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!
Like a game of cat and mouse, he corners her and she slinks away just enough to keep that reverberating heat between them without touch, even as she harbors the entirety of his focus enough to not notice the dull thud of some of the trinkets on the table falling below. Those certainly aren’t his problem, not when he’s alight with the idea of her, his deep voice thrumming a whisper to her ear that’s met with her own.
A nearly imperceptible shiver runs down Pierce’s spine as her mouth quite nearly brushes against his ear, a quite low rumble of a hum that purrs through him to feel the sharp edge of a fang of hers drag along his earlobe. Her words only serve to bring more of that shiver, the goosebumps, the anticipation he can taste on his tongue as he straightens a fraction, large and almost impossibly warm hands lift to the hood she wears, tugging it down to reveal the rest of her dark curls, the horns that sprout, and he tempts with himself on whether he wants to continue to touch rather than devour.
He'd like to do both, truth be told, but Pierce can be patient when needed, and this is quite a fun little game, so he does decide to touch, sinking his fingers into her dark curls to brush them back, hoping to expose her neck a bit more that he might taunt and tease her with his hot breath, the faint brush of his lips, the sharp tease of his teeth.
(Feel free to fade them at any point if you’d like!)
As her words hang in the air between them, she is hyperaware of his every move. Any doubts about his intentions have long since vanished with the distance between them. When his hands reach up, Thal is disappointed that they aren't immediately placed on her skin. She watches his eyes closely, biting her lip in excitement. Their blue depths reflect the powerful unexplored leagues of ocean that call to her. Each new section bringing opportunity for glory, significant discoveries, and dangerous interactions. This felt similar in every way. And it exhilarated her to the core.
Despite still being fully clothed, the removing of her hood feels as if she has been stripped naked before him. Thal welcomes the heat in his gaze and touch, letting her eyes roll slightly as she imagines more. The brush of his hand is finally making contact with her, although she craves more. She leans her head back into his grasp, letting his hand cradle her skull, exposing more of the pulsing veins of her neck, indicative of her desire for more.
Not one to beg, Thal turns her eyes to his. A simultaneous challenge and demand stand in her eyes. No questions. All uncertainty gone. Just a dare to fulfill every fantasy and expectation occupying her mind.
There is the air of threat and pinpoint accuracy that Pierce can offer her, to allow her to indulge in her deepest darkest fantasies. Something that the brawler seems to have zero problem in fulfilling. In fact, if he were to say that he craved it, it wouldn’t be a lie. The way that he slips her hood off, the way that his almost too warm hand brushes against her skin, touching and exploring the fine tresses he finds and the curves of her horns, meeting her gaze with that determined look and demand.
Demand that he provides, where he does indulge her every wish and whim, content to devour and claim as much as he can from the pirate captain.
And when it’s done and they’re both breathless, Pierce doesn’t entirely withdraw from her – instead he keeps his corded arms braced on the table, giving her just enough space to slip out of reach without stopping her or blocking her, but simply indulging in the radiated heat between them.
Thal's limbs tremble slightly as she settles back against the table. Her breaths are coming quick and shallow, heartbeats rapidly pound against her chest, and thoughts comfortably escape her mind. She takes a moment to let her eyelids flutter closed. Stars speckle the darkness as she relishes in the comfortable pleasure of her body.
Sweat accumulates on her neck, whether from his body heat or the exertion, she can't tell. She doesn't mind as her nerves continue to tingle lightly with the echo of his hands. Each moment seared into her skin.
Her pride refuses to let her admit that he has met - and possibly exceeded - her expectations, but the symptoms are visible. As she opens her eyes again, tousled brown curls frame the vision of his form braced around her. Confident in her disheveled appearance, Thal pulls her lips into a grin and leans towards him again. "Now that was a good distraction." She lets her haughty breath occupy the limited space between them. Although their fun has taken the edge off, she still finds herself drawn to the strength in his eyes. The potency of their blue coloring promises a deep pool of thrills and mysteries that she wants to explore.
Thal uses her arms to lift her hips onto the table, content to lounge in the heat of this man's close proximity. She reaches for one of the discarded trinkets nearby, snagging a silver ring with a set of alternating blue sapphires and black diamonds. Bringing it up to her face, she looks through the opening at his striking features in curiosity. "How did you find this place?" The thought that he might bring other women here crosses her mind, but she isn't the jealous or insecure type. Even if others had been here, none of them were her. So she focuses on enjoying the experience her way. "Are there other activities we can do here?"
Its evident in Pierce’s own flushed skin just how much he enjoyed this, even as his blue gaze remains heavy lidded, viewing her as he keeps his arms braced around her, trying to determine just what she intended to come next. “I have to agree.” That deep tone rumbles out of him again, before he finally regains enough of his composure, fixing his clothes a bit, running a hand through his own tousled curls.
His gaze returns to her as she settles more fully onto the table, Pierce trying to temper the grin that forms. “It’s where all the smugglers keep their trinkets.” He informs her, stepping back toward the table to pick up a trinket of his own — a pale gemstone set in a silver chain, half attached to a gold goblet that had only been revealed when they’d knocked it over in their activities.
