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!
The man who had been - temporarily at least - officiating the wedding had caught Harper's eye. Oliver had mentioned he had been staying at the Launcelyn Manor, and Harper at least knew Loren's name from the meetings he'd attended in his time in Caido. Finding the manor is a little harder, both due to not knowing the area and his own short attention span. But this needs to be done, in the end. He can't continue living off Phoebe's kindness, and his own morals dictate he cannot live with her at all when she is newly married. But before he can move out, well...he needs to find another place to stay.
As much as it bothers him to ask for this sort of thing, to place the burden of his own existence on other people, he has little other choice and an even smaller time frame. Lifting a hand to the solid wooden door, Harper raps against it firmly with his fast, a staccato rhythm that is far more confident than he feels.
The knock echoed through the Manor. Loren was in the kitchen, kneading bread with perhaps a bit more force than was necessary. Dressed in all black except for a white apron, he was spotted with flour basically all over, including one smear on his cheek that stood out all the more due to the dark circles under his eyes. Glancing up at the sound, he sighed, and dusted off his hands. Setting the dough aside, he padded, barefoot, to the front door.
Opening it, he was surprised to find a man he hadn't met before. Leaning one handed on the door, the summoner swept his gaze over the stranger, taking him in with an almost businesslike and clinical efficiency. "How can I help you?" The Launceleyn's voice was cooly polite.
It doesn't take long for an answer, which is surprising considering the size of the place. The man that answers - Loren, which is fitting for who he had been looking for - seems at ease physically despite the businesslike coolness of his voice. Harper gives a small, warm smile, undaunted by the reticence. "I'm looking for Loren, I believe that's you?" Hopefully not a creepy thing to say, but the man had been named multiple times at Wessex's forum. "My name is Harper Quinn, Oliver told me I might find you here." Here he offers his hand to shake, still unsure of what customs have transferred over from his previous realm to here. "Do you have a moment to speak? I'm afraid I have a rather embarrassing request." His grin turns sheepish, still reluctant to even consider foisting himself off on this man but having no other options currently.
and I was thrashing on the line somewhere between desperate and divine
Loren didn't move from his spot by the door. ”That’s me, yes.” When Harper revealed that he was here for a reason, and that he knew Oliver, the summoner's posture and expression both thawed and relaxed a little bit.
He held out a hand for the other man to shake, then realized there was still flour on it. The Lanceleyn waved it a bit apologetically. ”Oh. Sorry. It's nice to meet you, Harper.” Giving Harper a sheepish smile, Loren stepped aside and gestured for the other man to enter the Manor. "Sure. I'd be happy to help. A friend of Oliver's is a friend of mine." It was still more coldly polite than friendly, but it was a bit of an improvement. "What do you need?"
Harper is too kindhearted to hold the Summoner's aloofness against him, especially in the wake of such tragedy that may or may not have impacted him. He becomes all the more human in the moment before they go to clasp hands, the flour that remains only making Harper grin when the man waves it away. "It's nice to meet you as well, though whatever you're baking might steal my interest a bit more." Small talk and poise has never been his manner, but hopefully Loren won't hold that against him too much. He's a creature more suited to friendliness and closeness, bringing others to his breast and keeping them there like a rather cuddly bear.
Entering after Loren he glances around, unsure if he should sit? Stand? Lounge against the nearest decorative pillar and bat his eyes at Loren? So many choices, so little time. "I don't want to keep you too long, so I'll try to be brief. I arrived in the Grounds not long ago, and after healing an injury from my portal in I was staying with Phoebe until I found a place of my own. I haven't been very successful in finding one, but in the wake of her marriage I would like to move out to give her space as a newlywed." His own morals won't allow him to stay, even if it means supporting the midwife as a friend. Marriage to Harper is sacred, and the time after - any kind of honeymoon period really - not one he wants to intrude upon. Here his smile turns a bit desperate, almost awkward. "I know Oliver has been staying here, and I wouldn't in any way want to impose. But I was wondering if perhaps I could stay here - temporarily and not underfoot - while I looked for new lodgings?" Or if Loren has recommendations for abandoned places with better structural integrity, he'll take that too. Walking up to someone's mansion and asking for a place to stay just seems like an asshole move.
and I was thrashing on the line somewhere between desperate and divine
At Harper’s comment, Loren shrugged. ”You’re welcome to help yourself to the pantry. Fewer and fewer people are staying here, but I always keep it fully stocked.” There wasn't any sorrow or anger in his voice, just a dull and exhausted acceptance of facts.
When the other man mentioned he'd been injured, the summoner's eyes narrowed, and he gave Harper a once over. Still, there wasn't really concern or animation behind the look, just a clinical interest. "If you're still injured I can heal you." There wasn't much warmth behind the offer, but it was genuine.
Finally Harper revealed why he'd come here, and the Launceleyn nodded immediately, if a bit distractedly. "You're welcome to stay here indefinitely, or as long as you need to in order to get on your face. As I say to all my houseguests, you'd be doing me a favor." Despite the stilted tone of his voice and lack of any joy, he turned and began to make his way towards the stairs. "The bedrooms are this way."
Harper can't help the flush that takes over his features, suddenly embarrassed by his own teasing being reflected back upon him in such a sincere manner. "Oh no I - thank you that's very kind but -" he sputters, feeling out of his depth. Even with the emotional distance the man is clearly employing, Loren is as kind as everyone else Harper has so far encountered. And every time it takes him by surprise, unused to such selflessness from anyone but himself. As if to further his flustered state, the man offers to heal him, and Harper can't help but automatically reach for his nape in a betrayal of his injuries. The shoulder had healed decently in a sling, but Fiat Lux...he had shielded as many people bodily as he could in the first wave, and it had torn up his back something fierce. "I wouldn't be foolish enough to say no. Thank you, it's quite a gesture to me." He feels the same way as he did when Jigano had healed him, indebted almost. Healing was the greatest gift in his world, where magic was so scarce and usually offensively inclined.
Harper comes to his feet, uncertain and a little surprised by the immediate offer but willing to follow when the man beckons. "I don't want to be unappreciative, or nosey after everything that has happened but...are you alright, Loren?" He tries to swallow his tongue, but it's Harper's way to be gentle, considerate, concerned. To want to heal with his friendship and his support. Both of which he is lacking, here. Unable to span the distance to this man who is an effective stranger still, but wanting to try all the same.
and I was thrashing on the line somewhere between desperate and divine
At Harper’s embarrassed (or whatever) response, Loren shrugged. ”Suit yourself. But I cook in bulk for the whole household, so if you change your mind there’s always food in the kitchen.”
When the other man agreed to healing, the summoner raised a hand. "I'll have to touch you." It was more warning than anything else, and strictly speaking it wasn't true, but unless Harper moved away, the Launceleyn would rest a hand on the other man's shoulder. Then Loren would chase away any cuts, bruises, tears or breaks that lingered from Fiat Lux.
But he'd leave Harper's scars untouched.
Dropping the hand, the summoner turned to head towards the stairs that led up to the bedrooms. Thankfully, his back was to the other man, so Harper couldn't see the way that Loren's eyes grew distant. The other man might've seen the Launceleyn's shoulders tense, though, but it was nearly imperceptible. "No." The admission was quiet, tone dull.
Harper's head bobs in acquiescence, perhaps still a little flustered with how the motion jitters and bounces a tad too much. "Thank you, I'm just...very unaccustomed to such kindness." It's hard to untangle his tongue to admit such a thing, still feeling wrong-footed and humbled in the man's chilled presence. Aware of his own interloper status. Beggar, if he would be frank.
At the man's warning Harper gives a hum of acceptance, going still as a hand descends on his shoulder. Breathing a sigh of relief as pain he hadn't even realized was still lingering dissipates slowly. He doesn't realize he has closed his eyes until they blink open, and moments later is hopping up to follow after Loren as the other man strides down the grand halls. Though he had worried over asking such a blunt question to a man he scarcely knows, the terse answer still makes his heart ache anew. Too empathetic for his own good. He lets silence reign for a few moments, always one to mull over an answer before speaking it if only for the sake of sincerity. "I'm sure you've heard 'I'm sorry' enough times to be sick of it...but I am sorry to hear that." His voice goes soft, scarcely enough to be heard as he wonders what all the man has endured lately to answer in such a way. "Would you...maybe like some company, while you cook? Or would you prefer privacy for now?" The words tumble out without his permission, but he can't just not do anything. Harper knows everyone copes in different ways, will respect whatever the Summoner asks, but as he trails along behind the other man he hopes that maybe he can pay back this kindness in some small way.
and I was thrashing on the line somewhere between desperate and divine
01-18-2020, 04:12 PM (This post was last modified: 01-18-2020, 04:13 PM by Loren.)
