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!
07-31-2020, 08:29 PM (This post was last modified: 07-31-2020, 08:34 PM by Ianto.)
IANTO
Ianto snorts and shrugs, as if only half remembering the story himself. ”I’ve no idea. All I remember is the fox promising not to eat the gingerbread man, but swimming deeper and deeper until the cookie had to climb on his nose. Then the fox ate it. Good story.” He sniggers; of course he wasn’t the type to remember the whole tale, just the part with the food.
He looks Remi up and down as well, as if to accuse him of the same not-being-human, only to flash a crooked smile in his direction, giving a roguish bow. ”Are you sure? We both know your track record with memories,” he says jokingly, his gaze softening somewhat as the Alchemist continues. Reaching out, the fox swipes the pipe from his lips.
”You should find the piece of yourself who could make really good wine,” he suggests (duh). ”That would be a good start. And maybe the part who could laugh at things.”
he had eyes like rain & hair like waves & a soul as vast and deep as the ocean
Remi gives his friend a sidelong glance, both incredibly amused but also quite tempted to roll his eyes. In fact, he does both: chuckling and letting his eyes roll upwards to the heavens as if silently asking the gods how such a man has made it this far, he sticks out his foot sideways that he might interrupt the fox's path.
"Come to think of it, I can't believe I ever let you fill in my missing memories for me." Remi scoffs, his teeth clicking after the pipe as if he meant to lunge out and take it back. Eyes narrowed as he recalled all the things Ianto has ever told him about his missing slices of time, had much of it not been either repeated (like the great sex) or talks of a tea house, Remi might have had absolutely no reason to believe a word of it. 'I'm surprised more of what you told me didn't focus around food, to be honest."
Oof. Ianto with that one-two punch of comedic relief and blunt honesty. "Well. Lucky for you..." Pausing, Remi reaches for one of Ianto's hands, and instantly a cup appears in it. It slowly fills with a warm ruby-purple coloured liquid that smells as rich and dense as the storm brewing over the ocean does. "Now if only I had a friend who could make me laugh...Perhaps we'll find one on the way."
THE ALCHEMIST
& i guess i didn't mind d r o w n i n g in him.
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Distracted by their conversation as he is, Ianto does indeed trip over Remi’s foot, the bell on his laces tinkling merrily as he attempts to right himself, huffing out a startled laugh. ”You bastard,” he accuses warmly, turning to walk backwards, folding his arms across his chest. ”Excuse me - I told you all the important bits. Though I’ll give you that - I should’ve told you more about the food. Like the time you fed me chicken legs at a wedding,” he says, grinning.
His hand caught by Remi’s, the fox pauses, puzzled for a moment, only for honest delight to flicker over his face as the drink appears. ”Someone has been practicing,” he says, no small hint of envy in his expression. ”Mm, perhaps we’ll find one. I’m such a bore, you’ll not get any laughs from me.” Taking a sip of the wine (presumably), Ianto hums an appreciative sound, then puts the pipe back between his lips.
”Y’know this is the best walk I’ve been on in ages.”
he had eyes like rain & hair like waves & a soul as vast and deep as the ocean
"Ah, ah." Remi scolds, wagging a finger. "For all the things my father wasn't, married shockingly was not one of them." Watching with a rapt green stare as the fox begins to walk backwards, the Alchemist can only set his lips into a thin line of amusement. "You do know I can still trip you, even while you stare at me?" So saying a bit of driftwood that certainly hadn't always been in the fox's path, suddenly was. "At a wedding? Whose?" Grinning stupidly now, Remi fixes his friend with a lopsided smile. "And why did I have to feed you, anyways? You're fairly capable."
It is indeed wine, and though he doesn't laugh, Remi's smile is entirely boyish and bright. Ianto has always been able to coax that out of him when he wasn't sending the Alchemist on emotional spirals, anyway. "I'll take that to mean you've not been out of your wagon lately, then." Remi counters, finding compliments far too hard to accept from the fox. "Speaking of, have you folded up your wagon and brought it with you? Or is it pacing by the Mathair awaiting your return?" Most wagons didn't pace around, but if any did, it would be Ianto's.
THE ALCHEMIST
& i guess i didn't mind d r o w n i n g in him.
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
With his pipe between his lips and a smug expression on his face, Ianto does not see the driftwood, and indeed stumbles spectacularly over it. To his credit though - he doesn’t spill a single drop of wine. ”Oi!” he objects, cursing in the lyrical Fae tongue, huffing out a breath of smoke that’s ruined entirely by the smile. He offers the pipe back to Remi, taking another healthy sip of wine before holding that out too. Sharing is caring and all that.
