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!
And my hands are not clean, maybe they never will be
Seeing Neron so comfortable helped eaae Korbin's awkwardness. He was perhaps a little surprised that the man chose to stay, but found that he didn't actually mind. The conversation was easy, the tone light... It was as if he could do nothing wrong.
A novel sensation.
"You and everyone else," Korbin replied, quietly amused. "Personally I might just spend the first few days in the air... It's been far too long since I flew." He gazed wistfully off into some imagined distance, longing for a chance to feel the wind in his feathers again. "You really don't feel pain at all? What about heat or cold?" It was a strange concept. Korbin loved the cold, how it bit and burned and revived the senses.
That was not the question he had wanted to ask though. The raven bit his lip, searching for the right words. "I think I asked before, though not in earnest but... How do you handle it? All these people who know who you are and what's happened... they all have opinions and thoughts and don't hesitate to shove their like or dislike at you. How do you cope?" It was perhaps not the most polite question to ask someone - what's it like to be so hated? - and Korbin really didn't mean to be offensive (this time). Might not have asked, if not for a colorless seashell tucked away in a coat pocket somewhere, and the way he had somehow ended up in a similar situation.
But they can still carry you home when you are ready to sleep
”Mm, I wouldn’t blame you. I think a lot of people are starting to get cabin fever.” Then again they had never suffered a LongNight like this one, what with the destruction of the Palace and half of the city still in chaos. If Neron had wings he’d probably be tempted to do the same. Letting his head loll back against the chair, a faint smirk flickered across his lips.
”No pain at all,” he confirmed, sounding quietly relieved about that. ”I vaguely register heat and cold, but... it’s more of an understanding than a sensation.” Being Ascended was weird, there was no two ways about it. But the longer he was this way, the more he was getting used to it. Enjoying it, even.
Korbin’s question was an interesting one, though not one Neron confessed to have given much thought to. He chewed over the reply, considering life since his fall from Warden and people’s reactions to it. ”I suppose... I just... don’t care?” he offered with an honest ring of bemusement. ”I was brought up to serve a monarchy and to believe that my family was right above all others. I guess it makes other people’s opinions just... easy to ignore?”
And my hands are not clean, maybe they never will be
Korbin hummed in quiet agreement. His own mood was definitely not improved by the walls, and with nowhere to really hide there had been too many clashes with others who normally might have simply shrugged him off. "I think it's gotten worse since the portal opened," he mused. "Deepfrost was always rough for the hunters used to challenging the Tundra, but now it's more than that. With the option of fucking off in Torchline for a season suddenly available, I think some are starting to question why they should stay in Halo at all. It's not as if this place is hospitable even at its best." Knowing they could have been somewhere else, and not being able to go there... It had been easier to accept their home for what it was when there was no other choice.
"Hmm. Doesn't it get... dull? Not eating, not sleeping, not feeling... What will you do when you run out of books? Got some other hobby lined up?" Was a barcounter really enough to keep life interesting? The ascending thing really did seem to have more drawbacks than perks.
Hearing the response to his question made Korbin prop himself up on an elbow so he could see Neron properly. After a moment he began to laugh, a quiet chuckle that was both painful and cathartic at the same time. "Is that a trick you can teach? I thought I didn't give a damn, but in reality I just can't seem to stop. Whenever someone talks like they know everything I feel my bloodpreassure rise. Even worse if I hear it from myself." Grimacing he slumped back down on the mattress. "Is there anyone who's opinion you do care about?"
But they can still carry you home when you are ready to sleep
”You think?” Neron sounded mildly surprised to hear that, about the portal. He’d gotten the impression that the people of Halo were a stoic lot, that they were more like to make fun of those in Torchline than leave for it in flocks. But then that had been before Deepfrost, before Longnight... before the Palace fell and the Eirachi took her anger out on the people. Things changed, as Korbin had rightly mentioned. ”We’ll have to see what the new season brings,” he murmured.
