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!
Since coming to Torchline, things hadn't really felt quite...the same. Of course, enough had changed that she could excuse it for - the brothel, the people, the atmosphere - but Phoebe was trying to not bury hard emotions in fake smiles any more. Harper had been around to do his job, but he simply hadn't been the same. In part she blamed herself, for pushing him when she shouldn't have. But now all she could do was see if she could clean up her mess.
"Brannnnnnbasssssssst!"
So much for subtlety. The seer cat kitten near shouted his name at the door just as Phoebe was about to knock. In her hands she held a plate of gingersnaps and some tea. "Harper? Are you awake still?" she called quietly. The brothel had officially closed not long ago, the last customer having left very satisfied. She had hoped to catch him before bed - bringing the treat to help him unwind.
Change doesn't come easily. On the inside, at least. Admittedly he has been lost in thought for some time, consumed by grief and a fresh loss that had dragged him into a deep depression that had directly mirrored the one he'd struggled through when he'd first lost his beloved. The first time. It's just as hard the second time around, and it takes time. Gruelling, agonizingly slow time. But he has lived through it once, there is no reason to say he cannot do it again.
The new job has forced him to adjust his training rituals, still as rigorous and borderline inhuman as always. That, at least, he won't slack on. But instead of having all the time the day could offer and any outside surface he could possibly utilize at his fingers, he has turned his small room into a mini home gym. When Branbast yowls his own name, Harper nearly drops a weight on his foot as it startles him. Wiping sweat off his brow with his discarded tshirt, he scrambles for a fresh one when he realizes someone wants to enter and it's not just Branbast randomly passing by. As the knock sounds he's pulling on a fresh shirt over his head, breaths still coming fast and controlled from his workout.
No longer at risk of blinding his visitor, Harper opens the door and gestures Phoebe inside with a weak smile. "Yeah, just finishing my workout. What's up?" He has put a moratorium on petnames, keeping a friendly and professional distance between the two of them since their disastrous sparring session in the Grounds. Blue eyes land on the cookies, and his smile twitches a little higher, appreciative of the gesture. He sits at his desk, motioning for her to either stand or take the bed for her own if she intends to say.
Well that was quite the ruckus coming from his room. She stared at it wide-eyed until he finally appeared - his damp hair and swollen arm veins making quite clear what he had been up to. "You know, if you need a great post-work workout I know several lovely people downstairs who would be happy to lend you a hand." she teased with a wink. She hadn't changed yet herself, still in her low cut, backless, billowy gown. Still far more covered than any of the prostitutes but definitely not her standard modest get up.
"I thought you could use a treat." she said brightly, setting the plate and cup down on his desk, before taking a seat on his bed. Branbast was quick to find a spot there as well to curl up in. Phoebe tilted her head to the side then, brows furrowing. "You've not seemed yourself lately. Are you okay?" she asked.
Harper's weak grin dims a little, aware she's joking but nevertheless shaking his head. "Ah, no...you know I don't do that." Feeling slightly uncomfortable as always mentioning it when he works here. He supports them wholeheartedly in their work, and all he asks for is support for his lack of desire to hire them. So far he and the workers have an amiable if distant relation. He doesn't get much time to interact with them as a bouncer after all.
Her dress is quite flattering, but he's more embarrassed than anything to not have a better place for her to sit, even if she must have known that coming in. She'd helped move him in and pick the room. But her finery only emphasizes the disparity between the pair of them - she collected and polished, him sweaty and unassuming. He distracts himself with a grateful smile, plucking a cookie to take a bite out of. "Thank you. It's delicious." That she'd taken the time at all helps to smooth his anxieties away, leaving him more inclined to respond truthfully when she asks as to his recent state of mind. "No...not really. Slightly better than I have been, though. I've been struggling with something Ludo told me, and memories..." his voice cracks a little and he clears his throat softly, breathing through it and trying to remember the good times instead, "memories of my fiancée who I lost. I'm sorry if I've been rude in any way." He can't apologize for distance that he'd needed, but this at least he can regret.
She smiled and shook her head. "I know you don't. It was a joke. It's also why everyone down there is so comfortable with you." she said with a warm smile. The fact that the prostitutes didn't have to worry about any ulterior motives with Harper, knowing he was solely there to protect them, it made them far more willing to trust his presence. Especially the women, who hadn't necessarily had the best of pasts.
