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!
The knife twists at the thought that I should fall short of the mark
She shows up not as Captain, but as merely Anju. No formal attire, sword and holster left in her own home, hair in a messy bun instead of one of her painstakingly perfect styles. Lately, she has been reflecting on her desires to be closer to her soldiers, to show them some measure of warmth and understanding that previously Anju had assumed could not be afforded. Now, with a new leader and a re-established council, perhaps it is the right time. Koa had merely been the first to give her an adequate opening.
Koa's stiffness had been unmistakable and equally out of character during the city meeting. Having been at Sohalia's side, Anju had not been able to check in on him at that very moment, but she does not procrastinate once the meeting is disbanded. Koa had been on duty, so the very next morning she arrives at the Carpenter household and raps her knuckles sharply on the door, Riya's giant head peering between her knees to ruin any illusion of stoicism that may have lingered.
The moment the door swings open, Anju pins Koa with her gaze - still intense, but set in an expression that is both more approachable and clearly concerned. "Koa. May I come in?" Utilizing his first name the moment she has the chance to make it clear this is personal, not business.
You're frightened by my bite though it's no harsher than my bark
Don't take this the wrong way You knew who I was with every step that I ran to you
"What do you want-- oh, fuck. Captain."
The creature who opens the Carpenter's door is a far cry from the young Dragoon Anju is accustomed to seeing on the training grounds. Usually fresh-faced and well groomed, today's Koa is decidedly disheveled, his clothes rumpled from the night before, his thick hair styled in a way that could only be called "roadkill porcupine". A beautiful bruise shines on his right cheek; his left eye sports a bag so deep a woman could lose her soul in it. Has he slept? Probably not, and if yes it was for fits and starts, between bad decisions as hazy as dreams.
The scowl with which the boy greets Anju quickly dissipates, replaced by comical, abject panic. On autopilot Koa straightens his spine, pulling together some terrible facsimile of a soldier at attention. "Did I have duty today?" Shit, he thought he was finally off, otherwise he wouldn't have gone so hard. His brain is too fuzzy with heartbreak and hangover to register how informal she's been. "I'm sorry - I just need five minutes and I'll be ready."
I don't need to tell you, but this is clearly false.
Only blue or black days Electing strange perfections in any stranger I choose
The knife twists at the thought that I should fall short of the mark
Despite the concern that lodges between her ribs like a stone, making it hard to breathe without the pinch of reminder, Koa’s reaction upon recognizing who is at his door admittedly makes her have to exhale sharply to avoid truly laughing. She even might have were he not clearly distressed and disheveled. Lifting both hands, palms open, Anju shakes her head firmly. Maybe one of the motions will get through to his brain and encourage the snap of realization.
Between her knees Riya peers through Koa’s legs, letting out a songlike, beckoning croon in hopes of luring Pip into view. Anju ignores her for the moment given she hasn’t tried something stupid like shoving past Koa - a thought she can tell is appealing given how Riya’s intrigue spikes immediately after Anju thinks that.
“No. You’re off-duty today. This is a personal visit.” Dropping her hands, she lifts a brow - inquisitive but not sardonic as she repeats her initial question. “May we come in?” Now that she has seen the physical reality of his despair she can’t fathom walking away, but it has to be his choice.
You're frightened by my bite though it's no harsher than my bark
Don't take this the wrong way You knew who I was with every step that I ran to you
Riya's call is not unanswered, as from somewhere deep within the house comes Pip's, well, squeaky, reply. A few moments later the little dragonling trots out, her long claws clacking cheerfully on the hardwood, a tattered length of blue ribbon hanging off her long tail. She bee-lines for Riya, crooning and trilling urgently in the language of dragons as she attempts to crawl onto the older reptile's back. It's a testament to the strength of Koa's hangover that he makes no effort to stop her, simply watches with weary resignation as his dragonling once more breaks all codes of decorum (he thinks) a Dragoon should maintain.
His shoulders relax somewhat when he learns this is a social call, though the furrowed line between his brows deepens in exchange. "Um, yeah, of course." Koa stands aside to let the pair into his house, now less panicked but very perplexed, his fuzzy brain at a loss for why his Captain might be here. "Dad and Noe are at work. The dining room is... well, you know."
Anju will find the house remarkably tidy, perhaps even moreso than when his mother was alive. Koa follows his Captain in, rubbing his neck and inadvertently messing his hair up more. "I have some tea if you want it. Uh..." He leans against the wall, his hulking frame looking strangely small with his arms wrapped around his chest. "Or was there... did you want something else?" Graceful host the boy is not.
