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!
This is your heart undone, Take all the time you want
Sitting at your desk your pencil flies across the page as you finish charting the patient that you've just sent out. Honestly, with the amount of combined knowledge in Stormbreak, and still you have parents trying to treat their own children with outdated cure-alls. Few things make you grumpy, but this is certainly one of them. It manifests as any unhappy tapping of your foot as you continue writing down the absurd treatments administered to the 6-year-old who was allowed to nearly die thanks to a minor bee sting.
Then you hear a growl. Sitting up in your chair, you look around, blinking into the empty office. Your ears don't move in this form, but the muscle memory still tugs at them as you try and still everything else to pinpoint the sound.
It's only after a few moments that you realize where the growl came from.
It was you.
Swallowing and blushing, you clear your throat, realizing that perhaps you were more upset than you thought. Closing your eyes, you let yourself sink into a state of mindful meditation, watching your frustration flutter behind your eyelids.
He’s come straight from the Tower’s central area, careful to avoid any and everyone along the way, so when October looks up it will be to see Finn just as he was upon leaving the Climb. There’s a drying streak of blood on his face, his eyes are red, and there’s a sheen of sweat on his brow. To say that he’s hot under the collar would be an understatement; beneath the coat he’s still wearing he undoubtedly needs to change his shirt too.
When he speaks, his voice comes out roughly and quickly, explaining in clipped terms what has happened in the past few hours to bring him to her office seemingly at random. The findings at the Climb, the implications of it all - everything, in fact, apart from the details about what he has seen.
”So you see, I am in need of a physical checkup. But I understand if you would prefer not to get too close.” he explains, more shakily than intended.
This is your heart undone, Take all the time you want
You open your eyes, and as soon as you see Finn, your heart pounds. You can feel an anxious sort of adrenaline that fuels you as a doctor begins to surge through your system, but on the outside, you remain calm and composed.
"Did you touch anything on your way in?" You ask in a gentle voice, rising from behind your desk and moving to the door that leads into the clinic. Closing it, you turn the bolt locking it from the inside. You'll add a sign shortly, but for now, Finn demands your attention.
It's too late for that, you want to say with a laugh, but you don't think Finn is in any position to be on the receiving end of a bit of poorly timed humour. "Come on, in here." You say, directing Finn into one of the operating rooms. It isn't where you would normally do a patient exam, but if any of this becomes worst-case scenario, this is one of the rooms that can be most easily cut off from the rest of the ward.
”No, nothing,” Finn tells her, stepping further into the room but not approaching her, allowing her to move and lock the door. He understands why but that doesn't make it any easier, and the Spyglass carefully takes his hands from his pockets. The right is still crusted with blood, deep crescent wounds marking the palm from his fingernails - he didn’t know he had that sort of strength in him, honestly.
Following after her on autopilot, he finds himself standing in the middle of the operating room, still having touched nothing, barely breathing in case the worst should happen. ”What do you need from me?” he asks, gaze flickering up and around the place, never settling on one thing for too long. Finn is a tempest inside, and it’s like he’s simply waiting for the chance fo the storm to roll in.
This is your heart undone, Take all the time you want
"Okay, that's really good." You say, lavishing Finn in praise though knowing he's likely not in any sort of state to hear what you're saying. It's all probably white noise to him, but that's fine. "We're locked in here, for now Finn." You say in a low voice. You think Finn is probably in the sort of state where he's more likely to slip into a non-verbal mode than he is to try and make an escape, but you need him to know just the same. He might be clever enough to understand why you're doing what you are, but that doesn't make it any less your responsibility to tell him.
"You'll need to remove your clothing." You explain, moving towards one end of the room to grab an air-tight container. Putting it on the ground, you place a mask, a gown, and a pair of gloves on the top, before kicking it in his direction. "There's no shower here, so the sink will have to do." You add, not sounding awkward at all. You've done Finn's physicals after all and you are his doctor. That said, you can pull over a privacy screen used for operations as well.
"We'll test your clothing, and then we'll have to test you. Me as well. I'm afraid until the cultures come back and can be examined, we'll be stuck here." Stuck here of course being the medical term, and you laugh lightly and apologetically at that.
