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!
hellos, goodbyes, a thousand midnights lost in sleepless lullabies
“Given the right circumstances, sure.” He teases her back as she buries her face in the pillows, stretching catlike in the corner of his eye as he lays out all the goodies they’d brought up. Once it’s organized in a way that makes sense, and he offers his little tidbit of information for Isla, he tilts his head back toward her, scanning her with the catlike smile and the curve of her horns, so much smoother and brighter than the rough and rugged spiraled ones of his own.
He hums a note of agreement, mimicking her as he shifts to lay on his side, facing her on his elbow as his wings droop, resting against the blankets of the rest of the bed behind him. “We’ll have some great business then.” He agrees before flashing her a playful and mischievous smirk. “Frey and I have decided to make it so that the rooms can be whatever you’d like them to be. Enchanting them based off of personal preference.” He explains, lifting his nonlightning scarred hand (his dominate one) to gesture in front of him. “So I have to ask a few people what kind of places they wished to be intimate in, visit them, and figure out anything that could be of note.” Safety wise or not.
And now that he’s explained it to Isla, he keeps that playful smirk. “You can help, too, if you want to.” He flashes her a wink, all the brooding caretaker from the floor below gone in the comfort of his room and office.
the flood
heaven's dreaming thoughtless thoughts, my friends, we know we'll be ghosts again
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.
"Stretch them out," Isla invites, waving a casual hand at Sunjata's wings. "They're always so tucked in, I'm surprised you don't get a cramp in them." So saying, she rolls onto her back for a moment to stretch as well, raising her eyebrows curiously as he divulges the details of his quest. "That would be a very good selling point," she agrees, relaxing and shifting to face him once more.
And the details of it don't seem all too difficult either, though at the mention of helping she can't stop from flashing him a grin. "Oh? You want to know the sort of places I want to be intimate in?" she asks. "Because I'll be honest, right now it's difficult not to want to try them all out. Though the hotsprings were a very nice introduction back into feeling."
passing by, you light up my darkest skies you take only seconds to draw me in
hellos, goodbyes, a thousand midnights lost in sleepless lullabies
“Hm?” Sunjata asks as he glances over at her, realizing what she’s asking for a moment later. In truth, he isn’t sure why he doesn’t get a cramp in them, but she is the doctor here and he takes her advice, stretching out the leathery wings. The one on the side he lays on drapes out and curls against the floor off the side of the bed, the other he has to stretch out and over them, like a blanket of sorts, but given how he lays opposite of hers, he stops it short on his pillow.
Her grin is met with that same playful smirk of his own, however, nodding his head in a casual sort of shrug. “Would help.” He repeats, raising a brow. But as she continues, he tries to figure out just what places she might pick, wherever her heart yearned her to explore, no longer tied to a room for such endeavors.
The hotspring, however, does spark a huff of a laugh. “The hotspring was nice.” He agrees, having enjoyed it immensely on his side, too. But there were a few other places that had been a bit more fun, leading him to leave the hotsprings probably fourth on his list. “Anywhere else? Or would you go there again?” He cocks his scarred eyebrow, wings shifting a bit as he tries to get them more comfortable rather than the ease of him tucking them back in (having to actually think about not pulling them back toward him.)
the flood
heaven's dreaming thoughtless thoughts, my friends, we know we'll be ghosts again
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.
Watching with unabashed curiosity as the leathery wings come stretching over them - ish - Isla keeps a lazy eye on them as they continue to chat. The fact that they have both labelled what happened in Frey's Breath as nice does bring a sly smile to her lips, and while it's certainly those memories that are playing on her mind, she does her best to expand her horizons.
"I mean, I'd never say no to going back there," she admits. "It's been strange to want to be close to heat and fire, given how dangerous they used to be." And with that in mind, she flashes a fanged grin towards Sunjata. "Maybe the beach," she says. "At midday, when the sun is at its highest." Who cares who sees, right?
passing by, you light up my darkest skies you take only seconds to draw me in
hellos, goodbyes, a thousand midnights lost in sleepless lullabies
He does imagine it takes a bit of getting used to — constantly arranging herself in a room the furthest from a fireplace, avoiding the Climb on the off chance it might cause her to combust, avoiding anything with the slight possibility of heat or combustion — only to find comfort in it, to crave it. He’s not one to judge, perhaps understanding better than anyone the shift in it.