Only blue or black days Electing strange perfections in any stranger I choose
The knife twists at the thought that I should fall short of the mark
Riya, who has clearly found a kindred soul in Pip, croons back in her deeper register as she obligingly dips a wing to allow the hatchling to clamber onto her back before shamelessly wandering through the open door past Koa's legs to find somewhere in the house to cuddle commune. Anju watches them a little helplessly, eternally exasperated by her sister's lack of propriety. As she glances back up at Koa's face and sees a mirrored expression on his tired face, Anju can't help the twitch of her lips at their unintentional commiseration.
Stepping neatly inside when he offers, Anju removes her shoes habitually and sets them by the wall before walking further inside, head on a slow swivel. She had shared tea with Koa's mother in the kitchen, leaning companionably against the counters under the guise of a quick chat that had never been as quick as they claimed it would be. And there, a family photo in the same frame it has always inhabited. It's almost too clean though, all comfortable lived-in signs of life removed, and though her grief will never match the depths of Koa's her own aches anew in the space between each rib. She cannot fault them for packing things away, but as it's the first time she has returned to the Carpenter residence since the Ascended attack, Anju cannot help the desire to see her friend's coat, shoes, or wallet strewn around the home.
"Tea would be wonderful." The reserved tone is clearly not directed at him given her far-away gaze, but she shakes her head slightly and forces herself to refocus as she sits in one of the chairs and pulls the other out, signaling she wants Koa to join her when the tea preparation has concluded. "You should make one for yourself. It will help with the hangover." Hydration that would also soothe his stomach, erasing any queasiness so that he might be able to eat sooner. "Ginger or lemon perhaps?" She is a black tea woman, but will gladly share in something more suited for his particular affliction.
You're frightened by my bite though it's no harsher than my bark
Don't take this the wrong way You knew who I was with every step that I ran to you
It's true that these days the Carpenter house lacks some of the warmth that makes for a proper home. There was a time when laughter brightened even the windowless rooms, when the home was tidy instead of sterile, but those days died with their matriarch. Now all three (four, counting Pip) denizens are out more often than in, and when they are home they tiptoe around as though afraid that by living they may disturb the ghost whose shadow sleeps in the crevice of their hearts.
It's a strange thing, then, to see Anju there, especially in the absence of Mahina. It feels as though he's staring into a picture frame with one figure removed, the specter of his mother beside her friend as present in memory as it is absent from sight. Koa swallows hard, finding his throat is dry and his mouth is full of cotton. There are tears, unbidden, in his eyes, and he's grateful when Anju asks for tea, quick to use the task as an escape from her sharp gaze and his own tumultuous emotions.
"Yes ma'am." He winces self-consciously at the mention of his hangover, pausing to examine his disheveled reflection in an overturned pot. He's a mess, even blurry and obscured, and though he tries to flatten his hair it remains stubbornly awry. Sighing in resignation, Koa turns away from the reminder of his mistakes, instead focusing on getting a kettle heating and the tea into cups.
He returns, somewhat, while the water warms, leaning on the doorframe between kitchen and dining room. His head is a waterfall of disorganization and pain, but he's already got a little color in his cheeks, orders giving purpose to laconic limbs. "So uh... do what do I owe this visit, Auntie Anju?" Koa asks, the childhood honorific as unused yet familiar as a long-forgotten scarf. "I don't think you've been over socially since... well, y'know."
Only blue or black days Electing strange perfections in any stranger I choose
The knife twists at the thought that I should fall short of the mark
People often believe Anju is not keen-eyed when it comes to emotion given she is so careful and particular with her own, but that has never been the case. Koa in particular is familiar to her, having watched him grow from a gangly pre-teen to a young man. She can tell when he is hurting. Often, she can parse why. When he'd opened the door his misery had been a mystery, but as she sits at the table she knows that right now their grief has a shared name.
She gives him the privacy of his sorrow, and wonders - as she always does - if that is the right thing to do.
"No ma'am in the house, Koa," she reminds him with a phrase that's practically rote, no matter how much time has passed. It makes her lips twitch in a small smile, helping ease away the hurt a little. As does the loving moniker he uses - a title she doesn't feel she has lived up to since the war. "I'm sorry for that," she murmurs, her frown self-deprecating and severe. This shouldn't be her first time back. But that's why she has to do this, take care of Koa the way Mahina would have now that she's gone. Atone for her mistakes, her absent-minded, isolating manner of grieving.
