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!
gladiator, picked a fight with the gods, i'm a giant slayer
She’d come to him when the dawn light was still grey. Ronin had been asleep - a grave error, he is realising now, to sleep before he’s sure that Remi has drifted off, because the fucker escapes - but now? Now they’re sailing across sand and cliffs and mountains, Ronin instructing this stranger from the Order that she is to not attempt to leave the nimbus lest she fall sharply towards nothing.
”I am sure they’ll be together,” he says, scanning the ashen slopes of Apopo whilst Sugar screeches overhead, much better able to scent and scan than he is. ”When we find them, you’re on your own. We can talk more about what’s happening another time. All I care about is getting Remi safe and away from here.”
His shirt is open and billowing - the air is already warm and especially up here it feels particularly close - and blue eyes fiercely scan the rocks below ”There,” he says suddenly, and the nimbus takes a dive. ”Hold on tight.”
bone shaker, dominator, freight train, wreckin' ball, i'm the gladiator
"Not to worry. My self-preservation is fairly high." You reassure this near-stranger. Only, he isn't. Not to you. You know a good deal more about Ronin than he knows about you, but for now, that hardly matters. All that matters is clinging onto him lest you fall off this cloud. That, and making sure you don't lose any supplies on the trip. Flight. Whatever.
"I appreciate your concern for your husband." You say, nodding against Ronin. You've no romantic ties to Finn in the least, but that doesn't diminish your concern for him. So it is that when Ronin mentions he sees them you feel your heart leap up into your throat. That turns out to be a mistake given how quickly the cloud is diving, and though you press your eyes firmly shut, your cheek against Ronin's back to anchor you in place, your heart threatens to push your lips aside and leave your body in a stream of bile.
gladiator, picked a fight with the gods, i'm a giant slayer
”I appreciate yours for him, too,” Ronin says, squinting as they arrow towards the ground. ”Were it not for your organisation promising to keep him safe, I’d never have agreed to help you.” But now there is a larger danger - one that spans both across the Order and the rest of the world. And so they work together, zoning in on two bodies slumped with each other in the ash.
For a horrible moment Ronin thinks that Remi might be dead, and he leaves the nimbus hovering as he leaps from it, already trudging up towards the bodies. But there’s a fluttering heartbeat on his finger, and he forces himself to breathe as his dragon trills overhead, pleased to have found their treasure. ”They’re unconscious,” he says - at least, Remi is. The other one (and gods they really do look identical) isn’t someone he’s concerning himself with just now.
It’s little consequence for the Star to scoop his husband into his arms, staining them with ash and soot, and he carries him back across to the cloud. ”We’ll speak again soon,” he assures the woman he’s just met, settling back on the nimbus. ”Look after yourself.”
bone shaker, dominator, freight train, wreckin' ball, i'm the gladiator
You open your mouth to argue, to say that honestly, you're just here to help and that its nothing to do with the Order, but then the world is rushing up at you and clinging to this strange (and gods but if he isn't handsome) man is about all your mind can handle.
Seeing still bodies doesn't make your heart lurch the way it might do for Ronin. You know there is a long way to go between eyes closed and dead-dead. So as the Star mentions that they're unconscious (how does he know? his file never mentioned anything about him being a doctor), you simply nod.
What does steal your breath is how similar they look. With eyes closed, there is no gradient of green or blue to distinguish them. Just the same sharp jawline, unshaven cheeks, and halo of curls. Instantly you're at Finn's side, kneeling and scanning him for obvious injuries. Your ear is above his mouth as your fingers find a pulse, offering you some relief. It's then that Ronin just...up and leaves the two of you. "Oh sure, I'll just carry him down on my own cloud, not a problem. Don't even worry about it." You mumble under your breath as Ronin flies away. You do have a plan, but still. You expected a bit more chivalry from the demigod of Safrin, what with his open shirt and blue eyes, and..
Finn. This is about Finn.
"Finn? Can you hear me?" You ask in a calm voice, getting a gauge of his temperature with the back of your wrist against his forehead.
Finn is on fire. He’s on fire and he’s clean and he’s burning and that’s everything. It’s all he needs. All he wants. He can hear distant voices but he doesn’t want to go - wrapped in this volcano, he can grow his wings and dream of the stars forever.
Unfortunately, it isn’t to be.
Tobi will discern several things about the Spyglass as he comes around. He’s filthy, to begin with, caked in ash and dirt and sweat that cakes in the creases of his brow and spiderwebs across his palms. He’s also burning up to hell and back, and is likely dangerously dehydrated. Exhaustion is a given, but it’s quite possible that Finn has outdone even himself.
His throat feels like razors, and peeling his eyes open requires more effort than he’s really capable of. ”Tobi?” he rasps.
You are quick to take in the indications of his madness and malady, noting things to tell Falke later. The blood from his side is information you need. That there is a white feather plastered against his skin, is for Falke. For you, the dryness of his lips as an indication of dehydration. For Falke, the blood ringing his eyes that has been put there. You have never seen Finn so filthy, and while a bit of grime doesn't bother you, you can't imagine the mindset he must have been in to allow himself to get to such a state.
