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!
Not the coffin nails pinning his left wing and right hand to the hallowed ground - no, that shit is fucking agony, thanks for asking - but the hit to his pride is prickly too.
He can smell the iron from the nails and the canals nearby, can hear the gurgle and slap of the water against boats all tucked up in bed for the night. Just your average witching hour in Venice, and Ronin is fucked.
By all rights he probably should be burning up, given that he's just inside the gates of the San Michele cemetery, but by all the hells, apparently someone's having a big joke up there because it just hurts.
Snarling against the ache in his bones emanating from the pinned appendages, he tries to get his knees awkwardly beneath him, leather scraping against cobblestone and dirt, and shoots a filthy look into the darkness.
Priests should not be armed with this shit, and he does not appreciate it in the slightest. And as soon as he's free, he'll be giving them a piece of his mind. (And taking a piece of theirs as compensation).
08-31-2023, 07:40 PM (This post was last modified: 08-31-2023, 07:57 PM by Remi.)
REMI
when people say that something is forever
Nearby a certain angel was seated on the edge of a bench, smiling encouragingly to the storm brewing overhead and making notes in a book on his lap. Each time the clouds gave a purr of thunder, he would hum under his breath, scratch out the corresponding note on the page, and then whisper a few polite suggestions about timbre and pitch. The storm was, of course, free to take this advice or not, but if you were going to have a midsummer storm in Venice of all places, best make it worthwhile, mm?
Only..
Frowning and looking up and toward the cemetery, Remi hears the demonic moan of some unhappy creature. No doubt the Priests had once again stumbled inadvertently on some sort of summoning spell which in fact worked, and had brought some level-entity up to play. Tutting, the angel closes the book, taking care to ensure the pages were smoothed down and in place so that nothing would crinkle, before placing it into the pocket of a rather fabulous sage-green overcoat. "Now if you can just hold off for 5 minutes or so, I shall be right back with you." The angel says apologetically to the storm, before marching through the cemetery gates looking exceptionally holier than thou.
"Mi scusi! Signore!" He calls out chipperly in a voice that has spent several hundred years perfecting its accent. "Posso aiutarla..." Pausing as he moves to the side of the Priest such that he's able to see Ronin, Remi falls still, mouth slightly agape.
Oh dear.
either way, it ends
Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
He can smell the stink of the divine before Mr. Fabulous Overcoat even opens his mouth - it's something far beyond the hallowed, heavy scent of the cemetery, or the stench of fear and loathing from the priest. Straightening as much as his pinned hand and wing will allow, it's a face with high cheekbones, dark hair and even darker eyes that levels a glare at the approaching angel.
"Well, get on with it then," he snarls, unable to move thanks to the coffin nails, but he's sure his words are sharp enough to flay the skin from the priest if he tries hard enough. Less said about the angel the better, though. "Just make it quick if you don't mind. I've lived long enough that I'd prefer it if death didn't take its time."
"Oop!" The angel interjects, stepping nimbly forward to place himself in between the demon and the priest with his hands placatingly raised and a sunny smile on his lips. "I rather think this one is a bit out of your jurisdiction." He says with a laugh, rolling his wrist in Ronin's direction though never taking his eyes from the priest.
'All of these summoning spells really can be quite a bit confusing, can't they? Especially with all the smudges and don't even get me started on the amount of parchment that has cats' paws tracked all over them.' The angel continues as if the state of the parchment was far and above the most interesting thing, and not the demon pinned to a coffin.
"But it's a demon. A real flesh and blood-" The priest began to protest. "Oh, it isn't though." Remi interrupts a touch regretfully. "I can see why you'd think so, but if it was a demon, how can it be on sacred ground?" The angel wonders cheerfully.
"-but everyone needs to know, and I...I'll be mentioned in the texts alongside-"
Tutting under his breath, Remi shakes his head gravely. "Why don't you let me handle this, and I won't mention to the archbishop that not only have you been having a dabble in the sacred texts, but that you were quite keen to commit the sin of vanity, mm?"
either way, it ends
Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Yes, and about that sacred ground thing, Ronin would also like to know why he isn't currently singing his hallelujahs all the way to kingdom come, but more on that later. "And I won't mention that you've nailed me anywhere," he adds helpfully, raising his eyebrows though he can't see much of the priest with the overcoated fucking angel in the way. "Not that I think you'd be any good at nailing in any capacity." Priests, amirite?
