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!
07-03-2020, 07:34 PM (This post was last modified: 07-04-2020, 06:23 PM by Nate.)
you don't know me, don't you think that i get lonely?
It's been a harrowing handful of weeks. Honestly, he doesn't want to be here, doesn't want to be too far away from home, for different reasons than before, though reason really doesn't matter at this point. Nate feels like he's been scoured inside, everything stripped clean and then replaced, slightly off, too much taken away without anything to replace it. No matter how uncomfortably he sits in his own body now, enough has returned to normal that he needs no more than Pemota to escort him to the shrine, a sharp and shiny volcanic rock clutched in his hand, his thumb rubbing at it's smooth surface as he slowly makes his way into the cave.
Honestly, Nate isn't sure what to expect. Isn't even really sure how to start thinking about it, though his trepidation is shown clearly in the way the starwhal winds around him, content to get close on her own terms, curling around his shoulders, his back, then fleeing out of reach when Nate moves too quickly, when he looks at her too long. He tries to not give it too much thought, to focus only on what he's come to the shrine to do, to ask for.
Some deep part of himself tells him to get on his knees, to pray properly, but it's an urge, a habit that he resists, sitting instead on the cave floor and looking up at the statue silently, trying to get his words in some kind of order before speaking, trying to narrow down everything to something witty, something snappy. Trying to crystallize all of his pain into something easy to communicate.
Nate sets down the rock, keeping his hands free now, though he still hasn't worked out his words, still doesn't know what to say. "Everything got all fucked up, huh?" His voice cracks over the words, though the slip up is hidden with a humourless laugh. Right now, it would almost feel better to not be answered, to work through his breakdown alone, until enough shame filled him that he could bury it all down and leave again. God, this had been easier when he could drink.
"Can you... tell me if he's okay? Or with you, or... whatever happens when we die?" A single blue eye lifts away from the ground, looking up at the statue, waiting to be answered or ignored. This isn't what he'd meant to ask, but he can't stop himself from letting it slip out first, before he asks for his own selfish needs.
Nate is turning in his random god encounter! thank youuuuu
The sound of her echoes throughout the cavern, but she does not appear right away. Instead that static light which precedes her will seem to pulse around Nate, to rejuvenate him, to fill him with a sense of warmth and calm against the torrent of the oncoming conversation.
When the Voice does come into view, she is standing with Pemota, fussing the starwhale and gazing upon Nate with a touch of sadness in her eyes. ”He is with me, as are they all,” she confirms. ”At peace, not suffering. He is alright.” A brief nod.
”But you are not, bright one.” Inside or out, by the look of it. ”I can sense it in the workings of you.” Because of course she knew it all - that was part of the deal.
you don't know me, don't you think that i get lonely?
A humourless twist quirks Nate's lips as the voice, the Voice's voice, echoes around him, just as her light does. He tries to let his shoulders drop, tries to let it hold him like a warm blanket, but he can't quite fully sink into the comfort of it.
He can't quite meet her eyes either, when she appears, though he can feel the delight, the easy comfort Pemota takes in her appearance. The reassurance, at least, does it's job, Nate's eye slipping closed as he nods back at her, his chin dropping down against his chest. It's surprisingly cathartic, to have an answer, and he realizes suddenly why people become so devout, when they feel like their questions are being answered. He could get used to it too.
There's another joyless laugh, though this one quirks his lips, has him leaning back to look at her, the perfect picture of hollow mirth. "Is it that obvious?" Of course it was. Of course it was. Just look at him. But even here, he's hesitant, wary still. "I don't... expect your help with all of it. But... I'd like to be able to see properly." Everything else, the scarring, the mental duress without rest or relief, he could work through himself, could grow to accept or learn to help it. And he doesn't want to be greedy, doesn't want to ingratiate himself too much.