He nods, unsure of the praise, not knowing what he’s done that’s so good compared to anything else he might have decided upon. As far as Finn knows, he is not the type to run down the halls touching everyone. But that seems rude to say, so he merely stands where directed, eyes fixing briefly on her face as she explains they are going to be locked in. ”Oh,” he says, not surprised necessarily, but disliking it nonetheless. ”Do you know how long...?”
She replies - until the test results come back - but that tells him precisely nothing. ”I see.” He sounds distant now, watching the container slide across the room and catching it with the toe of his boot. ”Do you want the contents of my pockets?” he asks, folding his scarf and depositing it inside, along with shoes and socks. His coat comes next, the glasses removed for the time being, then shirt, pants, underwear.
Soon enough he’s standing before her wearing nothing but his dignity (and even that isn’t exactly warm), his eyes somewhere between her feet, posture relaxed, back straight. It’s a habit ingrained in him that’s older than the time they’ve known each other, and he waits for her to begin.
This is your heart undone, Take all the time you want
"It can all go in there. It's more about keeping potential contaminants in the same place. " You explain, your voice slipping into a clinical cadence. That isn't to say you sound cold, for you rarely do, merely that although this might be a crisis for Finn, it's just another day for you.
He'll be fine. You both with. It's just another day at the office.
You only look at Finn's body long enough to deduce that he doesn't seem to be physically injured. There appears to be some heat rash and possibly some hives, but those can be dealt with later. Though you appreciate that Finn isn't awkward about being naked, it does sadden you somewhat. There are of course rumours that have circulated about the life Finn led before he was brought into the Order, but it's never something you two have actively talked about. The closest was running STI screens when he was first brought in and assessing the various scars and injuries he'd sustained before. It tells a story that you were obligated to read, and though your heart bleeds for him, you've never let it show. Pity is not part of the job description.
So you begin. Dirt from under his fingernails. A throat and nasal swab. You collect some of the blood from one hand. You check his pupils, his blood pressure, note his temperature and reflexes. On the list goes, charting Finn's current conditions so you have a reference point. "Now I will collect your blood, ah, ah, ah!" You say in a very strange voice. It's a tail that the Outlanders have brought with them, of vampires and their strange catchphrases. Anyone in your world that draws or sucks blood has never said anything so ridiculous, but you find that these strange stories soothe you, and though they'll likely do nothing for Finn, you're happy to fill in the silence.
”Alright.” Finn sets the glasses on top, seals the container, and sets it down nearby. He is the perfect patient as she works, compliant, allowing her to move and manoeuvre as she needs to, following instructions to the letter. His hands are examined, his eyes, too, swabs are taken, and he lets the silence draw out.
He’s gone somewhere deep inside himself, though that likely would have been the case even were it not for the events at the Climb. He may be comfortable naked, but this is precisely why. He doesn’t need to be here while others are touching him. He’s just meat and unfortunate nerve endings that send distant signals to his brain.
The sound of her voice causes him to blink, his attention snapping to her briefly, confusion flooding his features. ”Do you always sound so happy about it?” he asks dryly, offering out his arm for her to prick him with a needle.
08-17-2020, 04:05 PM (This post was last modified: 08-17-2020, 04:18 PM by October.)
This is your heart undone, Take all the time you want
It's lucky for Finn then that your hands don't linger. You're efficient, your gaze is completely professional, and your expression betrays none of the heaviness you feel for your patient. When this is done you know how you'll try to comfort him. For now though, this step is critical.
"Yes." You reply with a challenging grin. "Besides, can you imagine having a doctor who hated their work?" Crinkling your nose as you swap one vial for another, you shake your head. "There. All done." You chirp as if he's been obstinant about the whole thing. "You can put that gown on." You add.
Taking all your samples to the far end of the room, you begin to bag, label, and process what you've collected. As you work, you listen behind you to discern Finn's state of mind: is he sighing? Moving about quickly? Or had he just slumped down in the corner somewhere.
"Based on what you saw.." You say slowly as you work, "do you think you brought anything back with you?"
