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!
Well, with his business with Remi sorted, Sam had a lot of things to do in the coming season. First and foremost though, he needed somewhere to stay.
The walk up into Haulani, pack on his back and endless thoughts in his mind, had seemed very long indeed; maybe Ascended didn't feel physical exhaustion in a true way, but he certainly wanted to flop into a nice bed as soon as possible. Hopefully there would be an inn or some kind of easily accessible hotel for him to check into, at least until he could sort out a designated room for the Hollowed Grounders, which he supposed he'd be staying in with everyone else.
As he walked into the city limits he was reminded of Zeph's words about how bustling it could be. Indeed in the soft evening glow of orange lights it was surprisingly lively on the streets, Sam shyly stepping around all kinds of goings on, sometimes having to stop and stare: he certainly wasn't in the Grounds anymore. Never having been wonderful with intense noise or happenings he was becoming quite overwhelmed and more than ever wanted to find a quiet room somewhere.
Unfortunately, with all the hubbub going on and crowds pushing him this way and that, he swiftly found himself pretty lost, no closer to somewhere to stay. Eventually he found a seat on the end of a bench in a slightly less busy corner and tried to pause for a moment to collect his mind, pack before him on the ground and a hand pushing through his hair.
You're finishing another day of wheeling and dealing (read: wandering around somewhat aimlessly while the Ark remains dark) when you spot it. The shock of red hair wouldn't be too unusual on its own, but the pale skin beneath it? Definitely not something you see in Torchline very often.
Truth be told, you hadn't expected to see Sam again so soon- given that the last time you'd met he'd straight up said he wouldn't be back until Deepfrost ended. Yet here he is, scurrying around Hualani like an adorable lost little rabbit. Leaning languidly against a post, you watch as he skirts around the groups like he's afraid of stepping on someone's shadow. It's another thing that sticks out like a sore thumb in a place like this; you're really going to have to teach him to blend in more, you think, shaking your head bemusedly.
Are you tracking to make sure nobody pickpockets him? Maybe. Do you clear your throat and make eye contact with a well known street rat who's tailing him as well? Perhaps. When he sits down, pack on the ground, clearly lost in his own thoughts and probably not noticing you, do you walk the perimeter of the area to come behind him where he's resting? Sure, but who wouldn't?
Do you then squat down and slide your hand into his pocket, hoping to extract some treasure with nimble (albeit ill-practiced) fingers, then prop your chin on the bench beside him and lean in close with a cheeky whisper, "Careful, Red, dontcha know there's thieves roamin' this town?"
Abso-fucking-loutely. Gotta keep the newbies from growing too complacent, after all.
past the wondering eyes of the ones that were left behind
Sam, lost in his desperate hope for a bed to lay his head on, didn't notice the hand that darted into his pocket, taking out his handkerchief (carried around more out of a habit than any kind of need, and sometimes it was useful for picking things up) and the communication stone Remi had once given him, though who owned the other half now he had no idea. His first indication that anyone was behind him at all was the voice, which sounded half-familiar.
The nickname gave away who it was before he turned and Sam had a smile on his face as he looked around. "If you keep bringing up thieves, I really am going to think you are one." He laughed, shifting to sit sideways so he could face Zeph more, lifting his pack up onto his knees. Looking at the man he realised after a moment that this could actually be useful: the 'dock worker' had seemed nice enough on the beach, so he decided to trust him. Possibly a stupid idea, but he was rather desperate.
"While you're here -- um, could you help me? I..I'm lost. I'm meant to be helping the Hollowed Grounders that are going to come here during LongNight, but I can't even find somewhere to stay and the crowds...I'm getting turned around. I'm not used to so many people." He let out a little embarrassed laugh with the last sentence, sure Zeph would find it quaint.
It's a pretty little rock that you've managed to acquire, bright and green and maybe worth something. Idly you run it between your fingers, thumb circling around the hollow center before you pop the handkerchief (and the handkerchief - which, who carries a handkerchief?) back into his pocket, satisfied with your prize.
As Sam turns towards you you go ahead and pull your body onto the bench, settling on the back of it, feet resting on the seat. "Can't say it ain't a fair assumption, 'round these parts," you concede. You're leaning forward now, your elbows on your knees, and the green stone flickers between your large fingers with surprising precision.
