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!
Snowfall is quieter than she expects it to be, and it muffles everything around it such that Dahlia approaches the House of Midnight with her hands clasped over her ears periodically, checking for deafness. Thankfully, upon pushing open the doors to the establishment, sound returns in its full riotous panorama, and she turns to shut out the Deepfrost assassin with gusto.
Woefully underdressed for the season and even less so for Longnight, she is nonetheless in high spirits to drink in the lavish decor, the curves and ripples on display, the tang of liquor in the air. This - this is what she could sense out in the dark, she's certain of it. "I would like to speak with the master of the house," she informs the receptionist, meek and smiling, despite having killed her thrice over in her mind.
let me put my lips to something
let me wrap my teeth around the world
i was raised as a scorpion being pulled by the moon in a high tide
The craters have resulted in next to nothing but discomfort and a prickly feeling in the air that the Flood can’t get out of his head, even as he spends the rest of the time back at the House of Midnight assuring people that things are fine. It might be a lie, it might not be, but so far other than that everything’s gone relatively smoothly for LongNight.
That is, until his presence is requested, putting a pin in any plans he’s had. He comes down the stairs to the reception area dressed in a deep blue sweater with the sleeves rolled up, dark pants, and his usual boots. His fingers glint with Nate’s wedding ring still placed there and the dual set of earrings in his ears. And of course, all the scars.
He first lays his eyes on her as he emerges from above, taking in her dark hair and pale skin and bright eyes, and being ever the gentleman (with nothing to go off of that this situation might be something he should be wary of), he gives her a crooked smile of greeting. “How can I help you?” His accented voice breaks the air and faint chatter between them.
the flood
that's why i'm broken, yeah, am i a villain or a saint?
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.
Hedonistic at heart, the Flood's appearance swarms her senses like a kaleidoscope of scars and silver and deep, deep blue, and for a second Dahlia can do little more than stare and openly admire. In a plain, damp dress and with dirtied feet, she'd be waif-like if not for the buxom curves and healthy flush to her cheeks from the House's warmth. "The stories don't do you justice," she breathes, coy and smiling.
"My apologies. I had heard that the Flood was the owner of this establishment. I only hoped I might meet you. My name is Dahlia." With a little bob of a curtsey, she smooths an impossible crease out in her dress. "I also wondered whether anyone else had come by this Longnight? I'm looking for someone."
let me put my lips to something
let me wrap my teeth around the world
i was raised as a scorpion being pulled by the moon in a high tide
The closer he gets the more he can take in the rest of her — the bare and dirty feet, the plain dress, but his eyes lift to catch her face the second she starts to speak and the smile remains just as crooked and polite in greeting. Of course, he hopes the stories are good ones that she’s referring to, but instead of commenting that particular thought, he simply responds with “is that so?”
Bypassing it for the next bout to come from her lips, he steps closer to offer his hand just to
Guide her out of the cold entry way into the House of Midnight deeper toward the fireplace once she’s done straightening out from her curtsy and smoothing out her dress. “Well, you have me now. Pleased to meet you Dahlia, you can call me Sunjata.” It’s professional and easy, until confusion flickers momentarily on his face as he shakes his head, silver dangling earrings bouncing with the movement. “Mm, no. Just you. Everyone else has been here from the start. But if you tell me their name I can have my staff keep an eye out?”
the flood
that's why i'm broken, yeah, am i a villain or a saint?
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.
"It certainly is so," she chimes, tilting her head to him. "It isn't every day you come across the man who created Frey's refuge." Reaching out readily to clasp his hand, her touch feels almost restrained, nervous in the prospect of doing too much, wanting too much. Nonetheless she follows him to the fire, relishing the plush rug against her bare feet, the tickle of warmth from the flames nearby.
"I would argue that I am a long way from having someone like you," she says through a soft laugh. "But it's a pleasure anyway, Sunjata." One she hopes he'll keep indulging in, if only for a little longer.
Frowning gently to hear that there haven't been any other random visitors throughout Longnight (quelle surprise), Dahlia's shoulders sag with the force of her sigh. "Yes, of course. His name is Koa Carpenter."
let me put my lips to something
let me wrap my teeth around the world
i was raised as a scorpion being pulled by the moon in a high tide
Her continued words give him all the information he needs on what kind of stories she was listening to – and he doesn’t realize it immediately, but some tension leaves his chest with the quiet realization. “Mm, no, I suppose it isn’t.” For him, though, obviously it was every day. For others? It makes sense to him that it would be a thing of surprise. Regardless, most people these days knew he stayed close to both, calling King’s End his home in the face of everything else he’s done. But those are stories that don’t get uttered that often these days.
