What do you get when two ruthless assassins raise their daughter travelling through the wildest reaches of Caido? Take one look at Theea and you'll get a pretty good idea. Cheerful and tenacious in equal measure, and curious beyond all else, she began her journey on a mission to find those her mother once called family. And find them she did, soon rubbing elbows with demigods, leaders and even ghosts from the past. Her determination is resolute, her thirst for knowledge unmatched. We can't wait to see where her next adventure takes her!
Congratulations, Theea!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
OG Skinning provided by Kaons, with functionality and many custom plugins made by Neowulf!
Sing to me, I am not doing well Getting tired of my own words
The wind turned. From an overcast sky snowflakes began to fall. Small at first, barely more than needle pricks against the skin, they steadily grew in both number and density, until the flurry was so thick that it became impossible to see more than a few feet. Indistinct figures huddled under white-fringed cloaks, bending their backs against the icy draft and clutching their collars as they hurried along the streets. It was not a day for lingering outside. Even with the warmth of the bonfire to stave off the worst chill, the ground was churned into a slurry of snow and mud that splattered across boots and skirts, clinging to coats and soaking through until toes grew numb with cold damp.
Maea pulled her hood up and picked her way gingerly across puddles towards a market stall. Rubbing her arms beneath the dark cloak she browsed the goods absently, occasionally reaching out to touch the rim of a ceramic bowl, a bolt of colorful cloth, knitted clothing or jewelry that sparkled in the firelight. It was all nice, pretty things, but though she defied the weather and made a full turn around the marketplace she didn't feel like anything she saw would suit her needs.
How did one express gratitude for a life saved? What object could possibly equal what had been gifted her? You didn't find second chances (or was it third, by now? Fourth?) laid out for display. A token, then, would have to suffice. Something symbolic, or practical, or at least pretty...
Pursing her lips, the petite woman slowed before a neatly arranged display of glassware. Figurines rubbed shoulders with bowls and pitchers, decorative stained glass pieces hung side by side with wind-chimes, prisms and colorful jewelry in a display that would have been dazzling in the sun. Picking up a wine glass to examine the craftsmanship more closely, she did her best to ignore the shop keeper's impatient shuffle on the other side of the table and tried not to let their eagerness to pack up for the day get to her. Easier said than done; with every barely restrained sigh and pointed rub of gloved hands together, Maea's tail flicked harder and faster as irritation mounted.
Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself through the loudness of my own hurts
The cold of the Hollowed Grounds couldn't compete with Halo, but it could certainly try. Elizabeth pulled the fluffy earmuffs over her reddening ears to keep them from hitting the burning stage of cold exposure. The soft brown leather of her insulated gloves fell back down to her dark pink jacket and into the pockets to further protect them. The jacket was her favorite, hanging to a flattering length around mid-thigh that gave the illusion of a dress despite her traveling pants and boots beneath. To add to its many perks, it even had a stretch of fur around the neck that kept her perfectly content in the flurry of snow.
Her appearance was professional, fitting with her own reasoning for being within the land of the Ancients. Because even Dygra's children needed help mediating family dynamics at times. Another crisis divorce had been diverted through open communication and gentle mediation (and some kind reminders that making decisions in the midst of a bloodlust craze was not the wisest). Everyone had left the session with a plan for improvement built on mutual love and respect.
Overall, she'd call the trip a success deserving of a little shopping.
Elizabeth ignored the way the snowflakes burrowed into her brown hair as she approached a particularly sparkly booth full of glass configurations. They shone in the torchlight, highlighting the expert craftsmanship of each piece. If she'd had more money, she might have considered purchasing a set of the gorgeous wine glasses the woman next to her was holding; but the shop owner seemed perturbed, and she only had the funds for a few small pieces. Searching the table, she finally asked, "Do you have anything like a bookmark?"
Sing to me, I am not doing well Getting tired of my own words
The vendor turned towards the new customer with a pleasant smile, appearing pleased to attend someone who actually knew what they wanted. "Bookmarks? Hm, well, perhaps one of these might suit," they suggested and indicated a rich blue velvet frame against which an assortment of baubles stringed to silken chord and ribbons had been pinned. They looked mostly like necklaces or hair ornaments, but as the vendor smoothly assured, they would fit quite well between pages as well.
The price they offered caused Maea to raise a brow and set the glasses down again. "That's robbery," she pointed out, frowning as the glanced between the two. "What are you making these out of, diamond dust?" Even if the materials required to blow glass had to be imported, it didn't warrant such an outrageous price. The merchant in her was appalled and Maea turned to the other woman to say as much, realizing only belatedly that she knew her.
The words died on her tongue, wilting back into a throat suddenly too full of unfulfilled promises to produce sound.
Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself through the loudness of my own hurts
Her eyes ran over the beautiful pieces of work. They may not be intended for bookmarks, yet Elizabeth often found that those were her favorite. The prices were indeed outrageous, but she let out a soft sigh of resignation rather than frustration. These types of people often responded to helpless damsels to take advantage of. She'd seen it too many times, which made it all the easier to settle her features into ones of disappointment. "Ah. But what a pity. I don't have that much." The weight of her purse wouldn't convince the man, but the sad pout of her lip might.
Elizabeth made it a point to never 'recognize' anyone in public, especially those who may have shared personal details with her. So when Maea looked her way, she was met with a polite but unaware look that would have suggested she didn't know the woman. To anyone else, it may seem like a cordial smile of two strangers, although the Ancient may notice the slight tilt of her lips that indicated more.
