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 has had a building headache ever since he returned from the Climb with Finn. Were the two on better terms, the Eye and the Spyglass might have commiserated about what they'd seen (or more properly, what Finn had seen and relayed to Cian). Instead, the Eye returned, received the all-clear from Doctor Hart, and had drunk himself into a dreamless slumber.
Now, he sat at his desk behind the smoke haze of a constant stream of cigarettes, pouring over the reports that he'd requested. All were present and accounted for, save for one.
One which would no doubt be turned in with a flurry of excuses and shiny stories to distract him. Well, Dorian could try all he liked. Once he heard what the Eye had to say, he'd promptly cease to cheer him, if he knew what was good for him.
The Orator was dressed sharply, per usual, the heels of his freshly polished shows making a slight click against the stone floors as he made his way through winding passages to his friend's office. In hand was his tardy report - which had been done since the moment he had returned home but he had purposefully neglected to turn in. Why? Mostly as an excuse to visit Cian and force him to think about other than the Order for a few moments. Partly because the irritated look he was sure to get was oh-so satsifying. It was the sort of thing only a boyhood friend-brother such as himself could get away with.
Dorian knocked on the door and immediately entered, a wide grin curving his lips. "There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you!" he said chipperly. As if Cian was ever anywhere unpredictable or difficult to find. He always knew where to find the Eye when needed. "I am happy to report that my trip, confused start though it had, went swimmingly!" he said, brow raised, grin widening as he tilted his head, waiting for his friend to get the pun. Things in Torchline went swimmingly. Ha! Pun of the season, if he did say so himself (and he did)!
He set his report of his meetings with Amalia and Ronin down on the desk before making himself comfortable in a chair across from the eye. He unbuttoned his jacket and crossed his legs loosely, smirking at Cian. "Did you have fun on your trip to the brothel?"
Dorian
but numbers can. 4/10
Code blatantly stolen from the fantastical, wonderful Odd
Dorian is all easy amusement, filling the silence like birdsong as he casually sits himself down. The picture of elegance and ease is in stark contrast to the stiff way Cian sits, and how only his eyes have seemed to move since his counterpart has arrived. He draws in deep breaths, waiting for Dorian to stop endlessly chirping. It is not a trait they have in common but it is one that the Eye normally bears well.
Not so today.
Licking his lips, Cian leans forward, his piercing blue eyes upon the Orator. "There has been a development. From the Climb." He says, words measured, tone neutral, denim-stare hard and unyeilding.
Well now, wasn't he the picturesque gargoyle, looming over his stack of paperwork like that. Clearly he had not had fun whilst at the brothel, nor was he in any sort of mood for banter. Not that Cian ever really was, but some times he was more amiable than others. Sort of. In a gloomy, antisocial sort of way. So instead the Orator side and tilted his head, waiting for Cian to illuminate him to the cause of his poor temper today.
The Climb, however, was the last place in Ciado he had expected to hear news about.
"What sort of development?" Dorian said, pursing his lips in mild confusion. The Climb was mostly a lava filled wasteland with human hunting beasts. Frey's Spring could be lovely but it hardly made up for the pain pf getting to it.
Dorian
but numbers can. 4/10
Code blatantly stolen from the fantastical, wonderful Odd
"Tanau has re-emerged, but...that is not the most interesting development." Sitting forward, Cian regards his oldest (and only, to be honest) friend as if debating what to tell him. It isn't that he doesn't trust Dorian it's that...with a little whiskey in him, or a little of him in someone else, that silvery tongue of his tends to wag. "Apparently there was something lodged inside of it. When it was pulled out..." The Eye puts his fingers together before letting them pulse away, indicating some sort of explosion.
He describes what it was Finn had seen with his glasses, adding that despite having been there, neither he nor the Spyglass are at risk. Or at least, they hadn't been then.
"Puts a bit of a kink in things, ey?" Cian says dryly, his voice calm despite the seriousness of what he was saying.
Tanau? Well that was good news wasn't it? It was always good for more of the Old Gods of all sorts to be around. But it seemed the tale did not end there. As Cian went on Dorian's expression slowly fell, until his countenance had lost all its usual bright, lighthearted charm. Serious and stormy, he considered Cian's words, trying to see around corners and to the conclusion of viable possibilities. It could be a kink in things...but perhaps not too.
"It depends...on what exactly that was all intended for." he said seriously thrumming his fingers on his knee. Really, there wasn't enough information there to surmise much. It could have been any number of things. But based on Cian's disposition, he could at least hazard a guess as to where his friend's mind had gone. "You believe she is behind this." he said, more of a statement than a question.
Dorian
but numbers can. 4/10
Code blatantly stolen from the fantastical, wonderful Odd
Much as it gave Cian no delight to ruin his friend's mood (contrary to many rumours no doubt), the Eye was pleased to see how quickly the Orator pieced things together.
"Normally I'd agree...though...based on what Finn described it certainly sounded quite metallic." The Eye replied. "And while we know how Tanau likes his fire and his precious metals this...sounded like something altogether unnatural."
Nodding stiffly, Cian raised a finger and wiped at one eye, daring his headache to increase. "I do." He replied, fixing his counterpart with his denim stare, his teeth chewing on the inside of his cheek. "When is she not, old friend?" Cian added with a shake of his head as he glanced out his window. "Down below all those people believe that we are keeping them safe." His voice is narrative almost, like he's reading from a newspaper perhaps. "And they have no idea how close we have come to war time and time again. But this?"
