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!
12-17-2018, 10:58 PM (This post was last modified: 12-17-2018, 10:59 PM by Bastien.)
Praying in Venice had always meant crouching under a statue of Jesus or the Virgin Mary, taking a knee under the gold and finery that marked the space out as that of God. Here, the shrine was nowhere near so fanciful. Bastien could not decide if that meant the Gods must be more powerful or not.
He wasn't even sure if he truly believed in them. But Remi had not seemed the kind to lie and he had claimed to have been cursed by one of the Gods walking among the mortals in this realm. The idea of Gods one could see fascinated Bastien far too much for him to be worried by small issues like curses. He was sure with his charm and wit he would quickly have several new divine friends.
He knelt in front of the shrine. He had chosen to do this early in the morning when there were less people about, hoping that if this failed there would be less eyes to see it. With a deep breath, he began to speak into the air, softly but loud enough to be heard.
"Hello. I am not from here. I do not know if you know me, but..." Bastien paused, unsure of how exactly to talk to a God he felt he actually had a chance of being heard by. "My name is Bastien. If there is someone listening, I would like to see you. I am an artist, I could draw you. Or perhaps you can show me something. This world is lacking in flair, divine or no." He reached into his pocket to pull out the gift he had brought, a couple of painted, small bags holding scraps of food he had taken from the bar. "This is for you."
Placing the bag on the shrine, he wanted to see if anything would happen, feeling both like a stupid child and a powerful messiah.
"Now sugar—" Her voice was both melodic and resonant as it breezed through the temple. Despite the warm rush of daylight sprinkling through the windows, the atmosphere grew dim as if twilight had just fallen. Safrin always did prefer the night.
Appearing as if through some unseen cosmic curtain before Bastien, the goddess leaned sensually against the shrine gazing down upon him with eyes like swirling galaxies in a dress made of stars and dark matter. Her painted lips turned upwards as a smile radiated across her features making her seem both ethereally beautiful and divinely perfect. "I appreciate the sentiment darling, but gifts of rotting flesh and vegetables seems a bit short sighted to offer a being who has no need of such sustenance, no?"
But he was an accepted, and artist and a man, and for that Safrin would overlook this folly. Slinking down the few steps that separated the two, tinkling laughter flowing from her parted lips as she did so. "Stand dear-one. No need to be on your knees yet." With a flourish orbs of moonlight floated around them as two cream coloured pedestals appeared behind for them to sit on. Seating herself and crossing her legs, the goddess leaned forward, her celestial gaze wavering over the man with unconscionable slowness.
"This world certainly is lacking in flair." Safrin agreed, with a stern nod. Then again .. it was a price they had to pay. "Tell me Bastien—" His name like a whispered word from her lips, "—what do you propose to do about it?"
Bastien was deeply surprised to receive an answer, not just in voice but in vision; the woman before him breathtakingly beautiful and not a little bit intimidating. He stumbled his way up (his usual grace forgotten in the face of a real, in the flesh, Goddess). Looking at his gift, he supposed he wouldn't want it either, but he was used to divine forces that didn't complain.
"I apologise, I would have brought coins, but...alas. They seem to not have those here." He shrugged, not sure if those were what such a being would want either. His mind trying to work out several different philosophical puzzles at once, he sat down without objection and tried to memorise the image of her as best as he could. He knew when he left he would be painting a lot of pictures to do with this.
She asked him a question he felt very confident answering, to his delight. With a grin he leaned forward and began to speak, moving with animated hands and an excited glint in his eyes.
"I'm glad you asked. I have many ideas and I do not know where to begin. A theatre or perhaps an Opera house like the Teatro Vendramin di San Salvador. I could take these dull survivors and make them into thriving creators. Tease the creativity out of their bones. Or I could paint myself. Turn the houses into living art with murals. My God -- ah--Goddess?" He laughed at his slip up and shrugged. "I could do so much. Even perform in the streets. Begin festivals, create songs. What is it you would like to see? I have never had a patron from Heaven before."
"No.." Safrin agreed with a delicate shake of her head. From her hand pours a waterfall of golden coins that disappear into star-shine just as they are about to touch the floor. With an aurelian laugh, Safrin shrugged elegantly. "I've not much need for coins either."
One of her eyebrows quirked upwards as the man eagerly leaned forward. She could practically feel the enthusiasm wafting off of him and in return she seemed to radiate untold secrets all the more fiercely. Listening thoughtfully, Safrin tapped her long fingers against her cheekbone, tilting her head slightly and causing a nebula of hair to trickle down her shoulder.
"Safrin." The goddess interrupted as the man fumbled for a suitable word with which to refer to her. Safrin was the only one out of her ilk who by and large remained one gender. Frey vacillated based on what they plucked from the minds of those they interacted with and Ludo? Well. That was altogether hard to define as it was. For her part though, Safrin preferred the female form, and while she would have been perfectly fine being referred to as a god rather than a goddess, she much preferred to hear her own name ringing on the lips of mortals.
