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!
07-02-2020, 08:23 PM (This post was last modified: 07-03-2020, 09:26 PM by Samuel.)
I want roses set on fire
And I, well I want what’s best for me
This was one of the harder journeys he'd made in his life.
Sam was feeling better physically (and to an extent, mentally: not having to hide in every shadow improved one's psyche somewhat), but he knew that Nate along with the rest of his Ascended 'family' would have words for him, potentially more than that. He knew there would be prices to pay for a long time for what he had done and he still wasn't even sure he'd made the best of decisions overall in the end.
It was all horribly difficult and he hoped Nate might have some empathy for that.
Coming to the door which he believed was Nate and Sunjata's in the early evening, he raised a hand to knock, pausing for just a second to try and centre himself. Nate would likely be mad and he had to be ready to face that: when he felt he was, he knocked.
do you feel at home? your flames are burning higher your circumstance is dire, don't panic. you're frantic
Nate was getting sick of unannounced visitors. Up until recently, no one had come to their door, and now it seemed to be interruption after interruption. And they were rarely fortuitous. He rises from his place in bed, a short whistle leaving him to rouse Haai, the griffin following him down the stairs, nearly pushing him out of the way when he pulls open the door, revealing-
Samuel.
What a cruel joke. All at once, all the pain that he's been so easily ignoring comes rushing back, the man responsible now standing in front of him, for whatever reason. Nate has to blink, just to make sure he's not seeing things, that he hasn't cracked in all his time spent struggling. But no, there the bastard stands, and Nate has no idea how to really react.
After a long moment of staring, Nate sucks in a deep breath through his nose, grounding himself, just to keep from shouting, though it's only so effective, the strain obvious in his voice. "What the fuck do you want?"
this is your hell, dancing for something that was true to you, how do you do? say it's me.
There was a long and obviously hostile silence when Nate opened the door; Sam noticed immediately that he was dishevelled as if he had just gotten out of bed. He looked tired and for a long moment, Sam wondered if he was just going to shut the door again. But no, after a long breath, Nate spoke...ouch.
Trying not to flinch or reflexively jump into defensiveness, Sam nodded. "...Well, I was going to see how you...um...felt, I suppose, about everything, but.." He gestured up towards Nate wordlessly. "I can see. ...I.." Shaking his head, he tried to find the words he needed for this apology, but there really weren't any. It was something he'd practiced a million times in his head and never found a right version of and it wasn't coming now in the right moment either.
"...I never meant for this to happen. Any of it." Was all he finally said, quietly looking down to the doorstep.
do you feel at home? your flames are burning higher your circumstance is dire, don't panic. you're frantic
"How I felt about everything?!" All that effort made to not shout, out the window immediately. Nate stakes a step out of the house, towering over Sam, one eye burning as it focused on the other ascended. Or, ex-ascended? He'd had other shit happening, didn't have time to keep up on Sam's drama, sure as he was that the feeling was mutual. Sam couldn't know what a fantastically shitty time it was for whatever the fuck he was trying to do.
Did that knowledge stop Nate from losing control, at the words that finally left the red headed man, did it stop his fist from crashing into his jaw, knocking him to the ground?
Not at all.
It should have brought more satisfaction, but there wasn't even the sting of impact in his knuckles, and Nate knew the other man didn't feel it either, so it took some of the satisfaction out of it, some of the catharsis away. But it was enough that he straightened again, rolled his shoulders back, and glared down at Sam. "What the fuck was supposed to happen? Was it supposed to kill more people?"
this is your hell, dancing for something that was true to you, how do you do? say it's me.
Oh, Sam knew from the moment Nate spoke that he'd messed this up (though, he would wonder later, was there actually a right way to do it? He didn't know if there was any way to talk his way through this one); he took a step back as Nate came forward, not meeting the man's eyes. There had been a time, however brief, where he'd found Nate's size and power comforting, impressive: knowing how it felt to have it turned against him was terrifying and he didn't use any of his upgrades to fight, not knowing if he deserved to in this particular situation.
Then came the impact. He supposed he should have been expected it but he flew back, landing on his back and hands on the road with a short yell; he didn't feel the pain but he certainly felt the shame of it, sitting up and raising a hand to his jaw in shock. As much as he had come to share sympathy with Nate, to offer his apology...the words stung more than the punch ever could and Sam found himself pressing his lips together as he looked off to the side as he tried to think of what to say that wouldn't cause more trouble.
