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!
07-27-2020, 11:27 PM (This post was last modified: 07-27-2020, 11:28 PM by Remi.)
he said "i bet you don't remember me"
Leaving a feather might have been...too much. In some ways, it might be like leaving a toenail clipping or bundle of hair. Just because feathers are used in jewelry and other dainty and quaint trinkets, did not make it any less the case that Remi shed part of his body and left it behind. And why did he?
Fuck if he knew.
It had felt right at the time, but as dawn yawned her way across the skies and the Alchemist awoke to the sound of rain, he wondered about it. The feeling still felt right, but not knowing the source left Remi feeling uneasy. Leaving a groggy Ronin still sleeping with a note about needing to check and make sure The Man hadn't choked on his own tongue, Remi slipped into the early morning light on pale wings.
If he made it in and through Finn's open window before the man awoke, he'd take the feather back.
He'd...yeah, he'd definitely, probably, take it back.
THE ALCHEMIST
and i said, "only every other memory".
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
The Man hasn’t choked on his own tongue in the night, thankfully. The Man, in fact, is still asleep. Whatever amount of tea or powder (both, unknown to Finn) that Remi gave him the day prior, Finn is dosed and out for the count. The room at the inn is frigid just as it had been when Remi stepped inside yesterday, the open window inviting in the smell of rain and sea salt.
And Finn is right where the Alchemist left him, bandaged with the blanket of the bed strewn carelessly across every part of it except for where the Spyglass is laying. If he’s cold - and he probably is - it doesn’t show; whilst Finn’s body doesn’t dare let him move with ribs as bruised as his are, he’s at least been able to bury his face partially in the pillow, an arm having snuck beneath it to grab it closer.
Still, it looks like he might stir soon. Probably. Certainly not soon enough to stop Remi from taking back his token.
Ronin and Remi sleep with their windows open as well. But with the heat generated from the two of them, they still wake up covered in a light sheen of sweat. Finn, on his own, and very likely fighting infection has not managed to heat up the room in the way Remi might have otherwise expected.
Rather than going immediately for the feather, the Alchemist shifts as silently as he can: from bird to man sitting upon the windowsill like some wayward Peter Pan. In his fingers there suddenly appears a blanket. But as with his tea-cup the night before, it is not of standard make. The blanket is weighted, except for a panel precisely where Finn's ribs will be, that is simply filled with down. Carefully and with his breath held, Remi slowly spreads the blanket across the Spyglass, doing his best to ensure that the panel is placed properly across his ribs so as not to cause him any additional pain or difficulties breathing.
THE ALCHEMIST
and i said, "only every other memory".
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
A shiver runs through Finn as the blanket is so carefully draped over him; not necessarily out of cold, but it’s more the realisation that he was cold and now that’s changing. Humming a sleepy note of contentment, he doesn’t quite stir, nestling further into the pillow and exhaling deeply. And it looks like it will stay that way for some time, at first, especially as the heat begins to kindle beneath the blanket to wrap around him.
But wakefulness is coming for him, and a few minutes later stormy eyes framed with long lashes peek open, just about, the shadows beneath them much reduced if never quite erased. A hand appears from beneath the blanket, sneaking up to rub at his face, the stubble on his cheeks, before flinching away at the bruising reminder that oh yeah, he got mugged.
As Finn stirs, Remi freezes. Deep, deep inside is the lingering instinct to crush the adorable sounds right out of the Spyglass's throat, as if anything so tender and innocent shouldn't be allowed to exist here. Not in this room. Not between these men.
Moving away from the bed toward the two chairs that sit near the foot of it, Remi cocks his head to the side and listens. Gravely. Carefully. He can't tell what he wants more, for Finn to wake up, or stay asleep, and it roots him in place. Absently he picks up his magical shirt, discarded on a dresser the night before. Clutching it in his fingers as the Spyglass stirs as if the stained white material will serve as some visible justification for why he's here, Remi sets his jaw as Finn stirs properly towards wakefulness.