Glancing over his shoulder towards Dorian, the Eye merely shakes his head. "This is the start of something. You can mark my words on that."
Quickly piecing together information to implement strategy quickly was really Dorian's entire purpose for the Order. Coupled with his way with words, a skill the Eye did not possess himself, the Orator might well be one of the few almost indispensable members. But it was that almost bit Dorian always kept at the back of his mind.
As Cian went on, he reached into an inner pocket of his jacket, pulling from it a highly ornamented tin of tobacco and a cigarette paper. With deft fingers he filled the paper and began to roll it, eyes cast down and focused on the task. Fortunately, he needn't worry about his friend finding the behavior odd given the situation. He had no intention of smoking it, nor had he run out of pre-made cigarettes. It was nothing more than a cleverly hidden tick - a repetitive motion allowing him to hone his thoughts, whilst still appearing to merely be occupied by a menial task.
Pooh bear smacked his head. Einstein worked at the patent office. Dorian rolled cigarettes. Different floats, different boats and whatnot.
"Tanau is a younger god, after all. If there are any she could trick, he'd be one of them." Dorian said with uncharacteristic softness, still rolling the ends of the cigarette paper between his fingers. Moreover with his penchant for metals, she could easily play to his weaknesses. The case for a problem built by the second. But somewhere there would be a solution.
His jaw clenched briefly, lips pursing as he nodded in agreement with his old friend. Indeed, it was the start of something. "Then we must end it before it can begin.". He said, standing suddenly. Dorian walked to the other side of Cian's desk, eyeing the reports stacked upon it before glancing back at him, brow raised; as if to ask permission to look through them.
"Amalia Chandrakant, Ronin and Remi Taliesin, Delphia Thanatos, Phoebe Steadman - these are our best prospects at the moment. One of them must have some asset we can use to get to the bottom of this." he said. Was this more quickly than they had planned? Absolutely. But if she was already playing games and laying traps, time was of the essence.
Dorian
but numbers can. 4/10
Code blatantly stolen from the fantastical, wonderful Odd
Whereas Dorian meticulously fidgeted to focus his mind, the Eye needed no such distractions for his body. Silently sat as the Orator thought and spoke, the Eye's only movement was to nod almost imperceptibly as Dorian came to stand at his side.
"The last one...Phoebe...the herald has not raised her yet, as Finn suggested Frey might." Cian said dryly, moving her file to the bottom of the stack so that only the demi-god labels remained visible. "Who would you bet on then, ey? Amalia, raised by Vi himself? Ronin and Remi at opposite ends of the spectrum? Or the child of Mort himself?" Glancing up towards Dorian, the Eye pulled his gaze back toward the files before him, tapping on Amalia's in particular.
"This one, I think. This is where I would lay my chips."
"Of course they haven't. That would be far too helpful." Dorian quipped with a sigh. Frey and Rae, blessed as they were, were the problem children of the upper pantheon as far as the Orator was concerned. And since neither were particularly susceptible to his brand of manipulation they frustrated him endlessly. Not that they others were any more easily swayed with pretty words but at least they weren't so blunt about it.
He made quick work of scanning through the remaining documents. After setting down Delphia's, he tapped his cigarette against the edge of the desk, eyes running over the names. Dorian nodded to Cian's suggestion. "I'd agree. She is driven by her emotions not her mind. She should prove easy to use." he said. Not to mention the hero complex so many of Vi's followers had. Preserve life at all costs, save the world, blah-blah-blah; yes, yes, all well and good so long as it brought the Voice's demise. The ends, the means, and so on.
But then he tapped Delphia's report. "We should keep this one in mind too though. She is more seasoned and isn't from that blasted Ascended-loving bubble." he said, perhaps a bit more sharply than intended. "Always good to have the chosen of the big three in our pockets anyway."
Dorian
but numbers can. 4/10
Code blatantly stolen from the fantastical, wonderful Odd
"Perhaps..I've always known the children of Mort to be a bit..." The Eye frowns. Philosophical? Out there? Stuck up their own asses? Vaguely Cian shrugs into the silence. "..unpredictable." He decides at last. "I believe it was Finn who went to meet with her. Perhaps you could debrief with him and see what you make of his report." So saying the Eye slid Delphia's file across to Dorian. He'd let the Orator make his own conclusions.
Leaning back, Cian lets his chair swivel so that he can look out the window behind his desk.
"It's coming." He says. Many sat in this seat before him, awaiting a war they wouldn't see in their lifetimes. But now, under his watchful eye, the fall of the Voice would come.
Dorian raised a brow at his friend. "You sent Rosencrantz, the man who flinches at his own shadow, to speak with an emissary of the dead." he said monotonously. He picked up the file, looking it over briefly as he 'tsk'ed his tongue at Cian. "I am convinced you are actively seeking to break that poor fellow." he said lightly. Though it wasn't a criticism - just an observation based opinion. That he wouldn't put such things below what Cian was willing to do to get what he wanted...well...that was perhaps more a truth than anything else.
The Orator glanced at Cian as he swiveled, before glancing out at the same cityscape he viewed. The weight of the moment was tangible in the air, as though the gods looked upon them with great expectation. A small smirk curved his lips, before he patted the Eye's shoulder. "Indeed. And no one before has ever been so prepared as you." he said quietly.
Dorian
but numbers can. 4/10
Code blatantly stolen from the fantastical, wonderful Odd
