. “And here I thought your irritations were a tactic just for me,” she pouts slightly, only capable of holding the expression for a moment before her smile ruins it, incapable of acting on such a level.
As his eyes go up, to Belial and his covetous machinations, Evie is awarded the opening of a lifetime. “When I’m done, absolutely,” she confirms, and then like a striking snake snatches the bag from his thigh and hauls herself out of the water to run, too aware of the power he held within the water to risk staying in its depths. At least out here, he couldn’t afford to tackle her without harming them both on the rocks, and her earth magic could counter his own. Truce broken, all for the sake of chocolate. He should have seen it coming really. As she runs she tries to scoop another brownie out and into her mouth before her inevitable capture or forced evasive maneuvers.
you can tell how dangerous a person is by the way they hold their anger inside themselves quietly
To be fair, all his friends and cherished constituents were permitted his reign of terror – whether it be tricks or mischief, hurled snowballs or thrown proportions of mud – and if that seemed like backwards thinking he’d never readily admit it. Besides, he was content in sparking and seizing purposeful goadings here and now. His brows furrowed for a moment, a pretense of confusion. “Did you want special treatment?” And from there, a massive grin –
Not even to be diminished when she snatched the brownies.
Though, thereafter, all he did was sigh as she took off with the bag. “Really,” uttered under a low rumble, predictable at best, and they’d held the truce far longer this time, considering other encounters. He rose from the stones, finishing off the last vestiges of his dessert, brushing his hands together and wiping off crumbs onto the wet floor. Taking his time, analyzing measures, contemplating counter-tactics, folding his arms over his chest while he surveyed the scene, not moving another muscle. Perhaps he didn’t need to.
“Belial,” was a single command before the peryton was on the move, swinging low, hovering over Evie’s head. Fanged teeth reached around arms and limbs, careful and precise, to snag at the bag in return.
It’s a shame she has other things to focus on, like stealing the brownies on his lap, because it means her parting comment is; “And what if I did?” She doesn’t intend to go far, perhaps to run around the springs and pools in circles playing keep away with the fudgy squares because the tunnels beyond are far too intimidating barefoot and effectively naked.
Belial’s involvement is unforeseen, and she squeaks as the peryton dives, but she swiftly pulls a chunk of the brownies out (no more than a hearty pinch of course) and uses her telekinesis to try and offer it up to the peryton in exchange for her freedom with the stolen goods. “Cheater!” she calls towards Deimos, grinning and squishing the back to her stomach in case Belial doesn’t take the bait. “You should have just shared, this is a lesson for your own good.” Eyeing the cannibalistic deer, the Evergreen hesitates, trying to determine how to take a square out for herself without putting the bag in snatching range.
you can tell how dangerous a person is by the way they hold their anger inside themselves quietly
It was a cat and mouse game between two very stubborn fools, and he wasn’t certain which was which at this point. “Then do something about it,” was quipped in return, and she could take the meaning any way she pleased – watching as she seemed to run around in circles. Maybe it was the sugar. His expression remained largely unchanged, flickering back to half a grin, and the rest of his features mostly impassive and apathetic.
As for being called a cheater, he snorted. “You broke the truce.” It was Belial he had to ensure understood the assignment anyway – especially as chunks were beginning to disappear at a rapid pace. The command went silent thorugh their bond, for he could see the peryton’s eyes widening at the offered proportion – and it probably took every ounce of the carnivore’s willpower to not go for the treat.
“I did share,” the General sighed, urging his companion on as the beast swung again, fanged teeth grabbing the end of the bag, and pulling.
She can see Belial’s internal struggle, but it’s not enough, and she pops the treat into her own mouth instead lest it go to waste. It’s a good move, because Belial’s teeth snag the bag moments later, making Evie jump back with a squeak at the nearness to her belly. The bag comes free; even her shouted, laughing objection doesn’t stop the inevitable.
Turning back around to Deimos where he remains lounging, she shoves him playfully in the shoulder before sitting down beside him, shoulders brushing. “I got my extra brownie, I consider that a worthy cause for breaking the truce.” Affecting an imperial air, she sniffs delicately, chin tilted high. Until she glimpses him from the side, and a slow smile creeps on her lips. “If you wouldn’t tempt me with such good things, I wouldn’t have to break my word.” Crossing her legs, she grins unrepentantly, soaking in the heat of him next to her and the steam curling up her calves.