The boy’s question was a curious one, and Neron mulled it over and gazed up to watch the shadows dancing along the ceiling. ”I wouldn’t say boring is the right word. I knew what I was getting myself into, and I haven’t run out of books yet.” He smirked. ”I’ll be sure to have other hobbies lined up. Magic always needs more study,” he reasoned.
Tilting his head back down as Korbin propped himself up, Neron flashed him a fanged grin. ”No tricks, unfortunately. What you see is the carefully crafted product of a terrible upbringing.” He chuckled. ”It’s better to care, honestly. Never know when you’re going to need to lean on someone. And I suppose I care about my own opinion. It’s mine, after all.”
06-28-2020, 09:14 PM (This post was last modified: 06-28-2020, 09:16 PM by Korbin.)
KORBIN
And my hands are not clean, maybe they never will be
"Maybe its not true for everyone, or enough to make them actually leave, but... there comes a point where pride starts to feel like a very pointless thing. What exactly are we trying to achieve? Are we staying here just to prove that we can? No one is going to pat our shoulders and hand out rewards for enduring. If it will keep their family safe... why not try somewhere else?" Something in the tone made it difficult to tell if Korbin really was talking about people in general, or if it was his own thoughts. Maybe it was a bit of both. In his case, it was far too late. "As long as it's not more death... but I guess that's too much to hope for. What else does Halo even have to offer?" Turning his gaze up to the ceiling as if to try and spot what Neron had been gazing at, Korbin found his eye growing heavy. Blinking to rid himself of the weariness, he kept talking. Weirdly against the idea of falling asleep. It would be a waste of pleasant conversation. Nonsensical, without challenges or a need to justify anything... Just quietly, guiltily enjoying himself.
"As a kid, I used to be so jealous of Weaver and Erebor for their magic. Earth and fire... the things they could do seemed really incredible. Even now, I keep thinking it wouldn't be a bad thing. Loren said the only way is for the gods to curse you, though... You think he's right?"
The sharp toothed grin somehow made Neron's words feel heavier. Like he was calling himself out for being some kind of monster. It rhymed poorly with what Korbin had experienced so far... But maybe that was the facade. Or maybe Neron wasn't as bad as he - or others - tried to paint him out to be. "Seems there's two, then, at the very least. Who care about your opinion, I mean." Korbin flashed the man a quick smile. "If you had a say, what would you make of the Kraai? There's shady business connections, a greedy market... oh, and theres a hidden door in the kitchen that I can't get to open. I'm open to ideas."
But they can still carry you home when you are ready to sleep
”Some people have always been here, I suppose. They are part of Halo just as much a the Fangs or the Tundra. Anywhere else might feel too warm.” Indeed, the only place Neron seemed to have seen a large migration from was the Hollowed Grounds - but then it was a land that had been stuck behind a barrier for a few centuries, sot hat made complete sense. ”I think it still has some things to offer. The Academy, good people, a beautiful landscape...” The smile that flickered across his face seemed to suggest that he was trying to find things to say, but either way - he quite liked the frozen wasteland.
Humming as he thought about the idea of being cursed with magic, Neron could only shrug gently. ”My twin isn’t the type to lie, and he’s always been the knowledgable sort. I don’t know much about it myself, but if a curse is the way to go, that is probably what needs to happen.” He didn’t say much about the pros and cons of it, of course - Neron lived and breathed magic, and had done his whole life.
But then they were speaking about the Kraai, and the Hailstorm settled further in his seat as he considered what to make of the tavern. ”A hidden door? We’ll have to investigate that,” he said with a laugh. ”Honestly? I would make it the hub for any traveller arriving at the Citadel. You can exploit any deals to be made, shady or otherwise, and keep an eye on anyone coming through or heading out.”
And my hands are not clean, maybe they never will be
"Ain't that the truth," Korbin hummed with some amusement. His own reaction to the lands beyond the Fangs had indeed been similar. Too hot. Lukewarm. Places where the air was thick and cloying, full of water and unfamiliar scents. It was a sign that he had been cooped up inside for too long, this muddling of his mind... only out in the open was he able to think clearly. Breathing deep the icy wind.
