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!
Evening began its diligent press over the surroundings – sunset alternating in prolific hues over the mountain range, orchestrating its cast and dyes across Halo’s reach, until even they were immersed in shadow and lantern light. An end to their own responsibilities and duties for the day, soldiers gone home to take of their own families, other patrols sent to march along twilight positions – with only the flicker of newfound scenery parading overhead in skyboats. Deimos glimpsed several casting off, wayward travelers hastening somewhere else for the dregs of the day, before the boyish, juvenile grin was sent towards the Evergreen.
Continuing onward, as if they were only partaking in a stroll towards dinner (he’d put some of that in his bag), with Belial trotting ahead, the Sword immediately beelined for the direction of Ru’s spa. The lack of fire glowing from the windows was an indication they were in the clear for the most part – maybe the Valkyrie was distracted by her own hunt for food, suitors, and whatever else she could snag. Deimos followed suit with their own opportunities.
Granting the peryton a nod, for which the companion hastened to the roof to serve as an invisible lookout, he checked on the door, pulling, to find Ru’s modest security remaining. The smile grew, full of mischief, as he turned to Evie in a conspiring whisper, intending to see what other skills she might have (before he made do with his own). “Do you know how to pick locks?”
Admittedly Evie hasn’t utilized the spa yet. It’s not that she doesn’t know Hotaru, their shops had been on the same street and the Valkyrie is nearly Deimos’ sister in all but blood, but the Evergreen had simply never found the time. Always torn between mending and medic duties, and then the responsibilities of Warden. She can’t help the gleeful smile on her face at the notion of finally visiting, though entirely inappropriately.
As Belial flies to the roof, Evie grins like a vixen, pulling a pin from her hair. “Absolutely. How do you think I got my hands on those novels without Sam knowing?” Kneeling, she inserts the pin into the lock, and works at it for a brief moment, making a noise of satisfaction when she hears the click of success. Swinging the door open, she ushers the two of them inside and swiftly but quietly closes the door once more, re-locking it. The interior is unfamiliar, more so in the dark, so she turns to Deimos for direction, Cheshire grin still in place. “Where to?”
An appreciative smile, the same boyish grin, and some smug notions of her capabilities incited his glance – should she catch the admiration in the moonlight. “Beautiful,” he rumbled with an air of ease, praising and flattering miscreant skills and appearances all at once. Stepping through, half-tempted to adjust his eyes into feline slits and let her meander through by only the touch of his hand, he obliged them both with turning his palm over and igniting a flame within. It should’ve been enough not to cast suspicion from outside, and to appeal to their senses.
He made note of several other things, before winding his way back to familiar rooms. “There was a mud pit,” to which he shrugged his shoulders – mostly remembering hurtling portions of it around. “And the massage area,” his nose wrinkling only slightly. “She tried to get me to wear - ,” then cut himself short, eyes narrowing briefly at the reminder, before shaking his head. “We can explore other parts too, I suppose.” Head turning and tilting in her direction, the subtle lift of his brow and more promised misdeeds. “What do you prefer?”
Her cheeks flush at the open nature of his compliment, still as easily charmed despite the time that has passed, and her eye-teeth glint in the low light as she grins and shepherds them into the spa. The exhilaration of being somewhere she shouldn't be is like a buzz beneath her skin, and the oppressive darkness can't hope to shroud that feeling with fear. With Deimos' hand guiding her, it has no hope of getting its claws in her, even before he lights up the room with a little flame that dances above his palm, casting intense shadows on his handsome face that makes her long to paint him.
Ginger brows rise immediately with gleeful curiosity as he cuts himself short, but teasing him now would only delay their fun. It's difficult to stifle, but a mud pit...
"I'd love to see the mud pit, but we can poke around on the way. Does she live here, too?" Eyes gleaming like cerulean fireflies with the notion of finding something fun in the spa, but wanting to know how nosy they could be. If Hotaru also lived adjacent to the spa, Evie would be horrified to come across something private or personal. Best to find a good level for their mischief and mayhem before they begin.
Deimos was used to sedition and mischief, embedded in his veins just as much as battlefields and blood, and utilizing it towards Ru, who probably wouldn’t have minded (or set some kind of a trap for this exact instance), amused him all the more. Waiting to hear which allure or enticement Evie favored, his brow arched at the mud pit notions, before nodding, and guiding them along to the exact location, remembering it fondly for only the motions he’d set about with Earth craft and devilry.
Where the Valkyrie contained her own quarters was a wotthwhile inquiry; they wouldn’t stumble upon something private here – not from Ru, who kept multitudes furtive and locked. “Yes. In the attached portion,” and he pointed towards an indicated direction.
