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!
Before Loren could stop himself, he found himself responding to the other man’s comment. ”Actually, the point is to look entirely inconspicuous, completely average, not at all memorable.” Giving the alchemist an awkward look, the librarian ran a hand through his hair. ”At least, that’s what I heard.” It was hardly the smoothest recovery but he really didn’t want to get into the ‘my father was a spy’ conversation with Remi.
It had been out of line, Loren knew that, so he simply looked down, ashamed, at the other man’s entirely accurate criticisms. ”You’re right. I’m sorry.” Even trapped as he’d felt—and had been, in his own way—it couldn’t possibly compare to Remi’s experiences. Just because the summoner had a rough childhood and life didn't mean others hadn't had it worse, no matter how many scars Loren might possess. His arms came up to hug himself, though as soon as he noticed what he was doing he dropped them. It didn’t matter that the librarian hadn’t enforced many of the stupid norms and customs of Northaven. He’d benefited from and not combatted them, and that was enough.
All the joy had been leeched out of the Launceleyn by now after his numerous blunders in this conversation, and he was having trouble mustering the cheerful teasing that had seemed so easy just moments ago. ”I’m not sure that’s progress.” It wasn’t hard to see that Loren was retreating into the dark place he sometimes went in his head; indeed, even he recognized that, and maybe welcomed it just a little. Regardless, he was helpless to stop it. When the other man commented on the summoner’s frame, the summoner just looked up and chuckled mirthlessly. It was a cold and dark sound. ”My parents are dead and I’m not exactly in the market for a new one.” He’d been taking care of himself for almost a year: Remi’s mother henning was not needed and not appreciated.
Too tired to fight back, Loren eyed the alchemist’s hands as they reached for the Launceleyn. When they came to rest on his shoulders, he tensed; his heart pounded faster in his chest, and he breathed heavier, but he was too scared, both of the contact and of what Remi might try to do next if Loren broke away, to do anything. So the summoner stood there, his blue eyes staring into those filmy white ones, panic and sadness etched onto the Launceleyn’s face, as the alchemist did his best to soothe the librarian.
But it didn’t work. Wrenching himself from the other man’s grip, Loren turned to stare at the manor. ”Oh? They didn’t take it out on my family? They like them, and me? Is that so? Then why were Beatrix and Jace abandoned after Edy’s death? Why do people look at me with distrust every time they find out my last name, as if I’m just back to take over Zariah’s reign of terror? Why have I been threatened just because of the blood in my veins? Why is every offer of help I give, every overture I make, rebuffed?” Maybe it wasn’t fair to be dumping all this on Remi, who already had far too many burdens.
But, sad as it was, Loren didn’t have anyone else to talk to about any of this.
Turning back to the other man, the Launceleyn gave the alchemist a helpless and pleading look. The summoner wasn’t trying to force people to stay where they felt uncomfortable. He was just trying to keep people alive. But apparently no one seemed to believe and trust that, and he only had himself to blame for that. ”Then what do I do, Remi?” Since the other man seemed so sure he knew what was best for everyone, maybe he could actually help here. Somehow, though, Loren doubted it. After all, he was beyond help.
09-03-2019, 02:29 AM (This post was last modified: 09-03-2019, 02:32 AM by Remi.)
all our lives i watched you search beneath the fallen skies
"So...not at all like you are right now." The alchemist pointed out with a raised brow. Not to say Loren wasn't memorable personality-wise, but physically? As it was, whatever traits had once attracted Remi to the summoner—the broody confidence, the exhaustively clever mind, the skilled hands, the piercing blue eyes and occasionally slouchy posture—were all gone. The Loren before him now was of no particular build, no particular style of dress, neither intimidating nor entirely weak. He just...was. Just like the spy-character he was describing.
Instead of teasing Loren back, Remi merely let the silence slip through, regarding his almost-friend with wide passive pale-green eyes. It was another of those moments that, had the alchemist retained his memories, he might have navigated through with ease. As it was though something stilled and tensed though the alchemist couldn't quite name it. "Nor am I. Does not mean that I cannot tell you to fatten up. It just means I will not be the one spoon feeding you to ensure it is done." The alchemist quipped slyly.
