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!
Sam had been wandering for a long while, wishing the alcohol Sunjata had given him (gifted to him out of pity) had any kind of effect on his mind. Being so depressingly sharp in his thinking had lead him down a long, dark road as he walked to nowhere in particular; The road inevitably ended in him hating himself and everything he'd ever done.
He couldn't seem to keep or maintain, or even begin, a relationship, no matter how he tried.
He was too scared of one half of a prior failed relationship to do the work for his Goddess.
He had two sisters, both of which he could describe his relationship with as an uncomfortable shrug.
He seemed to swing wildly from confidence to crippling self-hatred with no indication of what was to come.
He was 27 years old and still burst into tears at the slightest of overwhelming emotion.
These thoughts haunting his mind endlessly, his walk had been punctuated by a lot of sighs, staring up at the sky (purple, orange, then to dark blue - black, back to the orange of the morning, not so much sun he had to worry yet) and crushing various things he picked up in his hand. Little clay rocks, blades of grass, anything he could idly pick at.
That he ended up at the Spire wasn't all that surprising, he supposed. It was the start of all the problems, if he thought about it; it had been here he had made his first big brave move, had come to try and free The Core, had put himself in harms way. The first hint of boldness in his spirit, the first straw of the many that now threatened to break his back. Staring up at the obelisk-like black tower he felt like screaming at it, demanding it give him any kind of competence along with all that confidence.
Instead of screaming though, he only slowly laid down on the grass in it's shadow and stared up at it. In the grass, hair and clothes a mess, stains from whiskey choked down his shirt, he looked like an absolute mess. In that moment he allowed himself to feel absolutely sorry for himself (moreso than usual) and let out a small 'Fuck this.' as if it would somehow impress the world with his act of rebellion.
Considering the number of times Loren found himself having to return to the Hollowed Ground, he probably should’ve put together a list. Today, he’d realized he’d left a few notes in the library in the Manor. So he’d gotten up early, well before the sun rose, then made the long journey from the Citadel to the Fangs.
Ditching his cloak with the guards there, he shivered until he stepped through the portal. Then the heat punched him and he started sweating almost immediately. Well used to the temperature fluctuation by now, he just made his way up the steps, blinking in the slightly lighter outside.
He was about to head towards the Manor when a soft sound caught his ear. Making his way towards it, he was surprised to stumble upon Samuel. The healer's eyes took in the redhead's disheveled appearance. "Long night." It wasn't a question. Standing over the other man, the Launceleyn raised his eyebrows. "Everything alright?"
The sky's pretty colour felt mocking to Sam in the moment, as if it were purposefully looking nice just to make him feel more like a mess; he was about to cover his eyes when he heard footsteps and then before he knew it, an increasingly familiar face was in his view. After one gasp of surprise he settled back down into his melancholy, especially after Loren's accurate assessment of his situation.
"Yes. And...well. No. Nothing is alright, actually. But there's not much anyone can do, so I'm...just waiting to see if the Spire might fall over on me." He announced dramatically, opening up his hands, fingers splayed and palms facing the sky, as if daring the structure to tip over on top of him.
Turning to stare at the Spire, Loren shrugged. ”You might be waiting for a while. We stabilized it pretty well.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a flask filled with hard liquor and took a swig, then sat in the grass beside Samuel. The healer held out the flask for the redhead. "Got some poison here, if you'd prefer to go that route." It was a weak joke and a weaker offer.
Not looking at the other man, the Launceleyn pulled his knees up to his chest. "Do you want to talk about it?" It came out softly and tentatively, seeing as he almost never preferred to talk about his problems.
"Mmmmmm." Responded Sam, defeatedly flopping his hands down as if he'd ever thought there was actually a chance of the Spire giving him his last moments. Idly he watched Loren sit down, take a drag from his flask, once again felt a sting of jealousy for those that could dull their mind's questions with something as simple as a drink. Loren's joke made his lips twitch with a smile, though ultimately his miserableness won out: "I think poison would work just as well as alcohol on me."