He guides her to the fire, toward a comfortable chair should she wish to sit, and he releases her hand the second that they’re in the comfort of the lounge space. Humming a laugh at her comment, his smile twists a bit more playful and his head tilts with an avian touch when he finds the words to respond. “And I suppose that’s true.” But given the space they’re in, she could find someone like him enough perhaps to indulge if that’s what she wishes.
But he doesn’t expect to hear Koa’s name fall from her lips when it comes to who she’s looking for and he watches her visibly deflate with the sigh. “I know Koa.” He rumbles with a hint of quiet curiosity. “I believe it’s likelier to find him in Stormbreak than it would be here.” He doesn’t know exactly where, but that region would be a better place to start looking. “But, since you are here, can I get you anything? A room, a bath, food and drink, clean clothes?”
the flood
that's why i'm broken, yeah, am i a villain or a saint?
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.
"Not a day I'll forget," Dahlia assures him. "Or a night, I should say." Taking him up on his offer, she sinks gratefully down into the chair, her fingertips pressing against her lips as if she might be able to transfer the leftover warmth from his touch. "How do you go from making a place like the refuge to running somewhere like this?" she asks, little more than open curiosity in her tone and interest in her baby blues.
Sitting forward a touch to hear that he knows Koa, even if he isn't anywhere nearby, something like relief injects her expression. "I'll have to visit when the sun comes back," she decides. For now, though, her attention is freshly caught by the Flood, and its with a coy smile that she lets her hand drop to her lap. "The stories didn't mention you were this generous," she remarks. "That would be very kind of you, though. I have never been to King's End before."
let me put my lips to something
let me wrap my teeth around the world
i was raised as a scorpion being pulled by the moon in a high tide
She flatters him, and perhaps that’s her intention to fill his ego, but Sunjata won’t find a reason to complain. He sits opposite of her as she takes her hand, the one that had been clasped with his, and presses her fingertips to her lips — another little note Sunjata picked up on. He looks around the brothel, steel gaze taking in the warm interior, before a soft chuckle leaves him and he finds her face again. “Easily when priorities change. The Refuge was what people needed at the time. The House of Midnight is more like a personal project.” A casual shrug is given as he stretches out, stretching his long legs.
His lips part to mention that she’s welcome to stay her until LongNight ends, before she continues on in regards to his generosity, sparking his curiosity. “I have the ability to be generous these days.” Something he indulges in, in a self spiraling cycle of trying to atone for his previous mistakes. All things he doesn’t mention in particular.
Regardless, a hand waves slightly to get the waiter’s attention to bring some drink and food over, and the second the waiter arrives he mentally rumbles a note of getting her a room with clean clothes situated to the Attuned so that it can be in order by the time she’s done. “What made you decide to wander through at this time of the year?” He probes casually, that curious smile remaining on his face all the while.
the flood
that's why i'm broken, yeah, am i a villain or a saint?
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.
"I see," Dahlia muses, letting her gaze flicker around the lounge area, drinking in the wait staff, the decor, the liquor sparkling in bottles behind the bar. "I didn't know if this was another task for Frey. A personal project sounds much more enjoyable," she admits. Watching the stretch of his long limbs as if they might hold some secret worth knowing, she beholds him like an art aficionado might observe a fine painting, seeking details and meaning wherever possible.
"Well I certainly appreciate it. Is there any way I can repay you?" she wonders, peering curiously at the waiters and watching after them before her gaze returns inevitably to Sunjata. "Well, I was planning to stay in the camp I had made until Longnight passed, but then I saw those meteorites," she says softly. "By the time I saw where they went down, though, I got turned around. I started walking and just found myself here."
let me put my lips to something
let me wrap my teeth around the world
i was raised as a scorpion being pulled by the moon in a high tide
“Don’t get me wrong, Frey certainly has their fingers in this. The rooms, for example, change depending on wherever you want to be.” A boon when one wanted to be in compromising areas without risking their actual safety. And it also kept the place feeling fresh when the rooms didn’t look the same day after day, fuck after fuck.