"I think you know it was supposed to help people." He said quietly, then pushed himself back up onto his feet, standing now a little distance away from Nate. "Believe what you'd like, but I had good intentions...I..Rexanna is one of my dearest friends and I will feel that loss forever. But you need to listen to me. I have things to talk to you about."
do you feel at home? your flames are burning higher your circumstance is dire, don't panic. you're frantic
The glare, the clench of his fist, his fiery anger, all of it should have been easy to maintain, easy to hold onto. But it slips between Nate's fingers like smoke, replaced by a deep loss, by things that aren't entirely the other mans fault, just like the two deaths aren't entirely his fault. He just makes himself such an easy scapegoat, and Nate is ever eager to direct the blame on someone.
As long as it never comes back to him, never adds to the swirling guilt that already fills his guts.
Sam's words only add to the cold water dousing his anger, no matter how he tries to maintain the look, there's a tremble, a crack beginning, though it's impossible to tell what will make it spread. It's a small mercy that the other ascended only mention's Rex's name, that Clem's doesn't touch his lips. If it had, it would be a lot harder for Nate to swallow, to spit out a reply. "What do you have to say, Sam."
this is your hell, dancing for something that was true to you, how do you do? say it's me.
It seemed as Sam got up that some of the tension began to leave Nate, though he still kept his distance. The other man had always seemed like a crackling fire and Sam was never quite sure how long til he burnt out into a full breakdown (it seemed like an inevitability, in a way that reminded him of himself, except that his pain burnt inwards and Nate's outwards).
He sighed; this really wasn't the environment where he had wanted to make this kind of offer. Perhaps it would have been better left until another day, but he supposed Nate may not want to see him again. This was his chance. "I wanted to...well, first I wanted to ask if you blamed me for what happened. That's rather obvious, so." Sam would have laughed here if the situation at all permitted it: it didn't.
"Then..I know that you've felt...trapped, by the Voice, before. And that perhaps..that's my fault." Sam was still very unsure about that last point (in his mind, Nathaniel had consented in full knowledge to Ascending, really). "I want to try and find which Ascended feel like that. There must be more. The Voice...I feel like she'd be open to a discussion about what we could do to...make our lives better. It might be worth a try."
do you feel at home? your flames are burning higher your circumstance is dire, don't panic. you're frantic
Some small, hopeful part of him had hoped that for once in his life, Sam might be concise. Might get to the point, instead of repeating himself, instead of stating the obvious. Perhaps the silent comparison to a crackling fire wasn't quite right. It was more apt to describe him as a boiling pot, there was a time limit, and all Sam was doing was turning up the heat.
"I feel trapped by a lot of things Samuel." This conversation, for one, though he had just enough of a hold on his tongue to not say it. Haai comes up beside him, a boon for Sam, Nate's temper cooling just a touch with her closeness, his hand dropping to run through her fur. He licks his lips, and tries to think about what he wants to say first, about how to respond, but what eventually falls from his lips is spur of the moment, off the cuff.
First: "So you went back to her then?" There's surprisingly little judgment in Nate's voice, in his face as he says this. "Then you should know, better than anyone, that unless we have a perfect argument, nothing is changing. Regardless of how I, or you, or any of us feels about it, she thinks we're perfect." They were far from, as far as he was concerned, as far as he'd been dealing with, but that wasn't the issue. The issue was proving it.
this is your hell, dancing for something that was true to you, how do you do? say it's me.
Sam raised his eyebrows at Nate's remark, unsure what it referred to: his Ascension, his home in Torchline...his relationship with Sunjata? Perhaps he was just incredibly unawares, but Sam really was not sure what Nate was referring to; still, he didn't ask any more, knowing it would probably just provoke him further.
He looked down to see Haai appear in the door; thankfully her presence seemed to calm Nate a bit, though Sam hoped that it didn't mean Sunjata would be there too. He couldn't handle two people at once arguing with him at the moment and it had to be expected that Sunjata would take Nate's side. At least it seemed like Nate listened to him, though his response wasn't great: Sam sighed and looked down at the ground, where scuff marks in the dusty street still showed where Nate had knocked him to the floor.
"..I did. It was that or die, and after what happened, I..." He trailed off, not really wanting to justify his decisions to Nate: what he could argue was their chances with the Voice. "I feel like if more than one of us goes at once, maybe with an organised list...more than just one of us asking at the shrine in the moment...don't you think it's worth it to try? Just to improve our lives? I know you must be sad you can't enjoy your life with Sunjata fully."
do you feel at home? your flames are burning higher your circumstance is dire, don't panic. you're frantic
Nate understood. Any choice where one option was death was hardly a choice at all, unless. You were strong enough to be a martyr, and few were. He certainly wasn’t. Sam absolutely wasn’t. It’s maybe the only part of Sams words that he understands though, the rest of it sounding like idealistic nonsense. The other man had seen the very bottom of the barrel, and still didn’t understand he was an ant, compared to the sun, a grain of sand to the ocean.
