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
A soft snort slips from Sunjata at the idea of a meeting, a crooked smirk twisting up the corner of his scarred face tat presses against her bare skin. “Even if I did, I’m sure they’d have gotten the hint that I was busy.” But there weren’t any meetings, everything could wait until he found a way to pull himself together again.
Doesn’t seem like it’ll happen anytime soon as she answers his question from before, exhaling a sigh in lieu of a nod. “I’ve never had a moment where I was free enough to keep them down.” He admits, a touch warily, as if the mere thought was anxiety inducing enough that he couldn’t fathom what it would be like. “For one thing or another I have had to hide a part of me.” Since he was a child. And old habits died hard.
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.
"And if your hints weren't enough, I'm sure I could have persuaded them that you were busy," Isla agrees with a fanged smile, absently letting her fingers tease through the back of his short crop of hair. Gods help anyone who had considered that Sunjata might need to be doing more important things than Isla, put it that way.
As the conversation slants towards something a little more serious, she is all but prepared for the metaphorical shutters to come clanking down around Sunjata, her touch trickling down the back of his neck and between his wings now. "It isn't necessarily a bad thing," she murmurs. "It just might explain why you think people are trying to stay out of your way."
With a soft smile, she drops a kiss against his hair. "I wasn't done, either," she remarks. "You might be guarded, but you're also very humble, and I happen to think you've got a bit of a gentle soul in there."
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
Part of him would like to see her bite into someone that did try to interrupt them, but instead of voicing that fact the Flood simply laughs it off, content to relish in the soft touch of her hands along his back, along his dark hair flecked with silver. It isn’t until her fingers drift to reach the smaller plumes between his shoulders that he finds it in him to respond, working diligently (and perhaps because she’d managed to open him up so easily) to keep the shutters of his mind from closing her out.
He lifts his head, propping his chin just below her collarbone to peer up at her with warm steel, perhaps for one of the first times. “I was what my father called a soft child. It’s why he hated me so much. It’s why I keep it buried.” He pauses, considering his next words. “Nothing good ever came from letting it out, so I stopped.” Even now, here in Caido. But as far as being humble? He was. He never felt as strong or as powerful as he is. And it often came with the reminders from others at how far he’s come, when he feels little more important than he had when he’d first arrived.
A nobody. Despite bearing a moniker the entire world knew.
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 might have felt as if she were taking advantage of their current situation if any of it were intentional, the Remedy smiling to herself at the velvet softness of the feathers that sprout from his shoulder blades, glancing down as she feels Sunjata shift to peer up at her. "A soft child," she repeats with a furrowed brow, reaching out with her free hand to let her thumb graze across his cheek.
"Your father sounds like a real charmer," she mutters. "I remember you talking about him some. Didn't he make it here to Caido?" Gods, it all feels like a lifetime ago, the Remedy leaning in suddenly to steal a kiss from Sunjata's lips. "Just because you've stopped doesn't mean it isn't still there," she points out.
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
A low hum of reluctant sarcastic agreement leaves Sunjata as she mentions that his father was a real charmer. He works his jaw for a moment, just long enough to stop when she leans in to steal a kiss, one he contently obliges her. “He did.” He pauses, scanning her face. “Broke my wing. Couldn’t tell if he was a hallucination or real until he kidnapped Nate. Had a showdown to get Nate back when I challenged him to a Trial. He gave me this.” His head tilts to show her the half Glasgow smile on his face.
But his chin drops back to her chest, eyes still focused on her. “Back home, though, he was worse. I… endured a lot to try and keep my sister safe.” And it still hadn’t worked. She’d still been carted off like a brood mare to Melita’s father. A thought that has his gaze flickering with a shadow briefly before he blinks it away. “He killed my mother in front of me when I didn’t give up the resistance back home.” He says bluntly. Even if it had been between a television screen. “Captured Lusea and I and killed her in front of me. Then spun the idea I was a double agent of a sort, to get the resistance to stop supporting me.” It wasn’t a pity party, so much, like it might have otherwise been.
In fact the tone that leaves the Flood is nothing short of matter of fact, numb. These things happened and there’s no changing that.
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 falls quiet to listen, though her fingertips unconsciously walk their way to where she knows there's a scar lurking beneath the feathered wing, the Remedy seeming quietly thoughtful as she hears Sunjata out. "I remember when you came to see me, about not being able to sleep," she murmurs, glancing down in time to see yet another scar catch the firelight.
She shouldn't be surprised that it's only the tip of the iceberg, and yet as he continues, painting the story with words whereas before it had been snatches of imagery accompanied by scribbles and sketches, the soft sound that rumbles in her throat and chest is remarkably similar to a growl. "I'm sorry you had to go through that," Isla mumbles, the hand against his cheek dropping to curve of his jaw.
"I know nothing will change it, but for what it's worth, it doesn't feel as though you've let it break you. I should have added strong to your description."
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
That was exactly why he had sought her out about his inability to sleep. Because his father had haunted every waking moment and fitful nights. There wasn’t an escape. And it caused him to be so on edge he didn’t know what was real or not.
Nate had been real, had gotten him through it. And what was the cost? Sunjata swallows hard, letting her hands run along him as he remains a warm weighted blanket along her body, blinking easily as if the words hadn’t quite settled where they should have.
