From Attuned to Ascended to Ancient, Kiada Njovu-Reyes has been reborn several times throughout her short life, but her fighting spirit has never once been diminished. With beauty, grace and a quick wit, Kiada is the whole package wrapped in an infectious smile. Recent endeavours have found her in the heart of the Hollowed Grounds, aiding the region and bettering it for her new Ancient kin, and whatever she does next, we know it's sure to pack a punch.
Congratulations, Kiada!
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!
Once upon a time, Isla had been planning to live out here on Metacarpal Island. It had been a laughable decision rooted in the idea that she'd be alone forever, and given her proclivities as an Ancient, it hadn't seemed all that bad a plan. Of course, times change, and with Remi's reintroduction into her life, the Remedy's future has taken a decidedly more positive turn. But that doesn't mean the island isn't still useful.
When ramphire grow too canny and she needs to take a break from hunting them, there's always something worth preying on out on the bone-white isle, not to mention the most curious and carnivorous flora that Isla has ever seen. She's sated her bloodlust already and is on her way back to the beach where she's dragged her little boat onto the sand, the sun warm enough to leave her shoulders bare, though she's shading her eyes with one hand as she hops over a few bones protruding from the shore.
// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //
What a trek it had been to get here, honestly. Not only was he still recovering, but he’d gone to retrieve a gift, get himself put mostly back together, feeling leagues better than he had a few days ago, when he reaches her door only to hear that she’s gone out for the day. After asking around a bit more, the direction is clear, and the second Astaroth arrives on the beach he realizes it is not walking distance so much as it is boating distance.
The gentleman in him can’t simply leave it be, though, and so with some charming little comments, he’s mercifully garnered some amount of pity from one of the locals to take him over on his boat, imagining that Isla likely had her own out here.
He’s proven right as he spies the boat and waves away the other crew that had taken him over, stepping through the sand and over protruding bones toward her as she reaches her own boat. “Isla, darling, it was an adventure to find you.” He says, only a hint out of breath as he draws up – no coat in sight at the moment, but a bag in his arms and a nice buttoned up shirt where the stitches and bandages can only be seen in brief flashes of movement. “What a wonderfully awful place you’ve slipped away to.” He teases her lightly, but leaves enough space for her to welcome him in should she wish to.
Part of him doesn’t blame her if she does turn away, given how much he’s come to her for her skills and nothing else, despite the promise he’d do better. It’s what brings him today, after all.
Astaroth
// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //
Having been focused (read: daydreaming) about a species of carnivorous flower she'd come across and what properties it might have if applied the right way, Astaroth successfully takes Isla by surprise. The sound of his voice has her glancing up sharply, blinking in the afternoon sunshine, only for a warm smile to light up her face. "Hello, Astaroth," she calls. "I didn't expect to see anyone else out here today."
It isn't like the Metacarpal Island is popular, after all.
But of course, then she catches the real meaning behind his words, even as she draws in close and leans up to press a kiss hello to his cheek. "You came here looking for me? Is everything alright?" The smile remains, but it's with a practiced eye that she glances over him, lingering on his arm and shoulder where she knows there are still stitches.
"I expected you to have gone back to the Grounds by now," she admits, only to glance back at the island at her back with a darker smirk. "It's good hunting out here," she says, "if you know where to look."
// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //
He doesn’t mean to startle her, but gods if he isn’t out of breath and trying to catch her before she abandons him on this island that seems very much his style just from what he can see already. He flashes her a bright and sharp toothed grin in response, though, at the mention of not expecting to see anyone else – because here he is, in the flesh, with goodies despite the nightmare it took him to get here.
His welcome is received, though, evident by the gentle kiss to his cheek that he dips down to meet her with, allowing her to look him over to see that there is in fact no blood, and the stitches that are visible are taken care of perfectly. “Everything is fine, my dear. I simply wanted to see you before I went back home.” Shifting the bag slightly in front of him so she can see it, he listens as she speaks and he clings to the information offered as he searches for the gift.
“It looks as though it would be.” Asta hums contently, pausing to glance around the island before his gaze returns to her a touch triumphantly as he pulls the box out from the bag and hands it to her. “I imagine you know the perfect locations for such endeavors?” He asks as he waits for her to open the gift – a beautiful, summery set of porcelain adorned in yellows and teals and pinks, along with another box he withdraws full of a unique blend of tea he’s yet to try.
Astaroth
// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //
Asta certainly looks better than the previous time she'd laid eyes on him, Isla feeling herself relax already even before he gives his confirmation. For a woman who spends all day every day seeing people at their worst, it's certainly refreshing - and a relief, in truth - to see them doing well, and she steps back with a sunny smile up at him. "You didn't have to chase me around Torchline. I would have been back before sunset," she says with a gentle laugh, "though I do appreciate the enthusiasm."