Shrugging her shoulders, she gave Maea some time to decide if she'd identify herself or remain 'anonymous,' choosing to cast her gaze towards the other stalls and stores. "But I think I saw some equally beautiful glassware down the street, and their prices were much more reasonable." She'd seen no such place, but the vendor didn't need to know that. He just needed to know she was willing to walk away. Even better was if she was taking other potential customers with her. Turning to Maea, she smiled. "I can show you where if you'd like?" If this man was a smart businessman (or smart, period), he'd reconsider his prices to make the sale, not that she particularly cared either way.
Light shifts strangely, casting fleeting shadows across the barren landscape. It’s as if something stands just out of sight, letting you catch only a ghost of its outline. The silence grows thick, smothering. You sense a prying gaze, waiting for you to falter. This does not count as a Random Event for levelling or MP. There will be no further admin/re intervention.
Sing to me, I am not doing well Getting tired of my own words
Noticing the neutral expression on Elizabeth's face, Maea schooled her own face into the polite smile of a friendly passerby. The initial stab of panic eased and she rolled her shoulders back in a light shrug, affecting some mild interest at the suggestion. "Yes, perhaps..."
"Ah, not at all," the vendor quickly interjected - as expected. "Fine materials only of course, for wares of highest quality, and I can see that you both have an eye for these things. Perhaps you might consider..." he said, offering a new price for the baubles.
Turning back towards the stall, Maea considered for a moment before impulsively interjecting again. "I've a mind to purchase those wine glasses after all... pray tell, what offer would you give for those plus the bookmark?" She and the mind mender could always settle the economy between themselves later. The cold of the day was beginning to stiffen her joints, and Maea looked forward to thawing herself out by a fire, with a mug of mulled wine. Shapes in the corner of her eyes made her shudder, though likely it was only phantoms wrought by the snow.
Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself through the loudness of my own hurts
It didn't surprise her to hear the vendor reconsider his previous choices. The loss of customers would probably be brutal this time of year. Not many people wanted to linger out in the biting cold to get gouged by prices. She gave a thoughtful hum, as if not quite sure she was interested in the new price either. It wouldn't do to appear too eager.
A combined bargain was smart on Maea's part, possibly enticing the man with the prospect of more sales. Yet Elizabeth found herself distracted, looking away from the duo to spot the flickering of what looked to be a figure. Her breath caught in her chest, and she couldn't convince herself that it was just a shadow. A feeling hooked into her, refusing to release. It was the sense that if she made a single misstep or faltering breath, something terrible would happen. Her heart raced against the supernatural sensation, her mind trying to throw every piece of logic at the outline like a flurry of snow hitting a solid barrier.
After a moment, someone stepped into her line of sight, interrupting her view of the figure for long enough to rip her eyes away. Slowing her breath, Elizabeth turned back to the negotiations. A small smile fluttered across her pale face, but she showed polite interest in whatever was occurring.
Sing to me, I am not doing well Getting tired of my own words
It was too cold for haggling, really. Maea might have applied herself to teaching the vendor a lesson at any other time of the year, but today she would settle for not being robbed outright. Coming away from the debate with the glasses wrapped in tissue to keep them safe, she parted with the payment and indicated to Elizabeth that she should pick out the bookmark she preferred.
"Pardon for taking over like that," she offered quietly once the affair was settled. "He was getting on my nerves..." Dusting a buildup of snow off her hood, the temporary confidence bled away into quiet awkwardness. Without a task immediately at hand, Maea floundered. She longed to retreat indoors, but hesitated to simply leave the woman, even as she dreaded what further conversation might lead to.
Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself through the loudness of my own hurts
Finally feeling the tension dissipate, Elizabeth was able to concentrate on the task at hand. She selected a small red ribbon with a glass ursur charm hanging on the end. It was perfect.
Once the man had packaged it up, she took it delicately in her hands before quickly stowing it in the bag across her shoulder. She then turned to Maea with a warm smile of reassurance, no signs of annoyance or frustration on her face. "That's okay. You handled it well." Some people got short and aggressive when faced with outrageous prices, but she'd done what any seasoned negotiator would do, staying calm and standing her ground. And because of that, she'd secured both their items with ease.
Elizabeth noticed the awkward chill between them, hoping she might be able to break through the ice with her usual calming demeanor. Her smile was soft, the offer coming easily as she asked, "May I pay you back with a hot beverage?" She indicated to a nearby cafe advertising 'divine coffees and teas.'
02-07-2025, 05:19 AM (This post was last modified: 02-14-2025, 04:30 AM by Maea.)
Sing to me, I am not doing well Getting tired of my own words
A faint grimace twisted her lips, the assurance - or compliment - shrugged off with such ease that it seemed habitual. Ingrained, a self deprecation that went bone deep and perhaps lay as a foundation for all the other woes this young woman cloaked her in like it was the finest garb. Unaware that she had even done anything, she hovered uncertainly for a moment, following Elizabeth's indication with her gaze and assessing the cafe.
"Hm, I... sure. Why not."
There wasn't enough fight in her to avoid the inevitable. Perhaps it wouldn't be as bad as she feared. Perhaps it was about time that she stopped running from everyone she knew. Maybe, just maybe, this woman was exactly who she should be talking to at this point, because gods knew Maea hadn't gotten anywhere on her own. She had returned from death for a second time, determined to actually live, and yet... here she was. Cowering, hiding, wasting what precious time she'd been gifted on fear.
Making an effort to straighten her back, she fell into step beside the therapist, and headed for the eatery. It couldn't get worse, she told herself. It really, really could not get worse.
[FIN]
Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself through the loudness of my own hurts
