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!
Amun wasn't upset with him for using his magic to get the paintbrush back, which was good. That didn't mean he was completely happy, seeing as he immediately lurched back when Oliver asked about the painting. "Carry on then." He turned his eyes back towards his own work, but kept an ear out for any new sounds, just in case Amun happened to drop the brush again. He wasn't sure what had gotten into the man, but Fiat Lux had fucked up a lot of people and he wasn't about to judge Amun for being extra jumpy or something.
It wasn't long before Amun started questioning him as well. Looking at the basket, it was...well, okay? Obviously, he had never made a basket before, so it was far from being perfectly round nor smooth, but it was at least holding its shape and could probably carry something light within it. Good thing that the sun is extra light!
"I think it's coming along pretty well, if you ask me. I mean....it's kinda shitty, but hey! First time for everything." He offered Amun a faint smile, almost as though he were welcoming the man over to join him. "You can still join me if you'd like? Or you could always make something new."
I JUST WANT MY EXISTENCE TO BE MORE THAN TREMBLING
Amun shrugged. ”Looks good to me.” Again, his voice was detached and a little disinterested, as if his mouth was moving automatically without really getting input from his mind.
At Oliver's repeated suggestion that the potter join the other man, however, the Ascended looked down. Subconsciously, he began to rub his right wrist. "I appreciate it, but when I said I can't, I meant that I can't." He waved the prosthetic. "I lost my dominant hand. The prosthetic isn't functional or flexible enough to make anything. My left hand might get there in time, but right now I can't do anything that requires dexterity." The admission was low, without much anger or sorrow or much of anything at all really.
Oliver was about to begin working on his basket once more, content with the response given to him by Amun, when the man continued speaking...and he stopped. His hands pushed the basket away and Oliver turned to look at Amun, giving the man all of his attention. He wasn't sure what all Amun was about to tell him, but the tone of voice alone was enough to make Oliver get serious. This was something important and Amun deserved an immense amount of respect during this time.
And what he heard shattered him. While he was trying his best to not have feelings for Amun, he couldn't help but be worried and saddened. Amun had been an absolute dick, but he didn't deserve to be permanently hurt because of this.
Swallowing hard and taking a deep breath, Oliver tried to maintain eye contact with Amun, if the man would allow it and look towards him. "Amun...can you sit with me for a bit?" If the man would sit down, great, but Oliver would speak no matter what his decision was. Allowing the man time to sit down if he chose, Oliver waited before speaking once more.
"I'm sorry...a lot of your injury is my fault...and I want to help you where possible...you are so strong Amun and I know that you can overcome this... and I'm sorry for being insensitive or not asking if you were okay." There was a lot to say and he couldn't properly convey it, forcing himself to let out a jumbled up mess of words. "There's still so much to do and I know you're going to do great things...and I'll be here to help you if you ever need anything."
I JUST WANT MY EXISTENCE TO BE MORE THAN TREMBLING
At Oliver's question, Amun shrugged. Still, he walked forward and sat next to the other man without complaint. Or any words. Or any sign of the potter's thoughts, really.
For a long moment after Oliver finished speaking, the Ascended was silent. When he did finally speak, there wasn't much inflection in his voice. "So you sent the mud monster, then?" Turning to face the other man more fully, he crossed his arms. "Don't take responsibility for things that aren't your fault."
Then his eyes narrowed. "Technically the only thing I need I can receive from my goddess. As for what I want? Well, a new hand would be nice, but I don't think you can supply that."
Oliver couldn't maintain eyecontact with Amun, leading him to look just off to the side of his face or at his nose or anything that wasn't his eyes. It was a childish thing to do, but he couldn't help it. His feelings for Amun were conflicting. On one end, he was mad that he had fallen for a flirt, fallen for a man who wanted little to do with him. But he also was worried about Amun and he felt bad for not being able to save him. "I may not have sent the monster...but it was my weakness that prevented us from saving him...and I-....I ran away..." Oliver then completely turned his head to the side, incapable of even acknowledging Amun's existence. He fully expected to be punched in the face, which he probably deserved.
"I wish I could give you a new hand. I wish I could do something to help you...maybe we could...make you a new one? One that moves based on magic. It reads your thoughts and then it does what your mind commands it to do..." The idea seemed possible, but it obviously wouldn't come from the Voice. The Voice was already incapable of saving Amun, which was a pretty shitty thing to do seeing as Amun practically praised her. The Voice just kept doing shitty things. She brought the blight and she was incapable of saving one of her precious little Ascended children. Sounds like she doesn't actually care about them.