Progress, the slow smile on Remi's lips might have said, crooked and wildly boyish and bright, as Loren allowed the contact. Rather than being rounded with muscle, the alchemist could feel the man's shoulder bones clearly. And though Remi's hands were not overly large, still they covered the almost-sphere of the summoner's shoulder's far too easily. It was then he noticed the way Loren's chest had started to rise and fall much more quickly, how the pounding of his heart reverberated in a dull thud into Remi's fingers. Rather than recoiling and drawing undo attention, the alchemist merely let his fingers slide softly away, whatever progress he thought he'd made with Loren sufficiently squashed.
Subconsciously, Remi thought his intuitions on how to approach and be around Loren would simply guide him as true as they once had: what rules of Loren's he could break and which to respect, when to push and when to back away. Only...too much had changed. Too much Remi didn't remember. He'd never once pushed with Loren before, not really. It was the librarian who, once upon a time, made all the first moves. Loren, who had done the inviting, who had held the lingering stares, drawn out the banter. Loren who had kissed him, who had once undressed him and had smoothed away the feathers when they appeared. It had been on Loren's timeline that they'd progressed. "Sorry." Remi whispered softly, a mere breath formed around the word, as he let his eyes drop. Something in his chest chipped and fractured. Something akin to failure, and it hurt.
Rubbing at his forehead, unsure how to reel Loren back in, but knowing it would never be by winning an argument, the alchemist merely wrapped his arms about each other. "Not many knew Zariah had left. And there was Peter...I...I am not sure it is fair to say that we all took our dislike of Zariah out on your family, just because no one rushed to take care of children that they did not know about." Indeed, when was the last time anyone saw Beatrix, apart from Peter? Had anyone ever seen Jace? Bristling suddenly, his head snapping up and eyes narrowing, Remi shook his head as if to suggest the rest didn't matter. "Threatened? By who?" He demanded, his accent growing all the more thick around the words.
As Loren stilled if only slightly, Remi wanted nothing more than to surround him in a hug. To wrap arms and wings around his too-scrawny shoulders and block out the world if only for a moment. He could do that, if only the summoner would allow him. But he wouldn't that much was clear, and so Remi merely looked passed him into the house. "First, we go inside where it is warm and make tea." The alchemist offered softly.
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Loren shook his head. ”I’m too skinny and tired looking. Those are memorable features.” Again, the Launceleyn’s parents and current sorry state were not exactly topics that he wanted to dwell on just now. Yes, it was true that he needed to eat more, but given everything else he was supposed to do and given how much everyone else was suffering at the moment it seemed quite low on his list of priorities. ”Everyone at the manor is capable of feeding themselves now, so no spoon-feeding necessary.” The joke fell flatly out of his mouth, which wasn’t all that surprising given he was barely trying for humor.
Thankfully, Remi released the librarian before too long. ”Stop apologizing.” Sorry was a meaningless word if people didn’t do anything about their guilt—the summoner knew that better than most—and the alchemist, of all people, did more than most. He was here, after all, despite his fear about reentering the manor. ”You knew, though. And there were others. Did any of you ask? Stop by to see how Peter was doing? Maybe offer to help, in any way you could?” Obviously everyone had been quite busy with, well, everything going on, but it wasn’t hard to make a quick visit. The librarian had certainly been making quite a few of those himself, so he knew it was possible. He waved away the other man’s concern. ”I took care of it.” It hadn’t exactly been a threat, and Amalia had been well within her rights to say what she did. The last thing Loren wanted was to create drama between the baker and the alchemist. ”I can actually take care of myself, you know.” The summoner’s tone was bitter and defensive, but at least it was intentional this time: he was trying to deflect attention back to himself.
