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!
Cian was no stranger to brothels. When run well they were more lucrative than many other businesses. Tongues wagged as balls sagged, and the Eye had found that information came just as easily as many of the men within. Women too, though they were better at keeping their secrets even when their legs were open.
But it wasn't for the service that the Eye found himself at the door of the Halenani, but for its proprietor. Unfolding a piece of paper from his pocket, Cian glanced down to ensure he had both the correct name and location. It made sense of course, a would-be demigoddess of Frey's running a brothel, but even so, it wouldn't really surprise Cian if one day Finn sent him on some wild goose chase.
Of course that assumed Finn had a sense of humour.
Today, Cian was dressed rather unassumingly. Wearing a fitted and flattering chambray shirt over neatly-pressed beige shorts, the Eye looked...well, almost approachable. Almost.
Opening the door and breathing in the scents of sex and mischief within, Cian let it clang closed behind him and waited to be received by whoever was on shift.
The person on shift just so happened to be a pink dragonling, sitting dutifully by the front desk. Pim eyed the man with a large, silvery pink eye before lazily stretching his wings. As he did so, the edge of it caught the bell on the counter, causing it to clatter to the ground and ring erratically. Pim sniffed it, settling his wings back in place, before looking at the man again. There. Job done.
"This is why I have Branbast to do bell and not you, Pim." came Phoebe's voice as she descended the stairs. She wore a long, flowing dress, comfortable and pretty, thick blonde locks in waves down her back. She didn't recognize the man in the foyer but there were still folks she had yet to meet. "Welcome to the Halenani. Stopping by for an afternoon delight?" she said warmly, a bright smile curving her lips.
A dragon is no surprise to the Eye, given their propensity to bond to only Accepteds. If anything the predator draws a slight hint of a smile from Cian as he moves forward with an unhurried step, kneeling to pick up the bell. Glancing up just as Phoebe descends the stairs, a cinematic moment gone all wrong given the romantic comedy this will certainly never be, Cian drinks the former-midwife in with just a moment's glass, before standing.
"By the sounds of that there might be much worse jobs for you, ey?" Cian muttered towards Pim, his voice warm with amusement. "I'm not, no." The Eye replies, setting the bell back on the counter. "As it happens, I've come here to see you. If you aren't busy, of course."
Though Phoebe doesn't know him, still Cian carries with him an air if importance, even dressed down as he is. Perhaps it's in the confident way he seems to assume she'll comply, or perhaps it's merely his unassuming smile and easy manner with dragons. Or, perhaps she'll tell him to go fuck himself.
Pim grumble growled at the man as if to confirm that yes, indeed there were much worse jobs for him. But unlike Branbast, he couldn't convey that so easily, his words all but imagined by everyone except Phoebe. But she simply patted his head, smiling at her grumpy reptilian companion.
Wide brown eyes looked up at the man, head tilting slightly. Awfully serious fellow, wasn't he? "Me? Well I'm not nearly as fun, I'm afraid." she said with a light laugh. As it was she wasn't terribly busy. "Mind introducing yourself, since you seem to know who I am?" she asked, stepping behind the counter for a moment. The Madame produced two glasses and a few bottles of liquor. "Would you like a drink? We can chat on the porch out back." she said, assuming the man just another merchant looking to strike some sort of deal.
'Not fun I'm lookin' for." Cian replied easily, his voice dusty like a well-worn coat laid out in the sun to fade. "Mmm, how terribly rude of me." He replied with a genuine smile of apology. Placing a hand to his stomach and leaning forward just so, Cian stood again with a smile and strange twinkle in his blue eyes. "Cian ó Broin." The Eye replied, before smiling and nodding at the newly-appeared refreshments.
"A woman after me own heart. Shall we?" Palm up and hand extended so that Phoebe might lead the way, Cian followed with near-silent steps and ever watchful eyes.
On the porch, he took a seat as if he'd visited a hundred times before, looking instantly comfortable in his surroundings. With a leg crossed over the other and his arms spread wide across the back of his chair, he'd wait until the drinks were poured before raising his glass in a toast. "To new friends."