I JUST WANT MY EXISTENCE TO BE MORE THAN TREMBLING
Amun rolled his eyes. ”So Sunjata, Phoebe, that asshole stick in the mud Launceleyn and even Frey are all weaklings too? Because last I check, none of them stopped the mud monster from reaching the festival either” Crossing his arms, he gave Oliver a pointed look. ”Stop pitying yourself. It’s uncalled for and unattractive.” Unfortunately, there was more than a bit of scorn in the Ascended’s voice.
At the other man’s suggestion, the potter spread his hands. Well, hand and prosthetic. ”How? I went to Deimos, and this is what he gave me. So if you have a better suggestion, I’m all ears.” Tilting his head, he stared steadily at Oliver, eyes boring into the other man.
There is a small growl almost towards Amun. Of course he was completely misunderstanding what he was trying to say. This was only slightly better than a punch straight to the face. "Did I say anything about them? No. What I said was that I ran away like a fucking coward. I haven't been training nearly enough. Maybe if I actually put in some effort to actually do something, then the monster might've been stopped. You weren't there, Amun. You have absolutely no fucking idea what went down." How every single one of his attacks missed. How useless he was to the entire fight. How he abandoned his friends. "And why the fuck should I care about you thinking I look 'unattractive." He made his voice ever so slightly higher pitched at the unattractive part. Hell, why should he even care what Amun thought of him? Last he checked, Amun didn't even find him to be attractive at all. They may have done something once, but Amun had made hit clear he had zero interest in him, so why the fuck did he just throw that in?
The blonde lets out a sigh and rolls his eyes. "Did Deimos actually infuse it with magic? Or is it just a fake hand?" That implied that Deimos had chopped of his hand and...yeah, that's disgusting as fuck. "Also. Why didn't your precious little Voice give you a new hand? I thought she was mighty and powerful and helped you guys whenever you were in need."
I JUST WANT MY EXISTENCE TO BE MORE THAN TREMBLING
Amun snorted. ”And you feel oh so bad about that. Which is why you’re here in the Sanctuary instead of at the training grounds.” The sarcasm practically dripped from the words. Holding up his prosthetic he tapped it with a finger. ”You forget how I lost this already? I was there. We all saw the whole thing, or heard the details after it happened.”
Lowering his hand, he gave Oliver an unimpressed look. ”As for attractiveness, well, I guess it doesn’t matter what I think. You might feel differently about what others think, though.” The Ascended shrugged.
At the other man's laugh, the potter smirked, the expression ugly. "He did not. And probably the same reason your precious little Safrin didn't come down to smite the monster for you." Leaning forward, he lowered his voice to a dangerous whisper. "Because we're not worthy, for some reason, of their precious time and attention."
That...was something Oliver couldn't really think of a good response to. Amun did have a point, that he probably should be training properly rather than moping around here. "Once I feel calm and not like I'm going to accidentally hurt myself, I'll go to the training ground. That way I wont have to waste your time anymore." He practically spat out the last part, annoyed that every single time he and Amun spoke now, he just had to be treated like absolute shit. To think, he actually thought he was once attracted to the asshole. "You were at the festival, you didn't see anything that went down before the monster made it. I get that you think you're always right, but you're not."
Amun just continued to bother him. Making him feel like he could scream or throw a bucket of paint or something. "Do you really think I give a flying fuck about how I look anymore? Because guess what: I don't." While he did care about feeling attractive to himself, he was starting to care less and less about how other people thought. What was the point? The moment someone liked him, they'd find out he has a wooden dick and then that's it. No point in wasting his time with pleasing others with his looks only to be turned down by a wooden cock.
The last part was what broke him the most. The one that caused him to avert his eyes, staring down at his lap. He wanted to devote himself to Safrin, so show her how dedicated he was...but what if Amun had a point? That the gods didn't actually care about most of them. Oliver knew some of them were cherished and loved...but weren't they a select few? The elite who were handpicked by the gods, the only ones who actually deserved any love and attention. "I don't think we should blame them, Amun. You're right. I'm not worthy of their time. I am worth nothing but that doesn't mean I'll abandon my goddess...and I'm sorry for expecting you to as well." He did feel bad for what he said about the Voice, the comment just slipping out in his fury of anger. The gods only care for those who are helpful and meaningful, but clearly, Oliver and Amun were just two worthless pieces of shit.
