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!
The streets of Haulani filled when the sun set. People were milling back and forth between shops near to closing and market stalls about to gather up for the day. It was difficult to navigate the winding streets at the best of times, and especially so when they were full to bursting with shoving elbows, shouting voices and the laughter of children running back and forth around the legs of their parents, guardians or apprenticeship masters.
Maea felt no more than a child herself at times like these. She was the perfect height to be elbowed in the face or chest by most people, and had already given up her attempts to get to the last of the stalls she wanted to see before returning home. Sore-footed and exhausted from a day spent in the Torchline heat, she stopped on a street corner and set her bag down on the ground beside her feet, desperately in need of stretching her back out.
No sooner had she let go of it, though, than a pair of dirty hands grabbed hold of it. Before she could even react, a filthy street urchin had hauled it away and was running full tilt into the crowd.
"Hey! Give that back!" Maea swore and tore after the kid, far less nimble and definitely not as familiar with the layout of the streets.
Nothing lasts forever, I thought you should know
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
Torchline has become his favorite stomping ground as of late. Though he cannot enjoy the beach during its busiest sunlit hours, it does little to dissuade him. The streets of Torchline perfectly parallel those of his home city, with its depravity and dark underbelly that you'd rather skirt your eyes quickly over to avoid being sucked inside. He spends so much time in the new land that the streets, hidey-holes, and general traffic have imprinted itself into his brain.
Once a street rat, always a street rat.
The pickpockets, after realising he is no easy target, have mostly left him to his own devices. Recognizing in him the same grunge and grit that coats their own souls perhaps. Others however, are not nearly so lucky. Which is what draws his attention as a feminine voice shouts out, drawing his gaze to the commotion. It's familiar enough that people just sidestep the two, not bothering to help one way or the other. Clem vacillates between doing the same or stepping in. It certainly isn't going to be the first person to have something of their jacked today. But he lifts himself with a groan as morality nags at him, stepping smoothly out from the crowd and tripping the runner with a well-placed leg.
It's child's play to snag the woman's stuff before the disoriented child can get back to their feet. Eyes meet, and Clem sneers at the furious youth, waging a silent war with their gazes as Clem flashes his fangs like a feral dog. The kid hesitates, but seeing the woman still advancing clearly decides to find easier prey and goes streaking off. Clemente isn't excited about having to rebuild his cred after this to prove he's no sympathizer with the tourists (as if he himself isn't, but the other street urchins accept him easily as one of their own) but he soothes the grumpiness by turning to the frantic woman and offering up her bag with a put-upon frown. "Y'gotta be way more vigilant with yer shit here lady. Most people ain't gonna step in and help ya." He honestly questions whether he should have either.
Your mother started drinking like the whole world died And You've been waiting for a miracle all your life
She was slightly out of breath as she reached the kid that tripped the thief. Hair tousled, half escaped from its braid, and her face was flushed, as much from the running as from staying in the sun too long. The eyes that raked over the boy were pale, gray or blue or almost purple depending on how she tilted her head... but her smile was wide and gratefu as she reached for the bag, to take it back.
"Well, thank you," she breathed, fairly oozing gratitude. "I'm glad you did, at least. That was very nimble of you, very neat. Is there anything I can do, to make up for your trouble?"
He might be young, but the annoyed expression on his face made the kid seem older than he ought. Very entitled, and rather cute. Sucking in a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart, Maea glanced around. Indeed, no one else had even looked twice at her and the street-rat. A ruthless place, Torchline.
Nothing lasts forever, I thought you should know
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
Clem's flaxen gaze scrapes over the woman's frame, feeling awkward and too tall, wanting to slip away back into the alleys and stalls and away from this smiling girl whose gratitude chafes. He hands over the bag just to get it done and over with, discomfort plain in the jut of his lower lip and the severe crease of how brow. Not that is very intimidating considering his general...himness. But it works.
"I 'unno, nothin' really. Don't need ta eat or drink or anything. Just don't be stupid and make me hafta help again." Despite his harsh words his tone never moves much away from gruff and embarrassed. Adjusting his weight from foot to foot, wanting to scamper off but reminding himself that talking to people was kinda his job for Wessex.
Your mother started drinking like the whole world died And You've been waiting for a miracle all your life
Tilting her head as she accepted the bag, slinging it back over her shoulder, Maea considered the boy. He seemed rather uncomfortable with this whole situation - or was it she who made him feel awkward? - and she took a step back, hoping it would make him feel less crowded. She arched a brow as he told her about his lack of need for things most people would find interesting.
