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!
I've done nothing wrong Except for all the atrocities
She flinched at the mutter, but knew, understood, exactly where Jack was coming from. Because Sunjata did and had said so many things, promises and convictions that went nowhere or sputtered so nefariously out of control that he wreaked and distorted multitudes of lives. Maybe this was a turning point for him, or perhaps another opportunity to flail and stumble, and she really didn’t, couldn’t, comprehend where it was going. Just that he’d given her a chance to be consumed by it too, and so her eyes went low, looking over the sand as Fangorn wrapped his vines around her arms. “Yeah, he does.”
Unaware of why he’d be cursing, other than the current subject, her gilded gaze flicked back up to his at the oath. “It doesn’t, and I don’t, I just - ,” maybe craved to be wanted somewhere. Melita had always carved a place for herself, and to hear someone would be willing to have her in their space, to have family again when everyone else had been lost –
Her fingers curled over the top of Fangorn’s head, and long sigh uttered forth. She’d lost the spark and fire and felt like some diminished inferno, nothing but coal and inklings at the forefront. The crew missing her almost made her snort, but it caught somewhere in her chest and stayed lodged there. “I wondered if like, we could do something so the Ark could come in and then I could still be a part of it,” except now that felt like a resounding no.
"You really reckon you could keep on top of it all?" Jack scoffs, purposely not looking at Melita and instead searching for the cigarettes in the inside pocket of his waistcoat. "New life in shiny KiNg'S EnD, an uncle hoverin' over you. Hands'll be pretty full." It's as soft a no as anyone is like to get from the captain, and he strikes a match and takes a long inhale from the smoke to carve out an extra few seconds.
"Name your price, then," he mutters, like it's some business transaction and she's managed to strong-arm him into a corner. "Jata's got a new place an' he wants you to live there'n build onto it an' all this. What'd you want, to stay here instead?" Exhaling roughly, he raises his eyebrows across at the Honeybee.
Jack being an Abandoned is common knowledge these days, however his Telepathy remains a well-kept secret:
Magic: Passive Telepathy | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 30ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
Type: Grey | Rank: Mastered
Also branded with a small star tattoo beneath his left eye.
I've done nothing wrong Except for all the atrocities
No, she hadn’t considered it – and because she’d had so much freedom in Torchline to just do whatever the fuck she wanted (with or without approval, no one had dared stop her before), the notions made her nose wrinkle. “I don’t know,” was an honest response, another sullen sigh lodged in between ribcages and lungs. Truth be told, Sunjata might not have given a fuck about what she did either.
But the other reaction wasn’t what she expected at all – head whipping upward, eyes widening, she stared at the man as if she hadn’t heard him correctly. He’d never presented her with any kind of deal before, save for maybe employment, and she was struck almost dumb by the concept. And then impulse took over, and the curl of her grin flickered its way back to her mouth. “My own skyboat.” She could handle a miniature version of the Ark, barreling around the realms, maybe with a slew of weapons and armaments notched to the side.
I don't know isn't good enough and Jack is about to snap something to that effect when Melita fucking stares him down and the captain can feel the wildfire in her head start to take hold. He knows what she's going to say before she even says it, Jack halfway to grabbing a fistful of her fiery hair, or the collar of her shirt, to tell her what the fuck she thinks she's playing at, but then... it's obvious. She's playing him.
And gods damn it, but he's let her, too.
Inhaling slowly through clenched teeth, it's with eyes like shards of the sky that the captain flicks the ash from his cigarette. His back straightens and his shoulders set, and he glances - fleetingly - up towards where he know Stormbreak lurks overhead, freshly welcoming of Abandoned.
"Done," he hisses. "But you stay in Torchline and you're still part of the Ark. Deal?" Easy as that.
Jack being an Abandoned is common knowledge these days, however his Telepathy remains a well-kept secret:
Magic: Passive Telepathy | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 30ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
Type: Grey | Rank: Mastered
Also branded with a small star tattoo beneath his left eye.
