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!
06-04-2020, 05:56 PM (This post was last modified: 06-04-2020, 05:56 PM by Delphine.)
Delphine
Last night seemed like a dream, but Delphine had woke up early, coaxing Noah from his instinctual need to keep the fire going before the sun had risen. She liked to watch the sun come to life, the blues, the purples, the pinks. She also liked to watch the sun go to sleep, and the darkness of the night sky overtake the world.
Once he'd been coaxed back to sleep, she'd tended the fire and moved a bunch of her pigment vials and jars with various paints, as well as a large canvas to the wall of his room. She needed to plan out what would be going on the walls, to brighten up the home. A home that she was to live in needed to feel less like a cave, or a prison, and Noah's presence could only do so much when the chilled winds and deep snow kept her trapped inside a lot of the time.
Though, once she'd started painting, it certainly hadn't been a plan for the house. The painter had not painted in years, clinging to pigments and herbs, selling her body to get a variety of colors, stealing when she could. But she had never used them, but she couldn't let them go either. And it was clear to see why.
He would wake to find her, pigment dust in her hair in various colors, paint on her hands and cheeks, looking happier than last night or any other time that he's seen her smile. She'd drawn the furs from the window, allowing brilliant sunlight to stream into the room, which meant that the room was a bit cooler than it probably should be.
Instead of furs, she's dressed in overalls, and a thick, long-sleeved shirt. Her hair in a messy bun, hazel eyes dancing across the canvas, the vials. She's a very messy painter, and that fact might surprise those who did not know Delphine before her husband, because the little painter had never kept her own spaces clean. Here she did, because this space was not hers...
Delphine flourished in the dirt, covered in paint and chaos around her. A messy home, after all, was a well-used and appreciated home, no? Like the sunlight that reminded her of home, and the color of her hair, Delphine's fingers ached to dig into soil, to see new life flourish around her.
His room had been commandeered for the morning, and upon waking he would notice he'd slept far longer than he normally did. Delphine had coaxed him to sleep each time, promising to tend to the flames, and that everything was okay. He'd have a hangover, she knew, so when she decided he had slept enough, she stopped minding his movements, and attempts to get out of bed.
The house was warm, and smelled of something baking, something sweet. Which meant during the time she had been awake, she'd gone through the kitchen and managed to find some flour, some sugar, and that was really all she needed, save for a few key ingredients, which she'd managed to substitute.
And in true Delphine fashion, on the table beside of the bed rests a glass of water, a clean bucket on the floor within easy reach, and fresh, toasted bread. Next to the water are some herbs, after all, Noah had only taken what she labelled as purely used for recreational drug use, most of her herb-stash was used for healing.
Delphine is focused on the canvas she'd brought into his room, each brushstroke careful, and thought out. She had to paint slower, now that she had no ability to keep her paints and brushes in the air around her.
On the canvas, for the first time since their deaths, rest her children, the scene? The day the three of them had met Noah. Acantha's dark hair, carefully recreated on the canvas in paint, Bryony's bright, blonde tresses, much like her mother.
The way the sun flows through the window would indicate that morning is over and gone.
I don't mind where you come from as long as you come to me.
I don't like illusions, I can't see them clearly.
I don't care, no, I wouldn't dare to fix the twist in you.
You've shown me eventually, what you'll do.
Noah had never slept this long in his entire life. He was a pretty healthy guy, even in his youth. Very rarely did sickness keep him down or in bed. With his mother being a healer, he had always been able to work through things quickly while she was alive. Even the fever that hit the children of Halo when Noah was a boy had not been a problem for the Olson household. Being hungover, however, this was the first time that had ever happened to him. The whiskey Weaver had given him, and he had consumed, was the hardest drink he had ever been drunk off of. Being drunk off of piss-poor ale, in the handful of times that happened to him, had not even hindered him in the slightest.
He was sure that Weaver had poisoned him, and she wasn't even here to laugh at him.
When Noah finally did wake to a state that Delphine did not tend back to sleeping, he simply laid there. He did not move, he just opened his eyes and watched the woman. She was surrounded by the mess of paints, but Noah did not care about that. He was so happy to see her huddled over something that was not harming her. When he found her in this position, typically, she was slicing a knife down her arm or trying to ingest some sort of drug that he had to take away. But now she was so intent on working that he did not want to disturb her.
