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!
Weaver had not seen the Mageglass herself, yet had seen traders with it. Not that he doubted her exactly, but Sam wondered then if it was just a rumour after all. It would not have been the first time that Merchants had lied about the properties of their products - since the material was so rare, it was unlikely many actually knew what it looked like. He wouldn't be able to tell the difference between genuine Mageglass and simple glass himself. "I see."
He gave out a little sigh of relief as she said she had no reason to dislike him based on his Ascension. It seemed far too common nowadays that he ran into people with a strong hatred of his Goddess and his kind. Her question even made him smile, one he was glad to answer. "I do, very much. Though admittedly I suffer less of what people might call the 'negative' effects. A friend of mine once made me a patch that allows me to re-access my nervous system." While he'd recently asked for pain to be turned off, he was still immensely grateful for the gift. "But even if I did have those parts...it's wonderful. Our Goddess is kind and good and has a wonderful vision for the future, and there's a marvellous community in our Ascended family. Also, I can do things like-" Without any warning, Sam turned himself invisible.
He reappeared as she asked her question about oceans, pausing thoughtfully before he answered. "I think there must be. They eventually surround all land, don't they? If you go far enough? I'm...not sure if we'll discover it soon, but there must be one."
It was true that the traders could be lying, she knows. Some of them probably were, which is part of why she wasn’t trading her house away without a little more assurance (granted, she would have the luxury of testing the product). Still though, she is sure it is real. How she is sure is just in the same way Halovians are sure there are dragons despite never seeing one. There were stories of them, of course, people claiming to see them - her mother included - though no real proof. Yet she did not doubt their existence.
She wasn’t holding her breath on ever seeing the real thing, though. His ‘I see’ suggests he wasn’t either.
He smiles at her question, and she’s glad he’s not annoyed that she’s now started asking questions about him. Granted she’d only asked one so far, though she had about a million. Maybe she’d refrain from asking them all...it might depend on how long the sun took to actually set. “The Voice,” she says, half question and half statement as he mentions his goddess. Given the lack of portals, Halo hadn’t exactly been privy to everything going on and as such, the new gods were newer still for Halovians, though she had heard the name at this point and some pieces of the story.
She grins as he turns invisible, reaching out a finger to poke in the air where he’d just been, curious if he was intangible or just invisible. She may or may not actually manage to poke him (what a great way to make friends, Weaver...). “What are her plans, if I may ask?” It is curiosity that drives the question. Weaver may have no love for the gods, but only inasmuch as they have no love for her. She is not a fool as to believe that their plans will not affect her, and it would be nice to have some idea of what might come. The gods will never tell her, and so she will only be able to find out through others willing to tell her. She’s not looking to judge good or bad, but simply to know, because to know is to be better prepared.
He reappears, answering her question about oceans. “You must be right. It’s just so weird to me, but then again, even being here is still weird to me. I never really expected to see anything but mountains and snow. I’ve never been past those mountains, and our Sea of Glass is not quite the same, I suspect.” Her world had been so small for so long, little more than the Citadel and the surrounding area, the occasional trip to the Fangs. How strange for it to be made so much larger.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
"The Voice, yes. Have you...heard of her from someone else? A lot of people tend to disparage her name." There was a genuine sadness in Sam's voice at this, the constant misunderstanding of his Goddess something that regularly frustrated and confused him; a lot of people seemed determined to see her in the worst light they could.
Sam laughed when Weaver reached out to poke him and very much touched his face, prodding the middle of his cheek - it was only a visual effect. He didn't seem to be offended by it. Honest curiosity about The Voice and the abilities she could give was far more welcome than the usual hostility. "Well, I don't know all of them, but one of them is to extend the portals we've already begun to make across all of Caido, so that the continent can be open and unified again. So that people can do things like you have, travelling across from Halo." It was useful to have the example, he thought. "Also, she wants to eliminate pain or suffering from our lives...I used to have a stutter. A very strong one. It...caused me a lot of pain and my self esteem suffered. She helped me to remove it."
The Sea of Glass had been a strange place, frozen and still, not at all like the warm and rolling oceans he'd read about in books. "It's new for all of us." He assured her.
Leaning forward to look at the sky, Sam smiled. "Almost time for the sun to 'fall' into our baskets."
