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!
Ascended sleep was a complicated thing, not really anything close to the real thing but enough that Bastien still put aside time for it; this time though, it wasn't all that voluntary. In his delirium consciousness drifted around him and through him, left at random moments: one second he was laid on a couch in the Sanctuary staring at the ceiling and watching it move in spirals, then he was gone, eyes closed, head down.
When he 'woke' it was in a room he recognised well, but he had not been within for quite some time; his bedroom in Venice, in the attic of the Artist's Sanctuary there. A large window on the one side covered with thin, fluttering sheets, a large bed, endless papers and scattered notes, an easel in the corner and a fireplace opposite. Downstairs he could hear the sounds of his students waking and going about their days; it was probably about 11, he would estimate, from the sun in the window (which, given this was a dream of the past, did not harm his skin) and the sound of the merchants outside.
The bed he woke upon was luxurious, of course. He had spent well on it, a craftsman for each element: little wooden mice ran across the headboard, soft sheets adorned the thick mattress and a series of beautiful embroidered blankets covered it. More important than the bed though was who he shared it with: Rexanna lay next to him, softly sleeping, his entirely human wife in Venice, where she had always been with him. Leaning over to kiss her cheek and stroke her hair, wake her, he couldn't help the fond smile on his face.
and i watch in wonder, hung high and dry, where no one can see
if there's no one to blame, blame it on me
In this version of herself, she’s as she was before Ascending. Pale skin, a bit of a sunburn she doesn’t remember how she got – eyes a vibrant sapphire blue and no fangs to be found. She’s warm as she curls up in the blankets beside her husband, hair a wild tangle of a mess as the sun filters in through the window. She sleeps peacefully, serenely, nothing at all to bring her out of it other than the gentleness with which Bastien typically woke her with.
Her nose wiggles briefly as the kiss is pressed to her cheek, as his hand strokes through dark hair. There’s the brief mutterings of something that’s completely incoherent before her eyes open, and when she does and spies Bastien there, it’s almost as if her protests were all for naut. She nestles into the blankets a bit more, rolling a bit onto her back and raising a hand to pull her birds nest of hair out of her face – eyes focusing on Bastien to her side, mimicking his smile with a sleepy one of her own.
She can hear the students waking down below them, and in her still somewhat exhausted state, she reaches out with her other hand to brush against Bastien’s stubbled cheek. “Ten more minutes?” She asks, sleepily, uncaring if they’re late for anything.
Rexanna was clearly comfortable; Bastien almost felt bad waking her, but with the plan he had made for the day, he knew it would be worth it. Still, they could have another ten minutes. Sliding back down into the covers himself, he snuggled close to her, putting an arm around her waist and kissing her cheek, stroking down her hip. "Fine, but only because you asked so nicely." He joked, closing his own eyes and enjoying the cosiness of the moment.
Eventually, possibly ten minutes later but likely longer, he felt the sun on their faces, bright enough to make him open his eyes and take in a breath. Bastien hummed and grabbing Rex around the middle, laughed as he lifted her up onto him, rolling so she was flipped onto his other side. "We can't lay here all day, my love! As much as it sounds tempting, we have things to do, remember - I promised you I'd show you my favourite spots in the city." While Rexanna lived here with him, she was not as familiar with Venice as he was, and Bastien had been promising this tour for quite some time.
and i watch in wonder, hung high and dry, where no one can see
if there's no one to blame, blame it on me
His agreement, the way he cuddles closer, has her arms wrapping tightly around him, tucking her head in close against his chest and closing her eyes to drift off just a few minutes longer. As the few minutes shift into a bit longer, she wakes again once Bastien is grabbing her – flipping her to his other side with a breathless hum of a laugh slipping from her throat. “Right, right.” She agrees, still a touch tired, but she manages to pause to appreciate him and his gesture, running her hand along his chest gently, before she slips from the bed.