So when she says her next thought is a beach, Sunjata snorts, a quiet laugh leaving him (not in judgement), his wings shaking and moving slightly as he waits until he can catch his own breath. “Ironically, it’s in my top three.” He offers to her with a roguish grin. “Though it was in a cave inlet off of the Ahi Coast.” It had been with Maea at the time, a thought he tends not to think on too long.
“Bring a blanket, though. Getting sand there sucks.” He huffs another amused sigh, shaking his head as he rolls half onto his back as the wing drags along the pillows, as he reaches into the box to pull out a piece of jerky.
the flood
heaven's dreaming thoughtless thoughts, my friends, we know we'll be ghosts again
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.
Isla does raise her eyebrows at him at first, assuming judgement, only to hear precisely the opposite sentiment tumble from his lips. "Your top three?" she repeats, her smile more than a touch audible in her voice as she raises her eyebrows at Sunjata. "Gods, to be able to have made a top three. Give it time," she says, sighing wistfully and getting her elbows beneath her, watching with an almost predatory eye as he reaches over to snag some jerky.
"A cave, though? Isn't that a little cold? And hard - not the good kind? Frowning a bit, Isla shifts to carelessly half-climb over Sunjata so she can snag another peach, having to reach over and around one of his wings to get there. "Mm, that's a good point. I didn't consider the sand," she concedes with a wrinkle of her nose.
"Oh, but what about in a storm? I imagine that would be quite dramatic." And as long as Frey's upgrade doesn't actually flood the brothel, it's all good.
passing by, you light up my darkest skies you take only seconds to draw me in
hellos, goodbyes, a thousand midnights lost in sleepless lullabies
“Got plenty of time.” He agrees with that playful smirk, that teasing tone to his voice. One that shifts and hitches slightly as she reaches over and around him, hands bumping by those velveteen leathery wings, Sunjata’s effectively pinned again, peering at her with the raise of a brow as a flush starts to flourish on his neck beneath his tattoos and scars.
“There was a lot of sand in there. It was at the entrance.” He finally manages to say, flashing a crooked smirk, finding it in him to push back at her, shifting ever so slightly to let his wing and himself get into her space, hovering just a touch. “The rumble of thunder and lightning to accommodate?” He asks playfully, withdrawing to take a bite of the jerky.
the flood
heaven's dreaming thoughtless thoughts, my friends, we know we'll be ghosts again
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.
"Mm, I do," Isla agrees of the time - and while that time is no longer infinite in the way it had been as an Ascended, she's absolutely going to be making the most of every day. Hence, you know, the midnight snacks, the reckless indulgences, the touching. Speaking of which, it's with a peach in hand and one leg still thrown across Sunjata to sit half-astride him that she notices the pink flush beneath the deep ink of his tattoos, Isla bouncing her eyebrows at him playfully.
"Well obviously," she says of the thunder and lightning, because who doesn't want a soundtrack to accompany a good fuck? "Though there's a lot to be said about a good, old fashioned bed," she hazards. "A lot less sand, you know?"
passing by, you light up my darkest skies you take only seconds to draw me in
hellos, goodbyes, a thousand midnights lost in sleepless lullabies
She remains half astride him and he debates between indulging a little more, peering up at her with that hidden surprise and the flush he tries desperately to keep hidden away and fails to do so. So he decides instead to hum a deep purr of a laugh, wings rustling as his hand lifts to run along her thigh, along the bruises he’d put there and has no right to be as proud of the claim as he is.
“So much less sand.” He agrees with a small smirk, eyes lifting to her face as his thumb presses over the thumb print he’d left, as a perfect fit. “Softer blankets. Pillows.” Some semblance of back support, which he doesn’t voice because as he thinks it, it certainly seems the least sexy thing he could say. So he doesn’t. And instead angles his face to peer at her with the peach, wondering if she’d let it drip down her chin as she had before, only to fall onto him.
the flood
heaven's dreaming thoughtless thoughts, my friends, we know we'll be ghosts again
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.