He straightens a little as he lifts the gem to brush off the dust on his shirt, humming under his breath in thought. “It’s a maze of caves with the threat of getting flooded in when the tide comes in.” He keeps his tone low but it still seems to echo in the small cavern. “So, I would have to say it depends on the tide.” He smirks, looking back at her as he pockets the pale gem.
Watching him straighten his clothes should tempt her to do the same, but Thal is content to let the skew of her clothing be a reminder of their recent fun, even allowing her discarded cloak to drape the table and her open blouse to hang off her pale shoulder. The only adjustment she makes is to stroke her hand through her dark curls, allowing her a better look of the man before her and maybe giving him a better visual of her.
Even sitting fully on the table, she doesn't come close to his height, so she has to look up as he smirks. Thal slides the overly large ring onto her thumb as she listens to his words, but there isn't an answer to her exact question. Knowing what the caves are does little to explain how he found them. Is he a smuggler? Does he have connections with smugglers? Is he just "lucky"? She chooses to ignore the other questions, instead raising her eyebrow in a knowing look before following his lead. "I see. Did they smuggle anything other than trinkets? I would kill for some alcohol or another way to quench my thirst." Her tongue ran over her lips in emphasis, remaining slightly open with a light chuckle and a conspiratorial smile. Another callback to their activities with an invitation for more excitement.
He is still close enough for her to feel the hum of his voice as he continues to explain the caves. She has little interest in their structure, however, she finds herself making excuses to hear more of his voice. So she keeps talking. "Does that mean there's a chance we could get trapped down here?" Her words hold more weight than she originally expected as she realizes that he could easily have planned such an event, but she pushes the thoughts aside and plays into the coy exchange, leaning forward again mischievously. "And what do you think the tide will do tonight?" The immediate danger of his presence seems to have dissipated although she keeps the knowledge close.
She does continue to provide the most delectable view, something his heavy lidded steel continues to survey her as her clothes remain to hang off of her shoulder. It’s calculating again, not that it had entirely left, but Pierce had certainly been distracted prior to that his gaze had softened for that brief moment.
It’s a conscious reason that he doesn’t tell her how he found them. Once again like a cat and mouse, and as she requests something to drink, he prowls around the edge of the table toward a barrel in the back of their little offshoot. His strong muscles flex as he pops the lid off, reaching in and grabs a bottle of some aged liquor, returning and popping the cap off to hand it to her. “What kind of pirates don’t also smuggle liquor?” He teases, a dark brow rising as he braces in front of her again.
“And yes. There is a chance.” As for what the tide could do? A soft snort leaves him. “There’s also a chance we could drown.” He nearly purrs, his lips quirking back into that smirk, head tilting slightly. “What a thrill.” He says it in a sigh of dramatics, that deep baritone rumbling only for her ears.
His gaze traces along the edges of her skin and finally lift to her face, a dark curl hanging over one of his eyes. “I get this distinct feeling that you like thrills.” Why else would she be there with him?
Her eyes never leave his as they regain their smooth roguish glint. Even as he prowls to the barrel in the corner, the blue of his gaze lingers in her mind. She watches as each muscle of his arms bulge, although he still opens the barrel effortlessly. That doesn't mean it's any less satisfying to observe his unparalleled strength.
When he returns with a dusty bottle of amber liquor, she grins and accepts the bottle. "What kind indeed?" Thal takes a large swig from the bottle, letting a dare settle in her gaze before offering it back to him. The burn of the alcohol warms her throat as its acidic smell mixes with the dust.
At the prospect of drowning, Thal waves her hand flippantly and laughs. "Choking doesn't scare me." She meets his smirk with one of her own and bends forward when she lowers her voice to an airy whisper. "Not much does."
The depth of his voice mixes with the liquor. Her insides heat further and a buzz of excitement fills her head. Thal plays along with his dramatics, sighing loudly. "What fun would life be without danger?" Looking at the curl dangling down his face, the man appears more menacing with a single eye partially obscured. She gives him a sharp fanged grin. "Wouldn't you agree?"
There’s a knowing glint to the bright blue of his eyes, amusement clear in his gaze as she agrees with him. Pierce can’t help the way his gaze lingers on her as she takes a sip of the bottle, still completely in her space. But as she offers the bottle to him, who is he to object – taking it easily from her to lift to his lips, taking a deep swig of it himself, lowering the bottle thereafter to grant her a wolfish grin as she leans in.
“I like you.” Pierce says rather abruptly, some amount of potential in perhaps sticking around to see just how much she wished to offer him – after all, he’s only sticking around Torchline for so long, sampling what he wanted, before he would need to venture off to connect with Dorian to see what else they needed to do.
As it stands now, her loud sigh of dramatics in addition to his, has a deep baritone laugh rolling through him, meeting her head on with that one curl blotting out half of his vision. “Oh, entirely.” Pierce agrees without a second thought, the hand not holding the bottle lifts to brush the back of his knuckles against the hollow of her throat, his attention dropping from her face briefly to watch. “Why else would we be here without that predilection toward danger?” His gaze snaps up to her face, Pierce’s hand opening to caress the side of her throat.
