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!
It's like the one they had up in the Tramezzino, except where that one put the emphasis on the house aspect, this one definitely focuses more on the boat. It's also substantially smaller (snug, the merchant had insisted), and has a barge-like quality about it that Ronin loves and hates in ten second intervals.
Currently, the Nova is standing on the dock next to where it's been moored, chewing the inside of his cheek about it with his arms folded across his chest. There's a tiny deck outside the front (or is the back?) door, enough for perhaps a flowerpot and a koi carp in a cramped bowl, and everything is, at present, a drab shade of wood brown.
"Apparently, the person who owned this before us named her The Itchy Pussy," he drawls.
Let's not get lost in the dark blue But darling if we do, just find me and I'll find you
Standing on the dock, Remi has one arm folded across his chest while the other itches at the scruff on his chin. Up in the mountains being bearded was an appropriate defense against the wind chill, but down here at sea level his face suddenly felt heavy with salt. Exhaling slowly and thoughtfully, the Lullaby looked the boat over with eyes that desperately tried to see the potential in the cobbled-together slats of wood that had been described as "sea-worthy". By what standard?!
Glancing over his shoulder at Ronin and wincing a touch at the name, Remi purses his lips together and gives his head a lopsided shake. "Well I suppose since we are neither female nor own cats that is not as much of a worry for us." He remarks dryly. In his minds-eye he can imagine just how easily he could crush the boat in two with just one tentacle.
"Luckily neither of us is likely to drown should she go down."
the lullaby
Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Ronin releases the inside of his cheek only when he begins to taste copper, heaving a sigh and rolling his shoulders, forcing them to relax. Change, he realises, is something he now finds daunting in a way they would have both previously rolled with in wartime. And gods, if that isn't precisely the point. Their peace has been hard-won, and even though they aren't giving it up now, even though they chose to do this together, gods but it feels like it.
Turning, Ronin reaches out to snag an arm around Remi's waist, as if needing him to be the life-raft against the turbulent waves of his emotions. "First step is to rename it, either way," he says, the words murmured against his husband's unruly curls where he has buried his nose. "I'm not setting a foot on board until it's not The Itchy Pussy." Scrunching his nose, he turns only at the sight of a few approaching dock workers.
With them they bring the supplies Ronin had ordered; things to sand and clean and patch, paint and waterproofing, and most importantly liquor to make the process go more smoothly.
Let's not get lost in the dark blue But darling if we do, just find me and I'll find you
Taking a clumsy step sideways but not minding at all the way he bumped gently into Ronin, Remi mirrored the gesture by slipping his own arm around the Nova's waist. Despite all that they had accomplished, to anyone looking on the pair probably looked like two newly-wed idiots, able to only afford the most meager of house(boats). For all of that, though, Remi doubted if either of them would have felt any more comfortable in a lofty mansion with far too many vacant rooms.
"Well, I named the last one." Remi points out with a grin, as if this absolved him from having to help thing up something appropriately witty and suggestive (this was Torchline after all).
Watching the workers bring what they'd need to remove the itch from this particular pussy, Remi offers them a smile which is only nervously returned. Grumbling under his breath, he turns his attention back to the boat.
"The..." On the spot, Remi's mind had suddenly gone blank. "..silver..tongue?"
the lullaby
Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Grumbling right back - because fuck it, Remi is right, and he did name the last one - Ronin spends his time glaring at looking over their new home and offering a distracted wave to the workers who drop off all their supplies and equipment. "My tongue doesn't feel so silver at the moment," he admits with a smirk, pressing a kiss to Remi's curls and letting out a long sigh.
"Fishful Thinking. Codfather. The I. M. Floundering," he drawls, choosing to rattle off as many obvious puns as possible as if to get them out of his system, before extracting himself from his husband to grab up some of the supplies to start cleaning, sanding and waterproofing.
"You know, I'm tempted by The Northaven," he admits with a sudden, cheeky grin. "Bit of a throwback, right?"
