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!
angel loves to keep me spinning, much too high to see that all these chains have started thinning & hell is breaking free
Moving on was a concept Sunjata at present also struggled with — but at least in his instances he had the opportunity to ignore it by any other means (namely drinking until he couldn’t feel it anymore and managed to sleep through the night). But she continues on and he’s partially glad for it, unable to find the words to offer so he instead takes a long sip from his glass again to finish it off before pouring himself another ounce and offering the bottle to her should she wish to top off too.
Even if it doesn’t really do anything for her.
“I would care.” It’s a quiet admission, given the fact that he’d cared about all of the Ascended. That it namely was part of who he was at this point even though he hadn’t become one of the few. “And so what if she does? I fought for the Ascended, I’d fight for the Ancient.” His heart sat with the underdogs. It always had.
As for it being scary, he raises his glass in another toast to that. “It is. But nobody grows without doing something scary from time to time, right?” He was living proof of it too, with each day and the prospect of a brothel adding more fear and worries into his mind. He does it because he can grow from it, change who he is and how he is. At least he hopes he can.
every choice, every lie, demons that he kept inside angel now that i've stopped spinning, could you come clean?
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.
"Oh, I didn't mean--" Flushing, Isla realises how it must have come across, and it's with a self-deprecating sort of smile that she nods to Sunjata. "Thank you, though." They've been through this before - they'd both give a fuck if the other decided to throw in the towel. Maybe it was time Isla started to believe it. And so with a deep sigh she doesn't need, the medic forces her shoulders to relax, lets Sunjata top off her drink, and clinks her glass against his own.
"Shut up," she snarks playfully, rolling her eyes at his entirely, completely valid points. "Alright. After Longnight, when the sun comes back up and this place has officially opened, I'll go to the Climb." Already nerves begin to spark and flutter in the pit of her stomach, but Isla does her best to smile through them. "You'll come with me, right?"
Partially because she might literally catch fire and explode and his magic would be useful. Mostly because she wants him to, though.
angel loves to keep me spinning, much too high to see that all these chains have started thinning & hell is breaking free
Whether she meant it or didn’t mean it, Sunjata’s past the point of not being able to read between the lines on anything. The war had been hard, a shakeup, and he hadn’t even participated in it. Things weren’t the same in the slightest. So at her thank you he offers a rumble of a hum from his throat, a knowing nod, as their glasses clink and he takes another sip.
At her snark, however, Sunjata laughs, playfully rolling his eyes at her in return to her own. As she settles though, he settles too. “Of course I’ll come with you.” He says it as if it’s been his plan the entire time. Which, it might have been, who would’ve known? “At least then you might be able to participate fully if you wanted to.” He teases her, trying to bring the subject back to jests and playfulness.
every choice, every lie, demons that he kept inside angel now that i've stopped spinning, could you come clean?
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.
Hiding her relief behind a smile to hear that he'll go with her, Isla takes a long drink from her glass - little good it'll do - and sets it down again, kicking her heel back against the bar stool. "Participate fully hm?" She raises her eyebrows at him. "As a customer or a worker? Part-time medic, part-time whore would probably cover someone's kink."
Her tone is jovial but the scrunch of her nose suggests that's not a path she's keen to really walk down. You can take the girl out of nobility, and so on. "And what about you, hm? Are you planning to show the rest of the House of Midnight the ropes, given the whole Frey demigod business?" She grins.
angel loves to keep me spinning, much too high to see that all these chains have started thinning & hell is breaking free
A rumble slips from Sunjata’s throat, breaking into a chuckle as he shakes his head. “I meant it as if you wanted to blow off steam from time to time.” He explains before delving into her own comment. “Don’t hate on the doctor/nurse kinks.” He teases her lightly — after all, Nate had been a doctor, Lusea had been a medic in her own right, and Phoebe was a midwife. Perhaps it says something about him, but he doesn’t read into it initially.
As for him, he sips from his drink once more and the liquor finally starts to fuzz his mind a fraction, loosening his lips and keeping his mind away from the darker topics for the time being as he readjusts in the seat and goes to run a hand through his hair around the spiraled horns. “I feel like I’d have to, right? Can’t exactly avoid it given who I am.” He could, but what would that say about him?
At least it’s gotten a bit easier to sleep around these days. Though the liquor and drugs have certainly helped on occasion to get him out of his head.
every choice, every lie, demons that he kept inside angel now that i've stopped spinning, could you come clean?