For all his anxiety about what he does or doesn't have, what differences there might've been in their current appearance - none of it seemed to phase Phoebe who was calm and collected and at ease. "I'm glad. I figured you could use a little pick me up treat." she said. Her expression fell slightly when he finally got into what was bothering him. Not out of irritation, but concern. "No, you haven't been rude at all. I think I'm the only one who could tell." she assured. She was the one who knew him best of anyone there after all.
"I'm sorry you've been struggling...if you ever wanted to talk or need help, you know I'm here for you." she said quietly, unsure how he would take it. She meant it genuinely, but given their recent kerfuffle...she could only hope he didn't take it as a ploy. "What did Ludo say?" she asked him.
"That's all that matters to me, that they're comfortable. With me and everyone who visits." He gives a small smile as she sits upon his bed, because it may be a silly and humble goal in comparison to hers - rebuilding the Halenani entirely, establishing clientele - but he's proud of his efforts nonetheless. Sometimes it's all that seems to keep him going these days, so consumed with his own grief. He's grateful to be employed, lest he merely disappear somehwere in Caido's reaches to try and grapple with his pain in solitude.
"The others don't know me as well, and I've yet to make many friends here. I'm a little relieved, if only you noticed then." Kiada had as well, but as a visitor to Torchline he doesn't necessarily count her in that pile. Here, he's just another stranger. A faceless wall of muscle to the customers, a fellow employees of sorts to the working men and women, another nameless shopper in the markets. In some ways, it hurts, to be so easily absorbed and forgotten in this new land. Not that he has gone out of his way to make friends in his grief though.
He nods slightly at her assurances, because he knows she means it honestly no matter the weirdness that still lingers between them at times. But he doesn't want to bring it up willingly, not when he still aches with unfair jealousy that she will see Emmett and her nephews on the other side of the veil. "Ludo told me that I'll never be reunited with my family or loved ones when I die. That Mort only holds the souls of those in Caido." his voice drops low and flat, as if to extinguish the pain by controlling the inflection of his words. He rotates slowly in his chair to face away from her, intent on keeping his composure as he picks at the cookie in his hand. "My fiancée died protecting me. I held her in my arms as her magic burned out, and her heart stopped. The last words she ever heard were from me. Me promising that is meet her on the other side someday, that I'd always love her." The cookie begins to crack beneath his tightening fingertips. Broad shoulders hunching in. Even with Delphia's help, the act of saying it is still hard. "I can't keep that promise now."
"Perhaps you should try chatting with some of the workers. Their a very friendly bunch, you know." she encouraged with a smile. Phoebe didn't have much of a choice but to make friends - she had to in order to establish the business. But seeing Harper turn in on himself, away from others, was so uncharacteristic. Maybe he needed a little encouragement to be his usual gregarious self.
As he went on though, it became clear that his issues were far deeper than some uncharacteristic shyness. Her concerned frown deepened, even as he turned away so he could not see her. It was a painful truth, one she had not needed to hear from the soulguide god for she had traversed through realms and planes of reality before. There was no going back. There was no reconnecting. It was as if all and everyone in your past had never existed.
Slowly she rose and stepped closer to him, without thinking, acting solely from the impulses at the bottom of her heart. Delicate arms wrapped around his waist, her face pressed to his back as she hugged him tight, with all her strength. Awkwardness be damned, the man needed a good hug! "I'm sorry, Harper." she said softly. Simple. Heartfelt. There were no other words that would ease his pain. This she knew.
"Maybe you can't keep it, but you didn't break it either. She would know that." she said softly, voice full of conviction.
"I haven't been much in the mood for making friends," he admits quietly. "And I'd hate to distract them. But maybe soon." If he can get his head around all this, temper the emotions that seem ready to cripple him at any moment. Harper doesn't want them to get to know him when he's like this, so different from his normal self.
Her hug is unexpected, wiry arms wrapping round his waist as his head bows over the plate she'd brought. Though it doesn't show, she can likely feel the fine tremors that sink their teeth into his body, trying to break the strong line of his stubbornly set shoulders. He can't afford to break down again, not when he has been making such good progress. Her apology can't be answered; he can't say it's okay, can't brush off that which has ingrained itself into his very being. Instead he merely drops the cookie in his hands, laying them overtop hers in some mimicry of a returned embrace. Weathering the turbulent seas together for a moment, their past forgotten.
Until she speaks.