Phoebe laughed lightly, nodding to his words. "A rare breed of man you are, walking into a brothel, not looking for fun." she said lightly. Though it did pique her interest. He didn't particularly sound like he was from Torchline - nor anywhere she had been in Caido - and he seemed far too put together for the rag-tag pirates who called the beach home. His little bow surprised her, only further confirming her suspicions that he was certainly no Torcher. The only people who bowed were like James - over the top, highly ornamental, and dripping with sarcasm. "A pleasure to meet you Cian." she said.
The Madame picked up the tray and set off towards the back. His discerning eyes would find the brothel immaculate, considering the activities that went on within its walls. "A whiskey man I take it?" she asked with a grin, setting the tray on a small table between the two chairs. Whatever it was he preferred, she would pour for him, in a pretty glass. She sat after pouring her own, a light white wine, purposefully chosen for its light alcohol content. Phoebe glanced out at the gardens she had been tending, happy to see the young blooms and buds beginning to bloom. But he took her attention back and she also raised her glass. "To new friends." she said lightly clinking his glass and taking a sip.
"So, Mr. ó Broin...what brought you all the way from wherever your from to make friends with a brothel Madame?" she asked with a small smile, wide brown eyes watching him over her glass.
Before answering, Cian would take a long and slow drink of the alochol in his glass. He was used to much, much finer stuff, but still he seemed to savour it as if it were worth its weight in gold. With the sort of slowness that men and women of great power seem to display, the Eye leaned forward and set his glass down delicately, before leaning back. Raising his eyes slowly to the madame, Cian seemed to consider her question before softly smiling.
"Why, because you're quite special, aren't you Phoebe." He noted, his accent offering a lightnessd that his posture and expression seemed at odds with. "There are not many who are as close to Frey as you have made yourself. Indeed, that particular herald has always had a rather large following but a comparitively small outreach. But you—" Pausing to lean forward slightly, his thin smile widening a touch. "—have managed it."
07-17-2020, 02:53 PM (This post was last modified: 07-17-2020, 02:53 PM by Phoebe.)
PHOEBE
High society - people with power - those frequenting such circles were not foriegn or unknown to Phoebe. She knew what his posture meant, his expression; the words unspoken as he took his time. Only those with power or wealth or both had the leisure of time. Instinctively she sat straighter, clasping her hands primly on her lap. But unlike the man before her, Phoebe was not so deft at hiding her feelings - the white of her knuckles proving this as she tightened her fingers against each other.
Flags raised - she was special, calling upon her closeness to the aloof Frey - and her lips pressed together, wide eyes watching him unwaveringly; doe eyed gaze staring into a darkened forest for the wolf surely lying in wait. Cian would certainly see it as clearly as said doe raising its white tail in alarm - her guard raised, heart fluttering briefly. And as suddenly as she did so, the two were joined by her companions. Pim strolled out to the porch, settling at her side, lips twitching over ivory teeth.
"Tricksy, tricksy, yesssss...twisting spindles winding tales of ancient gales..." Branbast purred, glowering down at the man from a rafter above Phoebe, tail flicking.
07-17-2020, 03:05 PM (This post was last modified: 07-17-2020, 03:13 PM by Cian.)
everyone's a whore
What Cian noticed and what he acted on were two different things entirely. That both companions seems to appear from the woodwork spoke of unease on the part of the midwife, deeper than even the tightening of her knuckles seemed to suggest. The Eye took this all in stride, no stranger to being intimidating. Such a response seemed to come from his unnaturally pale eyes, his learned speech hidden beneath his accent, his ability to be so very still.
"A sear cat." He noted, eyes flicking up to where Branbast offered his apocryphal take on the conversation. "Haven't seen one of 'em in quite a while. Not many ships where I come from." Cian added by way of explanation, decidedly not answering Phoebe's question. Not yet, anyway. "Rare thing, a dragon and a feline. Normally quite at odds, those two. You must be quite the woman to keep both tethered to your soul. But then, I wouldn't be here if you were not."
Branbast's tail flicked, the only movement in his otherwise very still form - for two Toms could play that game. "Travelling far astray, little Cragling." Branbast said, quiet words of acknowledgment. Phoebe didn't move, feeling the support of her companions despite being suddenly thrust into a game of chess she had not prepared for. "Not many ships where I am from either." she said, storing away the information about him. Few ships...cragling...but the only mountains she knew of were the Fangs and no one could live there.