"Not so busy back where you're from, eh?" Your tone is teasing but not unkind; as much as you belong in Hualani like an entacado belongs in the sea, you can understand how it might be overwhelming for some. "Thought I wasn't gonna see you 'til after Deepfrost, Red. What happened?"
past the wondering eyes of the ones that were left behind
Zephyr settled in to sit more firmly on the bench, which gave Sam a little relief; it at least meant he might stay a while and it made Sam feel better to think he had some company just for him among the huge wave of people going by, all of which looked less familiar than the next. "Mhmmm. Well, for the moment I'll trust you aren't." He said with a smile, unaware of the irony as Zephyr returned the handkerchief to his pocket.
"No, this is...like market day but.." Sam shook his head and gave an exhausted laugh, clearly overwhelmed. "...a lot more."
He had been expecting Zephyr to ask why he was there; Sam rose up his hands to shrug then realised the dark glove on his left hand was visible and had to look odd next to his naked left; consciously he grabbed his hands together. "...The rest of the council had reason to stay in the Grounds and I didn't, so I came here. I'm..not too sad. I feel like it'll be much nicer to spend Longnight here, where I heard there were no monsters..?"
He doesn't notice the stone at all, unless this is some sort of long con, which honestly you really can't imagine him even trying to pull off. You're going to need to improve his awareness if he's going to spend time here, you think.
Fuck, though, that isn't your job. You aren't Red's friend, let alone his keeper. He's not your problem. He's just some random weirdo you met on a dock one night, and Safrin's tits if you haven't encountered your fair share of those. You oughta let him figure things out for himself, get lost and robbed and develop an appreciation for the dangers of this place.
Except that as he sits there looking at you through those overwhelmed eyes you know you aren't a hard enough man to leave him to his fate.
Fuck.
He's wearing a glove of all things, on only one hand. Definitely a weirdo, you think with an internal sigh, resigning yourself to your fate. "Only the people," you reply with a playful smirk, moving the stone into your other hand. "Y'think this is wild, just wait 'til the dark days. Singin' an' dancin' an' drinkin', from sundown t'sunup." An almost-smile quirks at your lip as you stare into the distance, remembering fondly when you were young and rouse as much rabble as any other lad.
past the wondering eyes of the ones that were left behind
"The people..? Oh. Ha." Sam gave a quiet chuckle: he had been so expecting Zephyr to tell him a tale of a monster he hadn't been ready to hear a joke. It was difficult to believe in a Longnight without the horrors lurking in the dark, but he supposed if Zephyr could so easily laugh about it it had to be true. "..That...really does not sound like my kind of thing, but I'd take it over Longnight in the Hollowed Grounds any time."
Not noticing at all Zephyr moving the stone to his other hand (he was putting a lot of trust into this man to guide him after all and did not watch his fingers move) he pulled his pack a little closer as someone walked by. "The Grounders will be staying in the Inn, so I'm sure they might have a chance to get up to all sorts of..those things. Personally though, I'd rather stay somewhere a little more quiet...besides, not all of those that are coming like me." It was an awkward thing to admit, but he hoped it might impress upon Zeph why he needed help finding somewhere else to stay: hopefully he wouldn't ask why.
The bag moves closer once again, clutched so tightly it might hold all the gems of the depths. It seems unlikely he'll last more than a day without being robbed far blinded by far worse than you, going on as he is. Oh, sure, you imagine he could hold his own in a fight back home - he's built, after all, and you're not about to pretend you didn't notice the muscles beneath the sleeves - in Torchlight you fight dirty. No way Red's cut out for that.
And the Inn won't offer much protection, not without some work. Fingers find your hair, the easily stolen rock clenched in your other hand. You can sense all these thoughts mulling through your head, and beneath them a warning note of don't you fucking do it, Zephyr-
You glance sidelong at Sam, the words already forming ruggedly in your throat. "I s'pose y'could crash with me." Zephyr Kawaianu, you goddamn bleeding heart son of a Hel. "Least til ya figure out somethin' better."
past the wondering eyes of the ones that were left behind
Zeph seemed to hesitate, fingers in his hair. Sam wasn't sure why; the man had to know of somewhere he could get a quiet private room, right? There had to be somewhere in all of Haulani a place where he could lay his head down, or at least he desperately hoped so: if not, this was going to be a very miserable stay.