"You're Ascended?" she asked, looking startled. "Even though you're so young?" Something tightened in her throat at the thought. It tasted of anger and pity, of old prejudice not quite put to rest. Maea thought of the contents of her bag, running a mental finger down the list of purchases made to recall if she had anything else that might interest this youth... and came up empty.
"Very well... it seems like I owe you a favor then," she relented. Settling for trading the Torchline way, with open promises of future repayment. "What's your name? I'm Maea Valair, from the Hollowed Ground." She held out a hand, should he wish to shake on it. Half ready to do the spitting thing, should he be invested in local customs.
Nothing lasts forever, I thought you should know
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
Hiked shoulders settle slightly as the woman takes a step away, unconscious in reaction but telling nonetheless. He may be much larger than her, but weight and mass have never been reliable indicators of dangerous individuals. Clem isn't going to start assuming now of all times.
Her shock is like a wash of bitter citrus on his tongue, sharp and burning, and he can't help the way his eyes narrow and his arms come up to cross in front of his chest - a defensive motion more than any kind of intimidation tactic. Clemente has been undoubtedly lucky to have escaped the scrutiny of biased, prejudiced souls. Clearly that luck has finally run out. "Came here this way. Where I came from we were all kinda like this, 'cept we could feel and grow. Prolly just the form that fit me best." Despite the measured tone of his voice (recalling Wessex's words, knowing how important it is for the Ascended to be liked just to keep living) there is a sharpness to his gaze that speaks of distrust.
It relaxes only minutely when she moves on from the topic, arms falling away from his chest as he regards her. A favor? Nodding his head in agreement, he fucks her name away for later, though she's very easy to remember considering her unnatural appearance. "Clemente. But call me Clem. From...wherever," he copies stiltedly, thrusting an awkward hand between them, every inch the uncertain teenager trying to imitate a more sophisticated individual.
Your mother started drinking like the whole world died And You've been waiting for a miracle all your life
He was easy to read, and so was she. While Maea had outgrown that awkward teenage phase a while ago, she was still an open book and had never learned to mask her emotions. Or to wrap up her opinions in a way that was more easy for others to swallow. She noticed the way he first relaxed, then tensed up again at her careless outburst, and she bit her lip, regret and perhaps a bit of shame moving over her expression.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to judge you in any way. It's.. a bad habit. I'm trying to do away with it. Amun keeps scolding me for being prejudiced." Which wasn't to say it always worked, because some things died hard. But at least Maea was aware that her attitude towards the Ascended weren't great? Which meant she could learn to change it. Slowly, but surely.
He took her offered hand, and she shook it with a smile. "Nice to meet you, Clem. And thank you again, for saving my bag. It's pretty much all I own, so losing it would have been a disaster." She would have to learn to look after it better. Couldn't expect to find kind strangers to help her again.
Nothing lasts forever, I thought you should know
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
Clem continues to stare at her, eyes narrowed distrustfully as he tries to gauge whether or not she's telling the truth. Finally he gives a little grunt in the back of his throat, and slowly lowers his arms from their defensive stance. "He's prolly right," he grumbles instead, though there's no ignoring the intense depths of fondness that pool beneath his words, nor the softening of his eyes and small quirk of his lips. Clem loves Amun, and if Amun speaks with this woman regularly, then maybe she's not irredeemable despite her prejudice.
Their handshake is swift and perfunctory, but he manages an awkward smile when she aims one his way. "Yeah, no problem. Jus' keep it tied around ya, that way nobody can snag it without takin' all of ya." Not that Clem thinks that would deter anybody, Maea seems light enough to simply grab and carry off. But the crowds move past them stubbornly, thinning as the hour draws later, and Clem doesn't want to be the reason Maea doesn't get home in time. She seems like the type to accidentally stick her nose into the shadier dealings of Torchline, and Clem certainly won't stick his neck out to save her from that. So instead he shoves his hands awkwardly into his pockets and juts his chin out to gesture down the street. "I gotta get some stuff, and y'shouldn't hang around this late here. I'll see y'around for that favor." Unaware that it would never come to pass. But he gives a genial little smile, more than most people get, and slides back into the darkness between the torches, his one good deed done for the day.
-Fin!
Your mother started drinking like the whole world died And You've been waiting for a miracle all your life