Say, has Ronin mentioned that being pinned down like this is absolutely agonising yet? He might have to let out a little peep of protest if the situation doesn't improve soon. As it is, he resorts to literally smouldering away on the hallowed ground, a soft sheen of sweat on his forehead, his black eyes pinned on the cemetery gates that feel mockingly close by.
Ronin isn't the only one with questions about demons and sacred ground; it's one of the reasons why the angel has chosen to try and persuade the priest out of sending the creature back to hell where they all agree he should be.
"Not helping." Remi says cheerfully of the demons nailing comment, and if you listen closely you can almost hear the :) emoji at the end of his words.
'But-'
"No I know, but honestly in the morning this will all feel like-"
"-but-"
"-a blurry dream. Why don't you listen to the storm? I hear it's going to be quite spectacular."
"-but-"
"Please stop saying that."
So it was that the priest staggered off, glancing over his shoulder a few times to see the angel waving cheerfully at him while coincidentally blocking the demon from view. Overhead the sky purred, to which the angel groaned under his breath, looking suddenly quite disappointed.
Straightening and tugging at the lapels of his overcoat, Remi turns toward Ronin with a smile plastered on his face. It absolutely reached his eyes, making them twinkle various shades of green, but not in any genuine capacity. "Now then." Clearing not wanting to get too close, Remi glances at the nail still holding Ronin in place and hmmms thoughtfully under his breath. "A demon who can be on holy ground but can't free himself from a bit of iron?"
either way, it ends
Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
NailS, but who's counting, hey? (Ronin, Ronin is absolutely counting. It's two, and they fucking hurt). The sky purrs and it isn't long after that fat raindrops begin to fall; the angel might be disappointed, but his counterpart groans after the thunder as if it's conspired to appear to spite him. "And an angel who just lied to a priest," he hisses back with a smile like a crescent moon, writhing further onto his knees as much as his pinned hand and wing will allow.
"I am as dumbfounded as you are. I was minding my own business on the Riva degli Schiavoni," and here his lilting accent - Irish, if you listen close - melts into perfect Venetian, "and then suddenly I'm a pin cushion for the clergy." No, he hasn't been summoned from Hell. He was already here, and he's been summoned from one of his favourite cocktail bars.
"I didn't lie." Remi says defensively. "He said you were flesh and blood and we both know that isn't quite true." It was a clumsy enough redirect, but then as an angel it wasn't as if Remi was particularly skilled in bending the truth. "Besides, there is every reason to think that you aren't a proper demon, given.." Gesturing at the nails and the consecrated ground, the angel gives a little shrug.
Distracted by the name of the bar (or perhaps just the way the name was spoken) Remi stiffens somewhat. "What are you even doing around here, anyway?" He wonders, taking a small step forward as if he might get close enough to Ronin to decide the truth for himself without the demon noticing.
either way, it ends
Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
It isn't a bar, it's the name of a street, and Ronin would say as much if Remi had voiced the thoughts out loud. Alas, the angel continues to leave him in agony and so he continues to be an absolute ass about everything - and let's be honest, he might very well be that way anyway. "Come a little closer and I'll be more than happy to show you that I'm proper as they come," he says, though the words don't hold nearly as much bite given the pain that threads through them.
"I was having a drink, fuck," he tells the angel. "I know the sins on your lists upstairs are practically countless, but I didn't think that was one of them." And since his new divine friend is doing a lot of talking and not a lot of anything else, Ronin decides to try and free himself. Of course, the second his free hand grasps the nail in his pinned palm, there's a hiss of something sacred and he's left only with burned fingertips.
"Listen, you're giving me performance anxiety here, so if you aren't going to kill me, could you please fuck off?" he snaps.