"I see. Would your chosen goddess be able to do it, you think? Or maybe I should find a way to piss off one of the Heralds..." It hard to tell if he was serious. Lifting a hand, Korbin gazed at his palm. It had begun to look soft. When did he last hold a weapon, or a tool? "I wouldn't mind being cursed, if it gave me the strength to protect this place. Your idea is good too; from being a weak spot where information was leaked, we could become the opposite. Well... I'd have to learn how to be nice to people first."
He grimaced; it would take a lot of work. More than he knew if he could handle right now. And possibly they would have to find a way to make Morgan trust them... not an easy task.
"Say... if it came to choosing between The Voice or Halo... where would you end up?"
But they can still carry you home when you are ready to sleep
A small frown knitted Neron’s eyebrows together as he considered whether the Voice would be likely to grant magic, and slowly he shook his head. ”I don’t think so,” he said. ”She has her Ascended, but I don’t think she is able to give that kind of power. My advice to you is not to meddle with gods at all if you can help it, especially if you are looking for a curse.” It was a strange thing to want, even if magic would be the outcome.
”There are objects imbued with magic. If you feel as though you need something extra, that is a much safer bet,” he advised; no, no speeches about inner strength from Neron. Why would he? Magic was the key to gaining the most power, in his experience. ”And I wouldn’t say you have to learn to be nice to people... you just need to learn how to lie.” He smirked.
But for all of Neron’s prowess with deceit, he couldn’t lie about the answer to Korbin’s last question, his expression growing somewhat solemn. ”The Voice has the ability to kill me with a snap of her fingers. Our agreement is that she will do so unless she remains the priority. So there is your answer. I can’t be of any use to anyone dead.”
And my hands are not clean, maybe they never will be
Humming thoughtfully, Korbin remained quiet for a while, contemplating the thoughts Neron offered. The advice was sound, and echoing Loren's warnings and his own thoughts... yet he couldn't help but feel a tang of regret at the idea of giving up that dream. But then, he did wonder what cost it would come at, if he did seek out magic. The first time he set foot at the shrine in years he had been cursed, and that was not an experience he wanted to live through again. Maybe they were right; maybe he should stay away from the gods.
But that left him hanging with the tasks Safrin had given him. Would it be better to abandon them, or complete the instructions and then walk away? Something to think about.
As for lying... that wasn't really something Korbin was good at. Or liked doing. But there were other ways, wasn't there? He was a storyteller at the core, and a good yarn required just enough truth to be believable. That would require some thinking too.
He sighed quietly, rubbing his eyes. "I appreciate your honesty. Let's hope it won't come to open confrontation with her. If Morgan has her way though..." He stewed over it for a moment, but found his thoughts too muddled to come up with any solutions. It wasn't as though it was his problem, not really, but... all the same. "If you ever end up in need of help, let me know? As a thanks for the bed."
He shot a lopsided grin at the ascended, and stifled a yawn. Korbin hadn't thought he would be able to sleep at all, but now it crept up on him, slowly but surely.
But they can still carry you home when you are ready to sleep
It wasn’t often, these days, that people appreciated Neron for anything, let alone his honesty. It was almost enough to make him laugh, but it didn’t really feel like the time - especially when it would have been to Korbin, who looked as though he had been through enough shit for the time being.
”We’ll see,” he said of Morgan, shrugging his shoulders. He didn’t quite know what to make of the Warden; she certainly didn’t like him, but she also didn’t seem to be in any hurry to kill him any time soon.
That didn’t mean that there wouldn’t be a confrontation with the Voice, though. More on that in time.
For now it looked like the boy was finally starting to drift off, and so Neron let the conversation die. The Hailstorm couldn’t join him, but he did tilt his head back against the chair and let his eyes drift closed. One could always pretend.
