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!
There was a goal originally for her visit to the Domiciles.
For you see, the woman had yet really established a living arrangement for herself. And as entertaining as it was living with others in the barracks with other new Outlanders like herself- she found that there was a distinct conflict of interest. She liked sleeping in and working on projects. They.. didn't. And you know, that wouldn't bode well for the mostly-independent woman.
And so, she aspired to find somewhere to call home. Perhaps construct a small little shack for herself. Something! But then she discovered something absolutely annoying that simply must be dealt with.
A large pothole that literally was covered by a piece of rotten plywood. She stepped through it as she was walking around, cutting up her leg. Now she had a personal vendetta, and that was what she was working on today. And so, underneath her breath as she approached with some tools and a sealed bucket, she shot an angry look down at the manifestation of the devil itself, a spew of curses! And thus, she started..
It was stupid to be out in the daylight, but Nate was getting cabin fever sitting in the bar. Well, something like cabin fever. It was infuriating, being surrounded by anything he could ever want to drink, and knowing it was useless. So he’d taken a page out of Wessex’s book, and had a thick black cloak covering most of him.
At first he was just wandering, looking for something interesting, when he caught sight of what just might be the ticket. A woman, one he dimly recognizes, maybe standing in the road with a bucket and a toolbox. It could be fun to just sit back and watch her do... whatever it was she had planned, but he liked to be more involved than that.
”Are you fixing the road or soemthing?” The question was dry, but the grin on Nate’s face was fresh. He had been near silent, creeping up behind with the specific goal of making her jump.
There was daylight? So, okay, they had that much of a clue. Daylight. Good. First step.
What day was it? Was the day starting or ending?
They'd gotten lost in the Guildhall again. Not physically; it was fairly hard to do that, actually. But they'd started transcribing a book, copying fading text onto new paper with fresh ink. And the book had been interesting, and they'd stopped copying and started reading and then they'd felt guilty about that and resumed copying (after finishing reading the entire thing) and now...
Now they were nominally heading back to sleep somewhere that wasn't the floor of the Guildhall. They paused when they saw a familiar face - Labs, lobs, LIBBS, that was it - and their brow furrowed at the dark cloak just... hanging there behind her.
Cloak hanging on nothing. Hood up though, so it was hung by the hood? Or... no it had shoes, too. Someone had been very polite to hang their cloak up and take their shoes off, only they'd done it in the middle of the street, where someone could just trip over the stuff. Someone like Libbs! Oh no!
"Libbs! Libbs, don't trip over the cloak! A-and the shoes!"
At first Libbs didn't wholly acknowledge the strange man behind her. In fact, she responded almost automatically, as if her own personal debate finally had an opponent. "Yeah, what's it LOOK like I'm doing? Freakin' lazy bastards put a damn fuckin' board on it and I bet you my fuckin' leg is gonna get infected and.." she just continued grumbling into the pothole, which she was digging and evening out, using a large, rough piece of wood to try and soften the edges of the hole.
In that moment, Quanil spoke. And Libbs lifted her head up. Huh? Cloak? Shoes? She turned her head behind her, and then she screeched like a banshee, tools flying up into the air. As she spasmed to face him, the piece of wood she was using landed, smacking the side of her head, causing some unpronouncable syllables to pass her lips, and she quickly scooted back. "Whoa! Holy- geez. You scared me. Both of ya."
She scratched her head. "Now, anything I can help ya with? Cause unless you all wanna watch tar dry, I ain't doin' much.."
Okay, she was still a little salty. Just a little bit. Like Ritz-Cracker level salty.
Quanil flinched at the scream and instinctively started to run towards her to comfort her... and barely missed getting a hammer to the head as it fell after its impromptu flight. "Sorry. Sorry, I didn' mean to," they said, bending to pick up thrown... flying...? flown? ...scattered tools. "But it's just that someone hung their cloak in the middle of the street! And put their shoes there, too. Maybe we should try to find who they belong to, 'cause maybe they actually put them in an entryway like you should do and the cloak and shoes wandered off." That actually made much more sense than someone having put them in the street to begin with. Quanil peered at the cloak and shoes. "Bad cloak! Bad shoes! Go back to your owner!" They tried to wag a disapproving finger the way their mother would have done, but that just made them drop some of the tools they'd been picking up, and they resumed that task rather than continue to scold the naughty wandering clothes.
"Your legs not going to get infected." Nate chuckles, surprised by the immediately vehemence of her response. But before he can follow it up with 'Because you're talking to the best doctor in this place' there's a voice from behind them. Honestly, he jumps a little too, but the woman really goes above and beyond, scattering her tools around in a panic.
This was the dumbest misunderstanding he'd ever been a part of, and Nate couldn't help the laughter that roared out of him, despite the tools he'd been hit with. He turned, still laughing, to face the other stranger. "I'm a bit more than a cloak and shoes." He offered. "So... mission accomplished? Owner found." Nate, notably, did not make any effort to pick up the scattered tools, choosing instead to just stand and watch.
"You're gonna patch the road for real?" Nate cocked his head, a brow raised curiously. "Seems like a lot of wood for one person."
Their first sleep-muddled thought was THE CLOAK LAUGHS but reality grabbed slightly firmer hold then, which certainly everyone would appreciate and no one more so than Quanil themselves.
"OH. 's an actual person in there. Why are you all...?" They gestured - almost a flail, really - with both hands in the cloaked-and-shod person's directions. Then they added, quickly, "Sorry, that's rude, I guess. I'm sorry, I just... need to sleep at some point. Who are you? Are you Libbs's friend? I'm Quanil."
In case anyone wondered: Kwa-neel