He seems hesitant, maybe even concerned, that she might have heard of The Voice from someone else. Clearly his goddess was important to him, someone that maybe he cared about. She can’t imagine what that is like, and there’s a twinge of jealousy that others know such fondness of and, more to the point, from, a goddess. At least she assumes from, because it’s hard to care for someone who does not care for you (sometimes, anyway). “Only that she was trapped in the Spire for three hundred years...give or take.” Which is the truth, she knows little else of The Voice. She knows little else of the gods in general other than what people say about them, the tales she grew up hearing. Second hand knowledge was all she could ever hope to have.
She is pleased that he only laughs at her antics, seemingly not offended as she does in fact manage to poke a cheek (at least she missed his eye). She is more pleased still that he is willing to talk about his goddess, and she listens without judgment. Weaver isn’t much for hatred, for hostility, except toward those that threaten her or her family. She doesn’t care, otherwise, knowing full well that the best of intentions almost always go awry or that good intentions disguise truth, but she’d be a hypocrite to pretend that that wasn’t true of herself as much as any goddess. It seems a waste to steep in hate.
He mentions the portals, and she nods, adding no more as they had already discussed the portals and she stands by what she said. They are both good and bad, opening the world up to both opportunity and disaster. It is not, by its nature, a particularly bad plan. It’s just really a matter of what they find. The second part is more interesting and perhaps worrisome, and suddenly the existence of the Ascended makes so much more sense. “What is life without pain, though? We feel pain because we also feel love, joy, happiness...to take away one is to diminish the others, is it not? It’s a noble pursuit but...I…” she trails off, brow furrowed, leaving the thought unfinished.
It wasn’t that she didn’t understand the concept, but she cannot imagine how to do so without turning them all into something akin to robots. It is a not a way Weaver wants to live. “I am glad, at least, she was able to help you with your stutter.” That at least is an easy way to remove some suffering, but to remove all? To help it, certainly, but you cannot simply remove it.
The sun is almost at the baskets, and she turns her attention back to them as they wait to ‘catch’ the sun. ”Any idea what to expect from this festival coming up? Clearly I’ve never gone.”
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
"Oh...no, not quite. The Core was trapped in the Spire." Sam corrected, though admittedly he wasn't absolutely sure what the distinction was himself, The Voice being particularly secretive about the actual role of The Core, the divine being he'd had only a glimpse of before running from the Spire injured and scared. How he wished he'd had the strength to stay and look upon what might have been his only chance to see another part of his Goddess.
He had come across her belief several times now, that without pain life was not worth living; he simply could not disagree more. Sam didn't want to get too personal with his explanation, but he still had to reveal some things, looking off beyond Harper as he spoke. "I had a very difficult childhood - my father caused me a lot of pain, physical and emotional. I know pain very well...and I'm glad to live without it now." It had been a novelty for a little while but he had not missed it since he had asked The Voice to remove it from him; life had already been and continued to be hard enough.
As for the festival; watching the sun begin to descend into his basket from the angle he was sat, Sam nodded. "Well, it's usually rather laid back. Drinking and lots of lights - and people exchange gifts." Honestly, he hadn't been many times, scared for many years to brave his social fears for it. "Of course, after what happened at Fiat Lux, people might be a little wary, this year..."
He corrects her, and she is not offended. “Ah, perhaps I misunderstood which of these new gods was being spoken of.” There had definitely been the word goddess, but then again, did gods really follow genders as humans understood the concept? Probably not, she thinks. Or maybe The Core is also a goddess, but it is very hard to tell given their names. Really, they were neither god nor goddess in the gender sense of it, but she couldn’t quite split her brain off from it anyway. “I admit my knowledge of the new gods is vastly limited.” After all, she has no real reason to know much of anything about them, having grown up with no gods and only the tales of the old gods.
He says he is glad to live without pain, and she looks at him for a moment. The look is not unkind, for he has just given her a truth of his past that she imagines it not easy to revisit, but she just cannot quite understand it. “Most of my family is dead. I know pain. But tell me, do you never feel that pain now? When someone close to you dies, do you feel no hurt? Do you have no regrets?” Maybe he doesn’t. Maybe The Voice had perfected her plan in the Ascended, she isn’t sure, and so the questions are genuine. But she is who she is because of the pain she has learned to live with. It does not diminish her, but makes her better.
He explains the festival, though her eyes return to the baskets as they speak. “Well the drinking I can get behind. I did hear that your last festival did not go well, though I did not hear the details.” She doesn’t ask him what those details are, leaving it open ended for him to share or not.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
"Oh, don't worry - I follow The Voice and I know very little of The Core myself." Sam admitted, shrugging. While his natural curious nature wanted to fight it, he had to respect The Voice's tendency towards keeping certain things from them until relevant. It probably kept them safer in the end.