Not only did Noah not want to disturb the woman, he was sure if he moved right after he woke he would have had to use the bucket she provided for him. When his stomach finally settled enough to where he knew he could predict its actions, he leaned up in the bed and smiled. "You are a very good artist." He smiled, warm and bright, and tried to push away the throbbing in his head that increased from sitting up.
Orange and purple colors flooded her vision as she registered his voice. "And you need to take the herbs to your left." She stated, not even faltering in her brush strokes. "It'll help your stomach, and the little pile next to those will help your headache." She could heal him, easily take away his ailment, but that'd just take the fun out of her day. Besides, he wasn't dying from a hangover. "Drink the entire glass of water, and eat the toast." She stated, as she added the final touch to Acantha's eyes. Painting them from memory was easy, when she saw them as soon as she closed her eyes.
"But... thank you. In Northaven, people used to beg me to paint them," she smiled at the memory, and moved to sit on the end of the bed. "I used to get so focused on painting that sometimes I had no idea an entire day had gone by, or I'd not hear people coming into the house..." She sighed, and laid back on the bed, despite the paint and pigment dust that would smear across the blankets. She was pretty sure she'd just laid down on his feet. "But my favorite place to paint is outside, in the sun... see the trees and new growth."
Delphine's mother had been a healer and an artist. "There's so much in the world to see, Noah. There's so much to paint." She rolled onto her stomach, propping her chin up against the palms of her hands. "Will you come see the world with me, someday?" She inquired, hazel eyes roaming over the man's features, sharp elbows resting against his calves.
"And oh! Don't get me started on the pigments, some of these colors are made of the strangest things, but so vibrant and beautiful..." She moved to claim a vial of brilliant pink pigment dust, holding it up for him to see, like an overexcited child.
The only person who had ever shown interest in her art was Remi. And look where they were now. "My mother would have loved Caido, for the beauty each area holds." She breathed out, easily oblivious to the still-wet smear of yellow paint across her face. She'd used the yellow in the painting for the firelight.
Her excitement faltered, briefly. "Noah... you meant everything last night, right?" He had been drunk, and may not remember. It'd take her a while to fully grasp that he just wanted her; not because of any skill she possessed, or how she was useful to him.
I don't mind where you come from as long as you come to me.
I don't like illusions, I can't see them clearly.
I don't care, no, I wouldn't dare to fix the twist in you.
You've shown me eventually, what you'll do.
Her command came with ease, as if she had practiced it. Noah sat up and scooted back with a groan, the simple movement making his head throb and stomach roll slightly. He looked at the bundle of herbs and the water. His eyebrows scrunched together some and he thought about protesting, but from what she had shared with him he knew she had knowledge enough of what to give someone for a hangover. So he reached for the herbs and water, and ingested them in turns as best and quickly as he could without tossing it back into the bucket she had found and provided for him. He nursed the water, and used the toast to mask the taste of the bitter herbs.
He leaned against the bedpost and listened to her talk about her painting history. It was nice to hear more about her and the life she lived before him. Despite the pain in his head and the general state of discomfort he felt, it made him smile. She went on to ask him to see the world, and he sighed. "I think so." He started, voice lowering and turning more neutral than it had been the day before. "I think seeing the world would be good for me...but I do have important duties here in Halo. So we can only go on short trips." He could not leave the people to starve. "And I am sure when Ezekiel returns he will have so many stories of the world outside of Halo."
Noah moved to get a better angle of viewing her painting. He sat on the floor beside her, pulling one of the furs off of his bed to wrap around his shoulders. His smile returned when she talked about what she loved. She lit up in a way that he had not seen these past weeks. Her brown eyes glittered with a joy he had not witnessed before. The hunter reached over to stroke her back as she talked and showed him the vial of pink. He nodded at the statement about her mother. Her next question made him chuckle. It was a low chuckle, and the words which followed were so matter-of-fact: "Of course." His free hand moved to cup her chin and he brought his face to her's for a kiss, a touch of the yellow transferring from her cheek to his.
06-08-2020, 10:02 PM (This post was last modified: 06-08-2020, 10:02 PM by Delphine.)
Delphine
Delphine listened to him, pursing her lips thoughtfully. "I'd never ask you to leave Halo for long. It's... home." She grinned, "Besides, too much of a good thing can be bad." When he mentioned his brother, the woman furrowed her brow.