His gaze finds her again, scanning him like she’s trying to read him, and it’s a strange feeling that he doesn’t expect as he regards her and her ask of repayment. “Perhaps, but let’s get you settled in before figuring out all the logistics.” A casual shrug is offered, the sweater rippling with the movement as the waiter returns with food and drink to set on the end table beside her.
With the mention of meteorites, his gaze promptly snaps from the tray of food back to Dahlia’s face, a dark brow lifting. “I saw them too. I went out to investigate them, but came up empty. Shame we didn’t cross paths on the way.” And he pauses briefly, because he realizes he hasn’t asked another little detailed question – why was she even camping in King’s End at all? “Where are you from?” He asks curiously, as if trying to gain an idea of which direction she came from that would make it so he didn’t see her on the way back to the House of Midnight.
the flood
that's why i'm broken, yeah, am i a villain or a saint?
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.
"Do they?" With raised eyebrows, Dahlia sinks further into her seat, a faraway look in her eyes suggesting some deep, imagined scenario. Blinking a few times, she brings herself back to the here and now. Just in time to watch the light play over the stretch of Sunjata's clothes, and for the food and drink to arrive. Tilting her head and carefully selecting a cherry from the plate, she spends a moment admiring the fruit before sampling it.
Humming out something soft and indulgent, the burst of aromatic sweetness on her tongue, the bite of the pit, the velvet softness of the cherry flesh - all of it seems to come as a surprise to Dahlia, such that Sunjata's comments and questions are momentarily forgotten. Like a woman who has never realised she's been starving all this time, the simple pleasure of food is almost overwhelming.
"Hmm...? Oh, I'm from somewhere north of here," she murmurs, lips painted vibrantly with juice. "I think the meteorites were visible from all around, though."
let me put my lips to something
let me wrap my teeth around the world
i was raised as a scorpion being pulled by the moon in a high tide
“They do.” Sunjata confirms without a heartbeat of hesitation, casually watching her as he spots that faraway look as if trying to determine just what kind of room she was thinking of. He comes up empty, of course, not knowing her well enough to determine what might be the best choice for her, drawing silent while the food and drinks arrive.
What he doesn’t expect the reaction she gives when she inspects the cherry, nor the hum that leaves her when she tastes it, nor the smattering of juice deepening the hue of her lips. He finds himself glancing toward the bar behind them with a mental call back to the Attuned for a glass of whiskey that comes relatively quickly. “Could very well be. I went out to investigate but didn’t see anything except the empty craters themselves.” A casual shrug comes from a broad shoulder, before his gaze returns back to her, something a bit more curious and serious in his gaze.
the flood
that's why i'm broken, yeah, am i a villain or a saint?
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.
"Empty, huh? No meteorites in there?" Dahlia's dark brows raise, and she sets down the cherry stem onto the plate before selecting a soft peach to sample next. "Perhaps they burned up on impact." Or perhaps they crawled out and became people and are sneaking around your brothel, who knows?
Sinking her teeth into the peach flesh, Dahlia's smile is hidden behind the fruit, though the juice dripping freely from her chin says everything about her opinion. Setting it down onto the plate and returning her gaze to Sunjata, she licks her fingers and watches him with equal curiosity. "So how long have you been running this place?"
let me put my lips to something
let me wrap my teeth around the world
i was raised as a scorpion being pulled by the moon in a high tide
He can’t help himself but to watch as she discards the cherry stem and picks up the peach, a dark scarred brow rising as he tilts his head slightly. “I suppose if they burned up there shouldn’t be a crater.” Logistically speaking, at least. But that’s neither here nor there – something could’ve survived somehow and wandered off. Though of course, Sunjata’s mind leads it to strange otherworldly beasts of nightmares and lore rather than something human.
So instead he lets his gaze follow along the spill of juice from her full lips, followed by the way she licks her fingers clean and he finds himself taking a sip of the whiskey to distract his mind. “Exactly a year now, though I’m not unfamiliar with King’s End thankfully.” He says the second the alcohol has burned down his throat, returning that steel gaze back onto the woman before him and offering a small Cheshire smile. “It’s an addition of sorts, figuring that people needed a place like this out here in the middle of nowhere.”
the flood
that's why i'm broken, yeah, am i a villain or a saint?
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.