Her question showed he had perhaps not explained everything quite right. Sam shook his head and put a hand to his chest. "No no, I very much feel every kind of emotional pain still. The Voice can only remove the physical - or, at least, I'd only want her to remove that much." Perhaps ironic, from a man whom once had asked for the erasure of difficult memories, but he'd grown since then. "I still grieve, have my heart broken...all of those kinds of pain." Those he would be less happy to let go of.
Speaking of pain.. "Yes. I wasn't there, but...I heard there was a mudslide. Loren, one of the Abandoned, tried to contain it with ice, and the shards...they shot out and hurt a lot of people. Killed some..mainly children." Sam frowned sadly, wishing this was not news he had to relay. "I am sure there will be a lower attendance at the Midnight Gathering as a result. Still, we must continue on...as we always have here."
He admits that he doesn’t know much of The Core, and she takes what he says as a consolation for her mistake. Who does know about The Core, though? Does anyone? “Sometimes I wonder if we know much of anything about any of the gods, or if we just think we do. They are gods, after all.” she says, not suggesting that he doesn’t know his goddess but simply that there was, likely, so much that was kept from them. It was not necessarily a bad thing, though (she is not sure she would want to know all that the gods do).
He goes on to elaborate what he means by pain, and she understands now as he clarifies. Only physical, which makes more sense, though if the exchange is losing the ability to get drunk or aroused, she’s not sure it's worth the tradeoff. But she can see the value in not hurting if your body was bionic. “Ah, I see. That seems to be an easier task, in some ways at least.” It is one thing to change anatomy, to make them something both more and less than human. It is another thing entirely to remove emotional pain.
He continues, filing in the story of the previous festival where Deimos had not offered details (unsurprising, given how little Deimos actually talked). She listens, nodding slightly, remembering the child beneath the blanket in Abasi’s mortuary. It made sense, suddenly, the pieces falling into place. She can’t quite imagine trying to contain a mudslide with ice, but then again, she’s never seen that particular brand of magic at its fullest. Something large enough, thick enough, would maybe work. Clearly though this had not been one of those moments. “It is what Caido demands, learning to continue despite everything.” She may have been trapped in Halo her whole life, but she knows this place well enough to know that.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
"Yes...I would consider myself close to The Voice, yet many of her secrets are still a mystery to me." Sam admitted, though he did not sound particularly downcast about this fact; in actuality he liked that The Voice steadily revealed herself - it made him feel like he was more trusted each time he was given new information.
He was glad she understood what he meant now; it would be a horrible thing indeed if new people arriving in the Ground began to believe that the followers of the Voice were all without any kind of emotion. They were already accused of all kinds of things - he could not imagine the venom that particular element would add.
Nodding at her words on Caido, wishing they weren't true, Sam looked to their baskets, where the sun was now touching the rims. "Well, there we are. The sun is being captured. ...Thank you, for sitting with me." Her open mindedness had been refreshing, in the larger context of his constant having to argue for his right to exist.
02-03-2020, 09:39 PM (This post was last modified: 02-03-2020, 09:40 PM by Weaver.)
She is glad when he responds without sounding downcast, because she definitely didn’t intend to make him feel that way. Thankfully he seems to get her point, simply that they don’t really know the gods. They are not gods themselves, after all, and it wasn’t a bad thing not to know their minds necessarily, just a fact. ”Well, I’m sure you know more than I do, at any rate,” she says, voice lighthearted, because she’s used to masking the bitterness she feels toward the gods and their longstanding grudge against all Abandoned.
It seemed to her that the smartest thing they could do is befriend the Abandoned rather than outcast them, to bring them closer rather than give them a reason to want to rebel again. Not that Weaver had grand plans to lead a rebellion against the gods here, but rather, it just seemed to her that eventually it would make more sense to stop blaming a bunch of kids for the mistakes of ancestors they would never even know. Weaver didn’t pick what she was, she simply was it.
They catch the sun for a moment, before its’ light begins to creep lower beneath the rim of the baskets. ”Guess I should take my bit of sun and let you enjoy your evening. Thanks for tolerating me.” Weaver stands, grabbing her basket from the wall before turning back to him. ”See you around, Samuel. Maybe in Halo, yea? I’d love to meet your partner.” And with that, she makes her way into the night, leaving him to do the same.
(finished)
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