When the offer that did emerge was spoken he was completely shocked and stared for a moment, wondering if Zeph was serious. It was clear, once his surprise had passed, that he was excited about it. Getting to stay in a private home meant far less hassle and a chance to make a friend, something he was desperately in need of here. "You mean that? That would be amazing, thank you. Where do you live?"
Well now you've done it. Sam is all too keen to accept your invitation (boy's! gonna! get! shanked!), so there's no rescinding or backing out. You've a house guest for the first time in a dog's age, and your house...
...your house...
..your house is a bloody disaster, isn't it, Zeph? You stupid hel-brained dinosaur.
"Down by closer to the beach." Resigned to your fate you hop off the bench. Your hand sneaks to the back of the neck, rubbing it uncomfortably as you study the milling crowd and purposefully not Sam. Ki is gonna be pissed. "Reckon you're wantin' to get your stuff stowed away, 'fore ya attract more attention."
past the wondering eyes of the ones that were left behind
Zeph didn't seem thrilled that he had accepted his invitation and Sam immediately worried it had been a simple nicety; it seemed that even if that was the case it was still going ahead, so he grabbed his things and began to follow the man through Haulani, glad to have some direction for this trek through the town.
"Mhm. So um, do you live with anyone else...?" He asked, weaving between various people in the crowd. "I don't want to get in the way." He could already see visions of angry wives or schools of squabbling children around his feet and cursed the ability he had to immediately envision every way something could go wrong.
Before you set off to your home you extend your arm to take Sam's possessions, intending to sling the bag over your own bag with a practiced ease. "Here- I'll hold your bag. Wouldn' want anyone gettin' ideas about tryin' to snatch it. An' stick close, don' want ya gettin' lost."
You make your way down the cobble-paved road, glancing back occasionally to make sure Red's still close enough behind that he doesn't get lost. "Huh...? Ah, nah, just me'n my girl." It's an absent sort of answer, because you're distracted. There are eyes on the pair of you; you can sense them as much as see you, like the buzzing of flies at the corner of your awareness. Annoying twats, you think with a roll of your eyes, almost certainly wondering how bad an idea it would be to try and grab your companion's shit.
past the wondering eyes of the ones that were left behind
Sam let Zeph take his bag, watching as it lifted out of his arms; he supposed this was when he learnt about the other man's intentions, because he had ample opportunity to run off with it there and then. But Zeph just gave him advice and kept walking and Sam smiled with a newfound trust as he followed along behind him.
Hearing that there was a 'girl' at Zeph's home made him pause: hadn't they been flirting on the dock..? Sam supposed he must have been misreading it, and thinking of staying with a couple now had him regretting this a bit. Still, he kept on a smile and asked: "Oh, your wife? Or girlfriend? What's her name?" He supposed he may as well find out the name of the woman whose house he was going to crash into.
His question about Ki's role elicits a snort of laughter, a brief and vibrant rumbling thing that breaks through the gloom of your usual stoicism. "Neither'a those, tho she's enough of a jealous pain in the ass t'be both." Oh, your companion is not going to be pleased to learn you're bringing in a stray. You can hear the mental scolding now. "Her name's Ki. She bites, but not very hard."
You're nearing the houses at the end of the lane, right up the hill from the beach. It's the most familiar walk in the world, but now as you make it you feel a bit nervous. Yours isn't the last, but it's nearing there, a sturdy structure of wood and clay with now-faded green trim and a rather sad looking garden.
"It's, uh... a bit'uva mess," you admit uncomfortably, adjusting the weight of the bag on your back. "Wasn' expectin' company. Been a minute since I cleaned." This is a massive fucking understatement, but you're nearing the door and there's nothing to be done about it now. Again you hear Ki's voice ringing in your head: You made a damn mess of it this time, Zeph. An' now you can sleep in your own shit.
past the wondering eyes of the ones that were left behind
