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!
curiosity always did kill the cat -- and satisfaction always brought it back
The Kraai. It felt more like home than anything else at the moment. Previously, he had defined home as wherever she was.
His home was nothing more than ashes now.
Thoughts drifted, as they were wont to do. His mind was foggy, and not just from the single apple cider he'd been drinking. Sleep was something of a foreign concept to him at the moment, his mind rarely able to settle for long enough to let the fatigue finally encompass him completely.
So he sat within the pub instead, on a softer lounge by the crackling fireplace, letting his eyes behold the flames and not much else - the rest of the activity in the room was a blur to him, so much so that he hardly realised he was the last one lingering there on this night.
”Last orders came and went about half an hour ago, Chuy.”
Neron moves to sit in the seat opposite the other man. He’s already cleaned everything, locked up, the lot, and yet he sets down another two drinks - another cider for the other man, and a glass of red wine for himself. He can barely taste it these days, but it’s still something he can make himself enjoy.
”I’ve got to do the books, and the fire will stay lit until I’m ready to go. But you stay up until then if you want, okay?” It’s unusual, to see Neron be nice. Understanding, even. But he has time for Chulane, and has done ever since Deepfrost. Sighing, he shifts a bit further back from the fire and sips at his drink.
”I’ll not say I’m sorry, because you are probably tired of hearing it. How are you, though?”
curiosity always did kill the cat -- and satisfaction always brought it back
"Hmm?" Eyes flicked up from their fireside focus to the man, before they roam the now-empty room around them. He blinks a bit, to clear the fire-blindness that fogged his vision for a few seconds, before refocussing again on the drink that settled before him. "Oh," he murmurs, only just realising what had happened, how late he had stayed, how vacant the place was around them.
"Thanks, Neron," nicknames were dropped, his mood too flat, too numb to muster up a smile or a laugh with the man. He didn't feel like he needed to pretend before Neron anyway, to put on the strong front, the steadfast and unwavering optimism put aside for the real, raw ruin of a man that sat before the ascended this evening.
"Shit." Voice was gruff, direct, but he couldn't deny it. He was sick of denying all day, every day, pretending that he was fine for life to go on, continuing on with plans and business for the council, for the city. "I'm shit." A repetition, as he swapped his mostly empty glass for a full one, taking a sip of the cider. He sighed. "I don’t…" he breathed in deep, an annoyingly shaky breath. "I don't know what to do anymore."
He lifts his glass to indicate that Chuy is welcome, Neron giving the man space to breathe, to think, to decide what it is he wants to say. And the Hailstorm has to be honest - he’s got a way with words, that one. ”Give yourself time,” he suggests. ”It’s been all of five minutes, it feels like. If you did know what to do with yourself, I think people would be more suspicious.” He furrows his brow, gazing into the flames.
”I’ve lost family, but... I can’t confess to have the slightest idea what it is you’re going through. But if you need to drink, the bar is here. If you want to destroy something, I can make some truly obnoxious ice sculptures.” Running his fingers through his hair, he considers things for a few moments. ”Have you thought of making something, to remember her by? A marker, or a place you can go?”
curiosity always did kill the cat -- and satisfaction always brought it back
"Hm," he grunted softly in agreement, knowing Neron spoke the truth but still not quite ready to launch into qualifying whether how he was feeling was justified or not. Mostly because he was feeling so many things, over and over, different every second - and then sometimes it would all blend together and he would just feel nothing.
Maybe it was normal to be this way. It's what he'd always said to other people going through it, as well. He'd never lost someone before - not like this. He'd lost pets before, extended family members who he only saw at occasional events, and while he felt things deeply… This was different. He'd had his whole world shaken, his entire understanding of reality altered, he'd loved fast and hard, and now?
Now he fell fast and hard, with no-one to catch him.
"Thought about it. But actually deciding on something that feels sufficient seems beyond my grasp." He had many ideas, too many in fact - it was like with the emotions that grief brought, too many to ever allow him to settle on any particular one for long. He sighed.