Apparently the other man’s solution to all their woes was to make tea. Loren shrugged, not willing to argue anymore, and then stooped to pick up his book of children’s stories before leading the way into the kitchen of the manor. A few times, he spotted toys here and there that he paused to collect; by the time they arrived at the cozy room in the center of the manor (it was his favorite in this place, since it lacked the dark coloring and heavy fabrics that Zariah preferred), he had quite the pile. Setting them on a table near the front along with the book, he poured water into the kettle and set it to heat, before glancing around and realizing he didn’t actually know if they had tea or if they did, where they kept it. Sighing, he started throwing open cabinets methodically.
all our lives i watched you search beneath the fallen skies
"Well good. Like I said, I was not planning on it." Remi said with a shake of his head. Had things been different, he might have trailed a finger up the Launceleyn's ribs to indicate just how much spoon-feeding might be necessary, but merely shrugged.
Heaving a sigh, Remi shook his head in soft but firm disagreement. "Not really. Jigano was the only one who knew about it, having been there and he.." Remi looked up at the sky and closed his eyes. Why was nothing ever simple. "..it was a strange time for him. By the time the official notice went up, you were already back." The alchemist said, lowering his gaze with a sigh. "And there was Peter. I think from everyone's view point, they did not need checking up on." Scrubbing at his eyes, Remi bit the inside of his lip, finding that not for the first time, words were failing him. No one knew Edy died. No one knew about Jace. Beatrix isn't an active character. "You are right, Loren. We should have checked. but..It was not that anyone was taking it out on the children, so much as we were too wrapped up in our own lives." Someone less charitable might have simply said that Bea and Jace weren't anyone's problem but the Launceleyns and that no one owed them anything regardless of their last name.
That the threat would go undescribed made Remi pause unhappily. He fixed Loren with a look equal parts disappointment and concern, the muscles of his jaw feathering, but said nothing, knowing there'd be nothing he could do to pry the information from the stubborn summoner. "Mmm." The alchemist hummed softly. "But you do not always need to." He said gently. "Why come back just to continue to do life alone?" It was likely a push too far, but Remi felt it needed saying. That he could take care of himself did not mean he always needed to.
Once upon a time Remi might have been baffled and touched to see the former-librarian collecting the toys of his wards. Without his memories though, he merely frowned softly, interpreting the constant tidying as a way of avoiding being forced to still and relax.
Leaning against the counter, the alchemist created a small dish filled with tea leaves. They smelled faintly of sweetened mint and spice. "Loren." He prompted, sliding the dish towards the summoner with a hint of a smile.
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
09-03-2019, 03:52 PM (This post was last modified: 09-03-2019, 03:52 PM by Loren.)
LOREN
Those were all very very convenient excuses. They were also just that: excuses. But Loren couldn’t fault anyone else for abandoning his family, given that he’d been the first to do so. Sighing, he rubbed his eyes, then met Remi’s gaze with a tired expression. ”I understand. And I guess it doesn’t matter now. I’ve been taking care of them all as best I can.” It wasn’t good enough, but given that the children were avoiding him there wasn’t much more he could do. He left food out and cleaned up their messes and just prayed to gods that didn't listen that it would be enough for now. As for Peter, well, the man was practically a ghost, and the summoner just had to hope the adopted Launceleyn could fend for himself. And that one day he'd come out of his shell, as Loren had once upon a time (though nowadays he found himself retreating back into it).
As the alchemist explained that the librarian didn’t need to do everything on his own, he looked away. It hadn’t been the first time he’d heard that sentiment and it most certainly wouldn’t be the last. ”But I should handle what I can on my own on my own. And I just told you I live with three other people. So I’m hardly alone.” Of course, he never saw the other three—it was a big house, with far too many rooms to hide in, not even including the hidden doors—but Remi didn’t know that. And mostly the summoner enjoyed the solitude, given that he’d never really loved being around other people. That much hadn't changed during his time away. ”I came back because it was the right thing to do.” Even if it had hurt, that much was true.