The white sheep of the family
Loren studied Harper with tired eyes. "Caido is too cruel a place for us not to be kind to one another." However, the summoner's expression grew haunted. "That doesn't always make it easy for us to do so." With that, he healed the other man without another word.
Then the Launceleyn led Harper up the stairs. It didn't take long to reach the second floor. He began padding down the carpeted hallways, doors on both sides. "You're welcome to join me in the kitchen while I bake, but I'm afraid I'm not very good company right now. And fair warning, others have tried and failed to lift my spirits." With that, he stopped and pushed open a door.
Inside was a bedroom. It wasn't anything fancy, just a bed, a dresser with a washbasin and a mirror on it, and a plain and serviceable desk and table. The windows were shuttered, and he walked over to throw them open, letting in light and the LongHeat, well, heat. "This is yours. Again, you're welcome to stay for as long as you'd like. There's a washroom down the hall. You can use anything in the Manor, but I'd ask that you stay out of the other bedrooms, which are on this floor, for obvious reasons. Besides me, Oliver, Abasi, and Robin are currently staying here." Walking to the doorway, he turned to face Harper. "Any questions?"
"I think that's a brave way of looking at it. Where I came from it was just as harsh, and people eventually resorted to only looking out for themselves. So...thank you, again." He certainly doesn't want to annoy the man with his continued disbelief or gratitude, so Harper lets it drop from there with a cordial nod. It's not really his way to be so polite and reserved, but if it makes Loren feel more comfortable, at least he's achieving something.
"No good company required. Sometimes just having someone around helps ease the burden, I won't stick my nose where you don't want it. I'm probably not even in the right position to try to lift your spirits anyway." He can't help but give a wry laugh, because they've known each other all but a few minutes. "But I'd certainly like to help cook and supply company." Now Loren doesn't need to know that Harper could probably burn water, but he can at least prepare ingredients alongside the man now that they're living together. Mooching off the man's kindness will only make Harper's skin crawl otherwise.
They come to a bedroom, plain but furnished and - once the light is let in - far more homey than Harper has grown used to. There's an informational speech that he tucks away and commits to memory, and at the end he merely smiles warmly and takes a step into the room. "I don't think so. You'll get sick of me hearing it by the end of the season, but thank you." He won't make the man stick around if he's not wanting company, at least it will give him time to start sorting through the room and to get back to Phoebe's to grab the stuff he had packed.
and I was thrashing on the line somewhere between desperate and divine
Loren just shrugged at Harper’s assessment. When the other man offered to just hang out, the summoner shrugged again. ”Whatever you're comfortable with. I just didn't want you to expect something from me I can't give right now." His voice was still muted, but polite enough.
"You're welcome." Stepping back into the hallway, he propped the door open with a foot. "I'll leave you to get settled in then." With that, he nodded at Harper. Then the Launceleyn let the door swing shut. Turning, he began to make his way back downstairs. It didn't take long for him reach the kitchen.
Once there, he resumed his efforts with the bread. He also let the mask slip away, revealing the exhaustion and sorrow he was hiding from the world.
If the other man did decide to seek Loren back, though, the polite mask would snap back into place.
Harper knows far too much of grief, and doesn't hold it against the man to want to keep everyone at arms length. He nods with a quiet hum of understanding. "No expectations," he assures, and leaves it at that. There is a room to explore, a life to start anew, and he lets Loren walk back out into the hallway without interruption. The man has already done far more than Harper expected when he came here to ask for assistance, and he won't force him to stick around and play host when Harper can figure things out from here. So he cracks his knuckles and eyes the room, beginning to plan.
{Fin}
and I was thrashing on the line somewhere between desperate and divine
