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!
”Hey, you can’t prove that’s not true,” she says with a chuckle, recalling the mirror. One of those old handheld things, long out of fashion and use, as many of Mavis’ trinkets were. As useless as the things were, Weaver did end up going there a lot. The dragonfly pendant that Mavis had thrust into her hands had proven useful, and somehow Mavis knew what you needed. She had a knack for that. A gift given to Deimos in return for the knife he’d given her, though with the intention of him regifting it to someone pretty. Weaver imagines that little pendant lives with Amalia now.
Weaver turns her attention to Korbin as he makes them a drink. Before noon. She watches him for a moment with a curious look. ”Brother, I might be rubbing off on you.” Though she clearly isn’t complaining as she accepts the mulled wine, taking a long slow sip from the glass. ”Are you in that good of a mood, or should I be worried?” There’s a teasing note to her voice, but still, she maybe wants to know the answer to that question as well.
Weaver smiles at the idea of a song for Maea. ”I’m not sure who she was with that day, but Loren might know where to start,” she muses. Weaver grabs the menu and the recipe book, turning them to face her on this side of the bar, flipping through till she has another couple of drinks written on the menu, both lacking names. The first is a joke of a drink, really, or it had been when she’d created it. But it turned out to be decent, and mostly, it was fun. It made for a great shot and a good start to a drunken evening. The second was a far more legitimate drink, another of her favorites on the menu. Dark and smoky, rich in alcohol, not the sort of drink for the faint of heart.
She turns the menu to Korbin so he can read the ingredients: Spiced Rum, Vodka, Tequila, Gin, White Rum, Lime Juice, Sugar Syrup, Bitters
at least I know how I can make you laugh like no one else
Smiling at the antics of the old woman, he lost himself in musings over that mirror. If there was a way to somehow see without being present, to trick it to reveal its secrets, if there truly were any. It was an entertaining notion, but Korbin was pulled out of it by Weaver's comment.
He arched a brow at her with a mildly offended look. "What kind of stick in the mud am I to you?" he asked, sounding a little too hurt to be entirely real. "I've got just as much right to be irresponsible, and you can't stop me." So saying, he flashed a smug grin at her and took a deep gulp of his wine, relishing the burn of the hot liquid on the tongue, how it seared its way down the throat. Korbin was hardly a saint, he did his fair share of drinking and tumbling in the hay, not to mention lying, thievery and a number of other less savory habits. Just because he wasn't as depraved as his sister didn't mean he was boring.
"I'll leave that digging to you," he said, when Loren was dragged into the conversation. He shouldn't be surprised, really, but Korbin still felt it was unnecessary to bring the guy up. Happy though he was, his relation with the Grand Healer had not improved since last they spoke.
Using the drinks as pretext to ease out of talking about his boss, Korbin considered the liquour she had listed. He knew those too, had tasted them himself, and had a few comments to drop about each. "That one is a bit of a gutpunch," he said, pointing at the first item listed. "As for the other... hm. I don't know. I just think of you, and mom. A realy Lady Hale," he teased, and leaned out of the way of the smack he was pretty sure would come.
Oh I'm such a mess But at least I've always been myself
Weaver laughs, the sound light and happy. It’s been so long since their conversations had been this easy, this pleasant, and she is so grateful for it. ”Do you see me trying to stop you? But you are not usually the one to pour a drink this early in the day.” Besides, even she was only irresponsible when she could afford to be, which perhaps doesn’t really count as being irresponsible at all. Still, drinking before noon is an indulgence that even she doesn’t do too often. Well, didn’t. It was a bit too easy to pour herself a drink now. ”Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining.” She didn’t really care what her brother did, but she did care when she wanted to know if she ought to be worried.
She turns to lean against the bar and face her brother. ”I know you don’t love him, but can you at least not make me feel guilty that I don’t share your opinion?” He didn’t say anything wrong, but still, she knows her brother pretty well. ”I did not say you had to talk to him.” Though it was going to be really awkward if Korbin didn’t find some peace with the Grand Healer, assuming her and Loren didn’t crash and burn anyway. Maybe they would, and she suspects her brother won’t be particularly sorry.
Still, she lets the conversation drift on. He makes a few comments. ”The Gutpunch,” she says in agreement, writing the name above the list of ingredients. There was no better name for it. As for his comment about Lady Hale, she doesn’t punch him. In fact, she laughs, because it’s completely true. A manly drink, if you subscribed to that sort of idea, that both Hale women enjoyed. ”Do we call it Lady Hale or just Hale?” she asks, actually quite pleased with the name.
at least I know how I can make you laugh like no one else
Well, maybe he wasn't, at that. It had been a while since he pulled any of his usual stunts, and maybe she wasn't wrong to think he had become rigid and uptight. It was a side effect of trying to hold himself under control, and some things did not easily escape the system, once you'd held on to it long enough.
