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 a shrine he’s come to often, one that allows for him to get higher in the trees, to become one with his attuned nature as he arrives in the form of the flying fox. Perching on the branch is easy enough for the Flood, easier still as he shifts back into himself, straddling the branch as he fumbles around in his pockets, still not quite prepared to come face to face with his deity looking like his deceased husband.
So with the blindfold of before, he carefully unfolds it to ensure it doesn’t fly off in the breeze whistling through the trees, tying it on over his eyes before he levels his blindfolded attention onto the shrine. “Frey, the brothel has been finished.” He starts, pausing as if debating whether to go on. “We’re calling it the House of Midnight. It's off the main road that leads through the Barrows toward the Refuge but far enough out of reach that it isn’t within its boundaries.” Another pause, a half smirk that tries to form on his scarred lips. “Thought it would be more fun that way.” A tattooed shoulder rises and falls in a small half shrug, paired with a slight huff of a laugh.
the flood
How you bleed when you bleed nothing?
totally sniped from odd ilu
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.
The branch that Sunjata sits upon stretches and widens that the Flood should have no fear of falling. He has enough flighted shifts within his soul to catch himself of course, but why work harder than you need to, mmm?
With no one to see them, quite what Frey looks like just now is a mystery, and as their fingertips and the surrounding flora reach out to brush against Sunjata, not even these soft caresses will give away what their form might be.
'The House of Midnight...' They muse thoughtfully. 'Wise to keep it out of the Refuge.' Frey had been considering what sorts of amendments they would have to make to the Haven in order for proper pleasure to be reached within the brothel, but apparently, their demigod had already thought that far ahead. 'Indeed it will...' They purr warmly with an invisible nod.
"Once upon a time there was a certain room in the Grounds, as I'm sure you well remember. There are only one or two ascended left in the world now, so I will leave this choice up to you: would you see your brothel have the same ability to reproduce certain sensations for the ascended will inside? Or would you like something more...broad?"
He can’t make out the form of them, and that’s perhaps far better than what he was anticipating. It’s a balm that he leans into easily, like a flower just offered the first touch of rain after a drought. Though, Frey has always been like that for him — an uncomplicated comfort despite everything that’s happened to him.
It helps that he doesn’t fear them as he had Safrin, careful to pick his words. In this, he can speak freely and receive the praise for it, one that he metaphorically and literally preens at with the feathers that sprout along his neck, rising gently.
A huff of a laugh leaves him as his deity speaks, a knowing nod of his head offered. “I utilized it well.” He comments offhandedly, quieting to listen to the rest of the question. He thinks of Isla and recalls her wanting to change to the Ancient, and finds that it matters little with the Ascended this time around as it otherwise might have. That, and it separates it out more than a place he might try and combine as a space with his late husband. “Hmm, more broad perhaps?” Benefit all while within and all of that.
And besides, it isn’t like it’d be a surprise. It’s a brothel, after all. “What did you have in mind?” He asks, angling his blindfolded head up to where he can hear their voice, doing his best to pinpoint to give his full undivided attention.
the flood
How you bleed when you bleed nothing?
totally sniped from odd ilu
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.
"More broad it is." Frey agrees readily and without judgment. Whatever they know of Sunjata and Isla, whatever the complicated healing process the Flood is having to navigate through, the deity is content to let their chosen pick his own way through life.
Reaching out, Frey tucks feathers and hair behind Sunjata's ear, shifting the blindfold oh so slightly that none of it covers his ear. "Well...In Torchline Phoebe made it so that the bedding was always clean..so that any..damage to the rooms was always immediately taken care of. Everything always smelled sweet and remained quite hygienic." This is not new information to Sunjata of course, and so Frey carries on with a mere shrug. "I wonder if your focus is quite the same as hers, though...perhaps for your brothel you might...want the rooms to always provide whatever is called for at the moment. A standard suite might be a dungeon for one customer or a rushing waterfall for the next...?" They pause thoughtfully. "Or perhaps you might grant certain rooms a sort of amnesia? A facelessness to hide shame."
Again, they shrug. The possibilities were nearly endless, it was simply for Sunjata to choose what he thought might best suit his vision.
They agree quickly and easily, and his head tilts into the hand that tucks the feathers and hair behind his ear, relaxing further as he hears them clearly, the blindfold remaining in place and Frey’s features obscured enough that he can’t tell what form they take.
He hums an agreement to what they explain of Phoebe’s choices for her own brothel, but he listens as other options are laid out, letting them mull around in his mind a few moments longer as he debates between the two. “Hm, I think having it always provide for whatever is called for would be more beneficial.” He murmurs softly, reaching up to rest a hand on whatever part of Frey he can touch. “Then we wouldn’t have to drastically shift the rooms each time.” And honestly, there’s a multitude of ways they can go about hiding shame if necessary.
So he settles with it, offering a soft smile along his face that tugs at the scar along his cheek.
the flood
How you bleed when you bleed nothing?
totally sniped from odd ilu
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.
'Agreed.' Frey purrs, and though it's their shoulder that Sunjata's hand has come to rest upon, the Flood will find it both feathered and thickly furred as if to fully disguise the body beneath.
"In your own time. Until then..I suppose you'll just have to be creative with your guests." Frey adds. Unlike the other heralds who were fond of their deadlines, Sunjata had already met the only one which had ever really mattered: the completion of the Haven. As far as they were concerned, whatever else the Flood chose to do, it was all just a silver lining.
To upgrade his brothel (it will receive a board and passive room magic), Sunjata must:
1. Speak to 3 people and ask what sorts of environments they'd like to be intimate in
2. Visit at least 2 of those types of environments and note any safety considerations.
Feathered and furred and Sunjata imagines for a second he’s stuck his hand in some unique boa that Frey may be wearing. Though he knows that to not entirely be the case, it’s still a surprise enough that his fingers can’t help but to run through the softness of it, curious beyond any means as he listens to the instructions.
“Of course.” He murmurs softly, offering a smile up toward his deity, even if his blindfolded eyes can’t pick them out. He still tries to give them his full attention, pleased that he’s been given an option to fulfill this. And he certainly intends to, given that it’s the only thing he has right now to throw his focus and attention into. So he clings to it.
He clears his throat a second later, draws his hand back into his own space before he speaks. “Is there anything else I can do for you?” He asks curiously.
the flood
How you bleed when you bleed nothing?
totally sniped from odd ilu
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.
For a moment Frey says nothing, and then all at once they are everywhere. They surround Sunjata not just like a rainstorm; they become one. They shroud him in a mist that touches him everywhere, cleansing and freeing, crisp but not uncomfortable. They smell of earth and water, of petrichor and morning mist. A spray of laughter coats the Flood’s skin, as lips of rainfall press against his chin, his cheeks, his throat.
“Only this…” The thunder of Frey’s presence rumbles. “Allow yourself to heal. There are ways of carrying him with you that do not bruise or fracture. Find them.” Softly said despite the velvet purr of their presence, Frey lingers as long as Sunjata does, remaining as a cloud.
