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!
you've long seen your downfall, spelled out in another's bones
"Sure did." Ronin grins, happy to give that one to her because pointing out the whole instructing her to hit him thing would have ruined an otherwise nice moment. ('Nice' being debatable, but still). Stepping to the side to watch as she falls silent to concentrate, Ronin finds himself holding his breath and waiting for the dagger to leave Flora's fingertips. And when it does - and then flies back into her grip - the Doubletake isn't the only one who is clearly delighted.
"You did it," he praises, grinning and obediently sending his duplicate out to stand across from the bar, despite the less-than-ideal notion of Flora flinging a knife at his face. Well, not his face, but still. The intent is there. "Ready when you are," the projection tells her, standing stock still.
Will she send the dagger right into Ronin's face? Will she find satisfaction in possibly breaking his duplicate's nose as a way of healing all those childhood injuries she'd carried around? Would spilling his blood, fake though it might be, be the appropriate revenge for having made her cry as a child? For having threatened her mother and for having made she and Enzo live with Vai instead of with their father?
Would hitting Ronin fix everything that had gone wrong?
On the other hand, if she recalled the feather, she could prove just how skilled she'd become all on her own. That she was deserving of respect in her own right, and that she could learn. Quickly, too.
Taking a deep breath and telling herself not to recall the feather too early, she lets it fly. Only...as her fingers snap back to recall the feather, it has already destroyed Ronin's nose. The sharp serrated edges have made easy work of Ronin's skin, flaying away the cartilage and skin. Eyes wide, Flora drops the dagger as it flings back into her hand, turning toward Ronin looking appropriately like a child who has been caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
you've long seen your downfall, spelled out in another's bones
Honestly, Ronin is left hoping that it goes however Flora feels she needs it to, which is probably saying as much about his own personal growth as it is anything else. So as the projection's face is severely messed up, while he might feel a bit of a lead weight in his stomach, he's more than willing to accept it - at least, until he notices that Flora doesn't look quite as delighted as she did the first time.
Promptly dismissing the projection (and resisting the urge to rub at his nose), Ronin offers the Doubletake a wry smile. "Maybe we practice that one a little bit more before you do it to your customers?" he suggests. "It might be time to call it quits for the day, unless you want me to teach you how to put someone in a headlock." A kind way of saying no more knives today, please.
Lips parted and apologies as well as excuses brimming for pole position on her tongue, all the colour has disappeared from Flora's cheeks (save for the rouge she put on herself). "I didn't mean to!" She blurts out, sounding not unlike a wounded lamb. "I just didn't want to pull back too soon and maybe I thought it would nick your nose, but I didn't mean for-" Turning to where the projection had been and gaping at the memory of it, she swallows hard and shakes her head. "-well, for that." She concludes weakly.
Puckering out her lower lip and feeling all the more a failure for how well things had been doing early, Flora lets her shoulders slump as she nods. "Yeah, you're probably right. I dunno if I want to put anyone in a headlock, though." She mumbles, looking down at her sundress and the ample cleavage she was showing as if to suggest why she might not win to pin someone against herself.
you've long seen your downfall, spelled out in another's bones
"Hey, it's alright," Ronin assures her, still smiling and reaching out to rest his hands on her shoulders. "That's why we practiced with my projection, right? And between you and me, your aim is incredible. I just hope you never do try to throw one of those at me for real." Giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze before dropping his hands, Ronin doesn't look at his adopted daughter's cleavage, instead turning to peruse his husband's gin selection.
"You can probably leave the headlocks to the muscle you hire to keep this place peaceful," he agrees, grinning over his shoulder. "Want me to show you a cocktail we've been practicing up at the Cordillera? I've been calling it an Alpina, because it's magical, but it feels like someone has just headbutted you in the morning."
Very much wanting to believe him, it's with eyes made slightly narrow by her own negative thoughts about herself that kept her from accepting his words at face value. Daughters were complicated creatures, though given how things were progressing between Flora and Ronin, perhaps the Supernova would get the chance to learn more about that firsthand.
Lighting up the sound of a new cocktail, Flora's raised eyebrows instantly plummet at Ronin's description. "Wh...why would anyone want that?" She wonders, even as she obediently totters toward the bar. "Sounds like you and dad get up to some weird stuff up there." Flora mutters under her breath, well aware that she didn't know the half of it and quite glad for that fact.
"Thanks for helping." The Doubletake says as she takes a seat, the words a touch shy and her gaze focused somewhere around Ronin's shoulder. "I really appreciate it."