”She’s not going to listen to us. Even if we are in a group. Are you really so eager to go back to having nothing?” There was venom aplenty in Nate’s voice, along with a deep, distant pleading, the desperate wish to leave things how they are, so they can’t get worse. He can only handle so much worse.
”I am tired of trying to hope for more.” Nate wants to fly into a rage at the words, the insinuation that there was something wrong with his relationship, as if the reason for that something wrong wasn’t the one spouting nonsense before him. He wishes he’d knocked Sam into the dirt a little harder, but can’t muster any of that violence now. Instead, he sighs, shoulders dipping. ”As long as I don’t lose anything else, I’ll be fine.”
this is your hell, dancing for something that was true to you, how do you do? say it's me.
Sam struggled not to roll his eyes at Nate's question, finding the other man's constant jibes and arguing exhausting; how had he ever been attracted to this angry idiot? He wondered how Sunjata had stayed this long, when the Arbiter seemed to at least possess an ounce of politeness and a brain. "Of course not. But are you willing to always settle for less?"
He supposed it was bold of him to intend to demand more from the Voice so soon after her restoring him to functionality, but Sam so desperately needed to change his Ascended life...it had occurred to him that he had never been in love with another Ascended and he would likely live much longer than any partners; suddenly he wondered if Nate had dealt with the same problem. "But you will lose something else. Eventually Sunjata is going to get old. Wouldn't you want to ask the Voice for a chance to do that with him? See if she'd let you?"
do you feel at home? your flames are burning higher your circumstance is dire, don't panic. you're frantic
"There's a time, a place, and a person for making deals, and none of it is right. I'm smart enough to wait until there's an opportunity." The more he speaks, the more calm Nate's voice grows, the more his tightly clenched fists relax at his sides. He's not quite ready for a conversation, not right now, not with Sam, but he's open to an idea, if nothing else.
And that's maybe the greatest shame, out of all of this, is that Nate agrees with Sam. It not the time or the place to ask him, not by a long shot, but he agrees. Wants better, thinks that maybe if they did have a few good points, a somewhat united front, they could lever for change. Now, Nate doesn't want a thing to do with the other man.
"What the..." Nate can barely get the words out before his face is twisting, anger overtaking him once again. Honestly, why does he even bother trying to not get aggressive, when all anyone else ever seems to do is push him? "What the fuck is wrong with you? You fucking come out here, all high and mighty back in the flock again, your hands still fucking red with the blood of someone I love, and you have the fucking nerve to tell me about things I'm going to lose? You fucking," He takes a step forward, Haai stepping with him, cutting him off, "rat."
this is your hell, dancing for something that was true to you, how do you do? say it's me.
"There is never going to be a perfect time." Sam bit back, the frustration clear in his voice: he knew well from experience that waiting for the 'right time' to do most things was a fools game, chances and opportunities disappearing in the distance while caution held him back.
However, any chance he had of convincing Nate of that had clearly vanished the second he'd brought up Sunjata; Sam stepped back, immediately knowing he'd made a mistake. He seemed to have an ability to say the absolute worst thing in any situation and only realising once the words had already left. Had he had fight left in him he would have argued with the idea of his hands being red, would have told Nate to face facts...but all he felt was the sting of another failure and with it clear he was never going to prove himself here...
Sam held up his hands. "Alright. I'll go. If you reconsider, you can find me at Zeph's house." With that he would turn, ready to walk away if Nate didn't stop him.
do you feel at home? your flames are burning higher your circumstance is dire, don't panic. you're frantic
There might never be a perfect time, but the other things were blocking stones they could tackle. Or, could have tackles, had Nate not decided in that instant that he didn’t give a fuck what the other man was doing at the moment, no matter it might benefit him or how much he might agree with it. It was almost a shame. All the good intentions in the world couldn’t stop Sam from standing in his way.
Still, despite everything, Nate couldn’t bring himself to actually tell Sam to fuck off, to ignore his words and stalk back into his house. He growled a terse ”I’ll keep it in mind”, before watching the other ascended walk away, Haai leading him back inside once the other was out of sight.
~Done
this is your hell, dancing for something that was true to you, how do you do? say it's me.
