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!
She gives him a raised eyebrow at the teasing tone. Fine. So be it. She’d had far better luck with Raza, it seems, who asked the right questions and had a woman’s intuition. Maybe she’d just have to go back to the Hang Man soon. Still, plant seeds, see what blooms.
She laughs at the next bit though. ”Inches. Fine. Make me be specific,” she rolls her eyes at him, though it’s clear she’s not annoyed but simply playing along. ”Granted, I do think I have spectacular thighs.” Which might be an overstatement, because mostly they are just thighs, though there’s clearly muscle in them if you can actually see them. Her pants are loose though and don’t hug anything, so it’s hard to tell currently.
He mentions that she should flick her wrists more next time, and she gives him a nod of understanding. For the moment, she leaves the rod alone, figuring recasting was silly as long as the hook was reasonably far enough into the water. Then he mentions that his sister taught him, and she looks over with understanding in her eyes. ”Do you want to talk about her?” she asks, giving him the space to choose either way.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Saiden smiled at Weaver's laughter and winked at her. "Specificity is key." Tone playful, he let his gaze drift down her body again, settling on her legs. "I imagine you have powerful thighs. But it's hard to tell with all that fabric in the way." Reaching out with his free hand, he plucked at her pants, though his fingers drifted against her thigh as he did.
Glancing out at the buoy, he didn't respond for a long moment. "Keep your voice down. Don't want to scare away the fishes." It came out quietly, as he was instructing her to be as well.
Only then did he look back at her. "She practically raised me, until we were old enough to help raise each other. In fact, all my siblings and I always had to look out for each other, since our parents never really did." He shrugged, eyes sad. "Now she's dead. And the rest of them don't seem to have made it to this world." Tone pained, he returned his gaze to the distant horizon.
She chuckles, shaking her legs slightly so the fabric swings. ”No, this is not very much fabric at all. In Halo you wear layers, and everything is thick and bulky, made of leather and wool and maybe some ningo feathers.” Here she just had on a thin pair of pants. She supposes she could have kept up with the leather, or something a little tighter, but honestly, she likes being comfortable and able to move. Her clothes are loose enough to provide some freedom, but not so loose as to get in the way.
”They can hear us?” she asks, though she keeps her voice low. The idea of fish listening to them has never actually crossed her mind. She begins to imagine an Attuned down there, eavesdropping on conversations with no one the wiser. Well, wouldn’t that be handy?
She listens as he talks of his childhood, and it sounds much like her own. Erebor and Weaver had both been old enough to raise each other when their parents passed, but they’d raised Korbin. And she could never quite stop raising Korbin, even though he no longer needed it. ”Perhaps the rest of your family is okay though?” she asks, looking for a silver lining. She doesn’t know what happened to his old land, but perhaps they were happy somewhere, if not here.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Saiden grinned at Weaver. "Good to know." Cocking his head to one side, he shifted his grip on his fishing rod. "But you're not in Halo anymore, are you?" Winking at her, he laughed softly. "In Torchline we like to show a little more skin." He ran a hand down his bare chest to demonstrate before returning it to the wood.
Arching an eyebrow, he shrugged slightly. "They seem to flee from loud noises. And sound carries underwater." His lips twitched into a smile. "Some of them make sounds of their own. Even singing."
Shaking his head a bit, he sighed. "I have no idea. We were at war, so I'm not holding out much hope. Besides...I heard a rumor that us Outlanders are copies?" He wasn't troubled by that so much as confused. Of course, just then his rod jerked and he instinctively pulled back, wrestling with whatever was on the other end.
She laughs as he runs a hand down his own bare chest. ”Yes, but I would be red as a tomato and that’s just not appealing. At least your imagination gets to run wild this way.” She grins at him impishly, though it is true. Her skin is not used to the sun, and though she leaves her arms bare now, she cannot do so for long periods of time. She keeps a long sleeve shirt in her pack here, just in case she gets stuck outside in the sun for hours.
He talks about the fish, and she looks curious. ”We don’t exactly have water in Halo. Just ice. Lots of ice.” She supposes underneath all that ice is water, but she never got to it. ”Honestly, I’ve never even really gone properly swimming. It’s not like you can in below-freezing temperatures.” Even here, she has avoided more than ankle-deep water. She did not swim in to help the L’ma, she did not join the group and Ludo on the boat or swimming to find him. She stayed on the shore, where there was solid ground beneath her feet.
She shrugs at the mention of copies. ”I don’t really profess to understand what The Voice did to get you here,” she admits. ”But do you feel like a copy? And does it matter? You are you.” She is not trying to be unkind or insensitive, but is really asking. Does it matter? If they have all their memories, if they are still themselves and under their own control, maybe the details are unimportant.
His rod jerks, and he pulls back on the line. She watches, her own line still slack, as he attempts to reel in whatever has decided to take the bait.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Saiden laughed along with Weaver. "And how do you know I don't find tomatoes appealing?" Winking, he smiled at her. Then he cocked his head to one side. "Besides, can't you just heal yourself?" His voice indicated that he wasn't sure of the answer.
Arching an eyebrow, he glanced out at the horizon. "Would you like to learn?" There might've been a slightly suggestive tone to the words, not helped by the way he licked his lips.
Snorting, he shook his head. "I definitely feel like myself." Then the tugging on his line distracted him. He pulled back against it, of course, but physical strength had never been his forte and whatever was on the other line was putting up one hell of a fight.