Much like a cat, Rexanna stretches out in the sunlight, reflecting off pale and mostly unblemished skin, reaching for a flowy gown she can slip on as well as running a brush through her hair just so she might appear somewhat presentable. She wasn’t sure where they were heading yet, only having a vague idea of where the places where he wanted to show her, and so she ties a little leather piece to her wrist just in case she’ll need to tie up her dark hair.
And when she’s done, she’s already reaching for him – pressing her body against his gently as she does every morning – a more official, good morning, hug before the day’s truly started. "Alright, love, I'm ready." She murmurs, the chime in her voice surprisingly vibrant.
Bastien couldn't help but watch as Rexanna stretched, his smile probably a touch goofy in it's genuine appreciation of his wife; how he had been so lucky to marry a divine muse such as her was beyond him, but he tried to be sure to remember how fortunate he truly was each day. He spent so long simply watching her he almost forgot he had to get ready himself, jumped up as she was brushing her hair to dress in his usual light shirt and tight pants, a shawl tossed around his shoulders for some interest.
His arms automatically reached out to hold her as she got close; this was a dance he knew the steps to well, could have raised his hand to stroke her hair in his sleep. Pressing a kiss against her temple, he pulled back and nodded. "I should hope so! For you will find this to be one of the most exciting days of your entire life." He promised, the showmanship in him coming out.
Taking her hand, he guided Rexanna down the stairs; the building was buzzing with students eating breakfast, talking, dressing, carrying art, beginning their work. Each greeted their teacher and Rexanna enthusiastically; a couple tried to stop Bastien for questions, but he shook his head: today was for Rexanna, they could wait. When they finally made it out to the street, he laughed, shaking his head. "I love them, but sometimes it is such a pain, being so in demand. Why was I so cursed with this heavenly wisdom?" A dramatic hand on the chest completed the question to the skies.
Bastien was a natural in the crowded streets, flowing through them as if he had been made for them. "Now, we are going to start with the grand and noble, then move onto the really interesting. You know how I feel about our Doge, but...ah, his palace is probably one of the most iconic things in Venice. I would be amiss to not include it."
and i watch in wonder, hung high and dry, where no one can see
if there's no one to blame, blame it on me
Hair brushed and tossed into a quick plait, she nearly sinks into his arms as they wrap around her in their morning greeting. Her head tilts into his hand, opening it up for the soft kiss to her temple – and then she’s stepping up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips back in response. “My entire life? I suppose we should get going then, hm?” But already he’s taking her hand, guiding her down the stairs, and she offers her own good mornings to the students – patting Bastien’s hand every time they were stopped for questions.
Finally, however, they’re out on the street and she’s clutching his hand gently, shoulder brushing against his arm while they walk, a chimed laugh leaving her at his declaration. “To share it, my love.” She comments, as if she’s done it every morning since they’d met. A routine, that’s what it was. But nothing about what came next was routine, and her eyes are vibrant and bright as he guides her through the crowded streets, ensuring she doesn’t get lost into the flow of it.
“I do love the grand and noble.” A hum of a laugh leaves her, her head tilting to look over toward him and squint a bit through the sunlight. “A palace? If I wasn’t intrigued before, I am now.” She winks to him, and lets him continue to lead the way.
"Absolutely. Tonight you will find that you are a changed woman." While he wasn't sure he could actually make this tour live up to those expectations, Bastien was through and through a showman, and knew how to hype up what he was offering. Besides, he believed in himself enough to think any day with him could be that good, if gone into with the right mood.
She gave the perfect answer to his melancholy question and Bastien laughed, nodding and tapping the side of his head. "You are correct. I must suffer under the burden of such intelligence for the good of all." Oh, he knew there were many that would argue on that point, but he wasn't intending to listen to them.
They weaved through crowds, through markets and queues with ease, Bastien in his element here; occasionally people would stop to say hello and he would greet them back lightning-fast, before beginning to move again. "You love grand and noble, and yet you live with the poor artist in the worst district of town." He pointed out with a laugh, looking back to her, as they came out into the main square. The palace was before them, but the best way to look at it was a little closer.
