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!
Torchline was a big place, but the Doubletake was notoriously easy to find on most days. Unless she was using her invisibility ring to suntan naked, there were usually signs one could use to track her down.
Today Flora was sitting on the outside patio of the Hangedman. In a backless dress - white and incredibly impractical - she had her sandaled feet up on one of the chairs, with a knee raised to support the book she was reading. Aqua eyes veiled behind overly large sunglasses, one of Flora's many-ringed fingers trickled up and down the stem of a glass holding something the colour of lilacs just newly in bloom.
Anytime someone came to speak with her, she would shoo them away (unless they were refilling her drink); today was a day for relaxation, and as much as the Doubletake was always up to hear a compliment or five, her book had just gotten good.
oblivion is the name of this abode: and she is there
Unplanned as it had been, Anju has not hated sticking around longer in Torchline to hunt down her ring. Finding Flora has been trickier by virtue of the young woman’s flighty habits and strange schedule instead of anonymity; frankly everyone seems to know her, but like a distracted butterfly she flits about.
Enough people have mentioned the Hanged Man in relation to Flora that Anju has taken up post at the beach nearby to check in regularly. It’s not worth the drunkenness to occupy a space at the bar without the bartender getting pissy at her loitering with an empty glass. So it is that she spots golden hair shining like gilded wheat on the patio behind the establishment, and Anju does not withhold the tiny smirk that inches onto her face at the sight. Riya is sent away with a thought so as not to spook her prey, and the Dragoon approaches from directly behind the woman’s seat.
She has had to dress more like the locals given her prolonged stay, which has led to a more feminine look than she is accustomed to; a white tied shirt that leaves her muscled stomach free, cut shorts that fray and fringe at the ends, and flat functional sandals. Her hair is tied on top of her head in a loose knot, allowing her to lean down from behind, hands bracing on the armchairs and ducking close without her long hair betraying her early by tickling at Flora’s skin. Instead her breath does, right below the girl’s ear. “Found you little magpie,” she murmurs.
It takes barely a second for Flora to register the voice sweetly singing into her ear, but once she does, her eyes immediately grow hazy and her smile grows wide. Releasing the stem of her cocktail, the Doubletake moves to trickle it up Anju's arm or shoulder - or indeed, any part of the other woman that is within reach - as she lets her head fall flirtatiously back.
"Oh hey." She coos softly, and where once Flora had to think and re-think her actions that she might portray the precise sort of flirty confidence she so badly wanted to embody, now it seemed to come to her with ease. "I was wondering when you'd drop by." Flora adds, letting her book fall shut and not caring at all to mark the page.
Suddenly tales of heroic deeds and dragon fights seemed very dull.
oblivion is the name of this abode: and she is there
Her fingers are like little lightning strikes across Anju's skin, which so often feels the hard hit of fists and blades instead of this playful, barely-there dance. Anju's own shadow as she leans over Flora makes the young woman's face easy to see when she reclines - enough so that the Dragoon shamelessly takes in the tiny details that do not remain obscured by large sunglasses.
Not the type of woman to beat around the bush, Anju's free arm slides off the arm of the chair and onto Flora's thigh. "You took quite the risk in stealing my ring instead of a more valuable object. Do you think I am enticed to return your lovely feathers for that old thing?" Mahogany irises become partially concealed as her eyes lid themselves. "Or, given your flirtations, were you hoping for a different exchange?" She may be forthright, but Anju has some eloquence when it is necessary.
Smiling widely, her book all but forgotten now and nearly at risk of sliding though her fingers given the sudden press of Anju's hand against her thigh, Flora can only shrug. "I didn't think it was what I took, so much as that I took it." She purrs softly. "You didn't strike me as the sort of woman who'd let that go." Though the Doubletake had made great efforts to follow in her mother's footsteps, she was still young and naive in many ways. Confident enough to know she could get her feather's back from Anju with one simple call to Daddy #1 or #2, after the recent debacle in Torchline (what are timelines anyway), Flora realized that perhaps it was time to start doing things on her own.
Resisting the urge to simply let her knees slide open that she might not so subtly encourage the older woman's hand to reposition itself, instead Flora peels her sunglasses from her eyes and nudges the chair next to her with her foot. "Can I buy you a drink?"
oblivion is the name of this abode: and she is there
Anju cannot help but snort softly, impressed. "Astute. You are correct. Thieves are more fun to punish personally." The slight smirk softens her sharp gaze into something flirtatious instead of intimidating, happy to linger in Flora's space and inhale her - surely expensive - perfume.
Rising slowly like a slumbering leviathan, Anju removes her hand from Flora's thigh as she goes though not without using her fingertips to ruck up the fabric there. It is easy to pull the offered chair with her foot and sink into it in one motion, intentionally pulling it closer to Flora so she can settle her ankle on the opposite knee in a relaxed but clearly self-confident pose. "I would like that. I prefer high quality scotch." Fitting for the sharp-edged Dragoon, not that she cares about pigeonholing herself.