”I think it was Ashetta and whats-his-name. But I was more focused on the chicken. You were feeding me because I showed up as a fox and was hiding under the table.” He shrugs, seeming placated by that bright smile even though he hasn’t drawn a laugh out of the other man (yet). The mention of his wagon, though, causes Ianto’s blue eyes to light up with wicked excitement, and he digs in his pockets for a second before pulling out - no word of a lie - a teensy tiny itty bitty replica of the Wishing Wagon.
He practically trundles over to Remi in his amusement, getting close enough to put their heads together, like they’re conspirators in on some kind of plot. Holding up the wagon, Remi will see that it is exactly the same. ”The lights are on in it if you squint a bit,” Ianto says proudly.
he had eyes like rain & hair like waves & a soul as vast and deep as the ocean
"Careful, old friend." Remi warns, looking charmingly smug with his dimples and mischievous gaze. Accepting both drink and the pipe (he did notice how Ianto spilled not a drop and adored him a bit for having his priorities in order), the Alchemist nods towards the beach ahead of them to suggest perhaps the fox ought to pay more attention.
"Oh right...Alistair? He...gods..." In that moment Remi remembers Rexanna and Alistair leaping off a bridge together soon after they all arrived here. Shaking his head and placing the pipe in his mouth as he swirled the wine, he merely grinned to himself at the memory. "A fox mm? Oh right, you and Ash...you'd had a ... thing, hadn't you?" Something about Ianto being under her porch, if memory served (which, as the fox pointed out, it didn't always).
As the fox moves closer, the Alchemist can't help but inhale far more sharply than he'd care to admit to. He doesn't move away, though feathers do trail down the back of his neck as he focuses on what's between his friend's figures. Indeed squinting, Remi considers this for a moment (not at all savouring the smell of woodsmoke and juniper his friend carries with him), before standing straighter and scoffing. "Leaving those lights on is a fire hazard you know. If your pocket erupts in flames I will absolutely throw you into the ocean." Putting the glass of wine to his lips to hide any other expressions that threaten to show themselves, Remi takes a large swallow. "Though, I suppose that'll put to bed the question of whether or not you can swim."
THE ALCHEMIST
& i guess i didn't mind d r o w n i n g in him.
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
With another curse that, whilst in a foreign tongue is undoubtedly directed at Remi, Ianto vows to keep a closer eye on the beach and any objects that might mysteriously find their way into his path. ”Alistair - that’s the bastard.” He nods in confirmation, though the amusement in his eyes dies a bit at the mention of Ashetta. ”Mm. When I was a kid I was with Warren when he saw her after she’d killed someone. Scarred for life, good fun and all that.”
If Ianto notices Remi’s sudden awkwardness, he decides not to show it or act upon it, the fox wrinkling his nose and scoffing. ”It won’t catch fire and I can swim,” he informs the other man haughtily, straightening up as well. ”Just for you, though, I’ll go and turn ‘em off.”
Ianto tosses the little wagon onto the sands before them, where it lands as a firecracker might. There’s a distinguishable POP! sort of noise, before the wagon balloons out into full size, lanterns flickering within. ”Home sweet wagon,” the fox announces, marching forward to go and make it marginally more fire-proof.
he had eyes like rain & hair like waves & a soul as vast and deep as the ocean
"I'm glad I wasn't involved with any of that." Remi says with a grateful sigh. The mess with Ash's master, the things Warren had done and made others do...at least Remi had escaped those horrors.
"Oh good, will you just shrink yourself dow—" But no, apparently not. Crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes, the Alchemist can't help but feel the bright sting of jealousy. His wagon, once upon a time, was meant to do precisely something like that. However Remi's upset was quickly swamped by the realization that if Ianto's wagon was here, then perhaps the fox would be staying as well.
Following the merchant up the stairs and leaning against the doorframe as Ianto pattered around inside, the Alchemist grins to himself as he tries to casually survey the interior to see what might have changed since last he was in. "I'm sure I don't need to warn you, but...There are wagon thieves, about." Remi's bright grin suggests that once upon a time on these very shores, he happened to be one of them.
THE ALCHEMIST
& i guess i didn't mind d r o w n i n g in him.
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
”So am I,” Ianto agrees, clearing his throat as if to dismiss the lingering darkness that tries to sneak in, concentrating more on the wagon and shooting a golden grin over his shoulder at Remi - shrink himself down indeed. He leaves the door open to let the Alchemist lean against the frame while he blows out lanterns and checks on the place - it looks much the same as it did when Remi first visited, give or take a few new trinkets and the like.
”Wagon thieves?” Ianto snorts, raising an eyebrow back at his friend. ”Maybe I ought to invest in a security system, you reckon?” He’s rummaging in a drawer now, muttering a soft aha before closing it and returning to Remi. He reaches out to grab his hand, pressing something into it.