When his name fell from the other man’s lips, Loren glanced up. Picking up the dish sent his way, he dumped the tea leaves in the kettle to steep then leaned against a nearby counter, having conveniently placed a table between himself and the alchemist. It would take some time for the water to heat and the tea to be ready, so the librarian just looked around the kitchen, eyes resting on the various things that needed his attention in the room. Anywhere except Remi.
all our lives i watched you search beneath the fallen skies
"Oh you should, mmmm." Remi hummed with quiet skepticism. Pale eyes fell upon the Launceleyn as he mentioned the three he lived with (the child without an account, the unactive other child, and the man just described as a ghost) and frowned. "You can be alone even when others are around." He reminded Loren, knowing the feeling quite intimately, and having a good idea that the summoner knew it too.
"That is one of the reasons Ronin is upset with you. That right there." Folding his arms on the table and leaning against it, he shot the summoner a withering look. "The right thing. Not because you missed—" Now it was Remi's turn to stumble over words he couldn't say. "—him, or your family. But because it was the right thing to do. You make—" Again the pause. The desire to say us, but swallowing the word at the last minute. "—it all sound like an obligation."
The scent of the tea filled the air and as Remi breathed it in, somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered if this was meant to be familiar. Had the pair drank tea before while they worked? While they talked?
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
This really wasn’t a topic that Loren wanted to get into with Remi, so the librarian shrugged. ”I have all those other people I’ve been seeing, remember?” Hopefully the deflection would serve its purpose, and the alchemist would drop the topic. Given how persistent the other man was, the summoner didn’t have much hope of that.
However, there was absolutely no way to avoid the next statement that came from the alchemist. Startled, Loren finally turned to look at Remi. ”Of course I missed you!” The shocked and hurt tone in the librarian’s voice left no doubt about that. ”You, and Ronin, and, and, and everyone else. But...I was the one who wronged you. All of you. I hurt you all so...so badly. So...I...I, I don’t know. I thought that missing you was selfish, after everything I did. Or failed to do. That I didn't deserve to feel that way. Which...I...it wasn't right to say anything about it, because it was all my fault.” Hugging himself, the summoner looked away so the other man couldn’t see the tears once again forming in the Launceleyn’s eyes. ”I’m sorry.” It was too little, too late, and it always would be.
all our lives i watched you search beneath the fallen skies
"Ahh yes. All the other people." Remi said, forcing a smile and shaking his head fondly at the Launceleyn as they both seemed to silently agree to let the matter slip away.
Colour flushed brilliantly across Remi's cheeks—heat too—as he gave Loren an uncertain look. Pinpoints of blue sparkled brightly from Loren's eyes and the alchemist was suddenly reminded of all the various shades of blue paint still sitting in his shop. Biting the inside of his cheek to keep his face from doing anything it shouldn't, Remi did his best to pull in a subtle breath even though his lungs demanded a full gasp of air.
"Did you tell him that?" Remi asked, his boyishly uncertain and far-too trusting gaze adding, did you tell me?. One of the alchemist's fingers slid out from beneath his elbow as if he might somehow reach across to Loren. There was too much distance of course, and not simply because of the length of the table, and so Remi's fingers tapped softly but uselessly against the wood.
"You left, Edy said it was with someone and I think we all just thought..." Pulling his hand back, Remi ruffled it through his curls. "But when you came back it was..cold, Loren. Ronin said you laughed when he told you Vanya died." There was no animosity in Remi's too-pale stare, but there was a sorrow-filled uncompromising honesty. Loren had asked what it was he should do, but the alchemist couldn't begin to answer that until the man knew what it was he had already done.
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
The tears fell, and Loren shook his head. ”No. No I-I didn’t. I was trying…” Honestly, he couldn’t say what he was trying to do. Protect Ronin, protect himself, it all seemed so silly now. ”I...I just assumed he would never forgive me, never want to forgive me, and...I just wanted him to find out I was back from me. I wanted to make it easy for him. I didn’t…d-didn’t expect him to…” The sentences and thoughts were mostly incomplete, punctuated by nearly silent sobs. He flinched when the alchemist said the summoner’s return had been cold and brought up how inappropriately he’d responded to the king’s recounting of the previous year. ”He told me...everything. The explosion, the coming back to life, everything, and, and it was so much...I got hysterical. I didn’t mean to laugh, and I felt awful, after, and I apologized immediately, but obviously it was too late.” As always, Loren’s timing was awful.