"Tease the creativity out of their bones?" Oh how she liked the way that sounded. Tutting slightly, Safrin shook her head and bits of star-shine dusted around her coating the floor in soft luminance. "Darling there is no heaven to speak of here. You are a long way from Venice and from the customs of that world."
Standing up, Safrin all but glided towards where Bastien sat, circling around him like some sort of auspicious predator. Her fingers clasped around the muscles of his shoulders and instantly he would feel all tension and any feelings of anxiety or negativity drain away. Rubbing gently, Safrin hummed thoughtfully to herself. "Now if I am to be a patron of yours, perhaps you might be a patron of mine as well, mmm?"
"Safrin..." He repeated under his breath, thinking it a much nicer name than any of the ones he'd heard for God back home. She was uninterested in coins too but interested in him, it seemed. A passing thought did come to Bastien that this may be dangerous, but it didn't stay long enough to bother him.
Surprised to hear the name of his home city from a being of this world, his eyes widened and he raised his eyebrows. "You know Venice?" Hearing that there was no Heaven did not seem to bother him (he had never believed in anything like that until the last five minutes and was open to having his beliefs corrected). "Do you know if there is a way for me to retur--oh."
He was cut off by his shoulders being massaged, the sensation quite overwhelming. Now this could be dangerous, but Bastien couldn't seem to bring the warning thoughts to mind, leaning back into her touch.
"Of course, bella signora...I have no funds for you but you don't want that anyway, hm? What would you have from me?"
"I know many things." Safrin replied with a mysterious wink. In truth she'd merely plucked the word from the young man's mind, but already the picture of his world was becoming more and more clear the longer she sat before him. Though he projected a particularly biased interpretation via his many thoughts and experiences back on earth, still the deity could form a fairly accurate representation. For her needs anyways.
Slinking one around around his chest to rest upon the opposite shoulder, Safrin leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "Now why would you want to return, dear one? When you have so much potential here?" Her fingers danced their way back across his collar bones and she pulled back to resume gently massaging his muscles. Her hands would feel both warm and cold, a mixture which would delight and relax him further as the goddess smiled secretly behind him.
"How you talk." She chimed brightly basking in his accent, her white smile revealing teeth which were now slightly pointed.
What would she have from him? Why everything of course. But the rewards would be worth it.
"We can speak of opera houses and theatres later...for now perhaps you might just speak of me, if I cross your mind?" And she would be crossing his mind, of that she was certain. "Perhaps this might help?" Before the artist's eyes a pendant would appear. It was a stone perhaps like onyx, but sparkling with colours that seemed to disappear if looked at too long. Indeed if one were to stare they'd find themselves lost in a sea of cosmic movement that could be quite dizzying. At the centre was the etching of an eye in a faded opalescent hue.
Would he accept? Surely it would be rude to refuse a gift from a divine benefactor.
Bastien was pleased to hear praise and reassurances from Safrin - he was finding it hard to string together coherent sentences with her touch on him but he smiled and closed his eyes, let her touch his shoulders and collarbones. It had been a while since he had felt the touch of another and he missed it. The fact that this touch was Divine was only more reason to enjoy it.
"I can say whatever you wish, dea della notte." He did think the voices of the population of Caido were dreadfully flat and dull; no surprise the Goddess would rather hear his accent. He was still thinking over the compliment when Safrin asked her question and he opened his eyes to see the most beautiful jewel before him.
He immediately reached out to take the jewel, entranced by its beautiful colours. Despite his artistic, bohemian image, he had never really been one for jewellry, but he felt an intense desire to own the pendant.
"What would you have me say?" Bastien asked as he turned the jewel this way and that in his hands and observed the way it sparkled.
"Mmm." Safrin hummed under her breath as he spoke, his words like magic to her ears. Whatever she wished? That would come in handy.
Holding the pendant Bastien would feel an immense desire to wear it immediately. In fact, though it looked incredibly sturdy he'd find it shockingly light weight. However when worn it would not bounce around as one would expect of something without substance, but would instead stay close to his skin; a reminder of Safrin's touch.
"I'd not put words your mouth dear one." Safrin said, sliding away from him to return to her pedestal, her movements link black oil in water. Tilting her head slightly, her eyes rained down the artist for a moment as a curious smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Perhaps you might just tell them my name ... There are more like you, who know nothing of me." At once her expression was heart achingly sad, and with an imploring sigh she shrugged her shoulders. Magic wove its way into Bastien's mind, scattering away any thoughts of asking why she simply couldn't appear en masse. That was a slippery subject, and this was such a pleasant encounter that she'd not have the horrible bubble ruining it as well.
Bastien clasped the pendant behind his neck, the stone falling just in the opening of his shirt. It felt unlike anything else he'd ever worn, personal and unique. He laid a hand over it, desiring to keep touching the stone.