”There - that’s the bit of yourself you should keep. If you were looking for it,” he advises with a mischievous wink. In the Alchemist’s palm sits a star, one that he probably recognises very well indeed.
he had eyes like rain & hair like waves & a soul as vast and deep as the ocean
"They are very clever." Remi emphasizes (they hadn't been, in fact. Only very lucky at the time. Whatever did happen to that old mare they'd had during this first few days?) "Whatever would you do if you caught one?"
Watching as the merchant moves about his wagon, Remi softly raises a brow in silent appreciation for the chaotic mess of things within. Swallowing with surprise as his hand is taken, Remi opens his fingers to see the small star—it would glow in the dark, he was sure—and smiles faintly.
"You know...I could make a star that flies into the air, or follows you around. I could make it sing, or leave glitter behind. But somehow this.." He turns it over, rubbing a thumb affectionately against its flatter edge. "..seems much more special." There was a lesson there, probably: Remi was not the product of what he could do. Something about the sum of his parts not being the whole. Something about simpler times. But his mind ignored proverbial summaries, and instead focused on the simple artifact of a man who once was, in his hand.
THE ALCHEMIST
& i guess i didn't mind d r o w n i n g in him.
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
”Gosh, I don’t know. I’m not a violent man, Remi - I’d probably invite them in for tea.” Ianto grins over his shoulder (he’s already putting the kettle on the stove to do just that, nodding at the Alchemist as if to tell him to do come in already. ”It is much more special,” he says simply, getting down two cups from the cupboard and returning to Remi for the sole purpose of stealing back his pipe, the wagon filling with sweet smoke as he potters about.
”You made it with your own two hands. No magic, no nothin’ else. Just you.” He shrugs. ”I always find magical items a bit cold, myself.” The irony of a man who trades in them. ”Things that are created by hand have more magic than anything made by it. Want honey in your tea?”
he had eyes like rain & hair like waves & a soul as vast and deep as the ocean
"How am I to know? Perhaps once you told me all your secrets about what a dark and violent man you once were and just chose not to remind me?" Remi raises a brow emphatically as if his suggestion wasn't entirely ludicrous, before walking into the wagon. Everything was just as he remembered, and that pang of melancholy nearly swamped his thoughts so entirely that he almost hit his head on the door frame.
Pipe gone from his lips, Remi grumbles in agreement. "Was this payment for something then?" He wonders, a whimsical-sort of smile on his lips as he looks up at his friend. "You tolerate this wagon fairly well if that's the case." Remi shoots back, before nodding. "Mmm, please. We don't get many chorus bees around here, so honey is actually in fairly short supply." Just saying so makes the inside of his mouth water, and he swallows don't his expectation with a cheerful smile.
"So what made you decide to come through again?"
THE ALCHEMIST
& i guess i didn't mind d r o w n i n g in him.
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
”Well I am reminding you now. I am a coward, a merchant, and an absolute riot to be around. But I’m not violent.” Ianto winked at Remi, leaving him to inspect the wagon afresh as he waits for the kettle and grabs his stash of tea leaves, doing his own version of alchemy to infuse the water with exactly the right mix of flavours. ”This wagon was not created,” he says, aghast, patting the counter and shooting Remi a scandalised look.
”At least, it doesn’t act like it was. This thing was born, probably, out of some weird... magic... explosiony thing.” He nods, like it’s a very wise explanation. The kettle begins to whistle and Ianto shoves a few things (books, a pile of feathers, a tangle of beads) from a small table, pulling a couple of large cushions up for them to sit on - as well as a jar of honey.
”Hmm? Oh, I... well, I spent a lot of Deepfrost hibernating. Thinking. And... I dunno, I realised I’d climbed so far in my own head I just... didn’t recognise myself anymore. It sucked.”
he had eyes like rain & hair like waves & a soul as vast and deep as the ocean
"I'm not sure. It was very brave of you to come all the way to Torchline. Especially during monsoon season." Remi points out. "A coward would have stayed in the Greatwood." Watching with rapt amusement as Ianto putters about, collecting this and that for his brew, Remi just chuckles to himself at the scolding he's given. "Uh huh. A magic explosiony thing...you know, that sounds an awful lot like how magical items are made."
Sitting himself down on one of the cushions and giving the fox a lingering and smug look, Remi can't help the way his mouth waters at the sight of the honey. "Well, for what it's worth, I'm glad you are here now." The Alchemist says with a genuine smile of affection. It's a bit too pure for this context though, and so he coughs it away before motioning to the tea. "Are we waiting for that thing to whistle us a specific tune, or can you pour it already?" He says of the whistling kettle.
THE ALCHEMIST
& i guess i didn't mind d r o w n i n g in him.
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