”I can’t,” he confesses, the smallest flicker of a smile on his face before it’s drowned out again. ”I have only ever known you and Falke, and you have both enjoyed your work. Either that, or I am worse at reading expressions than I thought.” He watches as she draws his blood, the rich red colour flooding the vial, and he can still see it behind his eyes when she steps away from him.
Collecting the gown, Finn slips into it easily, tying it at the back and feeling suddenly, very lost. And when she speaks, when she says it - what you saw - it all flashes before him suddenly, forcing him to grip one of the examination tables for balance. ”No,” he mutters. ”No, I don’t think so. If it’s all the same to you, I don’t want to talk about it.” He had been planning to hole himself up in his rooms, and this has put a dampener on it.
This is your heart undone, Take all the time you want
"Honestly, it could be that." You say with a sunny smile. Finn is, for all his wonderful powers of observation, a bit dense. You don't fault him for it of course, nor do you even think that it's a flaw. It's just how he is, but in times like this, it does make you want to laugh a bit as he stands naked before you, offering commentary on his ability to read expressions while most of your face is covered by a mask.
It wasn't all the same to her. But instead of rounding on him and shaking some sense into him, you merely hum under your breath giving Finn a bit of mental space before continuing. Once everything has been labelled and properly stored, you turn towards Finn. Though your mouth is covered your eyes are large and expressive enough for him to see the simple sympathy and understanding that you're trying to communicate. He'll also see the way you're tethered to responsibility, just like he is.
"We don't have to talk about it, no. I'm not Falke, and I'm not here to treat your mind. But you aren't a doctor Finn, and there are things you saw which might be medically relevant." And so she asks him to describe it again. Not the fire, not the lingering colours, but the other thing.
"I was only kidding before about quarantining you all. But there's a real chance it might be necessary now. Thousands of lives could be in danger, depending on where everyone went. Halo, Torchline, the Hollowed Grounds?"
”You find medical relevance in the things that only I can see, which make no sense to the physical world.” Finn doesn’t mean to snap - the shame of it has his cheeks burning even as the words come out - but gods if he hasn’t been driven well beyond the realms of his own comprehension today. He isn’t walking a tightrope, he’s tumbling from it, falling and falling, endlessly.
”I’m sorry,” he says afterwards, voice low. And his eyes close, and he recites it again, the thing she asks, in quiet and certain terms that give as much detail as he can recall. ”One of them has been touched by Vi,” he says. ”A new demigod. She is in the Hollowed Grounds, certainly. I have been told to watch her.” From a distance.
This is your heart undone, Take all the time you want
You don't mind at all that he's taking his frustration and trauma out on you. It's your job to endure this sort of thing, and you do so with an understanding smile. "Normally I would say you're right. But with what you've told me, with all the people potentially at risk, are you sure you want to take that chance?" The core of Finn is good, or so you still desperately believe despite all that's happened to him.
"For what?" You ask brightly, easily able to absolve Finn of this particular sin, even if you can't extend your grace to the rest of them. The mention of a new demigod, one touched by Vi, has you appropriately stunned. "And.." You blink. "..so you.." You lick your lips. Nope, you're absolutely not ready to understand this right now, and you think that's okay.
Gods, you hope that's okay.
"Well, first things first." You mumble, before reaching out for Finn's hand. "Let's get this bandaged up, mm?" So saying, you begin to clean and disinfect the wound. You expect it to sting, but there's little you can do about it. It isn't bad enough to resort to your secret unicorn-shard stash, but given what Finn has been through, this is hardly the worst of what's likely on his mind.
”No. The risk isn’t worth it,” Finn advises her, shaking his head and sighing, his eyes still closed for now. The images of all he has seen play behind closed lids, a theatre of horrors he can’t escape, and it doesn’t matter whether or not he’s looking in earnest or not. If he can save thousands by looking, though, he’ll do it. ”For being rude,” he murmurs, like she’s asked a particularly obvious question. His stormy eyes flicker open at last, hazy and uncertain, and he holds out his hand for her to bandage it.
”I don’t remember doing that,” he mumbles, but no sooner does he register it than it begins to throb angrily. Even more so now that she’s trying to clean and bandage it - Finn lets her go about it without complaint, though. ”What will you do about any other patients? Or Cian? He is still out there. Or...” Or wherever the hell he wants to be.