Huffing out an exasperated breath, the angel folds his arms defiantly across his chest, though given his golden curls and extravagant attire, the gesture looked more comical than foreboding. 'You know, I don't think I will.' He says as if that will somehow show Ronin the error of his attitude.
'Not like you lot care much what does and doesn't count, but what I meant was why here. Why not...oh I don't know, somewhere like New York." You know, somewhere they rather liked sin rather than just footsteps away from Vatican City.
'Well, I might still kill you. I am an angel after all and I did say I would take care of this." But there was that whole matter of the nails and the ground; those should have taken care of the demon already.
either way, it ends
Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
"Because here is where I've been sent," Ronin hisses, his fingers flinching on the mossy cobbles and his black eyes all but burning as he glares up at the angel standing all righteous and cutesy over him. "Why are you here, if not because this is where you've been told to be?" That's how it works regardless of the colour of their soul, as far as Ronin knows. And he hates that too, but they're not exactly on let's philosophise together terms right now.
Gritting his teeth and feeling his back, feathers and hair start to grow cold and wet from the patter of the storm's raindrops, eventually the demon is forced to swallow his pride behind his forked tongue, and all the fight seems to drain out of him. "Listen, I don't know why I'm not dust right now. Maybe it's something to do with the ritual that priest was doing or- or the way the stars are aligned, or whatever."
Exhaling a long sigh, he levels a flat black gaze up at what could very be his reckoning. "If you are going to kill me, though, would you at least let me stand up?" And then - and it's almost painful in that it's a surprise to Ronin as well, he adds, "Please?"
"Sent?" Remi's brow furrows. "Why?" He asks skeptically, as if he has a right to know. 'Well, yes of course, I just...well I haven't seen you around." And he'd have noticed. You know, because Ronin was a demon.
"You aren't here to kill the Pope, are you? I quite like this one." The angel wonders suddenly, taking an inadvertent step forward. "He's done such lovely things for the queer community." He adds with a little sigh.
As another shiver of thunder ripples through the air, the angel glances up as raindrops pitter-patter onto his upturned face. 'Oh..' He sighs sadly to himself before looking back to the demon. 'Well I can't just...let you go.' Remi points out quite reasonably, before wincing at the pain in the demon's face. "And I've already said that I'm not going to kill you, so...Well, I'm not sure where that leaves us. Perhaps I should...call someone?"
either way, it ends
Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
"Why in hell's name would I be here to kill the Pope?" Ronin snaps. "This is Venice. The Pope lives in Rome." How he manages to look so incredulous when literally pinned to the ground by coffin nails is something Remi can ruminate on at his leisure, but the demon certainly manages it. Anyway. "I try not to be around when you are," he points out. Hence why they're running into each other now, when he hasn't planned it.
Why the devil not? he might have asked were it the appropriate time, but the storm is getting worse and his small-talk is getting more difficult to maintain, honestly. "Who would you call? The angel police?" he wonders, slumping a little to rest his cheek against the cool, for-some-reason-not-burning-him ground. It turns his kneeling position into one of prostration, and God he doesn't even care.
"Bind me, then," he says defeatedly, as if somehow offering such a thing as advice is suddenly the most reasonable part of his night. "To... I don't know, a gravestone, the priest, you."
"Well it isn't like it's far, is it." Remi snaps, looking uncharacteristically flustered for a moment. Pulling in a breath and smoothing down the front of his jacket, the angel's hands stop abruptly on his stomach. "Wh-!" He blinks. "You mean you've been watching me?" gasps in angelic Spanish.
'Well, someone higher up. An adultier adult as the vernacular these days goes.' He says with a tittery little laugh, trying to ignore the way the increase in the rain made him want to scamper away into the nearest restaurant. 'Fine. But no funny business.' He agrees, waggling a finger at Ronin before a length of golden cord appears in his hands.
"Now, if you'll just...erm.." Edging toward the demon, Remi flashes him a rather apologetic smile as he loops the rope around one hand. "..and now just.." Reaching for the hand pinned to the coffee, Remi gives a little waggle of his fingers and the nail falls harmlessly onto the ground.
either way, it ends
Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
