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!
”Trying isn’t a guarantee. It’s a gamble with nature each time.” she said with a small smile his direction. ”Trust me on that one. I am a midwife. Conception and birth and babies are my specialty. But I think you would be a good father, so I think it is a bit of a shame you are so against it.” she reminded. There were of course a variety of ways one could attempt to prevent pregnancy, but none were completely effective.
His words don’t comfort her though. If anything they made her feel worse, her already unsettled stomach tying in knots and flipping over. These were not confirmations she wanted to hear. She did not want to be enough, to have made him happy, and still have lost him. It was so much worse. But they were things he couldn’t take back now that they were said, and she had the burden of dealing with them. ”So, you chose her over me…because it is easier than allowing yourself to be vulnerable with someone again?” she said, brow furrowing.
”Be honest Jata, if she and I knew you exactly the same, which would you have chosen?”
they made a mockery of him once 'look at the walking tragedy' now they whisper when he passes
he's a demon, with a crown of blood
He knows how conception works, and he knows he doesn’t need a lecture on it. But he keeps his mouth tightly shut, letting her tell him about it while he contemplates telling her to stop. The blight in him would much rather her stop, tearing up at the further comments she makes. Especially when he tells her that he would make a good father. A quiet scoff, a hum of laughter. He doubts it immensely. He shakes his head to her, fingers tightening around the bars of the jail cell. No, he’d be a terrible father. He’d become like his own, a machine of a man who bleeds oil when cut.
He grits his teeth then. “I wouldn’t. But I’m flattered you think so.” He tells her, eyes drifting away from her to the cell she’s in. They only drift back to her when she speaks next, uncertain how to even respond to it. So he gnaws on his lip lightly, knowing deep down that being vulnerable was his biggest flaw, and he tried to stay away from it as much as possible. He could at least tell her that.
But he opens his mouth to respond before she cuts him off, and questions it all. And he just stares at her, a fine line forming on his mouth as he shakes his head and steps away from the bars. He wouldn’t answer it, because he doesn’t know. On one hand, he loves Lusea to death, she had died for him. She was his flame, the fire to his flood and waters. And yet, Phoebe was soft to his hardened edges. And he doesn’t know.
He doesn’t know.
And so he lets his gaze harden on her as his trembling hands find their way, folded along his chest. “Do you want out of this cell or not?” He asks flatly. Ignoring the question entirely.
does it look like he's still under your control?
SUNJATA
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.
Phoebe smiled a little and shook her head at him. ”You think you would be bad at anything that doesn’t involve fighting people.” she pointed out, shrugging slightly. It was a running trend with him. Anything that was non-violent he thought he would be awful at, but he had proven time and time again his deep capacity for caring and love and affection. It might not be what he was most comfortable with. It might be difficult for him at first. But it was there, and that was more than some could claim.
He dodged her question though and she frowned, not moving from her spot. Offering her release was clearly intended to distract her, but frankly she didn’t care. Where she was didn’t change her situation. ”I want you to answer my question.” she said more pointedly. ”If you are going to keep showing up to talk, if you are going to keep insisting that you care and cared about me, I deserve to know.” she said, feeling the black tears rising in her eyes again. ”If I had had the time to know you as much as Lusea does, would you have chosen me over her?”
they made a mockery of him once 'look at the walking tragedy' now they whisper when he passes
he's a demon, with a crown of blood
She poises the statement at him and he bites down on his lower lip again. She was right, but it was because it was what he was made to do. Born and bred for destruction and violence. And in his life? It was all he knew. He didn’t know the tender touch of a mother until he won the trial. He didn’t know what love could be like until he met Lusea. He didn’t know any of it, and he fumbled his way through it — a machine at first, uncertain but pushing through. “Because I am.” He puts it bluntly, exhaling a sigh.
Then, as she notices he doesn’t want to answer, she tells him again. He doesn’t want to answer it, again, because he doesn’t know. If things were different, maybe? Maybe they already are? The blight in him shifts and pulls differently and he finds himself closing his eyes with a deep sigh in response to her. Can’t she tell that she still means something? Why else would he constantly find a reason? Why does he have to say it?
But fuck it.
He opens his eyes and looks toward her, seeing the well of black tears springing in her gaze. “I don’t know.” He answers honestly. A gruff answer, accented thickly. “Maybe? Probably?” He shakes his head and looks away from her, fingers curling into his arms and digging into the fur that covers him. “I loved you too.” He finally says, defeated, quiet, withdrawn. “That’s why I came to apologize at the infirmary. Why I came to plant the rose at the clinic. Why I’m here now to see if you’re better.” He closes his eyes tight and shakes his head again, pissed at the blight for letting the softness shine through. Pissed a small amount at her for making him talk the hypothetical question he wrangled constantly.
does it look like he's still under your control?
