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!
07-22-2022, 10:30 PM (This post was last modified: 07-22-2022, 10:31 PM by Talyson.)
The look Tal gave Cordelia wasn't at all convinced. Remi had been awfully grumpy the first time he'd met the man; one of his more reluctant recipients on his route last year. But he wasn't going to argue with her if she'd had a better run-in with the scarred demigod.
He was able to breathe a sigh of relief when she didn't pursue it further, but the relief was short lived as he wrinkled his nose at her in confusion. "I don't have-- Hey!" He realized too late what she was doing and tried to duck to the side, which only meant that he was a half floured courier.
"That wasn't very sweet of you!" he protested - while scooping up some of the spilled sugar from earlier and flinging it at her with a grin.
Cordelia lets out a squeal that isn't very ladylike. Not that anything about her is. She jerks away from the spray of sugar he sends her way. Plenty of it still manages to hit her and she glares at him playfully. "I hope your dodging skills are eggsellent!" The Shrike quips, cringing at her own pun as she snatches an egg from the counter and throws it at him with plenty of force that it splatters against his chest.
Laughing as the yellow yolk runs down his chest, Cordelia tries to dart around the counter, intent on ducking away from his next attack. "Nanana boo-boo!" She crows, sticking her tongue out at him as she continues to goad him on.
His grin faltered at her pun and as he put two and two together it turned to horror.
"What? Oh no, nononono--"SPLAT! He was still holding the mixing bowl so he twisted to take the hit on the shoulder as he hunched over their dough protectively, but that was absolutely the last straw.
Abandoning the bowl to the counter, he scooped the last gobs of butter out of the dish with his fingers and chased after Cordelia, caught between scowling and laughter as he tried to smear the greasy mess into her hair. "Butter not do that again!" he shot back, smug in how bad the pun was.
Cordelia was fast. Very fast. Except the kitchen was small and there wasn't much room to maneuver. He catches her wrist and his hand comes down in her hair, smearing the butter through her chestnut strands, making her shriek indignantly. "You little shit!" Her voice a mixture of outrage and laughter as she glares back at him.
She doesn't have a pun for him this time, grabbing her own handful of butter as she whirls around, smearing the buttery handful across his cheek and managing to get some into his nose. "I knew frostbite was a thing, but I didn't know butter bite existed." Cordelia snickers, taking a few steps back to put some space between them.
His grin was annoyingly smug (and a little floury) at her exclamation, and entirely unapologetic. Unfortunately, Deimos still hadn't hammered the habit of resting on his laurels out of the courier yet, and Tal was slow to react. He thought that he'd won, but then it turned out that Delia was just reloading he hadn't put enough space between them.
Not nearly enough.
He tried to dodge back and his stocking foot slid on some loose flour on the floor, making him an easy target for the Warden's buttery retribution. He spluttered in dismay and reached up to wipe the butter off his nose; getting most, but only smearing the rest of it worse. "Hey! Not in the face!" But he was laughing so hard he almost fell over as he protested.
His hand bumped a measuring cup of cream that had been meant for the icing. Alas... now it was meant for Cordelia, as Tal snagged it and flung the contents gleefully towards her so she'd have a mess to match his earlier egging. "Face it, Del - you're getting creamed!"
Rule number one, Talyson: Never let your guard down after an attack.
Cordelia might have been reeling from his buttery moves, but she was not down for the count. Absolutely not. Coming back with a handful of the mixture herself and getting him right in the face. Some of it definitely went up his nose. The Attuned couldn't contain the gleeful peal of laughter that rang out through the home, squealing in delight as her socked feet skid across the slightly slick floor, trying to get some distance between them.
It wouldn't help, however. Not when his next attack was a projectile.
She yelps as it covers the front of her sweater, splattering into her hair and sticking to her eyelashes. "You're lucky Noah isn't home. He'd have your head if he heard you say that." The warden quips, diving across the counter for the powdered sugar, flinging it at him and sending down a puffy cloud of white over his whole front. "Lucky for you I'm much sweeter and willing to forgive your slip up."
"Why? It's not like-- ooooooh!" Tal was a little slow to realize what Delia meant, but when he did catch on he froze in place, a look of panic settling over his face. "Shit, sorry, I didn't mean it like--ACK!"
His apology was interrupted by a cloud of powdered sugar he frantically waved away from his face while trying not to breathe it in. "Really?? Okay, it's time for you to cool off," he said, a mix of laughter and exasperation in his voice as he grabbed the ewer of water and made a stride through the settling sugar cloud in an attempt to dump it right over Delia's unprotected head.