Harper...hadn't thought of it that way, admittedly. Too wretched and destroyed by the idea of his own hand in this. In reality he'd done nothing to ask for this, The Voice had never asked for his consent, but taking blame is a bad habit he has never grown out of. "Maybe you're right," he croaks pitifully, voice barely more than a rumble. "Her heart was so big...I know she'd forgive me even if I broke it intentionally. But to have her stolen from me, to be thrown here without any say..." Dark head hangs low, still holding onto Phoebe's arms or he'd surely be burying his guileless face in his hands to conceal the rawness of his expression. "I feel like I'm mourning her anew. I'm sorry." For being distant, for being emotional, he really isn't sure what he's apologizing for. Just that it feels right.
"That's okay. There is plenty of opportunity to make friends when you want." she said softly. There was no rush really. As long as Phoebe had her way, the Halenani and its tennants would be going nowhere anytime soon. He could take his time adjusting.
She remained steady as he trembled beneath her arms, holding him safe and secure just as he had held her on the edge of the bone bridge. Sure, there was no imminent threat of death, but a mind could jump off ledges imagined, and that fall could be far more deadly. "It's okay. I know how hard it is." she said, voice gentle and soothing. And for how much her words echoed platitudes, they were far from it. She too had been torn from her home without consent. She knew the pain of knowing those she loved would never be with her again, even in death. It was a very different sort of mourning. "You mourned losing her in life before. Now you're mourning losing her in death. It's only natural. But you're not alone. I'm here for you."
At least she doesn't push the issue, and the appreciative look he spares is the only response he can safely muster. Though he intends to befriend them someday, he's at least glad they can trust in him to protect them even if they have no found their ways deeper into his heart.
For now, the only person he really has in this strange new place is Phoebe. He doesn't regret moving with her - what more did he really have in the Grounds? - but the loneliness can seek crippling at times. Lonely even though they live in the same place, share the same work hours. It makes no sense and yet he feels it, aching and yawning like a sentient thing curled inside his chest. At least her embrace chases it away for now, leaving him more numb than actively hurting. It helps level his voice when he speaks again, softer instead of hoarse and gasping. "I know you are. Thank you, Phoebe." Arms press down a little firmer against her own in some form of an appreciative squeeze. "I just...it's going to take time. Mort's child has been helping me, but I know I've been distant." Sighing, one hand falls away to rise and scrub over his face, wincing at the slight stubble he can feel there that is normally always carefully shaved away. "Enough about me. What have I missed in your life?" Gently shrugging his shoulders, not wanting to necessarily shoo her away but aware he's still a little sweaty and wanting to see her face as they speak. It's a weak question at best, performative, but at heart there's a kernel of sincerity.
She smiled a little and shook her head. "Don't thank me. It's what friends are for. And...well...I probably would be dead if it wasn't for you." she said quietly. It was an unrepayable debt that she owed him. The mention of Mort having a child was news to her, but she deposited that information away for another time. "It's okay. You've all the time in the world. I'll just make you talk whenever you seem on the verge of becoming a shut in." she teased lightly, trying to lighten his mood a bit.
As he shrugged she took the hint and stepped a bit away, releasing the hug she had held him in. His question was leading - away to other topics to distract him. That she could deliver on. She sighed heavily and played with her hair. "Oh nothing much. Our merchant vendor wants to sleep with me terribly so I told him I might when I get free time just to get him to lay off for a bit. His son is just a few years younger than me...I think he is in his mid-thirties?" she said, shrugging. "I mean, I like an older man but...I'm not sure about how old his son is...you know?"
Phoebe did not doubt for a second the rise this would get out of Harper, with his morals about age and whatnot. Just the thing to flip his mood!
He rubs a thumb over her arm, not knowing what to say but offering comfort regardless. In his mind she owes him nothing, and he will maintain that. But if she wants to attribute her life to his single, karmic intervention, he won't invalidate how she feels. Though he does give a brief amused snort at the idea of being a shut in. "First time anyone has threatened me with making me talk, normally they're begging me to stop." Vague amusement curling like smoke around the words, trying to regain some footing and normalcy.