SUNJATA
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.
”You are though. You’re good at a lot of things. You just need someone to believe in you.” she said softly. And she did believe in him – she had proven it over and over again she thought. For the time they had together, she had walked hand in hand with him, doing everything she could to support him and make him happy – to give him space to be more than he let himself be usually.
But then his words, unexpected admissions, crashed down over her. She had expected him to say Lusea. She had expected him to remind her of all she wasn’t, all she couldn’t be compared to her. Phoebe gaped at him, her breath hitching as she stared. But it soon melted into a frown. The words she had wanted to hear now said too late. Or was it? ”Then why won’t you choose me? If I am enough…if I make you happy…if that really is true then why not me?” she asked, her hoarse voice cracking with emotion. ”Why do you insist on being with her when you keep coming back to me?”
they made a mockery of him once 'look at the walking tragedy' now they whisper when he passes
he's a demon, with a crown of blood
He doesn’t know how anyone could end up believing in him when he doesn’t even believe in himself. But he doesn’t argue. He simply nods silently in response before his thoughts grow muddled and off and he admits cards he wields close to his chest. Steel eyes drifting back towards her as the words hit, his lips forming a tight line in response. He doesn’t know the answer. Because he knows that Phoebe makes him soft, makes him similar to the boy he had once been. But Lusea, she had been there for his ‘glory days’, for his most notable achievements. For when he became who he was now.
And he shakes his head in response. “I don’t know, Phoebe.” His accented voice is almost just as hoarse. He doesn’t know why, not really anyway. “Because you were right, I am afraid to be that version of myself. With her, I don’t have to be. I’m stronger for it.” He shakes his head again, taking a step back and turning from her slightly so she doesn’t have to see his own fight with his own emotions.
“Maybe because I prefer to suffer more and more by reminding myself of the softness I have when I’m around you?” He suggests, at a loss for what else it could be.
does it look like he's still under your control?
SUNJATA
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.
"You're never stronger when you deny part of your self. You are more than a fighter. You are more than a killer. And I love all of it. The fighter. The killer. The lover. The soft side and the hard side." she said, her voice shaking. But it wasn't just her voice. It was her hands, her arms, her legs, her whole body trembled with the strength of the emotion that ran through her. Just as she loved Frey for all the layers that made them them, not just the sex-craved face most saw, she loved all the layers that made Jata Jata.
"Is that the real reason you won't choose me? Because you're afraid?" she asked, her voice breaking again. Don't choose her because he didn't love her as much. Don't choose her because she didn't make him as happy as Lusea. Don't choose her because she was more difficult. But don't let it be that she wasn't chosen because he was afraid.
they made a mockery of him once 'look at the walking tragedy' now they whisper when he passes
he's a demon, with a crown of blood
The way she says it, that she still loves him causes him to turn away from her slightly more. He doesn’t want to hear it, doesn’t want to listen to the claims she makes on what he’s like, what he’s done, as if it’s okay. Because it’s not okay. It never has been. But is that because of him? Or the life he grew up in? Yet again, he doesn’t know, and he bites down on his lower lip again as he fights back against the blight that runs through him. The blight that wants to attack and get rid of those he cares about.
Once again he’d rather himself be small, would rather he have the option of ceasing it all if only to not deal with this anymore. But of course, she isn’t done. And she poises the question at him and he shakes his head, the blight creeping in deeper as he turns back to the bars she’s behind. “I am.” He tells her, approaching further, edging near the bars, a trembling hand reaching up to gesture to all of her. “I’m afraid of what you can make of me, of this.” There’s a smile that crosses his face now, cold. “I don’t want any of it, any of the things you do, and yet the weak part of me is drawn to you, that wants and craves those things. And I always come to you when I’m weak, you are my crutch.” He tells her bluntly, a snort leaving him.
“And being weak gets you killed.” It got Lusea killed. It got his friends killed. It got everyone killed in the end.
does it look like he's still under your control?
SUNJATA
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.
09-17-2019, 11:39 PM (This post was last modified: 09-17-2019, 11:39 PM by Phoebe.)
PHOEBE
His words should hurt her feelings. They should sting her soul. But the cold smile that creeps across his face makes her still internally. This wasn't Jata anymore. She of all people could recognize when the blight reared its ugly head, and here it was, doing everything it could to hurt her and shove her away. But she wouldn't have it. Not today, Blight. Not. Today.