07-15-2020, 09:30 AM (This post was last modified: 07-16-2020, 12:31 PM by the VOICE.)
the VOICE
”Yes.” The Voice smiles, a pale hand drifting over Pemota, fussing over the star whale for a few moments before she turns her attention properly to Nate, moving to stand before him. She would not insult him with pretty words, knowing all too well his opinion about the Ascended and his struggle with it. Raising a brow at his next comment, the Voice tilts her head and reaches out, cupping his chin to tilt up his head that she might better examine the damage.
”Bright one, I would not see any of you go without,” she says, static eyes moving over the scarring, the injuries, cogs already turning to see what might be done. ”Is that all? To be able to see properly?” she asks - regardless of his answer, she clearly already has ideas.
you don't know me, don't you think that i get lonely?
Last time she'd come close enough to touch him, to hold his face, Nate had closed his eyes, refused to look until she had moved away again. Now though, he doesn't stop himself from drinking in the Voice's visage, unblinking despite the static light surrounding her.
He goes without a lot of things, as far as he's concerned, but that's neither here nor there, not the topic of today's discussion. Not when he is, as much as he can let himself, reaching out for her.
"Seeing is... the most important part." The murmured response comes after a moment, Nate's brows trying to pull together in quiet concern, before he licks his lips, voices a thought. "Unless you have some way to keep it from happening again." Words that would be a joke, in any other situation, that come out worryingly sincere here. Only then does he glance away, working his jaw. "Whatever idea you have, I... I'll accept it."
She reaches up, fingertips brushing across the scars on his face, expression enigmatic at best, but the optimistic might read it as something protective, something unhappy to see him injured. ”Not for your other eye - I would still advise against having that one removed,” she murmurs. A joke? From the Voice? Wonder of wonders. ”But for the replacement? We can certainly make it more long lasting,” she confirms with a nod.
Withdrawing at last, she moves to walk around the shrine, admiring the previous offerings left there. ”I will need a few things to do this work,” she advises. ”Some may not be so easy to find. I will need a reasonably sized diamond - the size of an eyeball, unsurprisingly enough. ”And the blood from a Seer Cat. Once you have those, return here on a night when there is a storm.”
you don't know me, don't you think that i get lonely?
There is no flinch, though Nate does stiffen as cool, staticy fingers move across his face, across scars that seem like they should be far more tender still. It's a pity he's not in the mood to appreciate her joking, but he does nod back, settling more and more into her presence, into the aura of protection she seems to exude.
"Of course." Nate responds immediately, glad for the chance to feel like he's working for this, instead of simply receiving it. "Whatever you need." The ingredients for a new eye seem simpler than he expected though, simpler than some of the things he'd helped his brothers and sisters gather for their own quests, a thought that he keeps to himself. Instead, he nods again. "I can do that. I..." He pauses, lifts a hand to rub at his mouth. "Thank you."
Her smile is enigmatic as she lifts his thoughts from his mind, the Voice raising an eyebrow at him. ”You clearly have never tried to catch a Seer Cat,” she says wryly, ”Let alone bleed it.”
Still, perhaps his task is easier than it ought to be. Perhaps she is trying to throw him a bone, or earn his trust. She has lost enough bright ones, and she is keen to keep the ones who are left close.
”Is there anything else?” she asks, tilting her head, as if to ask whether his eye and the loss of one of their youngest is all that is on his mind.
you don't know me, don't you think that i get lonely?
There's a weak snort from Nate, a scoff. It's overconfidence maybedefinitely, but he's not going to let a cat, smart or not, get the better of him. "I have more to gain than a cat has to lose."
Anything else? Sure there is. Lots. He's been through a lot, and he has ideas, and suggestions, and requests, but Nate also remembers how well all of that went last time. And he's already gotten more than he expected, a simple task and the promise of his sight returned, maybe more. His head shakes slowly, and Nate looks back up at his goddess, something light, appreciative, in his eyes. "No... thank you. I..." A smile twists his lips, "I'll be back."
Slowly, he struggles to his feet, begins the long walk home. And if Pemota snuggles closer to him, tolerates his hand coming up to stroke her, it's not something Nate thinks about, except maybe to appreciate it.