"Try to keep your eyes on the ground, until we reach it." He instructed, guiding her across the square. As much as he wanted to buck against authority and order anywhere it manifested, it was hard for him to deny that the palace, with it's repeated archways and carvings, was beautiful. A different kind of beauty from his usual sort, which made it all the more appealing. Once they were close enough that you could see all the way across, but that the Palace felt it's biggest over you, he stopped. "Now look up. Tell me how it makes you feel."
and i watch in wonder, hung high and dry, where no one can see
if there's no one to blame, blame it on me
She believes him, whether or not it’s true. Whatever experiences Bastien took her through did change her in more ways than one. So she has little to believe that it wouldn’t work when the day was done. And so she follows him, easily, hand in his as he parts the sea of people to bring her to their first stop while she teases him as she always does. “Exactly.” She chimes, flashing him a grin and a soft laugh, drawing quiet as they continued to cross the city.
At his laugh and the point he’s made, she playfully rolls her eyes to him. “The grand and noble are great in doses. You know this.” Her attention is entirely on him before he requests she drop it to the ground – and so she does, dark hair creating a curtain to keep her vision from seeing the building before he’s ready for her to.
Luckily, it doesn’t take long – they stop and her head lifts, hair slipping back into place as she lays her eyes on it. At first, she doesn’t know what to say, staring at the arched windows, the columns that also edge in an arch. It is grand, it is rather beautiful, and the smile that spreads across her face as her reaching for Bastien’s arm, intertwining her hand with his and leaning into him. “This is beautiful, Bastien.” She murmurs softly, gaze soaking up all of it, speechless in her attempts to say anything else. It's grand, it's noble, that's for sure - but it's so different from what she was used to back home that this doesn't carry the same weight, the same connotations. And she'll absolutely take it.
"Very, very small doses for me." Really though, he did agree. As much as Bastien loved his bohemian life and world, he had to admit having a flair for the dramatic that admired the plunging curtains and golden stair rails of the noble class. There was a certain atmosphere created by wealth that he could not pretend to always hate, at least on an aesthetic level.
It was nice to see the palace anew through Rexanna's eyes. Easily he wrapped his fingers around hers and leaned in closer, laughing softly at her appraisal and kissing the top of her head. "It is. And yet, I would take our attic and you any morning over fifteen of them." And that was the crux of it, he supposed; no amount of gilding and architecture could replace art, soul and love. That was why he could never abandon his ways for the allure of finery.
"Though, before you make such a decision, perhaps you should see the inside. Some say it is the finest sight in all of Venice...personally, I find it a little gaudy." He explained as he guided her forwards, beneath the columns and up the stairs, to the hall that was open to the public. "And if I, I, find something too gaudy, it must truly be offensive to the senses."
Eventually they would come into a ostentatiously gold and detailed room, the ceiling divided into sections each depicting a scene from biblical times or myth, the borders filigreed and curved into intricate patterns. While Bastien did, indeed, find this all a bit tacky (the money that had gone into that gold...how many mouths it could have fed), he still could not resist gawking up at the ceiling like every other visitor, appreciating the paintings and their casings. "...It is...a true reflection of mankind. A magnificent achievement, but a dark show of our priorities towards our fellow man."
and i watch in wonder, hung high and dry, where no one can see
if there's no one to blame, blame it on me
A soft laugh leaves her as he kisses the top of her head, leaning into him and keeping her arm wrapped tightly around him. “I would take anything so long as you’re there.” She offers, glancing up at him from where she stands, cheeks flushed and warm, pressing herself close to him before he proclaims that she shouldn’t quite dive into the idea of it just yet – to see the inside.
As he says gaudy, though, there is a raised brow that accompanies it, knowing full well the next statement he says is true. But she follows him, hand in hand, eyes bright and wide to take in the sights. And she pauses one they’ve reached the inside, glancing up at the ceiling and then to the walls, the light filtering in and illuminating the entirety of it.
“You know…” She pauses, brows furrowing as she points to one painting in particular that spans the entire wall. “This reminds me of Halyven actually.” A quiet hum of consideration before she’s turning to face Bastien again, hand squeezing his. “We had big gaudy rooms painted head to toe with gold trims and trims.” Taking a moment to scan the area again she can’t help the chime of laughter. “We had a lot more white though.”