"The blight is overcoming you now. I can tell." she said dryly, her expression falling flat. "Answer the question when the blight releases you again. I will not dignify that parasitic illness with my emotions." she said, looking up at the ceiling.
they made a mockery of him once 'look at the walking tragedy' now they whisper when he passes
he's a demon, with a crown of blood
She tells him the blight is overcoming him now, as if he doesn’t already know. Trembling fingers lash out to grab onto the bars as he stares at her, turning her nose up toward him and claiming she doesn’t believe it causes him to laugh darkly. “The answer will be the same.” He informs her, a tilt to his head as the smile crosses his face again. Cruel, dark, twisting. “You don’t want to believe it, but it’s the truth. You make me weak. You make me into someone with too many attachments. Look what happened to my last one? She was killed because of what she meant to me. We had grown weak together.” He can’t stop the words as they fall from his lips.
“For a woman that is common born, you‘ve picked up an awful lot of those noble’s habits.” He points out, giving her a knowing look, never having brought it up before. But if she wants to pretend, he can play at it too.
does it look like he's still under your control?
SUNJATA
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.
Oh but two could play that game. She looked back at him, the telltale coldness of the blight clear in her gaze. She was only just recovering after all, not completely better. "That's where you're wrong, Jata. She made you weak. I made you whole - and that's a strength you aren't used to. When you feel, I feel with you, she panics. When you hurt, I hold you, she hurts you more. When you are weak, I support you, she questions your strength." she said, tears welling in her eyes.
"But you are scared. You are too scared to fight for me. To choose me." she said, her voice starting to tremble. "That is all I want. To be chosen. To be fought for." The tears began to fall and she looked up at the ceiling. "And I am alone in this cell, covered in the blood of my friends and I can't wash it off, and all I wanted was someone to hold me and here you come dangling in front of me that you want me but too scared so you picked Lusea." she said, breaking down and beginning to sob.
they made a mockery of him once 'look at the walking tragedy' now they whisper when he passes
he's a demon, with a crown of blood
Oh two can certainly play at that. He listens to her claims, and laughs at the implications. No, she hadn’t done any of those things. She had chipped away at him, made him easily molded, to be folded and shaped into what she wanted him to be. And all he does for the moment is smile through it, for the moment, until he hears the next set of words and of being scared, and the smile falters. As if he’s coming to his senses, the blight shifts and releases a hold — like the time Phoebe had slapped him after growing angry. And he takes a moment to inhale deeply before slipping away from the bars, closing his eyes and pressing into them with the heels of his shaking hands.
He hears her break and he bites down on his lower lip, stepping away until he’s nearly a shadow down the hall. She’s right, and he hates himself for admitting it. He’d rather keep them closely guarded. But he manages to capture a guards attention, bringing the man back to unlock the cell and slide the bars open. He waits by the edge of the cell in the hallway, soft sorrow lacing his eyes. “I’m sorry.” He tells her quietly. “Let’s get you home.” It’s almost a whisper.
does it look like he's still under your control?
SUNJATA
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.
She didn't notice him walk away, nor when the guard approached. Phoebe was curled in on herself, black tears rolling freely down her cheeks as she trembled and held herself. "It hurts, Frey, it hurts." she whispered, voice shuddering, rocking slightly. She just wanted her friend, to be held and comforted for a short time, to not be faced with the realities Jata was attacking her with.
But Pim lifted his head and looked at Jata as he opened the cell. The dragonling grumbled at him, glancing between the two. He started this. Time to fix it. Phoebe hyperventilated slightly, turning to look back at him. She sniffled and slowly pulled herself up, stumbling as she got to her feet. Her arms were still wrapped around her waist and she shuffled forward with Pim close to her side.
they made a mockery of him once 'look at the walking tragedy' now they whisper when he passes
he's a demon, with a crown of blood
Luckily for him, Pim is enough to pull the midwife out of the cell, and despite the blood and everything that coats her from the days she’s been imprisoned, after it, despite the wounds she’s given him, he can’t help but to want to help her. He runs a hand through his hair as she steps out, and he reaches for the furs that he wears over his jacket, reaching over to place them onto her shoulders quietly.
She wanted to be held, touched, loved, and he had none of it to give despite wanting to. He doesn’t know which part of him will rear up when they get to the clinic, but he knows that he can at least give her this favor — home for warmth, a hot shower, food, if only to tell her how sorry he is. As he looks her over with the furs removed, the rest of the wounds become visible should she look, but he makes no comment on it. “Do you want my jacket?” He asks quietly.
does it look like he's still under your control?
SUNJATA
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.