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.
"Mm, maybe," Isla agrees with him with a cheeky smile as he clarifies. "The idea that I could even be able to blow off steam is a strange one right now, honestly." How would she manage it, being able to feel and eat and drink and all the rest of it, after so long? (Hint hint: stay tuned to find out). Still, as she realises she's stumbled right into kink-shaming territory, her cheeks flush silver and she covers her mouth with her hand to hide her laughter.
"I am so sorry," she says, before tilting her head at him suddenly, a wickedly teasing slant to her expression. "Oh, is that why you wanted me to come and make a clinic here, hm? Just wanted a white coat to look at?"
His response about the participation, though, isn't one she entirely expects, and Isla nudges her glass against Sunjata's as if to prompt him to clarify. "I mean, I thought Frey was all about consent," she murmurs. "You don't have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable, regardless of who you are. I guess I just assumed you'd want to, I suppose."
angel loves to keep me spinning, much too high to see that all these chains have started thinning & hell is breaking free
He refrains from mentioning that the last (and only Ancient) he’d ever met had been a whirlwind at it in favor for watching her backpedal her kink shaming. A playful smirk tugs on his lips, twisting the edge of his mouth where the scar sits as he goes to shake his head to her apology before spying the look she gives him. “I do love looking at white coats.” He teases her, a wink from his steel gaze as he watches her before it fades into easy chuckle, before that, too, fades into the solemness of what he says.
He realizes shortly after that he hasn’t explained it well, given the clink of her glass and her explanation and he flashes her an easier smile. “They are.” He clarifies, drawing up slightly in his seat as he rests his elbows along the wood of the bar top. “And it isn’t like I don’t want to. I do. It’s just… Taking me a while to get over feeling guilty about it.” It was his number one way to cope, but he can’t help but to feel guilty any time he tries. And with the alcohol and the drugs to shift his mind away from the past, he can focus on not feeling the guilt that he doesn’t know how to get rid of. "Though maybe the more I indulge the less I'll feel it." He poses the thought curiously, absentmindedly, taking another sip of the liquor in the glass.
every choice, every lie, demons that he kept inside angel now that i've stopped spinning, could you come clean?
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.
"So that is why you were always at the Infirmary in the Grounds," Isla says with a playful snap of her fingers. "It's all coming together now, Sunjata. You can't fool me." Raising her glass as if to toast him, the medic finishes off her drink and sets it down. Her sensors and internal mechanisms are already burning through the alcohol such that it's pretty much like drinking water - and she doesn't even need that - so unfortunately the Flood will be the only one feeling its effects.
At least one of them will be able to climb the stairs later though, right?
Letting her finger run along the rim of her glass, she hears Sunjata out with a gently furrowed brow. "Why do you feel guilty?" she asks him, shifting to get more comfortable on the bar stool. "Is it because of what happened with Phoebe? Or because you think Nate wouldn't want you to...?"
angel loves to keep me spinning, much too high to see that all these chains have started thinning & hell is breaking free
Perhaps she’s right, that it was a huge part of him visiting and sticking with the Infirmary. Never mind the fact he constantly got into some scrape or another, ending back up there time and time again. So she finishes off her glass and he takes a sip to toast to it as well, before shrugging a shoulder gently at her question.
He doesn’t know why, he just does. But at the mention of Phoebe, he internally winces slightly and begins to wonder if that was the problem all along. “Feels like if I do, then it’s like I’ve moved on.” And there’s a larger part of him that hasn’t, that doesn’t want to, that wants to have those moments where he can still pretend Nate’s off in the refuge or at their prior home, working on the garden they’d put together in the hopes of a long full life.
He finds himself staring at the glass. “Like if I do move on, then it’s like he didn’t really matter to me.” It’s what kept him teetering on that edge of uncertainty, that feeling that he can’t get past.
every choice, every lie, demons that he kept inside angel now that i've stopped spinning, could you come clean?
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.
Perhaps it's that white coat of hers (and the qualifications that earned it), but Isla is thoughtfully silent for as long as it takes for Sunjata to figure things out in his mind. It's a path they've both walked down in these past few seasons, and after the Festival of Lights Isla is feeling particularly honed in on those sorts of feelings. When the Flood finally does speak, it's with a sad smile that she reaches out to let her fingers brush across the back of his hand.