"Usually I'm too busy or too poor to drink," he pointed out, but in an easy way; it was just a fact of their lives. "Today though, I feel rich and indulgent, and I'm in a mind to take the whole day off and just savor the sound of my own heartbeat. You have no idea how reassuring it is to know I'm still properly alive." He grinned, and made an extravagant gesture.
The mirth faded when Weaver latched on to something he said, however. Korbin raised a brow at her; he hadn't thought the comment to be very hostile at all, or indeed the tone. "I'm not sure what you want me to say," he replied quietly, and regarded her with head cocked aside, the raven peeking through in his mannerisms. "I'm not trying to guilt you into anything. If you're happy with him, then great. Good for you - and I mean that, Weaver." He set the drink aside on the counter, and faced her fully. "But you really can't expect me to like him just because you do. And I won't lie about it; you see through it anyway, so what's the point?"
It wasn't even that he disliked the guy; Korbin just couldn't accept the familiarity Loren tried to treat him with, as if he was some big brother or trusted friend. It wasn't true, and it was too soon. He didn't know the man, didn't trust him, wasn't even sure he liked him either. And most of all, it rankled that he'd had the relation forced upon himself without a say. What if he just preferred to have nothing at all to do with the man whatsoever? But apprently that was not an option.
He waited, fairly sure Weaver would have something to say to that - they were good at arguing, even when it shouldn't be necessary - and found himself rather distracted when she asked about the drinks. She seemed pleased with the names, and he smiled faintly at the question, at her laughter. "Whichever tickles your fancy best, my lady," he teased gently, leaving the choice up to her; it was her bar, her drink, after all. Though perhaps he might be more inclined to approve of the latter... Korbin himself was definitely no lady, and while he had no problem leaving space for his strong sister... it might be nice not to be excluded.
Oh I'm such a mess But at least I've always been myself
She hums a laugh at that. True enough. There were some advantages to breasts, and one of them was a whole lot of free drinks. It was a rare day she actually paid for her own, unless she simply wasn’t trying. ”Mmm,” she says, taking a sip of her drink with one hand and gesturing to the Kraai with the other. ”We are kind of rich and indulgent in general now, you know.” They may not be living in a Palace (though she had no interest in trading their home for a house made of ice), but they were no longer merely scraping by either. ”And I admit, I'm glad you are properly alive too.” Because he does seem to finally be alive, and not some shell of a brother she once knew. It would not all be fixed in one day, but it was a start.
Not that this lasts for them, because they can’t quite manage not to argue unless they aren’t speaking to one another. Though she doesn’t intend to turn this into a fight. She just...well, she doesn’t quite know. It’s hard. And maybe she just wants one thing to not be hard though that would not be the case here. ”I don’t expect you to say anything, really. I just know you, and I can read your mind sometimes,” she says with a chuckle, elbowing him gently and playfully. ”I guess I’m just worried he’s yet another rift between us, which I do not want. I don’t have any expectations of you liking him or accepting him. Maybe I just want to make sure he isn’t going to become something that tears us apart.” It’s hard to quite put it into words, but she tries, with all the honesty he deserves. She’d always been honest with him, but maybe not as fully as she should have been.
She chuckles at that. ”I almost like the sound of that, ‘my lady’, except it would require I actually act like a lady, I would think.” Which of course, Weaver rarely does. And the name of the drink is not a hard decision, because though there was indeed one Lady Hale left in the world, the other was gone. Yet there were still two Hales. Over the name of the other drink she writes The Hale. Singular only because it would be weird to order ‘one Hales’, but the point is the same. It is for both of them.
at least I know how I can make you laugh like no one else
Korbin couldn't help but grimace, though it was fairly good natured. "I know it's what we dreamed of and worked for, but I keep feeling like the whole 'rich' thing isn't all it was cracked up to be. I kind of miss having that singular goal to work for... What are we, without the struggle?" He grinned, but there was a bit too much truth in what he said for it to be very funny. Perhaps in part because he hadn't earned this fortune... It was Weaver's doing, and something granted her by someone Korbin definitely didn't like.