I've done nothing wrong Except for all the atrocities
Melita had no reason to hide her sudden, insatiable, gluttonous, avaricious little grin – ravenously content on how she was suddenly being fed and catered to. Two could play at that game, ol’ Jacky boy, and she’d take the notions of staying within Torchline, and working for the Ark, for another sweet semblance of freedom, liberation, and future ammunitions. Besides, she’d still have the luxury of traversing over to King’s End whenever she wanted, especially with a skyboat of her own, and gods forbid anyone get in her way.
She didn’t expect the sudden acceptance, nor understand the notions behind hiding and tucking everything away in lieu of simple pacts, but it was enough to sate her demonic, fiendish regards. “Deal,” she nodded. Jata would understand.
Though she paused, reflecting, eyes glancing upward as if she either expected the vessel to suddenly appear out of thin air, or another thought was traipsing through. “This could work out well too, if you want to do something in King’s End.” She could go on her own little fuck-around errands.
Or Jata wouldn't understand - Jack doesn't care either way. Deal sings from Melita's lips and through her mind, the captain running his tongue across his teeth. Something loosens and relaxes in his throat and his spine, and it's a foreign enough feeling that he makes a note to furiously dismiss it. (It's relief, something hollow whispers to him from deep inside, and you fucking know it.)
"Oh is that so?" he drawls, stifling the smile that wants to creep across his lips now that he and the Honeybee seem to be of an accord, and he begins to walk more earnestly towards the Hanged Man. Such things should always be sealed with a drink, after all. "We'd best get on that first trip to King's End sooner rather'n later, then."
Holding open the door for Mel in a way that still somehow doesn't seem polite, Jack waves for a bottle of whisky and slumps down at one of the tables. "I'll get you your ship by the time we set out. You know how to fly?" It's one thing to pew pew cannons and watch Jack at work, but another entirely to do it oneself.
(Mainly he just doesn't want her crashing into the fucking Ark).
Jack being an Abandoned is common knowledge these days, however his Telepathy remains a well-kept secret:
Magic: Passive Telepathy | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 30ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
Type: Grey | Rank: Mastered
Also branded with a small star tattoo beneath his left eye.
I've done nothing wrong Except for all the atrocities
If she noticed Jack’s slight change in behavior, she didn’t say anything. An arch of a brow might’ve indicated some notice, but otherwise she persisted in her own little seditious manner, brain already concocting images of flying across the sky with a round of cannons mounted upon the edge of her newfound apparatus, scaling the world with naught more than a triumphant laugh and the boom of armaments –
The inquiry burst only a little bit of her imagination, and she snorted. “Nah. But how hard could it be?” Besides, there were plenty of places to practice; and if she crashed into the sand or water from miniscule heights to start, the Honeybee presumed it wouldn’t be a big deal. “I’ll practice,” she promised, as if that was some level of reassurance. To be fair, considering how determined she was with weapons, one could believe she’d be about the same with the vessel.
Oh, Jack is full aware of the potential danger that now looms over Torchline - not as a result of Mel's skyship adventures, but from her flying practice. Even as he pours them both a measure of liquor and slides the glass across the table to her, there's a shadow of a frown on his face that's nothing to do with the captain's customary surly mood, and everything to do with realising the consequences of his own actions.
"You'd better," he rumbles, shooting back the whisky without a thought. "I'll teach you," he adds, and if Mel thinks this is Jack being selfless, she probably ought to know it's self-preservation in disguise.
Clearing his throat and pouring himself another drink, he holds out his glass to clink it against her own. "Glad that's settled, then," he mutters.
Jack being an Abandoned is common knowledge these days, however his Telepathy remains a well-kept secret:
Magic: Passive Telepathy | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 30ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
Type: Grey | Rank: Mastered
Also branded with a small star tattoo beneath his left eye.
I've done nothing wrong Except for all the atrocities
While Jack potentially loomed over the impending maelstrom set upon Torchline, Melita contentedly drank, a happy little buzz forming. Mind full of the possibilities, the Honeybee hadn’t accounted for the Captain’s offer, and she blinked stupidly, as if trying to reform the words in her mind. Whether or not the whole notion should’ve been extended, or accepted, was neither here nor there. “Sure,” she nodded once she got over the shock and bewilderment, pondering just how far the torture upon Jack would preside.
Heh.
“Nice doing business with you,” and she clinked in return, before they could return to more strategies and future torment.