Walls, after all. But when she mentions that it hasn’t broken him, he shakes his head unhelpfully. “It has. But I always had someone to take me out of it.” He admits, wings flaring before settling draped across them again. “I have had many nights like when I found you on the Last Step.” He doesn’t look at her when he says it, his cheek finding her chest again as he hides himself away from the judgements he knows won’t be coming, but in case they do anyway.
“I nearly succeeded once.” When he had pressed so hard against the knife at his throat, hoping it would do the job when Lusea had perished the first time, only for his fathers and doctors and surgeons to bring him back — to be his puppet.
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.
His wings flare and at first Isla thinks she's pushed too far or they've strayed too deep into Sunjata's mind, expecting the Flood to be gone from around her. But he settles again, even if he won't look at her, and the Remedy lets out a long sigh from a breath she hasn't realised she's been holding. "Well for both of our sakes, I've never been more glad that you failed," she tells him simply, her voice a soft, low thrum in her throat.
And this time it's her turn to shift and move, though it's only enough to try and persuade the Flood to look up at her again. If she's successful, she'll plant a careful, chaste kiss against his lips before continuing. "I never want to have another night like when you found me on the Last Step," she whispers. "And I never want to have to return the favour. But I'll be there, if you need me."
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’s like déjà vu, the way that she repeats the words that he’s heard others say. And perhaps if he was smarter, he’d have relished in the fact that there are people out there that care. However few and far between they are. But he remains silent, unsure what to respond with – because he wasn’t exactly pleased afterwards, the whole walking around as a shell of a person, a ghost with the only purpose being what his deity wished him to do next.
But she continues on, convincing him enough to let his gaze drift back toward her, for her to plant another kiss along his scarred lips. “I shouldn’t have another one of those nights.” He replies, that same matter-of-fact tone. “Nate’s gone.” And the only thing that had kept him from launching himself into oblivion as he wanted to do, were the twins they had adopted, safely nestled with the family they had adored during the safe haven. Who was he to bring them back to a broken man with an unstable ability to care for them?
“I don’t have a companion anymore to cleave my soul in two.” Another been there, done that. “But I appreciate it, Isla. I’m here for you too.” He says, adjusting just so that the arms around her tighten in a soft squeeze, his gaze remaining on hers as if he debates something with himself.
A few heartbeats later and he pushes forward, catching her lips with his in a surprisingly greedy display given the indifference he’d been speaking with. An unspoken thank you.
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.
"But you're not," she murmurs, as if sometimes Sunjata needed reminding of that fact. Of the reality that he's still alive, his heart still beating, and that he's allowed to feel things other than guilt and regret, even if it's only for as long as a few minutes at a time. "I'm glad I can count on you," she continues, managing the start of a smile, only to find him suddenly surging forward.
Their lips meet again and Isla melts against Sunjata, her arms looping around his neck as she sinks into the bed and lets the weight of him press against her. It would be a lie to say that his kiss didn't kindle something low in her belly, but given the current state of them, it's something that can certainly wait.
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 isn’t gone. And it’s something that certainly needs reminding when he’s exhausted and frustrated and feels like a ghost walking the halls. It’s why he’d asked Frey to help with this, to give him something to focus on rather than the emptiness holed up inside him. Even as Isla tells him that she’s glad she can count on him, does Sunjata find the pure honesty in it, the edge of her smile when he dives in to kiss her, her arms wrapping around his neck again as he flattens against her.
The movement, of course, with how they hadn’t parted since their roll in the sheets, sparks the flush on his skin again. But Sunjata doesn’t stop the kiss in the realization of it, instead, keeping up with it if only to let it convey the things he couldn’t say. The things he wouldn’t say. He simply presses more against her, wings still draped, still wrapped around her with his arms shifting to loop under her own to rest flattened against her shoulder blades. Only then does he pull away, a soft little nip to her bottom lip, chest slightly heaving from the need for breath. “You can always count on me.” He decides to say instead, skirting around anything else, the steel of his gaze shifting away from the confliction into a sharper edge once more.
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.
A soft hum leaves her lips as he shifts and moves, Isla having to school herself not to hook her legs back around his waist, because listen, there are a lot of ways to solve problems and sex is just one of them, okay? But this feels more than in ways she can't put words to, the Remedy left breathless when Sunjata finally parts from her, her lips flushed pink from the attention of his teeth.
"Good," she mumbles, swallowing around anything else she might want to say and instead leaning in to press a kiss against the corner of his mouth. "We should probably shower before bed, right? And you owe me a peach - one of them fell on the floor." Nothing else to see here, folks.
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
Its more and it isn’t more, it’s a strange combination between the two of everything that’s gone on – letting her into the dark shadows of his mind, even surface level, enough that he didn’t want to completely damper the mood. Luckily, he doesn’t, and as they part Sunjata scans her face, wondering if she’d picked up what he’d let slip through – and much to his appreciation, nothing is said.
“Oh no, whatever will we do?” He drawls, flashing her an amused smile before he finds it in him to pick himself up, pulling away from her as his wings snap in tight again, bringing those walls up as he usually did, before picking up the peach that had fallen off the side of the bed. And once that’s done, a hand is offered to her to help her up as well, before they finish off the night with cleaning up and a replenishing of the singular peach that had fallen.
- Fin <33
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.
