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!
Delphine had not known Weaver, never spoken to her, had only seen her every so often. But Noah had known the woman, and Delphine knew his pain. She knew his pain like it was her own; because she knew what it was like to lose people.
A husband, children, a best friend, a brother... The list went on if she included those who might as well be dead, what had become of her beloved Northaven? It bothered her, most nights, that she had no idea about her homelands.
Or her children. Were they happy with Mort?
If they weren't, did she deserve another chance to be happy? Did Noah deserve the baggage that she brought?
All of these worries had led to Delphine slipping from the home she shared with the Olson, which prompted her to break her sobriety. Not with drugs, but with a drink. Just one, she promised herself, as she wandered through the streets, seeking out a tavern that was less crowded than the Kraai.
Finding one, run-down, forgotten, the blonde-haired woman entered, carefully ensuring the knife she kept on her was still there. Because if the drink didn't help, she knew what would. And she'd started sneaking out to cut because she didn't like worrying Noah. He didn't understand.
Studying the small tavern, people keeping to themselves, she moved towards a corner table, ordering herself the lightest drink on the menu. She wasn't here to get drunk, something light, she'd go home, brush her teeth and be presentable for Noah, he'd be none the wiser.
But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?
He was already drunk. Or possibly had never stopped between last night and the afternoon when he staggered inside. The barkeep was starting to give him funny looks, half concerned - how drunk did you have to be to worry a bartender? - and half annoyed at the lack of payment. 'Later,' Korbin kept saying, 'I'll pay it off later,' and for now his good name in Halo was still good. How much had he not done for them all in the past? He had always been good for his word.
But for now, he really needed a bit more booze. Not the watered down ale or the flat beer, or the sorry excuse for whiskey they served here. No fancy drinks to linger over; Korbin went straight for the vodka. Shot after shot, until his head spun and he couldn't quite remember his own name.
He had a bit further to go before getting there tonight though. When the door opened to let in the young blonde, he didn't even look up, but remained sprawled in his chair with a bottle and glass on the table before him. There was a bowl of food there too, but it had not been touched. His long legs had been propped on the chair by the adjoining table, and blocked off the path to the corner.
Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around
The man was blocking the way to the seat she wanted, so she pulled a chair up and sat next to him. Stranger, sure. But Delphine was quickly showing strangers she wasn't shy to start up a conversation.
She also was not deterred by the fact the man was drunk, most certainly. For all the healers ability to heal, she didn't really focus on staying uninjured and out of danger herself. "How's it goin'?" Badly, if she had to guess. But she could only read so much body language and infer when the person was a stranger.
How can I begin again? How can I try to love someone new, someone who isn’t you?
06-03-2020, 02:27 PM (This post was last modified: 06-03-2020, 02:29 PM by Korbin.)
KORBIN
But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?
He didn't look up until the scrape of a chair announced that he had gained company. Korbin raised his gaze from the glass slowly and leveled a dark glare at the woman. Fair haired, small and unknown to him; outsider, he concluded, and a muscle feathered at his jaw.
"It was tolerable, until now," he rumbled, in a gruff reply. "Fuck off somewhere, this table is taken." Reaching for the bottle, Korbin poured himself another glass and raised it to his lips. A thin white scar shimmered across his throat as he kicked the head back; the dark feathers of a tattoo peaked up through the collar of his shirt, as raven black as his hair. They almost seemed to move when he swallowed, as if ruffled by a breeze.
Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around
Delphine chuckled quietly, "Unless this is your tavern, pretty sure I can sit wherever I want." Noah would probably be proud of her, for not taking that statement as an order. She studied the stranger, as she sipped the wine she'd ordered.
"What's got you so down?" It'd be rude to assume it was because of Weaver; after all, Delphine was still learning how the people of Halo were related, or not. She'd yet to meet too many people, outside of the few strangers she ran into on the streets. But if she was really considering Halo as her home, then she'd need to get to know the people.
But she'd picked a terrible person to talk too tonight, it seemed. Drunk and rude. Probably didn't like outlanders.
How can I begin again? How can I try to love someone new, someone who isn’t you?
But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?
Korbin scowled at her, but unfortunately the girl had a point. Didn't mean he had to engage with her though; he dragged his bottle and glass closer to himself and pointedly avoided looking at her.
"That's none of your damn business," he growled, a quiet snarl that had teeth flashing and non existent hackles rising. Honestly, he should have been surprised that she didn't already know. Just confirmed that she did not belong here; pretty much all the Halo naturals knew who he was in one way or another, and knew why he was drowning himself in booze. It was a small town, and word got around.
But if she didn't know, Korbin definitely would not tell. The whole purpose of his stay in the shithole of a pub was to forget.
Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around
Delphine sipped her wine, even as the man snarled at her. "There's better ways to handle anger, than alcohol. Why're all the men I come across drunk lately? Did you know Weaver too?" Noah had been drunk just a few nights prior, over the woman's death. From what little she had gleaned from various townspeople, the woman had only been Warden for a short period of time, but she'd been in Halo and a part of Halo for much longer.