"I don't know what I need, what I want," he was a man of purpose, a man with a plan, a goal, striving for the best in himself, and those around him. "I'll build the shit out of that farm. But beyond that…" he gave a shrug, unable to continue his train of thought, feeling as lost as the thought path always led him. He took another sip of his drink.
Neron stares into the depths of his glass as he listens to the other man. He’s got that curious sort of stillness of the Ascended, the sort that suggests Chuy might be speaking to a statue, until the statue goes ahead and talks back. ”I’m sure something will settle, if you give it time,” he says slowly, swirling the alcohol in his glass. ”For now, though... want to finish these up, and fly?”
Lifting his gaze, the Hailstorm lets a ghost of a smile flicker across his face. ”I have a bat shift tucked away for safekeeping. But if you want to get some perspective, maybe a jaunt above the Citadel walls might do you some good. Maybe you can teach me a thing or two.”
09-01-2020, 05:13 AM (This post was last modified: 09-01-2020, 05:13 AM by Chulane.)
curiosity always did kill the cat -- and satisfaction always brought it back
Time, time was always the answer. He knew it, and yet he despised it. Chulane, normally a pinnacle of patience, had no patience for this, no desire to just let it be. He was tired (gods, was he tired), he just wanted to sleep most of his time away (but when he slept, he saw her, falling, falling, falling…), he just wanted to not feel. And yet, feel was all he could do, in varying degrees, as tsunami waves of emotion rolled through him seemingly at random, as he angrily snapped at fellows working inefficiently during the day, as he apologised profusely afterwards and crumpled into a hopeless, helpless mess the moment he had any privacy.
He swallowed the drink, quirking a brow upwards at Neron's notion. Huffing a soft note of humourless laughter (it was more a rushing pressing of air through his nostrils than a real laugh), he placed the glass down and leaned back, reflecting on the similarities between this moment and the one he had offered to Neron that evening during LongNight.
The notion itself painted perspective on things - just as Chuy had hoped to break Neron out of his imprisonment, if only for a few hours of adventure, here was Neron now, prying Chulane from his own mental imprisonment. He almost declined it immediately, running his hand through his hair. Then he stood, declaring his readiness, his acceptance, with open hands and a shrug.
"I haven't shifted since I got the news," he admitted, as if to explain his hesitation. "The attuned bond was something I was most comfortable sharing with her," but that's no longer an option. He sighed, blinking away the emotion that threatened to pool behind his eyes at the thought. "I just want you to be suitably warned in case I… don't manage myself as well as I normally might." he was all about informed consent, all about not pretending to be something he wasn't - at least, not before Neron.
Chuy agrees and gets to his feet, and Neron isn’t far behind him - the drinks are abandoned, and he can clean up and lock up later. Without any need for sleep or sustenance, the Hailstorm is able to work at all hours. And he does, which probably explains why the Kraai is almost always immaculately clean, for a rowdy tavern.
”I will brace myself for it,” he assures the other man, though honestly he’s only ever really had a taste of the Attuned bond. Does Neron know what he’s getting himself into? Of course not. But they’re already moving, the Ascended clapping Chuy on the shoulder and leading them out into the chill of the night.
”I’ve never been a bat before,” he says. ”Do you want to take off first? Might need a second to get my bearings.”
curiosity always did kill the cat -- and satisfaction always brought it back
He appreciated Neron's no-worries attitude, appreciated being treated like 'normal', though still with a healthy respect for everything that had happened. A ghost of a smile might've softened his eyes, a small nod of agreement and confirmation - it was hard to tell, in the slowly darkening pub, though Neron's ascended vision would probably be able to read his otherwise unreadable façade.
"Sure," he agreed, opening the door, letting the cool, fresh air of Halo hit him full on. While his feathered form wasn't really designed to survive climes quite as extremely cold as Halo, it made do - he would make it work for tonight, at least.
Taking a breath in, he touched on that sensation within himself, the attunedness that had risen within him since he arrived on the Tundra that fateful day. Then, he took s few long, quick strides, before leaping seemingly at random - only to shift mid-stride, wings and feathers flapping to lift his now-shifted form up and up. 'Whatcha waitin' for?' he hummed to the ascended, assuming him already shifted and trying to figure out how to get his batty shift to the air.