Tilting her head at the box he withdraws, Isla is already shooting him a withering, affectionate sort of look - one that says you don't need to get me gifts for doing my job whilst simultaneously cherishing them more than he'll ever know. As the tea set is revealed her pebble blues grow wide with delight, and she nods absently, though all thoughts of the island and its prey are understandably forgotten.
"Asta, this is beautiful. Thank you," she trills, glancing back up at him and laughing to see that he's also brought tea for them to sample. "I have a canteen of water and a blanket in the boat," she says with a grin. "Can I interest you in trying this with me?"
// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //
Mentally, the butcher isn’t entirely back to normal. Physically, though? He looks as though everything is as close to perfect as can be, despite the stitches that keep his arm and collarbone tight. And since then, they have been well maintained by him, enough that he doesn’t have too much pain while doing the day to day. It’s the soreness that gets him, one that he hides behind that traditional, comfortable smile.
“I intended on departing late this evening, and I am not wholly aware of your schedule.” He hums lightly in response, sharp grin twitching into a far more amused one. He waits for the light chastising from her regarding his payments, but when she says nothing and instead takes the gift, he inclines his head and his smile twists a bit more mischievous.
Leaning back up to his full height, he nods to her. “I thought you would never ask.” Comes the playful tease as he maneuvers to collect the blanket and canteen from the boat, giving her time to pick the perfect location amongst the shore as well as leaving her with the box of a unique tea blend that Asta had picked specifically because he hasn’t tried one like it before. Settling and drawing his long spider like legs beneath him, Astaroth pulls his gifted matchbook from his pocket to strike it and guide the flame to the small made up bundle of sticks to light the flame, leaving Isla to manage the tea. “Supposedly it is a green tea with raspberry and light mint.” He muses, dark gaze lifting toward her to see her opinions on such a blend.
Astaroth
// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //
"Well, if nothing else, at least your trek to find me has introduced you to this wonderful, absolutely safe island," Isla says with a wry smile, because it doesn't take much to notice the bones, the crimson foliage, the way everything seems hungry for everything else. All in all, a perfect spot for afternoon tea for two Ancients, right?
Accepting the teaset and the box of tea leaves, Isla does indeed find a spot on the white sands where things are less likely to try and eat their toes, gesturing for Asta to spread out the blanket and using a couple of rocks and a bit of driftwood to pin it down against the sea breeze. "Thank you," she trills as he manages the fire, settling beside him to get out the teapot and the two cups and saucers.
"That sounds delightful," she says, taking a moment to smell the leaves and seeming impressed, offering the box out for him to sample as well. "They must have gotten the raspberries from King's End. We don't get them here in Torchline," she adds.
Waiting for the water to boil, Isla leans back on her hands to enjoy the sunshine. "Did you stay behind in Torchline just to find me?" she asks, assuming Danta would have flown on ahead.
// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //
“That I have.” Astaroth quips back, gaining the jest of the island not being safe, but not caring in the slightest about it for the moment. The foliage, the bones, the menacing nature of it? It added to an otherwise dull day of running around, truly becoming the crimson cherry on top.
She finds a spot and settles as Asta returns with everything else, laying out the blanket and getting the fire ready, slipping that matchbook into his pocket shortly after before helping however else Isla needs it when it comes to setting up the tea. “You’re quite welcome.”
Leaving her to admire the tea as he explains it and watching her face for a reaction, Astaroth nods. “It did say it was imported.” He begins to fold up his sleeves a bit, gingerly along the stitched up wound. “And yes, I did. I also intended on finding a new shirt to replace the other one. Which I did in fact manage to get.” In which he had succeeded, at least, but he has been gone longer than anticipated and he’s unsure entirely how Danta will take it when he does return.
It partially makes him want to prolong the inevitable even further.
Astaroth
// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //
"I'm glad to hear it," Isla says of his new shirt, smiling and peering across at the water to check its progress. "And you are too kind, you didn't have to do that." Stay behind on her behalf, she means, though it's already done now and she's hardly complaining based on the gifts he's brought.
Settling back and leaning on her hands to watch the waves roll against the bone white shore, of course the Remedy can't not let her gaze flick occasionally to where she knows her own handiwork sits against Asta's skin, but no part of his injuries look inflamed or infected from where she's sitting, so she's happy not to comment. Instead, once the water has started to boil, she sits up and holds out the teapot for the tall Ancient to pour it in.
"I don't think I've ever stopped for tea on this island," she remarks with a smirk. "I have to say, it's actually quite pleasant. And the company isn't bad either."
// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //
Chuckling at her response, Asta inclines his head in a knowing look, and while he could tell her just how much he’s not looking forward to more of Danta’s needling, he opts instead for his own personal vendettas. “My conscience simply wouldn’t let me leave without seeing you.” He pauses to flash her a particularly toothy smile. “I do not wish for every time we get together to be because I require your services.” And it was true, and so far he hadn’t been able to prevent that.
But maybe next time?
Pouring in the tea for it to begin brewing, Astaroth stretches out one leg from beneath him, tilting his head toward her as he goes to settle again, snorting a little sound. “Oh, darling, the company is impeccable.” He winks to her, shifting to sit back a little more, braced on an elbow. “Are there any other little treasure troves like this within Caido?” He asks, reaching out to run his fingers along sun bleached bone sticking out from the sands.
Astaroth
// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //
"Oh, come now," Isla says airily, smiling across at Asta and setting the teapot down so it might brew in peace. "We had our dance at the Hollowed Grounds, and that first meeting where we went shopping." They're about half and half, in truth, with his visits being of a business nature compared to a friendly get together. "Not that I'm at all complaining. I'd just come out here to hunt."
And she'd been successful too, if it isn't obvious by her relaxed state. As for Metacarpal Island, she nods to him eagerly; intellectual as much as she might be a duchess, Isla has found herself quite well travelled in recent times. "There's the Hanging Tree in the Feverlands," she explains. "It's rumoured to have been the site of many executions. The branches are covered in thick rope, and the bark bleeds red if you strike it."
Casting her mind back, she's sure there are other places, too. "It's not as morbid, but there's also The Last Step in King's End. There's a lot of myth surrounding that whole region, in fact. Nothing as overt as an island made of bones, though."
// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //
Snorting, Asta nods and his lips quirk into an amused smile, realizing that it was in fact, half and half. At least he has a starting point to push it in a more friendly rather than professional relation, something the butcher fully intends on doing after finding someone that understands human anatomy and the finery of things in life. Conversations with the Remedy were vastly different from that of Danta and others he’d met, and with it a breath of fresh air. “And you succeeded.” As evidenced by her relaxed nature, content to indulge a man with tea on an island made up of bones.
He listens diligently as she lists out other options of places just as dreadfully intriguing as this one, making mental notes to visit (even if his smile twists a bit sharper at the idea of the hanging tree that bleeds). “I will make it a point to visit.” He muses, already letting it distract him from what he’s sure awaits him when he returns home.
“Many of these places weren’t here when I was last awake.” He withdraws his fingertips from the bleached bone, shifting to collect their cups and the other goodies brought to sweeten the tea. “Though, there had been a great yawning gap that had mists within it that supposedly lured people in by mimicking loved ones' voices.” The recollection of where isn’t good, given his lack of geography skills. “I believe it was a sea panther that had set up quite a brilliant trap.” But alas, he never did find out what it truly was.
Astaroth
// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //
"I did indeed," Isla agrees with a gentle nod of her head. Unlike the Maverick, she does prefer to hunt in her shifts, not just because it's a great deal easier with claws and teeth, but it also keeps her outfits from getting too bloody. (Best of both worlds, and all that). "Be careful of the Feverlands these days, though," she warns, frowning softly and checking the pot of tea. "It's been overtaken by those void creatures."
Lifting the teapot once she's satisfied that the leaves have brewed for long enough, Isla shifts to pour them both a cup, smiling at the scent of raspberry and mint that fills the air. His tale has her eyes widening a bit, though, and as she sets the pot back down, it's with a mix of curiosity and awe. "I think something similar happened out here in Torchline a few years ago," she says. "It took quite a few people to take the panther down."
Still, there doesn't seem to be anything like that out here today, at least, and she lifts her cup in a little mock cheers. "Thank you for tea on the beach," she says, before taking a slow sip.
// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //
The mention of void creatures immediately has Asta’s nose wrinkling in a hint of annoyance, pushed away by the prospect of tea. “Mm, unfortunate.” He drawls with a small sigh, sitting up so that his cup can be filled without spilling everywhere. And with it, and his cup fully filled with the hot tea, he takes a moment to indulge in the raspberry and mint.
It soothes any other thoughts of void creatures and his failures, however, as he cradles it in his hands and tilts his head toward her at the mention of a sea panther here in Torchline. “They are formidable creatures. I have never seen one, but I have heard plenty of stories regarding them.” Flashing her a sharp grin and toasting along with her, he takes a sip of it while it still steams, and had they not been Ancients here on the beach, he likely would have just burned the shit out of his throat.
Luckily for him, though, he doesn’t, and its with a satisfied hum that his tail flicks comfortably like a satisfied feline as his dark gaze focuses on her, made lighter by the sun, akin to a rich bottle of honey. “You’re quite welcome, darling.” And he cocks his head. “Thank you for taking care of me time and time again.”
Astaroth
// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //
