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!
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
For a long moment, Amun was silent. Finally, he slipped a small square out of his pocket, one he’d taken to carrying with him. He placed it onto the skin of his left hand, and ordered it to take the appearance of the crushed and mangled mess that had been his right hand.
While he’d still had it, of course.
”Technically, Deimos chopped it off and made me a prosthetic.” His eyes flicked to the weights that Rexanna had made, though that was all the acknowledgment he gave to them, and he didn’t resume weaving. ”But that's not what you're asking."
He shrugged. "It got crushed by some ice at Fiat Lux. I went to the Temple to ask The Voice to heal me, and got caught up in Ronin's rampage, which probably didn't help with the injury. It quickly became apparent that it wasn't healing. So I had it lopped off." Taking off the patch, he slid it back into his pocket. Only then did he resume weaving the strands back together to the best of his ability.
She remains quiet for as long as he does – a silent support that she didn’t want to force him into talking if he didn’t want to. So when he moves, her gaze flits back to him from the basket she weaves, following the patch as he places it on his hand, and the appearance takes on what his hand had looked like. And she frowns to the mangled mess it had been – how terrible it must have been to look down at it.
She’s thankful she didn’t see what she looked like when she returned from LongNight, if the mangled mess of his hand is any indication. And she nods when he tells her that Deimos chopped it off – forever thankful for that man and everything he’s done for her in her lives. But she doesn’t comment on it, as he continues on to say that it wasn’t what she was asking about. A nod is given to him at that.
And so she listens when he tells her it was crushed by ice, how he’d gone to the Temple to ask the Voice to heal him, and got caught up in what occurred at the Temple. Her frown deepens, nodding in understanding. “She might be able to fix it once the shrine is completed, perhaps?” A quiet question. “If you want that, that is.” She doesn’t know what their goddess has been up to as of late, but she imagines it’s something along the lines of getting the world ready for them while she tries to deal with the fallout of it all.
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
Rexanna listen, and Amun gave her a grateful nod at the end of his story. As she responded, he shifted his hand back to its normal appearance, though he left the square where it was. Then he began weaving again, though his efforts were still sloppy and ineffectual. "Maybe." The word was soft.
Glancing at her very briefly, he shrugged. "She hasn't answered my prayers recently, though. Not just after the Temple" Again, he spoke quietly, though he wasn't bothered by that admission, simply stating fact.
Still keeping at the basket, though his efforts still weren't amounting to much, he found his eyes drifting towards the moon. "How's leadership working out for you?"
Her weaving is starting to take form into the semblance of a basket, and for that she could almost sigh a bit in relief – she doesn’t, as she focuses on Amun and the question poised, of whether the goddess might be able to fix it like she had her eyes, like she had Samuel’s fingers. At least Amun losing his hand was far more likely than their stupidity for going out over LongNight and sticking hands and bodies in places they should not have been.
But the Voice hasn’t answered his prayers yet, and she nods in understanding to that too. “Maybe she’ll come when we finish the shrine and you can ask her then.” She muses thoughtfully. Still, she lets the conversation shift and die as she focuses on his question. “Ah, it hasn’t been so bad. Nobody has started a fight yet in the council, and so far nobody has asked me to step down so I think I’m doing something alright with it.” There’s a hint of a smile along her face.
“Did you want to be the Outlander advisor?” She asks, looking over to him with a dark brow. Wondering if he’d thought about it and pined for it, or whether something had prompted it.
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
"Maybe." There was equal parts doubt and hope in Amun's voice. "But I'm not sure asking in front of everyone else is the right time or place for that." However, the potter's uncertainty was quite apparent.
As Rexanna spoke of her rule and her council, he resumed his fruitless attempts with the weaving. "I'm glad to hear it." He was legitimately glad it was going well for her. At her question, though, he stilled completely. Finally he shrugged. "I thought people needed a choice, and that it would be something I could be good at, hand or no hand. But I'm not upset I didn't get it." He started weaving again. "This way, at least I get to explore."
She nods in understanding, a soft frown deepening along her lips as she inclines her head toward him. She, too, could see how that might be misconstrued, might come off as being greedy or what not. So instead, she focuses her attention on his question of her council, and she can hear him easily when he tells her that he’s glad to hear it. And she is too, that things have been working out okay so far, that things hadn’t started bursting apart at the seams just yet.
But her question is poised and answered soon enough, and she focuses on him as she begins the walls and handles of her basket, nodding in understanding. “I think you would’ve been good at it too.” She says in quiet agreement, that she believes she could rely on Amun as well – but the comment of exploring does raise a brow of her own. “Have you gone to Halo yet?” Because she doesn’t know, and she hasn’t been, and all she’s done is simply meet the Warden of the lands on her own turf.
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
Amun shrugged at Rexanna’s comment. ”Guess we’ll never know.” Continuing at his ineffectual efforts with the weaving, he shot her a quick glance. ”Don’t worry, I’m still going to be nice to newcomers. I'll only scare them a little.” There was a wry amusement in the potter's voice, which was at least an improvement over his previous monotone.