Your heart tremors though your mind is steady. Turning to your bag you pull out a bottle of disinfectant and some cloth to tend to his side. However as the Spyglass swallows and his eyes crack open, instantly your attention is on him. That it's your name he says makes you laugh, breathless with joy. "Yeah, it's me." You whisper, putting down the gauze and instead reaching for some water and a cloth. Tearing the cloth into two strips, you wet both. One is for his forehead, the other is to ensure he doesn't drink too much, too soon.
"You silly man. My first trip out of the city ever, and you bring me to a volcano?"
It really is her, and for all the way that the world around her shimmers, for all of the halos of colour that stream out of her like rainbows, Finn is there too. He’s there and gods, it hurts. ”I’ve been having the most terrible dreams,” he whispers, gaze flickering around them, as if realising he’s cushioned by ashes, realising how hot it is and how oppressive the air feels.
Of course he tries to get his elbows under him, a fresh sheen of sweat on is brow as he glances around further, recognising Torchline. ”I was... I was in the Hollowed Grounds,” he says. ”I was... Tobi, no.” He tries to push her hand away, suddenly panicked - though honestly, he’s got no strength left in him. ”I’m sick, you... you need to go.”
09-03-2020, 10:08 PM (This post was last modified: 09-03-2020, 10:14 PM by October.)
October
a sunflor soul with rock'n roll eyes
"I know." You whisper gently, placing the cloth on his brow and smiling down at him. As he shifts, your hands go to his shoulders, holding him in place. He's the stronger of you two for sure, but just down with gravity on your side and only exhaustion on his, you're fairly confident you can keep him down. "Hey now, what's your rush? A volcano is still better than nothing." You say with a laugh as if you can't feel his body heat radiating off of him in waves.
"I know." You say of the Grounds, of him being sick. Cian told me, and while the Spyglass might have the mental fortitude to piece that together for himself, you don't bother saying it. No need to make matters worse. "I won't catch it, I promise." Giving him a look as his hands do nothing against you, you reposition the cloth and ring-out the one in his mouth onto his lips. "If you try to move again, I swear to Rae I will sit on you. I'm heavier than I look, you know." You add, ever lighthearted in a crisis.
The water feels like shards of glass against his lips, and he instinctively wants to cringe away from it. But at the same time he craves it enough to simply let himself be caught in the cognitive dissonance of it all. There’s no struggle in him now, Finn, sitting quietly back on his elbows, the weight of the cloth on his brow feeling like a tonne of bricks. ”You know?” he repeats quietly, his voice trembling. They are both aware of those implications. But for once Finn doesn’t care.
He’s been pushed beyond his limits and then some. He gazes down at himself like he’s looking through someone else’s eyes, and the breath that leaves him is almost a sob. ”I want to go home,” he whispers, tilting his head back to gaze up at the pale blue of the sky. ”Tobi, I...” There aren’t words for it, for the way it feels like there’s been a hole punched in his chest, for the madness that circles them like sharks, threatening to eat him up again in a seconds.
In a gesture more friend than doctor, perhaps lulled there by a false sense of familiarity when he'd used your name, you push away an ash-hardened curl from Finn's forehead and nod. "I do, yeah." You whisper, seeing in the dull depths of his eyes that he knows what it means.
"But I just got here!" You protest, smiling down at him and not meaning it to actually convince him to stay. Not on this ashen mantle, not in this place where the man who looks so like him can torment him anymore. "I can take you back to the Tower. Right to your apartment, but Finn..." You pause, biting the inside of your cheek. You want this to be a discussion. You want informed consent, but in its absence you...you aren't sure if you won't just do what you feel is right anyway. It's a horrible position for you to be in, but you aren't sure that there's a way around it.
"...you'll have to let me check on you. You can't be left alone like this, not always." Had anyone you know ever been in Finn's home? Falke, maybe. And that was a huge maybe. If Cian ever had, it certainly wasn't by invitation.
Even like this, with tears in his red rimmed eyes, with blood caking his face, the way he caves in on himself is obvious. If she wants to stay he will stay, even if it kills him. And on a day like the one brewing overhead, hot and unforgiving, he may well die here. Drawing in a shuddering breath to hear that Tobi will take him back to his apartment, he huffs out the breath again, gazing up at the sky instead of her face to stop the tears from falling.
”Okay.” He slurs out the words, wanting and needing the company. Craving the comfort of a voice that isn’t sweet and cruel, of a touch that won’t bruise or dig into his skin. ”I was going to go,” he blurts suddenly, like he needs to assuage his own guilt. ”When I got he letter. In an hour, he said. I was going to go, but when I looked at the compass...” It had scuttled out of his hands and under his desk.
You watch him try and be brave, but you're pretty sure it isn't for you. You think if you asked him, Finn would say he's let himself down a thousand times. But...you also think there's some floor that he won't let himself sink lower than. He's hit rock bottom to be sure, but he knows that there's another level to fall to. It's to avoid that that he keeps the tears from falling.
"I know you were. This wasn't your fault. So many of them are sick.." You've seen the lists, he could have gotten this from anyone. He didn't, but you'll let him believe it; it doesn't matter anyway. "You won't have to see him until your better. I promise." If Finn bars the door you'll sit sentinel outside of it. Whatever your loyalties to the Order are, your patients will always come first.
Reaching into your bag you pull out a compass which you've been leant, as well as the one you took from Finn's room. Reaching for one of his hands, you press it against his palm, holding fast to him in case he decides to be ill or convulse during the journey. "Home to bed now, Finn. Doctors' orders." You whisper, and then you're gone.