She'd even owned the newer tavern, which was what led Delphine to avoid it. She was trying to avoid the sad drunks. She couldn't fix them all, she'd barely fixed Noah. Well, perhaps 'fix' wasn't the right word here, but... it'd do for now. Finishing her wine, she continued to study the man, hazel eyes curious, and worried. Not for herself, but for a stranger she didn't even know.
Once upon a time, she wouldn't have cared, because her husband ordered her not too. But her husband was gone and she was learning to live in a world without orders and strict rules. She was moving into a world where things waxed and waned, changed as needed.
How can I begin again? How can I try to love someone new, someone who isn’t you?
But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?
The boy bristled, but didn't reply. That's all he was, really; a boy. Tall and dark and broody, sure, but beyond the twist of the mouth and the haze of alcohol in his eyes there was only pain. Grief and anger and something lost, that he desperately tried and failed to hide.
A few of the locals at an adjacent table turned to stare at the woman, like she was crazy. When Korbin's gritted teeth and stony silence suggested he wasn't going to reply, one large red-whiskered man tipped his chair back and leaned in towards Delphine.
"Korbin's the Warden Weaver's brother, lass. I'd leave well enough alone, if I were you," he told her. Then quickly retreated back to his own drink when Korbin's black gaze landed on him.
Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around
Delphine surveyed the boy, the new bit of information made his actions make a lot more sense. The woman hummed, stating quietly, "I know what it's like to lose a brother. Lost a lot, myself. But alcohol doesn't fix the problem, not really. All alcohol does is depress you further."
She studied the small knife, which she'd undone from its sheath. "Cutting is just as dangerous as drinking, unless you have a healer nearby. You can drink yourself to death, or you can learn to deal with your emotions through other means. My husband used to give me a nice drug that caused hallucinations, for instance, but now I cut every now and then." She said the words like it was just fact, something one did to relieve their pain for a moment or two. She did miss the drugs, but...
If she was taking hallucinogenics, she might not know what was real and what was not, with Noah. So it was easier for her to stay away from them. Same with alcohol, save for the glass of wine she'd just had.
How can I begin again? How can I try to love someone new, someone who isn’t you?
But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?
The appearance of the knife made Korbin tense, and he was not alone in that. Most of the men - and women - who sat strewn across the room were armed in one way or another, and a few hands strayed automatically to their own daggers, all while eying the crazy girl from the corners of their eyes.
Korbin's gaze lingered on the blade. He was not armed. His knives had been taken away by an overzealous healer, because the uses he would put them to went a little beyond carving patterns into the skin.
"You assume a great deal," he finally said, voice dropped into something quiet, almost soft. "What makes you think death is not what I'm striving for?"
Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around
"Is death what you seek?" She inquired, not concerned with the hands going to weapons. Her own knife returned to its sheath, and she hummed, the sound quiet. "I think death is what's easy." She explained, settling into her chair.
"Is that what your sister would want?" She inquired, fairly unconcerned of consequences. "Death is, hmm. Well, it's definitely a way out but it's... like a way to avoid dealing with your problems." She stated, studying the ceiling of the tavern, in thought.
"When my children died, I... considered death. But I realized, if I died, nobody would know about them, the stories they told me, the things we did together."
How can I begin again? How can I try to love someone new, someone who isn’t you?
But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?
This was quickly turning way too personal. Korbin had no intention of explaining his thoughts and actions to a complete stranger, and especially not one who appeared more than a little messed up.
"No. But it's what I want," he bit back, and removed his legs from the chair where they had been propped up. Rising, rather unsteady on his feet, Korbin picked up the bottle and started to move away from the table, across the room towards a stair leading up to the second floor.
If the woman wouldn't leave him alone then he would take the drinking to his room instead. At least the fleas didn't try to talk to him.
Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around
Most people would probably have left Korbin alone, but his disinterest in being around her just made her need to follow him. So that's what she did. She paid for a bottle of alcohol, dried meat for alcohol, and started up the stairs.
Bottle in hand, she lingered steps behind of him, letting him enter his room before she was knocking at his door. "Hey, let me apologize, at least. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." She had, because when people got uncomfortable you learned a lot about them, but she did feel a bit bad about it, so there was that.
Besides, Delphine was a bit of a nuisance. Curiosity killed the cat, and sure as it killed the cat, curiosity would be what killed her one day.
How can I begin again? How can I try to love someone new, someone who isn’t you?
But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?
There was a pause, then steps came towards the door. It was jerked open, and Korbin fairly glared at the woman. He had discarded his long coat and pulled off the shirt, and stood with bare torso in the doorway. Black ink draped over his shoulders, raven feathers that traced the lineof his arms. Birds flew across his chest too; three ravens circling his heart, gracefully avoiding the scattered scars that littered his body. Knife wounds, small burns- traces of a rough life carved into flesh.
"What part of 'fuck off' do you not understand?" he growled. His gaze flitted over her, to the bottle she held. Searched for the knife, equal parts wary and... hungry?
He was thin. Lean and wiery, still with the gangly buildt of a teenager, though the shoulders were widening and might bulk out quickly with enough food. But it didn't look like he'd had much of that lately. The ribs were jutting and the stomach concave, the skin beneath his eyes bruised and black. The room behind him was as much of a mess, dirty and unkempt, reeking of smoke and sweat and sick.
Safe to say, Korbin did not invite her in.
Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around