I JUST WANT MY EXISTENCE TO BE MORE THAN TREMBLING
Amun smirked, more than a bit cruelly. ”And here I was thinking the point of training was to be able to control yourself in any situation and in any state of mind, not just when you were calm. Silly me.” The words were scornful, yes, but also true. Chuckling mirthlessly, he shook his head. ”Actually, we all know what happened, Oliver. Don’t kid yourself.”
Sweeping his gaze up and down Oliver’s body, the potter quirked an eyebrow. ”Is that so? That’s why your hair is so perfectly styled, then?” He gestured at the other man’s bleached locks.
Rolling his eyes, the Ascended crossed his arms. ”I don’t blame them. But I also don’t think I’m worthless.” His annoyance with this latest bout of pity was evident.
Once more, he felt as though he couldn't respond to everything. He knew that Amun was right, that he should be training, but he wanted to be here...or at least he did, until Amun started to interrogate him, making him feel like absolute shit. Of course, he couldn't say anything to Bastien, seeing as they were both ascendeds and Bastien would probably take Amun's side...which really sucked. Oliver wanted to get along with Amun and he wanted to belong. This place had given him so much joy and he didn't want to lose it all because Amun just wanted to keep arguing with him.
Turning his head away, Oliver could no longer maintain any eye contact. The words said to him would be taken in, but nothing was returned for a while. He had seemingly lost his fighting spirit, his mind drifting off into far distant places. "I...I do it for myself, no one else. Having hair like this makes me happy...but I don't care what others think... not anymore." His voice had quieted down now, there was no longer a bite to his voice or a pep to his spirit. The phoenix had long since died and he was now a pile of ashes, waiting for whatever would come next.
After remaining quiet for a bit, Oliver would soon find his voice, but he wouldn't have much to say. "Why...why do we have to keep fighting? I'm sorry if I did anything to make you want to fight...but I just want us to get along. We can forget about anything that happened in our past... please, let us just be guildmates. Nothing more," That wasn't all he wanted to say, all he wanted to know, which was clear, but he'd much rather stop fighting than get his answers.
I JUST WANT MY EXISTENCE TO BE MORE THAN TREMBLING
At Oliver’s explanation, Amun rolled his eyes. ”Sure.” The doubt in the single word was almost overwhelming.
As the other man seemed to run out of the will to fight, the Ascended just leaned against the wall, almost motionless. ”We keep fighting because you take everything so seriously and so personally.” Strangely enough, the words were almost gentle. ”You need to learn to chill out, and that sometimes, not everything is about you. Like just now, you tried to make what happened at Fiat Lux all about you. It wasn't.” That wasn’t mean or argumentative, just a statement. ”Also, not everyone is going to want you around sometimes, for one reason or another. You can’t take that personally either.”
Finally he shrugged. ”I’m easy to get along with. Just…get less excited about literally everything. Especially the things that don't really matter in the long run.” The words were soft, but genuine.
The words would be taken closely to heart. Even if he was mad at Amun in many ways, he also wanted to be treated properly by him. Oliver still craved that satisfaction of being approved by another human being. It wasn't healthy, not in the slightest, but it's what he wanted more than anything. If it meant shutting up and not being nearly as happy, then well, guess that's what would happen.
"I will...try my best to do all of that." All of that is one way to put it. "I know I talk way, way too much... so I guess getting less excited over things will help." It sucks that Amun was basically telling him to not get happy over small things. Isn't that how your mind stayed healthy? Finding the positive in the littlest of things and letting that carry you forward? Some of this sounded like bad advice, but if it meant getting along with his guildmate and no more fighting then he'd do it. "Sorry for bothering you so much about things and getting happy over stuff... I'll work on it, trust me."
I JUST WANT MY EXISTENCE TO BE MORE THAN TREMBLING
Amun narrowed his eyes at Oliver. ”I’ll believe it when I see it.” Unsurprisingly, the potter didn't really believe the other man's sudden change of heart, nor did the Ascended believe Oliver could change in such a drastic way.
Pushing off the wall, Amun stalked forward. There was a basket in the corner of the Sanctuary already, deposited there by another member of the Artist's Santuary. Reaching out, he snatched it with his left hand, then slid it into the crook of his right elbow. "Good luck with your basket and your drawing." He obviously didn't sound very sincere. With that, he began to make his way towards the exit, intending to go literally anywhere else.