"Noah? What happens if Ezekiel doesn't want to come back to Halo?" She didn't know his younger brother, but she was learning Noah. And something told her that he had not yet considered and prepared for that possibility.
When he confirmed that he had meant what he had said the night before, she leaned into the kiss, squinting at the yellow on his cheek, reaching to pat her face. Fingers came away yellow and she flushed, wiping her hands on her pants. "Why didn't you tell me that I have got paint on my face." She huffed, moving to lower the canvas to the floor, along with her paints.
Once that was done, she'd settle beside him, and study it. "You know," she reached to wipe the paint off of his face, her gaze wandering over him. "You should put some clothes on unless you want me to paint you naked." She grinned, "It would be a pretty sexy painting..."
I don't mind where you come from as long as you come to me.
I don't like illusions, I can't see them clearly.
I don't care, no, I wouldn't dare to fix the twist in you.
You've shown me eventually, what you'll do.
It was true: Noah had never considered the possibility of Ezekiel never returning to Halo. He assumed that when his younger brother had taken his fill and had his fun, he would return home and go back to his normal routines. For Noah, it was hard to imagine life having purpose outside of the purpose he already fulfilled. While Ezekiel very well could live his dreams outside of the frozen land, the elder Olson could not. He didn't want to think about it, his heart hurt too much. So he didn't answer her. He hoped she wouldn't press the issue, and would let Noah leave it as a bridge to cross in the future.
"You just looked too cute with it smeared right there." He laughed some, pressing his thumb to where she had wiped away the yellow. Seeing her dive so deep into her work was a thousand times better than waking up to her huddled over herself, a knife carving crimson lines down her alabaster forearm. His smile widened and he kissed her again.
When she pointed out his nakedness, however, Noah laughed. He would not sit for her to paint him naked -- if she wanted that, she'd have to get clever while he was sleeping. "I can't let you make this standard permanent." He lifted the fur blanket some and gestured to his body, toned with strip-lined muscle that was evident of hard work. "If you put this into a painting, there's no way you'll like me when I am old and fat." He stood, though it was wobbly and difficult, and made his head spin. After taking a second to gather himself again, Noah moved to pull simple clothes to put on. After all, they didn't need to go outside today if they didn't want to.
Delphine didn't press the issue of his brother, but his lack of answer confirmed that it might very well be an issue sooner, rather than later. At least she could prepare to help him, if it came to that.
She grinned, as he laughed. He wasn't the first person to enjoy the sight of Delphine with paint smeared on her face, but he was the first person to actually say it. And that made her beam, brightly.
"What? Noah! Pffft." She swatted the back of his leg, as he began to get dressed, "I'll like you toned, and I'll like you when you're old and fat. Mostly 'cause what you look like isn't the only reason I like you." She moved to stand, shaking a variety of colored dust out of messy, tangled blonde. The bun wasn't really a bun, just a knot of hair.
Moving to stand in front of him, she flashed him a grin, and held out her hands. "Since you won't lemme paint you, I guess we'll have to get right on to housework."
I don't mind where you come from as long as you come to me.
I don't like illusions, I can't see them clearly.
I don't care, no, I wouldn't dare to fix the twist in you.
You've shown me eventually, what you'll do.
He only laughed as she swatted at him while he was getting dressed. "Well good." At least he could take confidence in that she would still like him. In his line of work, the likelihood of his sustaining and appearance-changing injury was just about as high as the likelihood of death. Noah had never really spent much time thinking on his own appearance, though he could at least consider himself somewhat handsome. He hadn't caused any grimaces of partners past, that was certain.
Normally Noah would have nodded along and agreed to start getting to the housework, instead he looping his arm around Delphine's torso and pulled her close. "What happened to staying in bed all day?" He asked, pouting out his lower lip. Even though he was playing with her, teasing her, his mind raced with all of the things that needed to be done in the house. While they had worked hard to fix the structural damage that threatened their very lives, there was still cosmetic damage that would need tending to.
Delphine grinned, slipping her arms around his midsection. "Well, if I get back in bed with you now, what'll I reward you with throughout the day?" She leaned onto her toes to press a kiss to his mouth, lingering there for a moment, lips pressing a second kiss to his chin, despite his beard.
For a moment, there in his arms, she found herself wondering if they'd have blonde-haired, blue-eyed children. If she'd despise them like she'd despised the twins. After a moment of silence, she spoke up, "Wanna paint first?" That way, the furniture would already be moved out of the way, easier to rearrange.