"Just your name? I can do that, though I will likely tell them much more. Of your beauty, I mean." He smiled, disappointed as Safrin left his shoulders alone and went back to her seat. "I shall be sure to paint you. I have just the right blue." He'd always loved the night skies, had often climbed up to his roof just to watch the sun rise; it would be a joy to have an excuse to paint it again.
He did not question her wanting him to spread her name, but another question came to mind. "What would your patronage be, though? If I am to spread your name what will you be doing for me? Just the simple gift of inspiration? The pendant? I would, of course, like to tell people of the rewards of praying to you." He came up with the reason to soften his questions, trying to smile warmly towards her.
Lashes fluttering with millennia of untold secrets, the goddess gave the artist a pointed stare. "I am so much more than a pretty..." face, was the way to end that, but in truth Safrin was a pretty everything, and the curve of her brow said as much. "You shall have competition I think. Another budding artist has already captured my likeness rather well." Safrin mused, thinking of Ronin and his charcoal sketch. Though...it was much better after she'd subtly improved it. Still, she'd be happy to see what a practiced artist might do.
Her raised brow suddenly appeared harsher though her features did not seem to have changed. The sides of her lips quirked slightly as she looked down for a moment. When her galactic gaze did rise again, she'd taken on an almost predatory stare as she regarded him in a long silence. "What will I be doing for you." She intoned, her voice suddenly sounding like a wind racing though an empty forest. "The rewards of praying to me." Though she smiled, the goddess seemed anything but pleased.
"Is that all you mortals think of? What we can offer to you. My appearance here, our chat, this gift—" The pendant would begin to pull away from Bastien's chest, and as it did the man would feel a horrific sense of foreboding and longing associated with its loss.
Bastien was content to compliment Safrin on anything she wished from her voice to her intellect, but then it appeared from her silence he had taken his questions a step too far - the pendant began to leave his skin and he felt a loss unlike anything he'd ever known before, even more intense than the death of a loved one. Desperately he held up his hands for her to stop.
"I apologise! I see now you are right, of course." He had never been one to grovel but he did bow his head and put on his most sincere voice. "I ask only for forgiveness and the chance to spread your name. I will shout it from the rooftops if only you can forget the offence." What was surprising to him in the moment was that he meant it. In only a few minutes he had gone from a non-believer to a devotee.
Even after his apology the goddess briefly let the pendant pull away just a hair more, before allowing it to fall feather-soft back down against his chest once more. Though Safrin smiled her eyes remained deep wells of enigmatic darkness.
Then all at once the tension was gone and Safrin was laughing again.
"Well good." She cooed, stretching out one elegant leg and crossing it over the other. "Perhaps once you have done as you've said there truly might come a time you are deserving of a reward." Softly the moon-like orbs at their feet began to rise casting long shadows across the room. "Is there anything else you would ask of me dear one?"
To Bastien's relief, after a moment of what felt like punishment, Safrin relaxed and the pendant fell back against his skin. He smiled, took a moment to simply collect himself as she spoke - he was, to his surprise, rather upset. Still, he had had a life time of covering up his emotions for the sake of performance and easily kept a smile on his face.
"...Just a question." He responded after a moment's pause, looking at the orbs rising and the changing shadows with the mind to try and remember as much as he could, already planning huge grand paintings with which to fill his house and talk to the masses. "Are you the only God here, or are there others? And if there is...what is it you are in charge of? Is it the night sky?"
While he was enthused to be a worker for his new Divine acquaintance, Bastien couldn't help but wonder if another God would give him a better, less threatening deal. He kept this motive to himself, keeping his face a perfect mask of indifferent curiosity.
A question? Well that was certainly more inline what with the deity had in mind.
"There are others." Safrin said with a patient smile. What he was truly asking was a bit hard to explain however. There wasn't exactly a hierarchy among the gods...but there wasn't not one either. "There is Caido who is the ultimate creator.." She said. Though as she mentioned his name her voice took on a strange cadence. It was reverent to be sure, but perhaps a bit cold as well. Though perhaps that was merely Safrin. "Then there is Vi, god of Life, Rae, God of nature, and Mort God of death. Then there is myself, Ludo, and Frey." That he thought her in charge of the night sky - presumably based on her appearance and aesthetic - was adorable in a naively mortal way, and she tittered her amusement. "My jurisdiction is not so easily defined, dear one." She said with a sweet smile. More precisely Safrin was aligned with life, but just like Vi to Mort, the deity had a love for all things dark.
"You'll not find Caido or Rae, Vi, and Mort here though...They've not been heard from in millennia. As for the three of us..." Safrin's lips curled into a bit of a sneer as she thought of her counterparts. Frey with their sexual-mindedness and Ludo with its penchant for half-truths and those bizarre fabrics? To each their own...