Flora's breath hitches in slightly, even as Anju's hand wanders the path she'd intended it to. Grinning, her lips parting to allow for a shaky inhale as much as from anticipation, Flora rolls her shoulders back slightly as the older woman takes a seat next to her. Tilting her head to the side slightly and having only to cast a quick glance toward the bar, a fluttery little man with his shirt unbuttoned to the navel appears. With a hesitant smile and shaky fingers, he takes their drink order before disappearing.
"So," Leaning forward, her chin propped up with one hand as she leans across the other, Flora lets her gaze wander over the hard yet enticing contours of Anju's face for a long moment. "You're a dragoon, right?" Already knowing the answer, the girl pressed on. "What's that like? Being a woman in such a...mans world?"
oblivion is the name of this abode: and she is there
Flora's disheveled, shaken confidence is far more appealing to Anju than the mousy man who appears for their order, and her eyes never so much as blink away from Flora as she provides it. Content to be examined in the rather catlike, covetous way Flora employs from across the table.
Snorting slightly, Anju extends her forearm onto the table to let her fingertips touch plainly at Flora's elbow to establish connection. "Frustrating at first, surely. Men can be pigs, and frustratingly thick-skulled with their prejudices." A slow grin starts on her sharp face. "But put them down in the dirt enough times, and they learn to either respect you or continue to face the consequences." Given her rather impressive musculature for a woman, Anju clearly has plenty of experience doing exactly that. "I am a straightforward woman with clear expectations. I do not tolerate anything less than the respect I am owed." Shrugging lazily, she lifts her gaze away to accept her drink from the same mousy man and dismisses him with an arched brow before she takes a long sip. "And you? Amidst all these smugglers and pirates, where does someone like you fit in?"
Doing her best not to seem undone by the gentle touch of the other woman's fingers, Flora swallows and tries to keep her eye contact soft and not distracted by the goosebumps rippling up her arm. "Mmmmm." Unlike Anju, Flora was not gifted with the musculature that would allow her to follow in the soldier's footsteps, but she did have other assets...though hers were of the sort that didn't necessarily demand respect, but distracted instead.
'For a long time it was just because of who I was that people..." Pausing, Flora bites at her lower lip as her eyes narrow, searching for the right word. Unable to come up with it in a timely matter, she simply shakes her head. "..well, they didn't quite respect me, but they went along ?" It's the best way she could describe it. "Recently I learned, the hard way actually, that maybe relying on my name wasn't going to get me where I wanted to be, so..." Pulling in a breath, Flora straightens slightly, though not enough to pull away from Anju's fingers. "I have my feathers, for when things get really out of hand, but...I would like to learn to be more subtle as well."
So saying the girl shifts, reaching for Anju's hand with both of hers. Sliding her fingers between the soldier's and flexing them backward slightly to reveal her palm, Flora's own fingers work deftly to tease away any tension in the other woman's palm.
oblivion is the name of this abode: and she is there
It's a shift in tone she hadn't expected of the young woman, sincerity that Anju had assumed would be in short supply. Perhaps she had pegged Flora unfairly in a box too small for her but that doesn't mean she cannot adapt. She is far from disappointed.
Her touch shifts to run her thumb up the vein she can see inside Flora's elbow, meant to be comforting as opposed to the teasing enticement of her fingertips. "Connections are a powerful tool," she hums, complimentary, "but strings can only be pulled so quickly when your back is to the wall. That is where your own strength must shine." Ignoring the fact that Anju has used this reasoning on her soldiers (she is not the most creative or eloquent) hopefully it will resonate regardless.
A small, startled sound hums in the Dragoon's throat as Flora takes her hand within both of her own and begins to massage it. Gods, it feels good. And it helps that she is scarcely ever touched outside of one night stands and sparring, sparks dancing up her veins and darkening her eyes. "What sort of subtlety do you desire?" Her voice has gone a bit husky, but never let it be said that Anju is incapable of fighting down her libido to entertain the spirit of a formidable young woman. "Stealth? Magic, weaponry? Tutoring in combat?"
That the older woman doesn't completely disregard her connections soothes something in the Doubletake she hadn't realized had its hackles raised. Her connections were important, and just because she hadn't earned them but had been born into them wasn't something she should hide from. Though, perhaps she had been taking a little too much credit for their existence. "Right." Flora agrees with a small and solemn nod.