He had told her he preferred green, and Delphine had many greens to choose from. Or all of them, if he wished. She leaned to grab a basket, pigment and paints alike, all shades of green. "See any you like?"
I don't mind where you come from as long as you come to me.
I don't like illusions, I can't see them clearly.
I don't care, no, I wouldn't dare to fix the twist in you.
You've shown me eventually, what you'll do.
The idea of being rewarded and teased throughout the day made his heart skip a beat. She leaned up to plant a brief kiss on his lips and he let it just be that, his smile widening afterwards. He ran his hands up her spine one more before letting her break loose, asking about paints and what they could do first. He followed her and reveled at the basket. He had never seen so much color in Halo. It was not a vibrant, verdant place to live. It was expensive to buy dye and color, and the fact that Delphine had so much amazed him.
If he tried to smile any wider, he was sure his cheeks would burst. "We could paint this wall." He gestured to the wall that butted up to his room, where the couch normally rested.
He reached down and grabbed a darker green that reminded him of the forest in the Hollowed Grounds. "I like this one."
Delphine grinned, as he plucked a color from the basket. "Okay, that one for this wall..." She ushered him into the kitchen, and claimed a bowl. "Do you think the whole wall should be green, or should we paint a scene?"
As she spoke, she was gathering ingredients to make more of the paint, with what she had. Flour, salt, a few other things from her bag. Before she started mixing, she waited to hear what he was thinking.
"Maybe a forest scene? The wall is like a canvas, just bigger."
I don't mind where you come from as long as you come to me.
I don't like illusions, I can't see them clearly.
I don't care, no, I wouldn't dare to fix the twist in you.
You've shown me eventually, what you'll do.
In all honesty, Noah didn't have much of an opinion. He had picked out the color he liked the best, and after that he was neutral. He was never one to pursue the arts. He didn't look down on those who did, he had just always been taught his purpose and had always pursued that rather than anything else. It wholly satisfied him. He assumed that this, painting and tending and caring, wholly satisfied Delphine. So he let her run wild. "You decide." He smiled, following her around as she gathered her items. He watched her carefully, taking in the way her body moved with a vigor that looked almost forgotten--a vigor he certainly had not seen before the last 12 hours.
He scooped his hands around her waist again, pressing himself up against her back. The messy bun--or nest--of hair was nice for him, and he only had to move a few strands of hair away to give way to the landing strip of her neck. He laced kisses from her collarbone to her ear, a small rumble of a humming growl vibrating deep in his throat as he did. "You're the artist, after all."
Delphine furrowed her brow, though she continued to mix the paint, reaching for the basket, to pull two or three other colors out of it. "We'll do a scene," She grinned, as he found her waist. "Maybe the Greatwood... or the Hollowed Grounds forest..." Or even her homeland. Northwind. Northaven... He brought her out of her thoughts with his touch and his words, and she scoffed.
"Pfft. I've not been an artist for years," she surmised, as she continued to mix the paints, carefully ignoring his distractions. Not like she could mess up paints, though. "Here, put your hands to better use," She squirmed and twisted to wave a paint-covered wooden mixing spoon at him. "You mix this color, I'll mix this one, and then we can get started." She sounded very confident; painting was the one thing nobody had ever dissuaded her from.
I don't mind where you come from as long as you come to me.
I don't like illusions, I can't see them clearly.
I don't care, no, I wouldn't dare to fix the twist in you.
You've shown me eventually, what you'll do.
The herbs and the water he had been forced to take by Delphine were helping him. Even as he moved his head up and down her neck it did not throb or spin, and his stomach had settled down for the most part. He knew he would need to drink more water to keep dehydration at bay, and there were certainly ways to come that would make him regret his drinking actions from the night before.
He let his rumbling continue as she went on to talk about what she might paint. He was, truly, content with whatever she picked. In the past he may have had reservations about changing his family's home, but Noah was taking more of his own ownership over it. His brother had up and gone without a second thought, and he was left to tend to it. Adding things to it, letting Delphine's touch flare the place up, was not a disrespectful thing to do. It helped him feel better about the home being his, and if it helped her feel more welcome within the walls, then so be it.
He frowned some, almost pouting, when she pulled away and handed him a job. He took the bowl nonetheless and stared mixing. "What makes this green so....vibrant?"