But she does find it beautiful still, if only perhaps a bit more... Nostalgic now.
"Very romantic, my dear." In his more cynical side he wondered if it were true: if Rexanna could choose between being with him in a manure shed her whole life, or never seeing him again in a lovely hotel room, which was she more likely to pick? The idea brought a somewhat silly smile to his face but he didn't voice it; it was unlikely (yet not impossible) they'd ever fall into the situation where they would have to make that choice.
He looked to the painting she pointed out. Anything he got to hear of her home was a precious segment of a story he received in drips from her, the history that had created the woman he loved. "White...for the wings? I believe you mentioned wings." Probably because of his own biases and history, he imagined the people from her old home to be angelic, wearing clean robes and with large dove wings, glowing halos above their heads.
Listening to her as they moved along through the Palace then back out again, he would take her hands as they reached the courtyard. "Now that I have shown you the obligatory set piece, would you like to see real Venice?"
and i watch in wonder, hung high and dry, where no one can see
if there's no one to blame, blame it on me
She flashes him an equally as ridiculous grin. It was a no brainer for her – so long as she had him she’d be happy anywhere. It was better than being alone in grandeur. But she points to the painting next, explaining that there was far more white rather than the stark gold hues this place had. As he speaks of wings though, her attention focuses back on him with a soft smile. “No, we didn’t have wings. Asciend did.” She pauses as she considers it. “It was their whole… Thing I guess. They had wings and were from the mountains. My ex-husband had wings but I never did.” She flashes him an easier smile with that.
Probably why she got along so well here, having not quite been the fallen angel Bastien may think of her as.
But they continue to walk through the Palace and eventually outside of it, her attention focusing on all the beauty that lingered within the confines of it. And when they’re outside, her hand is back in his, and she can’t help the chimed laughter that leaves her. “Of course I do!” Sticking her tongue out at him briefly, she can’t help but to snicker to herself again as they continue to move.
"Oh...right. Apologies, it is hard to keep track of. Besides, you are like one of the angels to me, so I cannot help but think of it." Bastien winked, always able to turn anything into a charming moment, especially when it came to his dear wife, who he indeed could imagine easily with a halo behind her head and magnificent wings on her back...an idea for a painting, possibly.
Angels aside, or possibly because of them, he had an idea only possible because of the dream they were in, though Bastien wasn't aware of that. "Alright. Keep hold of my hand, and don't be scared - I am going to show you the best views of Venice." With that he grabbed her hand and began to run through the crowd, across the plaza, until suddenly he jumped...and didn't hit the ground. Both of them would float up and up, over the tall rooftops and to the clouds, where they could look down and see the series of canals and rivers in the city, like veins in a heart.
Grinning Bastien turned to face her, his other hand coming to take hers as he spun around in the air. "I bet you've never had a tour like this before!"
and i watch in wonder, hung high and dry, where no one can see
if there's no one to blame, blame it on me
A chimed laugh slips from her lips as she nods to him, giving him the benefit of the doubt. “I’m here to remind you, love.” She murmurs softly, hand lingering in his easily when he tells her to. She only has time to raise a dark brow his way, wondering what exactly the best views would be and how long it might take to get to each one. There’s a part of her that craves to see it all, see the stellar bits and pieces he so fondly spoke of but she’d never quite seen.
And then suddenly, so suddenly, theyre flying. A gasp leaves her ass they suddenly jump and float through the air, her hand squeezing his tight as he guides her up and up until she can see the streets, see the way it looks like veins, like life before her eyes. “Bastien! We’re flying!” She’s nearly breathless, her freehand coming up to cover her mouth as she breathes in her surprise and appreciation for the beauty that was the world below them. But Bastien then takes them and spins them and she laughs, a bubbling sound before colliding into him, wrapping her arms tight around him and pressing her cheek into his chest in a way that she could still peer down at the beautiful city below. “You’re right. You’ve certainly outdone yourself.”