"You know that isn't true, though," she murmurs. "And you know Nate wouldn't want you to feel like that either. But at the same time... believe me when I say I get it." Breathing out a wry laugh, the medic gazes around at the bar they've constructed. "Sometimes even looking back at everything we've done so far feels too much like moving on, you know?"
But then, given the conversation they've just had regarding the Ancients, she feels like she has to plough forward. "Whatever you decide, I'll be here if you ever need to talk," she tells him. "It's the least I can do."
angel loves to keep me spinning, much too high to see that all these chains have started thinning & hell is breaking free
He does know it isn’t true, but the rational part of his mind and the one that wants things to go back to how they were are often at war with one another. Enough so that Sunjata tries his best to focus on the numbing of his emotions, the numbing of everything else. The liquor right now is helping, giving it that muted dull ache rather than the one that causes the pit of his stomach to drop, so he watches the hand that brushes along the back of his for a few moments before his gaze rises back to Isla.
“I appreciate it.” He offers her, refraining from adding a likewise, because he’s already told her so again and again. Instead he opts for something else, finishing off the glass with his other hand before his gaze drops back toward the empty glass. “The more I indulge, the easier it gets.” Which is namely his hope for this place, to give him a chance to slowly work his way into it. At present? It’s rougher given the fact that he hasn’t been.
“So once it opens, we’ll see how it goes, yeah?” He asks, finally letting his steel gaze rise to scan her face, gauging her reaction.
every choice, every lie, demons that he kept inside angel now that i've stopped spinning, could you come clean?
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.
"It's what friends are for," she tells him with a smirk. "You know, post-war, lost everyone we loved and everything we knew friends. Apocalypse buddies." Because if you can't inject a bit of dark humour into a shitshow, everything really is doomed, right? As he speaks again, though, she cracks a real laugh, nodding her approval.
"As a doctor I'm usually meant to advocate against indulging oneself too much," she remarks. "But given who your deity is, I think you might be on to something." Hell, if it makes him feel better, really, that's all that matters right now. Right?
Meeting his gaze, Isla smiles and nods to him. "Yeah. That sounds like a good idea," she agrees, before glancing to his empty glass and nodding at the bottle. "Do you want to take that up and I can introduce you to that fascinating murder mystery novel? With added romantic spice, obviously."
angel loves to keep me spinning, much too high to see that all these chains have started thinning & hell is breaking free
He huffs a laugh at her jesting. Apocalypse buddies certainly seemed a good way to put it, so he nods, agreeing entirely that there had to be some humor in the newly changed world they found themselves in. As for her doctorly knowledge? Well, he also agrees that a deity likely overrides it. And Frey wouldn’t have him do anything that would hurt him, anyway. So he nods to her, lips twisting into a small smirk again, before he shakes his horned head with a small chuckle.
He meets her gaze to calculate her reaction, however, and he sees the way her pebble blues drift toward the glass and she nods to the bottle. It’s something he can agree with, easily, and he takes the bottle by the neck and moves to stand, taking a small amount of time to bring himself up to his full height. “Lead the way.” He murmurs to her, full agreement as he steps around the bar toward her so they can head toward the stairs.
He does manage to hold his alcohol well enough that the stairs aren’t a problem, it’s the standing in place after that poses more of an issue of his balance with the way he sways slightly, still surprisingly in control enough to set the bottle down when they get into the loft and he starts to tug his shirt off, far more comfortable to sleep in.
every choice, every lie, demons that he kept inside angel now that i've stopped spinning, could you come clean?
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.
"If you fall on me, Sunjata, we are going to regret not hiring a second medic for this place," Isla says mildly, with a sly grin over her shoulder at him as they reach the loft and he starts dancing without moving. "Especially with how tall you are, and those horns to contend with." But there aren't any mishaps (so far, anyway), and she leaves him to pull off his shirt and hopefully not get stuck in it or trip over.
Unable to resist a peek through the curtains - paranoia beats anxiety like rock beats scissors, okay - it's only when Isla is convinced that they aren't under immediate Enenra threat that she relaxes enough to draw back to the bed. Slipping off her shoes and fluffing up the pillows to sink down, she nods approvingly at the mattress. "It's more for you than me, but the bed is comfortable," she tells him, plucking up the book and patting the blankets.
"So most of this apparently takes place in a library," she murmurs. "I remember that much. Makes me sad we didn't host any murder mystery dinners at the Atheneum."