Let's not get lost in the dark blue But darling if we do, just find me and I'll find you
"The copper tongue, then." The alchemist suggests under his breath. It's a strange thing to be able to smell his husband's blood on the air as much as he's able to feel the thin strands of copper through their bond, but Remi has had a predator lurking in his bones for longer than not.
" I am Floundering." Snorting, Remi grins and shakes his head. "No one would believe it. They would think it some sort of trap." Like when kangaroos appeared in lakes only to drown anyone who came in to save them.
Opting to stare begrudgingly at the boat a little longer, it's with a sharp turn that he stares at Ronin over his shoulder, unable to decide if he loved or hated the idea. "The beaches of Northaven is where we first met." He says softly, as if inching toward the idea. "Did that sea have a name? Or was it just...the Northaven Sea?" Years between as well as having his memories stirred up like soup had made many of the details of his (their) past hazy in his mind.
the lullaby
Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
If Ronin had been more predatory (and if it had been later in the year, he might have been) he'd have bared his bloody teeth at his husband for good measure. Alas, he and his copper tongue gather up the equipment and stand beside the Lullaby once more, even if his projection is already stepping away to continue to help.
"It would be a trap," he says in their defence. "I don't care if we're not in the Cordillera any more - if anyone comes aboard uninvited who aren't family or friends, I'll be ruining their day." And that's even before Remi gets to them. Feeling more inclined to step aboard their vessel now that its original name is already being twisted and changed, he offers Remi a gentle nudge.
"You know, I really can't remember," he admits. "It's been so long since then. But I remember the beaches. I remember you." Winking, he finally gestures for them to hop aboard. "The Northaven?"
Let's not get lost in the dark blue But darling if we do, just find me and I'll find you
"I love it when you say things like that." Remi purrs as if Ronin had been waxing lyrical about their love rather than threatening the lives of anyone who bothered the Lullaby without permission. (Honestly, for Remi, those might as well have been the same).
Finding his cheeks suddenly quite warm despite the years between that moment and now—not to mention the ways in which they'd enjoyed each other since then—the memory of Ronin striding from the water never failed to steal away the Lullaby's breath. "I am not even sure Ludo could pry that memory away from me." Biting at the inside of his lip to keep his mouth from suggesting that they put off the refurbishment of their new home, Remi takes in a deep lungful of sea air and exhales slowly.
"The Northaven." Grinning suddenly, Remi gives his head a lopsided shake. "Just imagine the likes of Bellamy and the rest of them, if only they knew." Not only was a Blueblood married to a commoner, but being openly gay? "Gods, fuck them." Remi sighed blissfully, before turning and reaching for a block of sandpaper.
"I bet Mateo would have some suggestions of plants that could happily live on a boat like this."
the lullaby
Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
"Careful, or I'll start bringing hostages aboard for you to shout at, like a cat bringing home presents," Ronin says through a laugh. He's busy gathering his own sandpaper block - and a chisel, and a plane for shaving wood - but not busy enough not to notice the pink flush to Remi's cheeks (even beneath the beard) or the misty cadence to his feelings.
"I'd rather fuck you," he purrs, clambering aboard and blowing the Lullaby a kiss. "But unfortunately, we'll need to fix this place up before we christen it." Both Ronins don a shit-eating grin before getting promptly to work. (Incentive, am I right?) One sands and cleans up the exterior of the little boat - the other sweeps away debris and clears out any leftover trash, preparing the area for oil and varnish and paint.
"Honestly," he says of Mateo, "we'll probably need the plants to keep half of this standing." It's cheerfully said now that they're getting into it. And with demigod strength and endurance to fall back on, the work is done swiftly enough to have even the most skilled carpenter green with envy.
Let's not get lost in the dark blue But darling if we do, just find me and I'll find you
Raising his eyebrows in order to look more like Michael Scott say go on entirely innocent, the Lullaby pops out his lower lip. "To yell at?" He wonders, smirking slightly before the smile falls from his lips as they part. "Gods, Ronin." Remi says, sounding almost pained as he sips in a stilted breath. Grabbing at the Nova's shirt a touch roughly if only so that he could decide when their kiss ended, eventually the Lullaby relents, releasing his husband with a weary sigh. "If ever anyone says that I do not show restraint..." Remi grumbles under his breath, turning away to hide his grin and to subtly adjust the front of his pants.