Sam wasn't sure what to expect from the man sitting next to him, but it certainly wasn't an offer to talk about it. For a moment he had a refusal on his lips, thinking the subject matter far too embarrassing...but he was already laid on the ground in the middle of nowhere, swearing at the sky. Perhaps it was worth it to let it out - and after all, the Launceleyn seemed like he was hard to shock.
"Well...I just...I just made a huge fool of myself. I went to the new bar, the VlamVoed...because I wanted..um..well, I wanted to find a man...for the night." He hoped Loren would fill in the blanks for him, because he couldn't bring himself to give any more licentious details. "I just...wanted to feel desirable. Normal. For one night. But I looked like an idiot and he rejected me...and you know what makes it worse? It's, it's almost funny, actually--"
Laughing, but not really, he turned to Loren: "It was the man Nate cheated on me with."
When Samuel refused, Loren took another drink from the flask, letting the alcohol burn down his throat. Then he just let it dangle from one hand. "Let's not test that theory." It came out without much inflection.
As the redhead revealed what had been bothering him, the healer sighed. "Sounds rough. I know the impulse. To want to feel...normal. And desirable." Taking yet another long sip, he shrugged. "Sorry it didn't work out the way you were hoping." Leaning back, he lay on the ground next to the other man.
Staring at the sky, Loren laid the flask on his chest, along with his hands. "If it makes you feel better, Frey called me terribly dull recently. Something about wallowing, and that I should find someone to beat me up instead of beating myself up for a change." Turning, he gave Samuel an unamused and sad smile. "I take it you don't do this often? And did you know who it was in advance?"
"Mm. It depends on how things go from here." Sam half-joked; he'd been on the edge of life so many times now that it felt almost unreal, so to make fun of what he was sure was his ultimately inevitable death from suicide (oh thats depressing) was a dark kind of comedy he'd begun to have access to lately.
Loren understood his wants and even more, Frey had called Loren boring? Sam leaned up on his elbow to look at the Launceleyn sideways, blurting out before he had a chance to think: "You? But you're handsome!" As if that meant Loren would automatically be thrilling in all matters romantic or bedroom.
After his outburst he was quite eager to move on, so he laid back down to respond, staring now determinedly at the sky instead of incidentally. "It...was my first time trying it. I didn't know...I only realise once he showed me the bite. I mean, I don't have proof, but..sometimes...you just...know." Sam waved about his hands ineffectually above him, wishing he was better with words.
As Samuel quipped that he was going to wait to see how the conversation went, Loren eyed the redhead a bit warily. Then the healer shrugged. "Well. I will endeavor to not be so boring that you feel the need to kill yourself to get out of the conversation." The joke was as dark as the other man's.
However, at being called handsome, of all things, the Launceleyn couldn't help it. He snorted, then laughed outright at the redhead's compliment, though the sound was far from happy or humorous. "Thanks. But...well. Even if I believed you, and I personally don't think I'm handsome, there's more to being desirable than being handsome." Loren lifted his head to take a long drink. Then he let his head fall back again. "Being wanted. Or, you know, desired." He waved the flask vaguely. "It's in the word itself."
As Samuel tried (and mostly failed to explain) how the encounter had gone down, it was the healer's turn to prop himself up on an elbow. "I guess. How do you...feel about the whole thing?" The question came out awkwardly.
Sam laughed at Loren's joke, dark as it was, finding it almost refreshing to have someone just joke back at him rather than rush to him with concern. It made him feel like Loren was someone that understood, that had been in that place too; only those that had felt the call of suicide could really know how to make fun of it.
That Loren didn't think he was handsome drew a confused look from Sam, but he didn't insist, already embarrassed enough. Still, he couldn't help but ask a further question, thinking Loren was being oddly modest. "Surely you have been desired, though. Even I have, even if I can't seem to keep it, or find it at the moment." He did not speak it, but he thought that surely Abasi must have wanted Loren: maybe that was what Loren had meant, that now the man was dead he was no longer wanted by anyone for more than his face.