"I'm here, and you're fine. Don't panic." The last thing he needs—Finn needs—is for Remi's presence to shock him into twisting and aggravating his injuries. Still, the words don't come at all close to all the things he wants to stay instead, but at least his tone somewhat conveys a hesitant (if not dangerous) sort of concern.
THE ALCHEMIST
and i said, "only every other memory".
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Remi is lucky - the drugs in Finn’s system have not entirely worn off yet, and it’s like thinking through soup, trying to figure out what’s going on. The Alchemist’s words filter through to him slowly, reaching in fingers of awareness and prompting him to tuck his hand back beneath the blanket. ”Mm... You stayed?” He rides the words out on a sigh, his voice still thick with drowsiness. It’s obvious that he’s not going anywhere presently.
Blinking a couple of times to try and clear his vision (he’s half successful), he peeps over at Remi holding the shirt, more snug in bed than a grown man has any right to be. ”The landlady brings up coffee a little after dawn,” he mumbles, not entirely aware of what the time is and if he’s missed the knock at his door. ”If you want some, I mean.”
"I did for a time, but I didn't sleep here." He awkwardly answers. A simple no would have done just fine, but it seemed strangely important to both mention that he'd lingered, but also hadn't stayed.
Snorting a touch at that, the Alchemist offers Finn a crooked smile. "It's well after dawn, now." He replies. Indeed, despite the stormclouds having never ceased their efforts to drown Torchline, the sun is out there. Somewhere. "But I can make you some if you want. And..there's water, by the bed." Remi can hear the cotton-quality of Finn's voice and thinks perhaps going straight for coffee or tea wouldn't suit him as well as the water would.
The water with the feather next to it.
The Alchemist's eyes snap to Finn's bedside where the pale feather remains. A cold thrill shoots up from Remi's spine into the back of his head, but now that Finn is awake he remains fixedly where he is.
THE ALCHEMIST
and i said, "only every other memory".
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
”Mm... okay.” Finn, apparently, is not nearly so eloquent upon just waking (and with sleeping medicine still racing through his system). His base functions might be awake but the rest is still buried deeply in his pillows, and will not be up for another while yet. ”It is? Damn.” His brow furrows at that, the Spyglass squinting at the window like it might tell him how much of the day he’s lost.
”I’ve got to get to work,” he says absently, going precisely nowhere at the same time. It’s hard to want to, with the strange and comfortable weight of the blanket over him, and he lets his head tilt back again into the comfort of the bed. ”Maybe in a little while,” he says of the coffee, glancing at the water and smiling in sleepy gratitude. He obviously doesn’t see the feather.
”Did you come back to wake me?” he asks softly, a little puzzled.
"Does that mean you'll be leaving our rainy shores then? From what I've heard, you and your lot have already spoken to all of us." The part of him entirely opposed to this recruiting effort did indeed want to hear that Finn was packing up. But that was only a very small sentiment, compared to the larger picture forming.
"No, I'd have let you sleep. I did to be quiet." Remi replies, the latter words subtly apologetic. "I came to make sure you were still alright. You were when I left but..." Well, as soon as I woke up I thought of you and had to come to make sure you were still alright. And if you were dead, it needed to be me who found you. "...and I left my shirt." He concluded, twisting the garment in question in his hands.
THE ALCHEMIST
and i said, "only every other memory".
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
”Almost all,” Finn murmurs - though someone may have already spoken to Sunjata in the time since he’s been... well. Helping to clean up after dead children, not sleeping, getting mugged and so on. ”If that’s true, though, then... yes. I suppose I will be going home.” Back to the smell of dark wood and old books and the feel of cool stone underfoot. Back to his study and his solitude.