But that was a matter they had already closed, so he didn't want to drag it up again. It was bad enough that they were still squabbling over Loren. Korbin chuffed a quiet laugh as she poked his side, and reached out a quick hand to pinch her cheek in retaliation. "I won't let that happen," he promised her. "I've disliked your partners before, and it hasn't been a problem. Just keep him out of my kitchen and it'll be fine." As long as Loren left him alone, and he didn't have to see the guy too often, he could keep a civil face when they did have to interact. It was fine at work where they kept up a professional attitude; if they just stuck to that he didn't see that it would have to go out over Weaver.
She chose the name, and Korbin felt unexpectedly touched by it. He would never have faulted her for taking it for herself, and for their mother - he would drink it to their honor all the same - but this way, he could lift a glass to Erebor too, without feeling weird. "Yeah, that's true, there's not much class to find here," he teased her, grinning wickedly. "Let's hope your customers won't be of the sharp type though... that drink seems to give away a whole lot of family secrets."
Oh I'm such a mess But at least I've always been myself
Unlike her brother, she doesn’t care how something comes to her. It doesn’t really matter if it was given to her, so long as she earns it after the fact. Besides, she’d done almost all of the work to get the place set up. Sunjata got Neron’s blessing and sent some booze, and spent half an afternoon here setting up, but really, that was it. The place was hers, and by extension, Korbin, because in her mind they will always be a package deal). Whether it was a gift or not, she’s not really in the business of turning down good things. Though still, she understands where her brother is coming from, and she lets out a breath.
”I don’t know, exactly. I guess we get to figure out some new version of us without the constant struggle. Though I suspect there will still be struggle, brother, it’ll just take a different shape.” Oh how right she is but they don’t know that yet. Life would never be easy. Even if they decided to up and move to soft and cushy Torchline, life would not be easy. It had a way of throwing you a curveball just when you think maybe you’ve gotten out of the game.
She slaps at his hand, though there’s a smile on her face that betrays her all the same. She doesn’t really mind their petty sibling squabbles. They have always done that, will always do that. She only minds the ones that quietly tear them apart, particularly now, when they finally seem to be moving forward. ”Fine,” she says, sounding mock hurt and clearly playful. ”He does bake, you know, so this is a pretty big sacrifice on my end.” Her smile grows and she chuckles slightly before taking another sip from the mulled wine.
Weaver just laughs as he says there’s not much class to be found here. ”Because Halo is so full of classy people?” Though the drinks were classy, nothing else was. She wasn’t about to build something that didn’t fit with the place they lived. The Kraai was warm and welcoming, full of trophies from hunts donated by the local hunters, their work on proud display. Buddy the Spider hid in the bottles behind the bar, occasionally stumbling out to greet patrons and steal their wine. Not one of her customers ever screamed at the sight of a large, drunken spider. ”What family secrets, Korbin? The entirety of Halo knows everything about us.”
at least I know how I can make you laugh like no one else
Call it excessive pride, bull-headed and stubborn. He didn't wish to be beholden to anyone, didn't want favors or charity - that sort of thing. A uselessly independent streak that made him wish to do everything by himself, or at least pay properly for it, so that no one could ever say he didn't earn his keep. Korbin didn't yet have the confidence or security in himself that was needed to accept gifts without seeing a hook behind every smile. Perhaps it was something that would change in time, as he grew older - once the world had beaten that pride out of him and he realized that it really was a useless thing to drag around.
As she slapped at his hand, Krobin grinned and made a dive for her side instead, to tickle at a spot he knew would draw a reaction. "They've got kitchens in the Palace," he pointed out. "You've got a kitchen here. There's the communal kitchen down by the market too. You won't have to sacrifice anything, aside from your lazy ass." Actually, the very thought of stumbling into his boss in the hallway in the morning was enough to make Korbin shudder; if forcing the two of them to stay somewhere else for their 'baking' meant he didn't have to live through that nightmare, he was perfectly willing to see less of her.
He chuckled at her objections then. There really wasn't much class about anyone in Halo, and that's exactly how he liked things. Unpretentious, honest, on-your-nose 'you get what you see' was just the way he preferred his life. "That's just the thing though," he pointed out. "Halo might know everything about us, but the rest of the world doesn't. Imagine how disappointed they would be to realize there's no great mystery behind the wicked Scythe and her dastardly brother." His voice took on a dramatic tone, hands making sweeping gestures as if to illuminate her legend as it spread beyond the Fangs.
Oh I'm such a mess But at least I've always been myself
She is not quite so bull-headed or stubborn, at least in this regard. Though also, she doesn’t see hooks and traps as her brother does. It helps, of course, that she trusts Sunjata. She is also vastly more aware of the similarities between him and herself than Korbin likely is. They operate in the same way, she and Sunjata. The Kraai was not a favor, not really. It was a business arrangement, mutually beneficial to both parties, even though Korbin couldn’t quite see that either. Sunjata would get his secrets and a little more influence. Weaver would get her bar. They also both got a friend, one deeper and truer than they might have expected. But of course, both she and Sunjata are the type to care far too much, even though they don’t tend to show it.