Slumping against the counter that he’d been leaning against, needing the extra support, he closed his eyes. ”I really fucked this up, didn’t I?”
all our lives i watched you search beneath the fallen skies
As silently and un-intimidatingly as he could manage, Remi moved around the table so that he was on the side perpendicular to Loren. There was still the corner and a foot or two of space between the two men, and it took all the alchemist had not to engulf the distance completely. The desire to wrap Loren in wings and arms was strong enough that feathers had sprouted across the alchemist's back as fledgling manitcore wings shifted the topography of his skin and pressed against his shirt.
"The blight did not help his reaction, I know that much. But nor did your explanation." Remi added, fingers that were nearly more feather than flesh moving in small circles on the tabletop as Loren slumped forward.
"Yes, I think you did." Remi agreed with a crooked smile, his tone still soft as he gazed down calmly at Loren. "But that does not mean all is lost. "
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Loren found himself sliding down the counter until he was sitting on the floor. Drawing his legs to his chest and hugging them, he rested his chin on his knees, trying to get his tears under some semblance of control. ”I know. I...tried to make it right, but I didn’t know what to say and I guess just assumed I’d ruined what little chance I had.” So maybe he hadn’t tried that hard. Opening his eyes at Remi’s next comment, the librarian looked up at the alchemist with pathetic hope. ”It doesn’t?” From where the summoner was sitting, he didn’t see a way forward from here.
09-03-2019, 06:18 PM (This post was last modified: 09-03-2019, 06:18 PM by Remi.)
all our lives i watched you search beneath the fallen skies
"All you ruined was Ronin's nap." The alchemist said, sighing as he looked down at Loren. Crouching down in front of the summoner, Remi clasped his hands loosely in an effort to keep them to himself. Closing his eyes he pressed his knuckles against his forehead and took a breath. This act of restraint of course came at a price, as wings sprouted and unfurled from his back, his magic easily making way for them. It was an absurd tableau to be sure: the shattered-eyed alchemist with wings of muted ochre, too broken to be an angel, but as persistent as you might expect one to be. And then the summoner with the power to call forth anything he might dream of, crumpled and collapsed, unable to call forth the things he really needed: the ability to forgive himself, to trust, to accept he could make mistakes and not be abandoned.
"No." Remi replied, letting his hands slip between his knees as he balanced easily on the balls of his feet, lest they move to wipe away the summoners tears. "There is little to be done about Ronin right now, but that has nothing to do with you."
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
At the mention of Ronin’s nap, Loren barked out a startled laugh. However, he immediately clamped his mouth shut. ”Sorry.” His voice came out softly, an almost broken whisper. As Remi knelt down, wings spreading from his back to encircle them, the summoner eyed the alchemist warily; however, the Launceleyn remained where he was, curled up into himself.
It was too late to mend fences with the king after all, despite what the alchemist had said earlier. At least, there’d be no way to make up for how terribly Loren had acted during their reunion until Ronin was well again. But there were so many others to make amends with, including the man balanced precariously in front of the summoner. ”So...what is there to be done?” He swallowed, barely able to speak past the lump in his throat.
all our lives i watched you search beneath the fallen skies
Remi only grinned darkly in response, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "He does not sleep anymore anyhow, so it hardly matters." He said with a slight shake of his head, as if to erase the subject from their conversational chalkboard.
Conjuring (or plucking, it was always hard to know), a feather, Remi twirled it back and forth in his fingers to keep his hands occupied. "Well, there is the tea for one." He said with a sly smile, the scent of the steeping leaves having filled the room now. "There is remembering that this is not Northaven. No one thinks of the Launceleyns as they were. No one knows, really. That Zariah did what she did was one thing, but no one here thinks that because you are family, you are all cut from the same cloth. And three..." The alchemist paused, fixing Loren with a stare. His eyes roamed over the summoner's shiny cheeks, the too-thin face, the tousled hair as he considered. "..you might work on being more honest."
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