How did he feel about it? "Embarrassed. I made a fool of myself. I just...want so badly for Nathaniel to understand how he hurt me, I thought...it's awful, really. Petty and immature. But I thought if I could be with the man he'd chosen over me, he might understand how I felt." Not daring to look Loren in the eyes in case he now considered Sam a scheming rat, he continued to stare up at the Spire. "I...suppose I probably got what I deserved, anyway, for that. Originally, I just wanted to be held for the night, which is an awfully sad thing to say."
Sighing, Loren shrugged. He didn't answer Samuel right away. Instead the healer just laid on his back and stared at the still brightening sky. ”I have. But not often. Not as much as I’ve felt unwanted.” The words came out quietly. They were depressing enough even without the sad tone he said them, and he took a swig from his rapidly emptying flask.
Perhaps the slight buzz of the alcohol made him bold. Or maybe it was simply hearing the desire for human contact from the redhead, one that echoed within the Launceleyn as well. Regardless, he reached out to give the other man's hand a gentle squeeze. "It's not sad at all. It's normal." Releasing Samuel, Loren turned to his side so that he could look at the redhead.
"But I've tried the whole making people feel bad to try and make myself feel better. It doesn't work." Again, Loren spoke softly, and with a great deal of sorrow. His eyes had grown more than a bit haunted and his expression was guilty.
"Mmm..." Sam looked across at Loren and for a moment was gripped by an urge to say something like I'll want you, something ridiculous he didn't even really feel, just for the romance novel moment, yet he resisted. If there was something he'd learnt, it was as Remi put it, that life 'wasn't like one of his stupid books'. Loren was grieving, he was a mess.
The touch of his hand certainly didn't help his mind from abstaining from that sort of direction, though. "...Thank you. For understanding." He whispered thankfully, glad not to find more judgement and condemnation at Loren's lips.
"Then...what does work? How do you make yourself feel better?" Sam asked, leaning up to look at Loren straight now, absolutely enraptured, hoping he would have an answer.
Loren immediately nodded in response to Samuel’s thanks. ”Of course. Any time.” The healer gave the redhead’s hand one last pat.
As the other man asked what helped, however, the Launceleyn sighed. Drinking the last of his flask, he tucked it away. "I don't know, really. It's different for everyone." For a moment, he looked exhausted, a lifetime of tragedy and regret weighing heavily on top of the strain of his recent woes. "For me it's just...trying to do the next right thing, I suppose, whatever that is for me." He shrugged almost apologetically, wishing he had a better answer for Samuel.
Glancing at the redhead, Loren bit his lip. "Now. Are you planning to wait here for the Spire to fall on you all day, or would you like to go get cleaned up?" There was no particular suggestion or inflection as to which course of action he thought was better.
That his question spurred Loren to drink the remaining liquid in his flask was certainly not a good sign and indeed, he did not really have an answer. Sam wasn't sure if he'd really been expecting one, but he still found himself a little disappointed. "Well...then I hope you find that right thing. I'm sure you will." He smiled and moved back, wondering if he'd find his own answer in time.
At the question directed to him, he looked up to the Spire, then to Loren. "I probably should go somewhere else...what do you mean by cleaned up?" After asking he went to kneel then wobble to his feet, looking over his grass stained clothes and dirty hands - he hadn't even noticed.
Loren nodded, though his expression was slightly troubled. ”I’ll let you know if I do. And...if I find a better answer for you." Though his words were uncertain, he gave Samuel a tentative smile, though it didn't reach the healer's eyes.
As the redhead stood up, the Launceleyn did as well, nimble despite the buzz of alcohol in his mind and veins. "Well. Fresh clothes and a shower might be good. Might make you feel better too. " It came out as kindly and politely as he could manage, and he made sure to brush his own clothes free of dirt and grass. He nodded towards the direction of the Settlement and Sanctuary, and gestured for the other man to take the lead.