Thereafter, the mud pit opened before them – just as he remembered – though much cleaner than when he’d last left it. He settled for snagging a nearby candle and permitting the flames to rest there, growing to ease their eyes and allow for some permeance of light. His eyes flickered to the stalls and changing rooms, giving a slight wrinkle of his nose, but figured the Evergreen would want to explore and meander.
With that section cordoned off in her brain as untouchable, the Evergreen practically skips along behind Deimos as he leads her through a section of changing rooms and showers to the mud pit beyond. Evie sticks her head into a few of the rooms, put out by the sterility of it all. It makes sense that belongings would go with their owners, but the lack of success in snooping doesn't dishearten her entirely.
After all, there is a giant mud bath to contend with moments later.
It's a massive shadow when lit only by the candles, but that makes it all the more exciting to explore. Evie dances around the outside of it, gauging the entry points and peering into depths that reveal nothing to the naked eye. "Wow, this is much nicer than I expected!" Not that she would ever imply it was because of the Valkyrie, notorious perfectionist, but because Halovians so often only cared about the basic necessities for life. Even a bucket full of mud and volcanic ash would have been a treat for them. Shucking her shoes, socks, and pants without a care, the Warden dips her foot into the mud and cringes with a laugh at the strange sensation. It returns to the tiled exterior moments later, leaving muddy footprints as she moves around to Deimos - intentionally, as evidenced by her Cheshire grin. "Should we go in, or see who can toss who in first?" she suggests competitively. As if devilry and juvenile antics were ever off the board. If they'd wanted to enjoy the spa as designed, they wouldn't have broken in.
He watched, shaking his head as the thrill and excitement murmured and cast aloft around the wide room, reverberating in something that sounded like a chuckle echoing off his chest too. “It is not bad. Warm too,” from what he recalled, and if it wasn’t, he could always alter the temperature.
His smirk wasn’t even remotely subtle as she paraded around with muddy footprints – though he made it a point in the back of his mind to ensure their evidence wasn’t so potent and obvious – and couldn’t help the snort that followed her next statement. She couldn’t have thrown him if she’d wanted to.
“You first then,” he instigated a moment later, quick and rapid, snaking arms around her middle and intending to toss her over his shoulder, only to be dumped unceremoniously along the edge, amidst and amongst the healing goop. The Sword backed away swiftly, intending to give himself some space and time before the inevitable comeuppance, already laughing as he shucked his own boots and socks.
Warm it is indeed, though with the fires banked and exhausted, it will surely cool quickly overnight. Luckily they are early enough that at most, Deimos will only need to warm it back up if they linger. Admittedly they likely will if Evie knows anything about the two of them.
When will Evie learn that she can't defeat him? Never, truly. Like a rubber ball she bounces back each and every time, optimistic and bullheaded, and yet that does nothing to prevent her from yelping and laughing as she's hoisted like she's nothing and is tossed into the mud pit. It's a lucky thing she'd taken off everything but her shirt and undergarments, which are now certainly lost causes.
Surfacing with a muffled shriek - she refuses to open her mouth until it's wiped clean - Evie succumbs to her laughter even as she wipes her face clean to be able to see him clearly enough to send a few charmed balls of mud pelting his way. Whatever chaos and mess they make can be cleaned given the smooth tile, but she intends to leave her mark on him.
A catlike grin eclipsed his features in the firelight, hastened by the shriek and muffled laughter. His own was a boom across the open room, loud and wild, reverberating back as she returned for air and volleys. He didn’t even bother ducking – the inevitable swing of vengeance was harsh and unwinding and ridiculous; his shirt immediately bombarded by a ball of mud, before his pants met the same fate. The crash of another pelted mass hitting the wall behind him, and then sliding down almost comically, had him figuring on eventual pressure washing of the entire room.
Tempted to rally another mutinous spread, he only shrugged his shoulders; completely unbothered by the arrangements – stripping away the rest of his garments until it was only boxers and skin and flesh and muscle, before meandering, much like a predacious, untamed thing, along the sides.
And then snagging at mud until it was lifted along air incantations, intertwining, molding, rotating, revolving, biding his time. It slowly grew and grew, taking from more of its boggy brethren, before accumulating into a noteworthy acclaim, and then chucked at the Evergreen.
Her success has her crowing, discordant harmony to his booming laughter as it echoes in the large empty space. It's a temporary victory - Deimos can clean and dry his clothes with magic before they even exit the spa - but they are proverbial points in Evie's favor in her little book of meaningless mayhem.