It's very badly hidden, it's true, and by the time Sunjata's hand comes to glide along her bare thigh, Isla doubts he cares either. "Blankets, pillows, less sand, and a modicum of privacy, if that's what you're into," she agrees, flashing him a fanged smile and shifting into the perfect fit of his hand, still loosely holding the peach to her lips even if she's long forgotten what she was going to do with it.
"I wonder if Frey will take that into account," she wonders distractedly, her free hand reaching out to carefully trace along the slope of his shoulder, just dancing shy of where his wing stretches out across the bed. "What if I just want to feel furs on my bare skin, or to have the taste of strawberries, or whatever? Or is that too small scale?"
passing by, you light up my darkest skies you take only seconds to draw me in
hellos, goodbyes, a thousand midnights lost in sleepless lullabies
It might be what he’s into. At this very moment, at least. Though it isn’t like the Flood has shied away from more visible affairs. Right now, though, settling as her leg shifts to fit his hand perfectly has a hungry spark flaring in the steel of his eyes, a predatory focus intent on her face. “I’m supposed to visit these places and determine any safety issues. Not sure how I’m supposed to visit that specifically.” He admits with a huff of a laugh.
Her touch along his shoulders have his head angling slightly, tilting away as if to give her more space to explore along the scars and ink embedded in his skin. “What kind of furs?” He asks with a small crooked smirk, keeping his wing right where it is, but his hand continues to move along the perfect fit of her leg, a gentle stroking motion to mimic the one that runs along his shoulder.
the flood
heaven's dreaming thoughtless thoughts, my friends, we know we'll be ghosts again
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.
"Safety issues," Isla repeats with a shit-eating grin, letting the peach slip carelessly from her fingers now to thump and roll off the edge of the bed. "I can't think of many right here, granted. I suppose you'll just have to take my first answer and visit Torchline. There's the sand, the risk of the tide coming in, sunstroke..." She sighs a touch dramatically, as if there's no place more dangerous to get up to some horizontal antics.
Granted, one might say that the two of them are a safety issue all on their own right now, given the trajectory of their current position. "Ursur fur," she purrs, her hips tilting a fraction to feel the warm sweep of Sunjata's fingers along her upper thigh, even as she traces silver teeth marks and black strikes of ink over his throat. "With pillows stuffed with ningo feathers." All the better to make a mess when they're torn.
passing by, you light up my darkest skies you take only seconds to draw me in
hellos, goodbyes, a thousand midnights lost in sleepless lullabies
The peach is forgotten and while Sunjata might have otherwise casually watched it fall and roll off the bed, his eyes are glued to her as she speaks, that playful twist of his lips sticking on his face as his skin flushed darker much to his own dismay. “Sand bugs.” He pauses to think, about to say more, when her hips swirl against his thigh and he has to swallow hard under the hand tracing his throat.
“Mm, well, i'm afraid I can’t help with that.” No Ursur sat beneath his skins, no ningo feathered pillows they rest upon. But he does have a feathered shift, one with sleeker fur than the Ursur. “But I do have this.” He drawls, his leathery wings melting away, replaced by the tri toned feathers of his Pegasus shift. Alongside those now light and soft wings, the touch of pale fur along his neck smooths out, tracing the contours of his body.
the flood
heaven's dreaming thoughtless thoughts, my friends, we know we'll be ghosts again
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.
"Sand bugs," Isla says, very nearly jolted out of the moment by the idea of them, because she hasn't taken that into account. Luckily for Sunjata, they're not on the beach right now, and as he exchanges one set of wings for another, she shifts to sit properly astride him, pebble blues widening a fraction as she reaches out instinctively to trail a hand along warm feathers.
"You know," she murmurs distractedly, "you'd give off a very different vibe if you walked around the House with these out." A crooked smile curls at one side of her mouth, her fingers stretching out in a starburst against his wing, as if she can encourage it to fan out as far as possible. "I like it."
passing by, you light up my darkest skies you take only seconds to draw me in