"I'm worried about you." This, at least, is mildly rehearsed as she lifts her intense gaze to him, softened only by the furrow of her brows. "Something happened, I can tell, but I haven't been able to figure out what." It hasn't been anything official, or she would have approached him as Captain instead of aunt. "I won't force you to tell me. You know that. But I do have a proposition for you if you will hear me out." She is always careful not to make it a command, artfully changing roles in a way she has mastered over the years to never take advantage of the power she wields.
You're frightened by my bite though it's no harsher than my bark
Don't take this the wrong way You knew who I was with every step that I ran to you
He looks away when she says she's worried, a flush of shame creeping out from underneath his collar. All he's done for years, it feels, is to try to keep others from worrying, and the weight of failure coupled with the vivid awareness of being seen is almost too much for Koa's fragile mental state. "I'm fine," the boy counters automatically, a forced smile utterly failing to make it to his eyes which remain fixed studiously on the empty chair. "Haven't been sleeping well." It's a lie, and they both know it, but it's a lie he almost believes. Has made himself live and breathe and adhere to, whispered like a prayer. I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine.
Soh was the first person he really opened up to, the only one he thought he might be able to be not fine with, and look how that had gone?
But Anju, blessed Auntie Anju, promises not to pry, and so Koa doesn't spill the tears that sting against his eyes. Instead he straightens, eyebrows raising toward messy hair at her proposition. "Oh?" he presses, grateful for rhe change in topic, for the promise of something to distract himself with. "Something for the Dragoons, or...?"
Only blue or black days Electing strange perfections in any stranger I choose
The knife twists at the thought that I should fall short of the mark
It's a blatant lie, and Anju does not like to be lied to. More so in uniform, so she allows him some small measure of grace in the privacy of his home, but she does arch a brow in silent disbelief. She'd promised not to pry, but he's kidding himself if he believes he can fool her.
"No," she puts an end to that thought immediately, folding her hands in her lap with the tea still steeping and disallowing her anything else to do with them. "I've preemptively arranged coverage for your shifts and donated some of my vacation time to cover you for two weeks." It's a blunt and unexpected reveal, but Anju knows no other way to do things. She has far too much vacation time accrued given nobody has been able to force her to take it over the years, and as Captain nobody can tell her to anymore. It's nothing she'll miss. "Go. Get out of Stormbreak. Take a vacation, Koa. You deserve it as much as you need it."
And then, softening, her eyes find his. "I'll take care of your family. You have my word." All things taken care of that might otherwise haunt him the moment he leaves.
You're frightened by my bite though it's no harsher than my bark
Don't take this the wrong way You knew who I was with every step that I ran to you
He's floored, honestly. And he's frightened, because his first thought when she drops her bombshell is fuck, I'm being put on leave. Had his mother ever been ordered to take two weeks off? Had anyone? Koa blanches, brows furrowing tight. "Cap-- Anju, you don't have to-- I'm fine---"
But the protest fails and falters, the lie as exhausted as he is. Anju doesn't seem particularly angry; if anything she's sympathetic, her kind intentions clear beneath the blunt delivery. And it's true: between his myriad of projects and his late nights boxing, the young Dragoon has been running himself more ragged than he realizes. This recent heartbreak has simply been the straw that broke his back, sending fractures down the careful façade of I'm doing great he wears.
So he doesn't protest further, especially when she preempts his remaining worries and promises to look in on Noe and their dad. In part because he knows it'll be a losing battle; in part because he's just so grateful, relieved in a way he didn't know he could feel. Broad shoulders slump, a weight sliding off them. "Thanks, Auntie," the Dragoon murmurs, eyes crinkling in a grateful smile despite the bags that weigh them down.
A sharp whistle from the kitchen breaks the moment, Koa turning to fetch the teapot and begin to fill up cups. He returns with two mugs, both made by his father, though one shows signs of a childish hand (especially in the large black dragon emblazoned haphazardly on its side, a signature of 'KOA' clearly demarcating the artist) "Maybe after, I could stay a while?" he asks, extending the painted mug to Anju, as well as a box of tea. His own mug sports a concoction of Mateo's making that smells pungently of herbs and licorice, but is excellent for hangovers.
And then, because like Anju the boy is rather incapable of taking a break, he settles into the chair across from her and begins to expound on some of his ideas for the Dragoons, growing more and more animated as time goes on. By the time she leaves he will be almost human, invigorated and enthused, the fractures in his heart beginning to slowly mend.
{fin <3}
Only blue or black days Electing strange perfections in any stranger I choose