Though Remi could duplicate himself as well, he opted instead to sand the hull with all of his tentacles as well as his hands. "Mmmmm." Peeling off a rotten board, he waggles it toward Ronin in agreement. "At least vines do not rust." He adds, picking out a few nails that had certainly seen better days with one tentacle and depositing them into a pile on the dock.
the lullaby
Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
"Let me dream," Ronin says, of Remi only yelling at the strangers he brings on board. And as for the restraint his husband is showing, he might argue that the frustration is coming out in other ways - hello to all the tentacles - but instead he opts to hide his grin and keep working.
His projection, at least, is bold enough to sneak a smooch from Remi's cheeks as it swans past, collecting up the nails and stacking some fresh planks of wood to replace the rotten boards.
"That's true enough. In fact, they might get stronger from all the salt water," Ronin agrees with a chuckle. They work like this in companionable silence for longer than the Nova can rightly say, and it's only when he's thirsty enough to uncork a bottle of liquor that he pauses for a break.
"Mmm?" he gestures to the bottle around a mouthful of whisky, wincing at the bite before offering it out to Remi. "You and I should have been boat-makers," he adds, pleased with their progress so far. "Reckon we can get started on the inside before the sun goes down?"
Let's not get lost in the dark blue But darling if we do, just find me and I'll find you
"Dreams are exclusively in my jurisdiction, you will remember." Swatting playfully at the projection and only threatening the sort of violence that would render him useless, Remi returns his focus back to the boards in order to temper his strength lest he sand all the way through the hull. Humming various tunes that one will start and the other will pick up and carry along, Remi is nearly done scrabbing off the entire top layer of the boat when he hears the telltale pop! of a bottle being opened.
"Mmm." Remi agrees, reaching for the bottle and taking the sort of swig that suggests he hasn't taken Ronin's wince as a warning. Coughing a touch and covering his mouth with the back of his hand, the Lullaby glances toward the horizon and tilts his head thoughtfully. "Well, I am not feeling particularly tired, so I do not see why not. We may need to pick her up from the water and bring her onto the sands if we do not want to risk the waves." So saying Remi looked back toward the ocean where whiter and whiter waves were starting to develop.
"I never remember it being quite like this during Flowerbirth. Not since Safrin protected the shores against the monsoons, anyway."
the lullaby
Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
"Exclusively?" Ronin grins, knowing well their varied prowess in the dreamworld, albeit in different aspects. He leaves that hanging so he can continue to work on The Northaven, ensuring her exterior at the very least is in ship shape. Looking all too self-satisfied as his husband finds out for himself how strong the liquor in Torchline can be (or, more rightly, is reminded of that fact), Ronin mosies on over to the paint and hunkers down.
"That's a good point," he agrees about the waves. "We can probably sand and paint her hull if we bring her ashore too." As for the turbulence in the weather, he wrinkles his nose out towards the white-caps. "I wonder if it has anything to do with all the other weird shit going on," he mutters. "Like what Deimos mentioned?"
Let's not get lost in the dark blue But darling if we do, just find me and I'll find you
"Exclusively." Remi agrees, closing his eyes and nodding with the sort of sagacity that invited no further argument on the subject.
Handing the bottle back to Ronin after taking a much more restrained sip of it, the Lullaby can only shrug. "Anywhere else I would say they had to be related, but here?" Not just Torchline, but Caido? Raising his eyebrows doubtfully, he gives his head a little shake before stepping back to properly appraise the houseboat.
"Our duplicates can probably hold her up while we paint the hull." He suggests, already having tugged his attention away from world-ending possibilities and back to much more manageable things. "I suppose we won't even need sails or anything, not if we add some sort of handle on the bottom so that we can just tow her around." Either as men or monsters, depending on how deep the water was.
the lullaby
Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