"Must I?" Phoebe said, unconvinced. Briefly she wished Frey was there, but knew better than to call upon them for something so trivial - so human - as feeling uncomfortable with whatever motive this man had come with. He was certainly no merchant, and briefly she wondered what he was after that her connection to Frey would benefit. "Frey does not like their time wasted, nor do I, Mr. ó Broin. Certainly you did not come simply to flatter me."
"Oh day perhaps you'll say that this is where you're from." Cian notes mildly with a light shrug.
"Indeed, you must." He says almost warmly, leaning forward to take the glass from the table with long and careful fingers. "No, I have not. But places like these...they invite flattery." Cian says smoothly, glancing around as rain begins to fall out in the garden.
"Things have a way of repeating themselves...people, plants...choices..." Cian explains (though it doesn't sound like an explanation the way it leaves his lips, but more like a story for before bed). "..one of those cycles is about to repeat itself." Raising his whiskey to his lips, he takes a shallow sip, savouring the burn on his tongue before he swallows.
"What has been done so far...these meetings about the ascended...rumours about the Voice, finding souls, building shrines, the portals...they are small concerns in the wake of what is to come. Children playing at a game they don't understand. The world was destroyed." Cian's faded-denim stare met Phoebe's as he said this, seriousness writ even more strongly across his features.
"There are those of us who would ensure that such a thing does not come to pass again."
Phoebe remained silent. She did not see a reason to explain to him what it meant - how it felt - to be ripped from one world and be thrust into another. To be scorned for it despite her own powerlessness over it. Accepting Caido as where she was from would take much more than time as far as she was concerned.
Slowly, as he went on at length, she sunk back into her chair as if relaxing. But she remained on guard, watching him even as her spine curved to match her chair. But as his words came to a halt, she finally glanced away, out to the garden, watching the rain fall. "I am aware of that possibility. I was one of the very few willing to mark the blight for what it was." she said, glancing at him again. "Though...you probably know that already, don't you?"
She sighed and crossed a leg over the other, not caring that the slit in it showed up to nearly the top of her thigh. It was difficult to live in Torchline and not become more accustomed to having one's body on display. "But it sounds line those people require warriors. I am but a midwife and a Madame, a would be healer. I am of no use to you, and I doubt Frey would care even briefly about it." she said, taking her glass up finally and sipping from it.
Comfortably, Cian nods. He knows all about the blight and the players who had a hand in it, on both sides. If Finn has done his research that is and for at least the time being, the Eye believes he has.
Despite the additional skin on view, Cian's eyes remain pleasantly upon Phoebe's face. Nakedness is something that is no longer a distraction for him. Oh, he partakes in the flesh as often as any man might—will likely indulge himself one of the rooms and the women within of the Halelani before he leaves—but it is what Phoebe represents that holds captive his mind.
"Frey might not. Frey and Rae have always made their lack of interest in these matters rather obvious." Cian agrees. "But when darkness again clouds the world and cities are destroyed, will that truly be your stance? That you are of no consequence? Just a would-be healer?" Draining his glass, Cian tilts his chin slightly in a gesture of skepticism. "Though you belittle yourself now, soon you will be much more than you are, Phoebe. And when that time comes, perhaps you might see things differently."
Phoebe continued to stare into the garden passively, though in her eyes played a myriad of emotions. Distrust, anxiousness, worry - she was deeply conflicted. Once she had tried to help. Once she had worked hard to bring light to the world, to help and heal and give rest. To what end? Her own mental collapse. A nervous breakdown. Attempted suicide. Did she really have it in her to do that again?
"I am not belittling myself. I am very aware of what I am and am not capable of." she said. Certainly choosing her as a Portal Guardian was another of Rae's hints at how little they cared - choosing the most ineffectual people possible as their representative in the group. But his words caught her attention. "What do you mean by that exactly?" she said, looking over at him. Much more than she was? Such changes did not happen overnight.
"So what is the value you see in me then? Someone wholly incapable of standing against an Ascended."