He blinks over at Remi, a smile hidden beneath the blanket, and nods gently. ”It was about time I woke anyway,” he mumbles, mostly to cover the awkward feeling at someone... checking on him. People don’t check on Finn - he checks on himself, and when he fails he deals with it. ”Your shirt? Oh, yes... you did. Leave it, I mean.”
Catching his own foggy thinking, a frown furrows his brow, and he begins the laborious process of getting his elbows under him to start trying to sit up. ”That medicine must be good stuff. I don’t even remember falling asleep.”
"Are there more of you, in other areas then? I know there are the Rae-twins who live in the Hollowed Grounds. And presumably some in Halo as well." It isn't as though they have a big meeting every so often to get together, swap stories, and welcome new members. For all Remi knows, the number of demigods are far smaller than his strange sampling of friends would suggest. "And...where is that? Home?"
Is it too early for a personal barrage of questions?
"Mmm. It's magical, or else I would have just.." He trails off, with a shrug.
"Gently." Remi reminds the Spyglass, though judging by the man's face, his body has already given that particular warning. Snorting, Remi moves towards the windowsill and leans against it, the breeze against his neck a welcome reminder of the realness of the world outside. That there still exist things outside the two of them and this room. "You fell asleep...quite quickly." Remi says, amusement dimpling his cheeks for a moment.
THE ALCHEMIST
and i said, "only every other memory".
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
It’s far too early for a barrage of personal questions, but that doesn’t stop Remi. And Finn is too foggy to do much more than answer them. ”Mmhm. We go where the information is,” he says, words tapering off momentarily so he can get himself sat up with a wince and a grumble of unhappiness. Taking a few moments to breathe once he’s upright - and another few to let his head clear from the dizziness, he sluggishly reaches out for the water.
”It’s called Stormbreak,” he says, taking a slow, small sip from the glass. ”But you didn’t hear that. You heard: I’m not at liberty to discuss that.” A small smirk, fired at Remi across the room. Finn replaces the glass, fingers brushing over a pale feather, and he tilts his head. ”What’s this?” he asks.
There’s a flush of colour to his pale cheeks, hearing he fell asleep quickly. ”I don’t hear that all too often.”
The Alchemist raises a brow, looking appropriately smug for having been offered this illicit bit of information. "Gods Finn, you're like talking to a brick wall." Remi murmurs in response as if the official answer was the only one the Spyglass had offered.
What was it, indeed.
Turning to look at the feather, his lips roll back under his teeth as if trying to deduce the point of the feather himself. Oh, I shed sometimes. Sorry about that. But it was placed too purposefully next to the glass for it to have been mere happenstance. What about, Oh, well you'd see the feather and think of me, and know the water wasn't poisoned. Only...most hawks don't have Remi's plumage; a pale feather would be a poor calling card for someone who'd never seen the Alchemist shifted. And of course, I..wanted you to have it was an unspeakable thing.
And so, after far too long simply staring at Finn's finger against the vein of one of his feathers, the Alchemist pulls in a breath and shrugs as casually as he can manage. "They make good quills." He mumbles at last, internally threatening his cheeks that he'll slice them off if they dared to blush.
"Well, at least you let some things help you sleep." Clearly he's not still salty about his discarded star-charm.
THE ALCHEMIST
and i said, "only every other memory".
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
”Perk of the job,” Finn replies, a lopsided smile on his face as he tilts his head back against the headboard, twirling the feather very gently between long fingers. He is remarkably oblivious to Remi’s silence, to the awkwardness of it. It’s difficult to pay attention to social cues when one is so bad at them to begin with, after all. ”A good quill,” he remarks, starting to sound a touch more put together at least. ”Then that’s what it will be.”
His gaze lifts at the softly offered comment, something guilty in his expression. ”I’m not good with people, Remi. With gifts, or... things like that.” Kindnesses, even small ones, are difficult to bear. ”But I shouldn’t have spurned you like that. I’m sorry.” It may have only been a few minutes since waking, but clearly the sleep has done its job for Finn.