03-03-2024, 10:53 PM (This post was last modified: 03-05-2024, 11:54 PM by Thalassa.)
Thalassa
A smooth sea never made a skilled sailor.
She watches the bob of his throat as the bottle touches his lips. His following grin has her giddy with anticipation of the possibilities they could have together. What sort of chaos could they make together? Just the prospect excites her.
"I like you." The words echo in her ears, shocking her enough to elicit a genuine laugh. No ulterior motives of teasing or tempting, it escapes freely. She has yet to understand this stranger and his intentions, but she has enjoyed each moment so far. Reaching her hand forward to run it down his chest, taking her time, she purrs softly. "What is there not to like?" Thal is half tempted to say the words back to him but chooses to playfully withhold them. As a consolation, she gives him a teasing smirk that practically screams them back.
His deep laugh reverberates within the stone walls, each note landing comfortable around her. When the back of his knuckles stroke her neck, Thal's breath hitches imperceptibly. She swallows at the touch and her lips part inaudibly. The intensity with which he looks at her vulnerable throat has a moan itching to break free but she contains the urge and waits, watching.
As his piercing blue eyes once again meet hers and his hand gently holds the rapid beat of her heart, Thal bites her lip with a single fang to find her voice. "I was bored." It was both an admission and another challenge. The power of his position should signal her to run or pull back. His muscular arm bracketing her hips, his solid torso leaning in, and his large hand around her fragile neck. She should be afraid... But Thal doesn't like fear. She presses her throat into his hand, grinning up at him to expose her neck further.
Her genuine laugh sparks a glimmer of amusement from the ways it rings off of the walls of their offshoot. He relishes in the touch she offers, leaning into it not unlike a cat curling toward the touch. As for the comment, all Pierce can do is flash that wolfish smirk back, a bit of verbal conversation alongside the things unsaid.
That, and touch, Pierce supposes. Especially as he runs his knuckles along her neck, then expands his hand to cradle the side of her throat, the way that it’s both threatening and satisfying.
“As was I.” Pierce practically purrs, letting his hand lift from her neck to cup her jaw and cheek, fingers threading through her dark curls. “Are you now?” He asks, leaning closer, enough to nearly ghost a kiss against her lips, before he withdraws with another brief tease.
His agreement with her statement has her smile widening. What a coincidence that they both happened to be "bored." When his hand moves up towards her face, Thal narrows her eyes slightly in annoyance. The feeling of his fingers through her hair is comfortable but she doesn't want comfortable. Despite her impatience, the searing heat of his palm is enough to placate her for the moment.
"Not particularly." His approaching lips make her want to meet them with her own. She barely feels the warmth of his breath before he pulls away. Thal is tempted to pout but refuses to give him the satisfaction. Instead, she turns her head slowly to place the soft pink of her lips against the inside of his wrist. Not quite a kiss, just a hint of intimacy. "Are you?" The look in her eyes is a dare for him to lie to her face.
He’s quite attentive to the way her eyes narrow – as if craving more than just the touch of his hand through her hair. It’s something Pierce can change, but the taunt and attempt to see if anything changes is one that has him toying with it. Playing with proverbial fire to see how much he can get away with, without giving her what she wants right this second.
It’s a game he continues when he asks her if she’s bored, the ghosting of his lips against hers so incredibly taunting that the smirk blooms when she takes matters into her own hands, the softness of her lips against the inside of his wrist. “Not right this second.” He purrs that deep baritone, precisely before his fingers twist in the dark curls and tug.
A few seconds later, there’s the sound of trickling water in the distance, as if right on cue when it came to the potential of drowning in the caverns. This one, though, seemed a little higher in elevation – a perk perhaps that would prevent such a fate. Even still, Pierce seems entirely unbothered as he scans her face, awaiting a reaction. “I think I might just press my luck.”
The purr of his response is a satisfactory answer to her ears and pleasant sound to enjoy. At the same instant, Thal feels his fingers curl into her hair. His strong tug has her head tilting back delightfully. Maintaining strong eye contact, she flashes him a cheeky grin. Her legs cross comfortably and she leans back onto her hands against the table. The relaxed body language is meant to be a gesture of consent and a veiled challenge to do his worst.
Even as the sound of water trickles through the tunnels, Thal keeps her expression unconcerned. As if her hair isn't be pulled, she makes a show of assessing him, letting his image seer into her brain. It seems to her like the water would be the least of her worries, but she can't seem to find a care. Instead, she is drawn to the flame like a moth, cognizant of the danger but blinded by the tempting light. Luckily, Thal is resistant to flames and she always mistakes danger for fun.
Still reclining under his dominating position, she lifts an eyebrow at his comment. "You didn't strike me as someone who relies on luck." Her hand raises to clasp his to her head, finally acknowledging it. "Luck is just an excuse for those who can't ensure success." The test hangs in the air. If he is as strong and capable as she has ascertained, he would have no issue continuing their fun until the precise moment that escape seemed slim. However, she is also assessing his value of her. Would he keep her alive and prove her observations right or attempt to discard her in the tunnels after getting his fill? Despite her body being at ease, Thal's mind is scrutinizing his every moment, waiting for him to confirm her theories.