It takes a moment for the joke to settle, but once it does, Cordelia can't help the peals of laughter that come from her. She grins wickedly his way, much like the cat who caught the canary, but her grin fades as her eyes widen instead. "No no no! Absolutely not! Tal I swear-" Thankfully luck and dice was on her side. The Shrike ducks out of the way as he attempts to drench her with the ewer of water. Instead it goes across the floor and counter, creating ever more of a mess of the already messy kitchen and she blinks in the aftermath of it all.
"Alright, alright, truce." Cordelia huffs, reaching for a dish towel to wipe butter from her face. "Let's get cleaned up and then we can finish these." She tosses him a spare cloth so he can start on his side while she works on hers.
Tal grinned, even though his 'attack' missed and splashed across the floor. He was already looking around for his next projectile when the call for a truce rang out. Pausing in his search he looked a little disappointed, but his hand slowly slid away from the egg basket. "Oh. Well... I guess," he agreed reluctantly.
Catching the cloth he looked from it to the mess they'd made... of the whole kitchen. The floor, the counters, each other... "I think we're gonna need a lot more towels," he said dubiously, but obediently started wiping himself down as best he could. "...An' maybe baths." He winced as he wiped his hair and smeared the flour and powdered sugar through it. "Might as well put the biscuits in to bake while we're at it, though."
"I'll run a bath." Cordelia says easily, letting him focus on the kitchen for the time being as she disappeared into another part of the house. The sound of running water reaches him all the way in the kitchen as the Shrike works. She's not nearly as messy as him and it takes a wet washcloth and a mirror to get herself sorted back out. Laying out a fresh sweater for Talyson on the counter, something that she'd worked on knitting the last few seasons in warm shades of burnt orange and red, socks to match laid on top.
She reemerges a few moments later, "The bath is ready and there are some clean clothes laid out for you too." Cordelia offers him a small smile, taking up her rag again, starting to clean up the remaining mess after slipping the sweet rolls into the oven to bake.
Tal looked the disaster zone over morosely as Delia went to clean herself up, but his sisters would kill him if he didn't help - and murder him twice over for leaving a mess in the new Warden's kitchen. So there was nothing else for it but to roll up his sleeves (sifting more flour and powdered sugar down when he did) and start from the top down, taking the towel and wiping down the cabinets first, then moving on to the counters they'd made a thorough mess of.
At least nothing had time to dry, and though it was taking a lot of trips to the sink to rinse the towel out he was able to get going at a pretty good pace. By the time Cordelia returned everything above knee-height had been cleaned and the remaining ingredients, bowls, and utensils had been scrubbed off and laid out with military precision on the damp but shining counter. The bowl of dough sat in pristine condition near the oven, just needing rolled out and sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar before being baked through.
The courier wiped a wet streak across his floury brow when she returned and bobbed his head in awkward gratitude. "Uh... thanks," he mumbled, a bit surprised that she'd taken him seriously. Not that he didn't need a bath, but he figured...
Well, he cleared his throat and shuffled back where she'd indicated. At least he didn't need a full bath, but he stripped to the waist so he could wash the various misfortunes out of his hair and scrub the worst of it out of his shirt and socks. Tugging the sweater and fresh socks on he reemerged, damp and tousled, and flashed his hostess a surprisingly shy grin. "Noah's?" he asked, tugging self-consciously on the hem of the sweater.
Cordelia left Tal to his cleaning up and couldn't help smiling at the fact that he had already taken care of most of the mess that remained in the kitchen. All that was left was to put the rolls together and get them in the oven. Something she was happy to work on while he cleaned up. Dumping the dough out onto the clean and freshly floured counter, the Shrike carefully rolls it out before spreading the strawberry mixture across the dough, beginning to roll them tightly to ensure a good swirl. She was in the process of cutting them when Tal reemerged in the borrowed sweater.
The sweater swam on him, confirming that it was in fact Noah's, something that made her smile. She hadn't actually seen it on anyone else except for herself the few times she'd tried it on in the mirror. "Yeah, it is. A gift. Figured you could wear it until your other clothes dry." Easily accomplished with hanging them in front of the fire. "Come put these on the pan after I cut them."
It really was way too big on him, but luckily the heavy work of the baking prep was done and it didn't really matter if the sleeves were too long and he had to roll them up to get them out of the way. Tal tiptoed over to the fire to hang his wet things up and then joined Delia at the stove, rolling the sleeves up a little higher - just in case.
He'd been expecting cinnamon and sugar, but his eyes lit up at the sight of the jam swirled into the roll instead. Obedient at first, he took the sliced pieces and set them into the pan with a finicky exactness to get the same distance between each one.
But all the while he was waiting for a moment when her back was turned so he could swipe a finger through the strawberry bowl and steal a taste, grinning as he managed the small victory with his dexterous speed.
Then it was just a matter of sliding the tray into oven and waiting for treats to bake and clothes to dry, chatting amiably and trading town gossip until the Festival's goodies were ready to go!
