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!
born from dark water, daughter of the rain and snow
There is no lust that bubbles in Amalia's belly, no eager heat and scorching desire for hedonistic things. There is only want, aching and hollow, a place in herself that she's tried hard to fill with different shapes and faces. It is a place that Finn could live for a time. She could wrap herself around him and hold him close, protect him and hold him as her edges fray and she grows transparent and finally tears, leaving them both exposed.
She did that once, with someone else. Held on until she tore.
His arm is heavy and oppressive on her waist. His breath is sweet, but also sickly, cloying and filling her lungs. She can feel him filling her, drowning her, looking at her and seeing only the bright side of the moon.
"You don't know me," Amalia whispers, drawing back so the bridges break, their faces coming undone. "I can't save you. I haven't saved myself."
It’s gone as quickly as it comes, a wave that roars through him and leaves him cold and empty. He’s sickened with himself, just a little (and maybe he’s just sick, let’s face it), and his arm slips from around her as she pulls away. It leaves him scorching and freezing over and over again, the Spyglass curling in on himself, letting his thoughts swim for a little bit. ”It’s okay,” he whispers. Is it for her? Or to himself?
”You wouldn’t be able to save me anyway. There’s too much. It’s all just... too much. Save yourself, dream of the stars.”
And there, Finn commits suicide.
Or his mind thinks he’s done that, given how frighteningly dramatic the mood has become. In reality he’s just rolled over in bed a bit too far, and fallen onto the floor.
born from dark water, daughter of the rain and snow
It all happens very quickly and also very slowly, like watching water pool on a leaf and waiting for it to fall. The build up is eons, but when gravity finally takes its toll it is with ruthless, serpentine speed. For one long moment they are both on the bed, coiled up on themselves and trapped in their own worlds.
Then a there's a short moment, the blink of an eye, and he disappears into the dark.
Amalia is on her hands and knees at once, scrambling towards the edge of the bed. "FINN!" she cries out in a voice that is far more panicked than it ought to be and not panicked enough, seeing how he has slipped down into the monstrous abyss and disappeared from sight. Gone, gone, gone, like so many before, snakes and harpies and dragons and swords all plunged into the dark.
Except that - miracle! - he's somehow still there. Amalia clings to the edge of the mattress and peers into the dark and there he is, so far away yet close enough to touch. "Finn!" she calls out again, less panicked this time but no less urgent, reaching out a hand. "You have to come back on the boat. It isn't safe down there."
Finn has landed on the floor with a whump, taking all the blankets along with him, and he’s still absentmindedly trying to pull them away from his face as he flops onto his back. He squints up at the bed, blearily blinking at the face that pops over the side of the mattress. ”No,” he says to Amalia’s mourning of him, rubbing at his forehead. ”No, I am dead. Or a monster. I’m both.” There’s some half hearted flailing that makes the blankets dance, and he gives up a moment later.
Moving makes him dizzy, and his mouth is terribly dry. So with a huff of a sigh and a half moan, he rolls onto his side and hides his face into the... floor. Amalia can join him, or she can fall asleep in the bed. One thing is abundantly clear, though - Finn ain’t going anywhere.
09-03-2020, 08:05 PM (This post was last modified: 09-06-2020, 06:44 PM by Amalia.)
born from dark water, daughter of the rain and snow
It is very tempting to leave him there, because Amalia is tired. She's tired, and she knows what it's like to be dead and a monster, how comforting it can be. She remembers the way the water rushed over her, into her, filing her lungs and pressing against her heart. "You're going to drown," she whispers hoarsely, eyes wide with terror, looking at something that isn't Finn. "If you don't save yourself, you're going to drown."
But he doesn't save himself, doesn't move, and Amalia knows what she must do. Just as an angel tore her through the surface she must do the same. Whether or not he wants it doesn't matter: she is not ready to lose him, this strange phantom of a friend.
If he is going into the dark, then Amalia will follow. Like a strange snake creature she slithers down, bringing her blanket and pillow along because if they're going to die they may as well do so in comfort.
She lands beside him with a solid whump, then army-crawls half-under the bed, until she's nestled against his side. "Now we're both monsters," Amalia murmurs into the small of his back, the nest of his curls, her eyes already falling shut as exhaustion finally wins. "I'll dream about you. One day we'll be alive again."