”I don’t find tomatoes appealing,” she says, because clearly she only actually cares what she thinks in this particular scenario. ”Unless it is to eat,” she says, grin turning a little wicked, knowing exactly what she said. ”And honestly, I don’t know. I guess so? I just discovered this whole healing magic thing.”
He licks his lips at the next comment, and she wonders if he’s hoping for some skinny dipping. To be honest, it didn’t sound like the worst thing she could do today, though really, she actually would like to learn. If she was going to spend some time in Torchline, it would be prudent to learn how to not drown. ”Are you offering to teach?” she asks, clearly interested.
She watches as the line fights back, wondering just what he might have caught on there. He’s got some lovely muscles to look at though as he fights with the line. ”Can I help?” she asks, entirely uncertain how she might be of any use, but feeling pretty useless just standing there with her slack line.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Laughing, Saiden gave Weaver an amused look. "And what if I said you looked good enough to eat?" Arching an eyebrow, he shrugged slightly. "Maybe we should test it out."
Immediately he nodded, his eyes smoldering. "That I am." Smirking a bit, he cocked his head to one side. "Are you offering to let me teach you?" It came out in a slightly flirtatious tone.
Then, though, the fish on the other end of the line took his whole attention. Try and he might, he couldn't pull it in. "Pull your line in, then grab hold of my rod and pull as hard as you can." He was clearly distracted by his struggles.
”I know I do,” she says, confident in a way she probably doesn’t actually deserve to be, but half the battle is just having confidence at all. ”But I haven’t decided if you are good enough to eat…” She doesn’t say look, because he does look good enough. Rather, she simply hasn’t decided if she is willing, or if she might make him come back and work a little harder.
Weaver nods at the next part, because she would actually like to learn how to swim. She would like to not drown, really. ”I am,” she agrees, though her attention shifts to his next statement and she draws the line in quickly as he instructs.
Placing the rod on the ground nearby, Weaver grabs his rod as well and begins to help him pull against whatever is struggling on the other end. ”I would point out the double entendre in this, except there really is something fighting hard against you.” She says with a grunt, throwing her weight back to pull harder.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Laughing at Weaver's comment, Saiden glanced down at himself. "We could test that theory too." It came out in a slightly ridiculous tone, since even he knew that was over the top.
Smiling, he nodded decisively. "Then once I have taught you to fish, I will teach you to swim." Unsurprisingly, he sounded quite excited by that prospect.
As she came to join him in wrestling the fish on the other end of the line, he snorted. "A woman who likes a hard rod is a woman after my own heart." His own response came out in as joking a tone as he could make it. Still, as she pulled, he redoubled his efforts. He also reached out to try and tug the fish or at least the line with his magic.
Whether it was her added strength or his spell, they finally overcame their opponent. Indeed, he found himself stumbling backwards and falling on his ass as a huge tuna positively erupted from the water. It flew in an arc to land on the sand, where it flopped weakly.
Apparently it would be a day of learning for her. To fish, to swim. All things she’d never dreamed of doing only a year prior. Life before the portals opened had been so very different. It had been the sort of life you trudged through, day in and day out. Now though? Now she explored, now she lived. So long as she forgot about the unease between the gods and their followers, it seemed almost too good to be true.
There would be a price for this freedom, she knows. What she doesn’t yet know is what the cost will be.
Weaver stumbles backward as well as the fish finally comes free of the water. She trips over Saiden and lands in a heap beside him. She starts to laugh, looking up in time to see the large fish flopping sadly on the sand. Dinner. ”What did you catch?” she asks, turning her head to Saiden, realizing just how close they are. Her hair is sticky with sand, along with much of the rest of her. She would probably need that swim just to clean off.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Grinning as Weaver plopped into the sand beside him, Saiden rolled onto his side to face her. He didn't mind the sight of her in the slightest, as evidenced by the way his eyes roamed over her body. Nor did he mind his own sweat or the sand coating his skin: they were simply signs of a hard day's work.
At her question, though, he laughed, the sound bright and cheerful. Standing up, he reached down to grab his catch with one hand. He held out the other to her, if she chose to accept his help standing. "This is a tuna. An ahi tuna, to be more specific. Hence the name of the coast."
Weaver props her head up on her elbow, shifting herself so she’s laying on her side facing Saiden. Might as well embrace the sand now, because it’s already everywhere. That seems to be the downfall of the beach. Sand. It really does get everywhere, though she can think of ways to make that even worse. Or maybe better...depends on your take.
”Well, I suppose that makes sense. More importantly, what does it taste like?” Fish is a luxury in Halo, and even if you get it, it’s not really the same. It’s not fresh, though they do get some frozen. Occasionally someone will go ice fishing to see what they can pull from the icy depths, but it’s not the most fruitful endeavour. ”I eat a whole lot of ningo and luxere and not much else, honestly.” Fish was practically exotic.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Grinning at Weaver, Saiden held the fish in both hands. "There's one way to find out." Still holding the fish, he removed the fishhook from its mouth. It still wriggled, gills gasping for air. Seeing this, he took out his knife. With a practiced movement, he brained it with the pommel. As it went limp, he sheathed his blade.
"Never heard of either of those." Peering around, he gestured for her to follow him. There were a few pieces of driftwood, and he began to gather them. As he did, he stacked them back where they'd left the rods. A few were damp, and he removed the water from them as best he could.