She does pause long enough to ogle appropriately as her partner strips, flashing a grin that is far whiter now in contrast to her muddied face, waggling her eyebrows ridiculously. Only for them to still and slowly draw together and down as her eyes narrow, eyes flickering upward as the mud begins to shift and move around her, recalling a similar act in the springs. "Don't you dare," she warns, and moments later shriek-laughs as it hurtles to her, bringing her forearms up to shield herself at the same time as she uses her own earth magic to cut as much of a path through the giant bubble as she can in the shape of her body. It splits, but messily, leaving her further sprayed. An arc of her hand sends a cohesive wave up and over the edge of the pool in an attempt to spray up his legs in revenge, grateful that the thickness of the mud ensures she can't tip over from the force of his antics as had happened in the springs.
Oh he dared, and often, casting another juvenile grin as the mud committed to its acts regardless of the split proportions. It was enough to have it spray over her regardless, compelled in its complexity to warrant lacks of grace. The answering laugh rallied alongside its brethren, until he might’ve been clutching the sides of his ribs – watching as the mass seemed to stick everywhere, from pool to person. “Very therapeutic,” he responded in another gale of chuckles, because it was at some juncture. All their foolishness, all the ridiculous harmony, was a wall and fortitude beyond the stupidity, the gripes, the animosity, the hostility, and the doom lingering on all sides.
The arc along the edges of the pool mauled his legs, until his feet might have been covered in the warm muck, but he shrugged, indifferent to the cause when he could simply return the favor. Given the multitudes of ammunition, and now even more as Evie ricocheted the elements back towards him, he took the advantage with an undulation and current of his own, launching and casting off the ripple with a wider oscillation.
His laughter, his joy, is a contagion she would never dream of trying to protect herself from. She beams up from the pool, dirtied beyond all recognition, and the world outside - the future that lingers there, waiting, hungry - starves for a few hours more, unable to even inflict upon her the weight of worry when faced with the joy she feels at seeing her lover so carefree. "I see why people come here now. We should come more often," she says with no small degree of feigned innocence that is belied by her toothy grin. Breaking in had been half the fun so far.
The returned wave makes her yelp, swept along by it in a strange, sticky way that she can scarcely describe. The mud keeps her mostly upright, but the force of Deimos' magic convinces the matter to be distinctly wave-like. It's hilarity inducing, and she laughs freely as she straightens herself with far more difficulty and intent than would have been involved in water. "Come in already! I don't want to risk tripping you on that tile!" Never wanting to truly harm him, even in the case of minor bruises.
He snorted at her beaming grin; especially with the mud splattered on her features, though it was never in misconduct, rather amusement, grateful for the times they had, the opportunities shared, before the inevitable. He crouched purposefully by the rim, content to watch and witness for a few moments more as the wave rolled and cast in the thickened, medicinal components. “Of course. Ru would certainly appreciate it.” Given the state of the room already, the facetious remarks causing his seditious smile.
At the insinuation that he’d yet to even get in, he chanced a put-upon sigh, taking the opportunity to knot his long hair back into a bun, before glancing back at the pool. Eventually, he caved again, a long stride downwards, hitting the bottom and letting it rise and swell around them.
Considering the temperature, he altered the warmth so that it radiated and pulsed; not unlike the hot springs, coiling around muscles until they eased. Thereafter, he eased back along one of the sides, back along the fringes, purposefully stretching out one of his legs to see if he could touch and shock her from a distance.
"We're doing her a favor really. Patronizing our favorite business," she agrees, just as facetiously. Though she wades forward as he begins to put up his hair, eager for him to join her in the strange, medicinal depths. Evie has to give it to Hotaru; though she has been distracted with juvenile delinquency, the mud bath is delightful enough to be recognized.
As Deimos begins putting his hair up, the Evergreen perks up and begins to wade forward, only to pause as she sees him take a stride backwards. Belatedly realizing his intent, she backpedals, snorting a laugh as he jumps in. Luckily the spray is far more minimal with mud, so she begins to move toward him once more as he reclines against the outer wall. Evie runs into the shock shin-first, and gives a strangled yelp, reaching out to lightly slap his bicep as she glares ineffectually at him, lips twitching. "Rude," she says pointedly, and then seeks out the bench and sits beside him, sliding sideways to fit herself against his side. "We can relax for a little bit and use the bath properly to redeem ourselves for the break in." As if the logic is entirely sound. Evie drops her head onto his shoulder, smiling into his skin, and exhales slowly.