Spinning in the chair again to face her is a mistake, because she speaks it's difficult to conceal his reaction on his face when he's already so emotionally drained. "You know I condemn that level of age gap, why would you bring that up? To make me angry?" His hand grips the back of the chair and squeezes until his tanned skin bleeds white. "You're never going to understand or believe me when I say you aren't ready, that you're too young. Your science and medicine is leagues behind what mine was, and I can't change what you've been indoctrinated into. Why argue it all over again?" Anger flashes in cobalt eyes, but he doesn't dare stand. Doesn't want to look or intimidate in any way, to be accused of being a violent man when he never has been. Each word is crisp and far more grammatically intense than his normal speech pattern, the strongest show of cards that reveals his upset. "I expected you to be stronger than buckling beneath harassment for sex. I thought you valued love and attachment over predatory claims from effective strangers. Or were you just lying to me this whole time? Trying to win your way into my bed or some other such nonsense?" If she wanted anger, she has gotten it. Even in the past he has never been this angry, this frustrated. He never targeted her so directly even when she'd hurt him during their spar. But she has slipped the knife between vulnerable ribs, when his emotions are already so far out of his control.
She hasn't seen Harper truly mad. Even now it only bubbles and grows, not cresting yet. But the betrayal is obvious, that her idea of distracting him is to hurt him.
06-16-2020, 11:48 PM (This post was last modified: 06-16-2020, 11:54 PM by Phoebe.)
PHOEBE
Her eyes widdened in pure shock as he snapped. She had expected him to rile. She had expected a flip of emotion - but one of surprise and bewilderment not anger. As his emotions rise, hers settle, hands clasping infront of her as she held his gaze. Such a display may have once left her cowering in its wake, but no longer. Instead she falls silent, lips pressed tightly together, calm-near-emotionless as he lashes against her in his own controlled manner.
"The purpose was to catch you off guard and surprise your mind into a different mode, not to anger you." she said softly, answering his first questions. Her attempts at humor, the dramatic sigh, the hair twirling, had all been lost on him. Only as his words attacked her own character did her gaze fall to the floor. His opinion of her meant a great deal, and it was difficult to not take even words of anger to heart. She took a slow, steadying breath once he finished his tirade, before lifting her eyes to him again. This time she was prepared, strengthened in her resolve to help him, even now. It was a quiet strength, but strength nontheless.
"You're right. Your world was leagues ahead of mine. I can understand why you would think I'm incapable of comprehending you with that being the case. Though...it's disheartening to know that you really do think I'm too stupid to understand. " she paused, head tilting as she stared at him, warm brown eyes as soft as ever. "I did not give in to anything. I've purposefully made excuses and reasons to be alone and not with him. I've never lied to you, and any desire I've expressed to be with you has been completely genuine." she said very plainly. She had nothing to hide from him after all. Nothing had happened yet...and given his reaction that was likely how things would remain.
"I'm...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have tried to distract you with something so childish. I...it is hard...to know how to help you when you try so hard to hide how you're really feeling." she said softly.
Part of him vindictively wants to ask if she didn't like this side of him. If she wants to say she still wants to be with him, when she's never had the chance or cared to see beneath to the darkness that he has tried so hard to lock away. "You're saying you knew it would bother me, and said it anyway? Why? Phoebe that is cruel. I just told you about my dead fiancée and you chose a topic that you know has, at the very least, exasperated me in the past. You picked that instead of talking about the weather, or recent funny gossip? More positive things?" He won't let it go, won't let her hide away behind 'good intentions' when she had picked a topic she knew was somewhere on the negative scale, even if she thought it wasn't as bad.
"I'm not calling you stupid, I've never once said that. But you've never asked me about my medical knowledge. You've only ever rolled your eyes and called my worries and concerns over age gaps ridiculous. I'm not saying you're stupid, I'm saying you don't seem at all intent on being open-minded enough to change your world view, that you don't respect how uncomfortable it makes me. You want me to change how I feel instead of trying to understand me." He can't help how his eyes go damp, always the type of man to be an angry crier. But regardless of how frustrated and upset he is with her in this moment, he knows she won't look down on him for expressing himself. It's a safety net that allows them to argue like this.
"Your desire may be genuine, but can you imagine how it feels for me? To want to protect you from this man who you say you don't let yourself be alone around, and yet only be a few years younger than him myself? To know how young and reckless and far from mature I was at nineteen?" Voice turning slightly desperate, because she has never expressed wanting to understand his side and he needs her to so badly in this moment. Sighing heavily, he unclenches his hand and rubs over his face, feeling burdened and tired. "I know I hide more than you'd like. But I always thought I was more open than anyone else. I just...there's so much I can't say or bring up without tripping these wires."