At her question, he shrugged again. "I have. I've seen quite a bit of it, actually. Even built that altar for The Voice up in the Fangs." There was no boasting or pride in the statement, just a matter of fact tone.
He fell silent, trying to will his struggling fingers to braid the strands of straw together without much success. "Have you been there yet? I know you were reluctant due to being Queen and all."
She catches his quick glance with a small amount of amusement. “Keep them on their toes, alright?” She teases him back gently with a light fanged smile sent his way, before a soft breathy laugh leaves her. But she focuses more intently on the answer to the question of Halo, nodding as she smiles over to him despite his matter of fact tone. “Is there snow as far as you can see?” She asks, part of her craving it despite her status here.
When he turns the question onto her, she looks back down to her basket as it becomes mostly formed, shaking her head enough that a few dark locks come loose and fall in front of her face – much of which she tucks back behind her ear. “I haven’t yet. I want to though.” Her head lifts up, looking over to him with a light smile. “I met Neron though. I do like him, I showed him around the Grounds. So I think I might pay him a visit and see Halo for myself.”
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
A faint smirk crossed Amun’s lips at Rexanna’s quip. ”Always.” He nodded in response to her question about snow. ”Yes. Which usually isn’t very far, given that it’s almost constantly snowing.” The joke had a little more life in it than he'd had the whole conversation.
As she revealed that she hadn't been, then went on to say that she'd like too (something he'd suspected given the longing in her voice), he resumed his fruitless efforts with the straw. "Well. As I said I've seen quite a bit of it at this point. So if you'd like an escort, I'd be happy to oblige." Although the basket still didn't take shape, he didn't stop his slow and careful weaving. It gave him a good excuse not to look at her.
“Mmm.” Rexanna hums while she finishes up her basket, a light smile crossing her face as she explains that she hasn’t been. Her head tilts toward him with a brief smile crossing her face as he begins to explain, still not looking at her but focusing on his basket nonetheless – and honestly? She thinks it’s a good attempt. As good as one could be when you had a fake hand, at the very least. So she takes in what he says, offering a fanged grin his direction. “I’d like that.” She tells him – and she really would.
Pausing for a moment, Rexanna puts her finished basket before her, before leaning over toward Amun. “Can I help? Tell me where you want my hands.” She hums playfully, tossing him a wink in an attempt to get him into a lighter mood.
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
Amun nodded slowly after Rexanna agreed to take him up on his offer to show her around Halo. "Just tell me where and when and I'll be there." There wasn't really any excitement or enthusiasm behind the words, but at least he was making an effort. At least it was something he could still do with one hand.
As she then offered to help with his basket, and made a quip, he turned his head to look at her. Sighing, he handed over the straw he'd been working with. "It'll go quicker if you just do it for me. Assuming you don't mind." Seeing as she was the one who'd invited him out here, he didn't care one way or another if his basket was finished.
An effort is all that Rexanna seeks when she asks the question – whether there’s enthusiasm behind it or not doesn’t bother her any. It’s the fact that it might get him to do something, to go out and help whether it just be for her or with her. And his agreeance is something that is met with a wide fanged grin, even if he wasn’t fully into the idea or not.
But she offers him help, instead, when it comes to the basket. And she nods to him easily as he sighs and hands her the straw. “I don’t mind.” She tells him easily, taking the straw and beginning to weave it together – now that she knows how to work with it, it goes a bit quicker, and she can focus on that instead. Soon the base of the basket is made, and she begins to work on the walls. “It’s probably not going to be a great basket, but it’s something.” She comments, shooting him an amused look as she continues.
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
Amun just shrugged. "I'll take something over nothing." While Rexanna worked, he idly played with the prosthetic, trying to get used to shifting the metal joints into various positions. However, it (and the silence) eventually grew more painful.
So he dropped his hands into his lap and alternated at staring across the water and up at the moon. Finally, he spoke, the words soft. "So when you're not queening or Ascendeding, what do you like to do?" He glanced over at her briefly before returning his gaze to the water. "I know you're in the Sanctuary, but I have no idea what type of art you like to make."
She offers her own shrug back to him, a light smile crackling along the corners of her lips. And she continues to work while he focuses on his prosthetic, letting him speak first because she’s not sure what kind of things to ask about that might not result in a ‘one handed’ retort. So she’s quietly thankful when he speaks up, finding that she doesn’t have to sit there and accidentally ask an insensitive question. She continues to work as she thinks over her hobbies.
“Well, I’m a seamstress of sorts.” She begins, working on the walls of the basket. “I like making clothes, transmuting them to make them a bit softer or nicer. And Bastien’s been helping me work on sketches so I might be able to paint with him better than I am now.” A light chime of a laugh leaves her. “And I model for him when he needs ideas or certain specifics he can’t get otherwise.” She adds, lifting her gaze to look at him with a smile along her face.
“Your pottery work is really nice, by the way. I don’t think I’ve told you that before.” She gives him a bright grin to that, turning back to the basket as she works on the handles. And once those are in order, she hands it back to him, gaze flitting along his face to see what he thinks.