She jumps sideways as he goes for her side, putting down the drink before she spills it, and getting into a fighting stance. ”Oh, do you want to start that now, little brother?” she says with a grin, one hand darting out toward his side to try and tickle him in return. Though she could make playful comments about how Korbin is sending her away to other kitchens and other beds, she doesn’t, letting the topic drift away and the tickle battle take over. Like so many other things, perhaps time would soften her brother so he wouldn’t mind Loren so much. Or maybe it wouldn’t matter anyway.
She laughs. ”The wicked Scythe and her dastardly brother,” she repeats with a smile, shaking her head slightly. ”That would make a great song, you know. Though what secrets do we have, really brother?” Because they didn’t have anything worth considering a secret. ”I don’t believe we need mystery to keep our reputations intact. Though right now we are the wicked Scythe and her annoyingly teenage brother.” She smirks, going in to poke him in the chest, prepared for retaliation.
at least I know how I can make you laugh like no one else
"You're the one who started it, but I don't mind finishing," he grinned, setting his own drink aside. He warded off her first jab with one hand and tried to catch it, even as he retaliated with another dig by his spare hand. This could end in a number of different ways, from someone giving up to them rolling around on the floor, wrestling like children. But he didn't mind; the staff was used to them being idiots and customers would probably get a kick out of food and entertainment. Call it a house service.
"Maybe I just want a secret," he suggested. "You might not need one, but my reputation isn't as terrifying. Just listen to what you just said; who's ever gonna take Korbin the Teenager seriously?"
It really wasn't his idea, this whole growing up thing. Oh, he was aware that he hadn't handled things well for a while, but there were probably those who made a worse time of it too. Was he really that bad? And how was he supposed to quit the act with dignity maintained? Should he apologize for things he had truly meant at the time, or just go on, pretending like nothing happened?
Oh I'm such a mess But at least I've always been myself
She chuckles at that, pulling her hand hard to get it out of his grasp and then diving in close to just tackle him. The bar was basically empty this early, but if anyone came in, they would certainly find it highly amusing. Also, they wouldn’t be that shocked to see the Hale siblings in a tousle. They were always fighting, after all. Normal life in Halo.
Though the conversation drifts on, and she does laugh. ”No one, so you should probably change that reputation. You are in control of it.” She says, backing away to end the tickle fight and picking up her drink again to take a sip of the still warm wine. She can’t answer his questions though, not that he voices them. She can’t tell him how to fix it, because she can’t tell him who he wants to be. Only he knows that, and he’ll have to figure it out. All she can do is offer some advice.
at least I know how I can make you laugh like no one else
He fended her off as best he could, and when Weaver tackled him, he just laughed and clamped his arm down around her, trying to pin her upper arms in place while he dug at her side with the free hand. It wouldn't last long, she eventually made herself free and backed off, but in his mind Korbin notched it down as a rare win.
Mumbling something unintelligible, he reached for his own wine. It was only really good while it was warm, and he spent some time drinking quietly, as his thoughts kept tumbling. Her suggestion sounded a whole lot like 'just grow the fuck up already', and there wasn't a lot he could really say to that. Or do. Some things he really wasn't in control over, and that was apparently at the core of his whole deal.
Ah well.
Draining his mug, Korbin made to push himself up from the seat. "Might as well get some work done, since I'm here already," he said. "What's on the agenda for the day?" If she didn't object, he would launch himself into whatever task she gave him. His hands were itching to do something, and he was too full of energy to just sit still, even if it was for a talk with Weaver.
They seemed to have emptied the possibilities for this conversation anyway.
Oh I'm such a mess But at least I've always been myself
Win? There’d be some argument over that. She’d consider the tackle a pretty good success, even if he managed to get a few pokes in there too. Still, if he wanted to call it a win, then whatever. It was a win just to see him happy, just to act like them for a minute.
Her suggestion is less ‘grow the fuck up’ than it is ‘just do something’, because she kind of doesn’t care what it is. Really she just cares that he stops wallowing, because she just doesn’t quite know what to do with it. But today he is in a good mood at least, and they let the topic of conversation drift on, finishing her own wine as well.
”Inventory,” she says with a wicked grin, because inventory is basically the worst. ”Since you are eager to help, you can join me.” She grabs the empty glasses and washes them up real quick, setting them aside to dry. She slips her arm around his and drags him into the kitchen to get started.