"Stealth, I think." The Doubletake answers after a moment's pause. Her aqua stare is fixed on the dragoon's palm, her fingers deftly tracing over the older woman's muscles as if she might smooth away the lines on her skin as well as the tension in her hand. "But not necessarily the sneaking-around sort of stealth. You've seen my ring, and my mirror lets me create an illusion of myself...I'm working to upgrade it right now, but I suppose..." Pausing, the girl furrows her brow for a moment before slowly raising her eyes.
"I know I'm not what people think of me. I know they think I'm just a kid who will cry for her parents when things go sideways. And...I guess I'm okay with that if I can use it against them." Which of course meant there in fact needed to be more to Flora than what the eye saw. "Do you know what I mean?"
oblivion is the name of this abode: and she is there
While Flora may be staring at her palm, Anju cannot take her eyes off the Doubletake's pensive expression. Stealth that does not rely on sneaking around seems a little backwards at first - at least until the young woman explains further. "Deception, perhaps?" Illusions and the like that could get her out of sticky situations or allow her close to sink her feathers into someone's side.
In fact, Anju does understand. Her parents are well-established and wealthy in Torchline, and the nepo baby leaving the family business to become a soldier had earned her a difficult path when she had first signed up. "I do," she murmurs, and briefly lets her thumb rise to brush against Flora's hand as it continues to massage at the calloused skin there. "Underestimating you is the greatest insult they can give you," because Anju will not pretend it won't continue to be a burden on her mentally to be looked down on, "but so long as you believe in yourself, their disregard is advantageous." Anju does not know her nearly well enough to say if she is indeed the type to run to her parents, but it's clear to the Dragoon that she does not want to be. That's enough for her. "Do you have someone here you can train with?"
"That's a better way of putting it." Flora hums with warm agreement, quite liking the ring deception over just stealth. It felt well-rounded in her mind, whereas stealth seemed like the business of street urchins and those merely inclined to be shady. Not that the Doubletake had a problem with either persuit, more so that she simply wanted more for herself in that regard.
Blinking as Anju's thumb moves to brush her fingers, Flora pauses in her ministrations to glance up at the older woman. 'You do?' Given Anju's indomitable presence, the Doubletake wouldn't have thought anyone would ever make the mistake of underestimating her, unless of course purely on the basis of her sex.
Biting at the inside of her cheek, this flirtatious meaning having taken quite the turn, Flora opts to continue down its twisty pathway rather than forcing them back toward the straight and narrow. "During the war..instead of staying in the Haven where it would be safe, my twin and I decided to fight for Torchline. He only went because I did, and he..." Swallowing, her fingertips shaking slightly against Anju's palm even as her gaze remained steady, Flora tries for a smile. "He died. Sort of hard to believe in yourself when you get someone that close to you killed because of your choices." She says in a low voice.
As for having someone to train with? Exhaling in such a way that it causes her bangs to bounce across her forehead, Flora shrugs. "My other brother lives here, Mateo, but he isn't much of a fighter. I know a few of the dragoons, but.." Thinking of Koa, she crinkles her nose and shakes her head.
oblivion is the name of this abode: and she is there
Her surprise is not unwarranted, though it makes Anju's normally stoic facade crack with a smile. "I do. My father is an inventor and my mother is a politician. I grew up quite wealthy and well-protected. My home was custom made on their money and gifted to me the day I graduated, so I never needed to stay in the barracks even when I enlisted." Though the massaging was fantastic, simply having her hand held is surprisingly nice. "And though it is easy to forget, though I was naturally tall, muscle is a product of discipline. I was greatly looked down on by my peers - frequently subjected to snide comments that I could not be reprimanded as a soldier because of my parents' protection." Certainly some of her superiors had been guilty of that, but not all of them. As if Anju would have run to her parents anyway - that was where everyone had been truly wrong. She was (and still is) far too independent and prideful for that.
Such confessions are not what she had expected of this encounter, but as a rather faithful woman she believes it is perhaps fate because Anju has heard these words hundreds of time in her life as a soldier. "The war turned all of us into unwitting soldiers. Your sentiment is not uncommon in our profession, and should never have been shared by civilians." Mahogany irises gleaming nearly red in the light, she takes her free hand and gently places it over Flora's. Not condescendingly, but comfortingly. "My sister-in-arms died at my side while we fought for Stormbreak. The bow you shot was hers before it was mine. Every day I wonder if I could have prevented her death if I had done something different." Shaking her head slightly, mouth pursing at the corners in a downturn, Anju sighs. "And I am a trained Dragoon. You were not. We cannot let our grief turn into self-condemnation, or we may hesitate to make the right choice next time. And then we stand to lose someone again because we did not trust ourselves." Perhaps a bit dark, but that is the way her militaristic mind works.
As is decisiveness, as she squeezes Flora's hand firmly. "Then I will help train you," she declares. "I have trained countless soldiers, Flora. I know potential when I see it. It would be my honor to help you find it."
