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!
Finn forgives her, and he’s happy not to talk about that right now - mainly because he’s forgotten everything prior to his reciting the chords. It’s a soothing exercise that works wonders for him, the Spyglass sinking into something familiar, something that has never brought him anything but freedom and comfort, and when the water hits his tongue around a chord he flinches and pauses, but manages not to spit it out.
”That was unfair,” he informs Tobi, squinting open one eye to glare at her. But suddenly, having tasted something that’s as close to a cure as he can get, the repulsion has abated momentarily. He frees one of his hands, reaching out for the glass so he can guide it to his lips, taking another sip of water. He doesn’t think anything has tasted so good in his life.
one moment you’re lost in a carnival of delights
the next, it leads you somewhere you don’t want to go
when the night has been too lonely and the road has been too long
Despite his glare, you beam mischievously back at him, all dark eyes and round cheeks. "I think what you mean to say, is that my aim is very good—hey! Finn." Frowning, you only half let go of the glass, your fingers still around it even as Finn drags it toward his mouth. You're pleased to see that he has the coordination and desire to drink, but this sudden change in his appetite is ringing warning bells in your mind.
"Slowly Finn." You coax as if he's the dog here and not you. "Okay, no more than that." You interject once more than half the water is gone. "Finn." Moving your fingers below his to the bottom of the glass, you try and gingerly pull it away, hoping that once he feels the tug he'll release his grip. You don't want to pull too hard lest he lets it slam into his face and cut his lip open.
and you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong
The water wets his throat and it’s like the first day of Flowerbirth in his mind, dewy and cool and everything his fevered state isn’t. Still, the Spyglass is hardly an aggressive person (when not in his dreams, anyway), and October’s scolding and attempts to ease the glass away are recognised. It’s reluctant, but Finn does let go of the water, sinking back against the headboard to try and catch his breath. ”Sorry,” he manages - just about. ”I was just so thirsty, all of a sudden.”
Sighing out a whoosh of air, he rubs his aching eyes, then blinks around the room as if recognising it for the first time. Hints of a sad smile flick across his face; he can’t remember ever having company here before. ”You said it’s been 36 hours,” he murmurs. ”...Do the others know, then?”
one moment you’re lost in a carnival of delights
the next, it leads you somewhere you don’t want to go
when the night has been too lonely and the road has been too long
"I know." You chuckle patiently. "And you wouldn't be the first to quench your thirst only to throw it back up again. Then again.." You glance down at Finn's sweat-soaked shirt and merely shrug. "We'll have to clean you up again anyway, so maybe I should have let you." You absolutely don't mean this—you'd never let Finn intentionally do anything harmful—but it's your way of subtly letting Finn know that a shower is in his near future.
Sighing, both relieved that Finn has the mental capacity for deduction just now, and also disheartened that you're going to have to have this conversation, you give your head a non-commital shake. Wanting to reach for his hand to offer support, you instead rub your thumb against your palm. "Only Falke." You admit. "I said no one was allowed to know you were here much less come and see you until you'd recovered physically." Glancing up, your eyes are darkened by the obligation you feel deep in your bones. "And...he wants to see you of course. Sooner rather than later." You bite the inside of your lip, raising your eyes to Finn's face. You won't hide from what you've done, still believing it to have been the right thing, even if the man in the bed disagrees. "If you aren't strong enough to go down to the clinic, he'll have to come here."
and you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong
”So far so good,” Finn says quietly, though the water is already settling like a chill in the pit of his stomach. He doesn’t feel all that sick, at least - and with any luck, he’ll be able to warn Tobi if that changes. He nibbles at the inside of his lip as he hears out the rest of what she has to say, fingers plucking at one of the blanket’s loose threads. They are just people, and the logical part of Finn’s mind knows that. Just people - people he has seen and interacted with before, dozens of times. It shouldn’t matter, where they see him.
But it does. The presence of a bolt to draw across his door to keep the world away has grown from a simple pleasure to a requirement for his mind to let itself relax. To violate it would be to invite the world back in, and Finn doesn’t know that he’s ready for that. He swallows and nods to Tobi. ”Well, then,” he says. ”I suppose we had better get me down to that clinic, hadn’t we?”
one moment you’re lost in a carnival of delights
the next, it leads you somewhere you don’t want to go
when the night has been too lonely and the road has been too long
For a long moment, you say nothing. Your eyes raise to meet Finn's, studying not the blue of them, but the man who lingers beneath. A man who'd rather struggle and stumble his way down several floors, to risk having his peace being disturbed. A man who knows better, and still has chosen this option. A man you wish you understood more, if only so you could be of more help to him. But then, that's why it was so important for Falke to see him. Because you believe that out of everyone, the Fixer is the only one who understands.
Whatever part of you is frustrated by Finn's willful response is hidden away, and after a moment you smile encouragingly. "Do you want to shower here, or at the clinic?" Here would afford Finn more privacy, though the clinic's showers had many more handles and seats that those in the Spyglass's condition would probably appreciate.
and you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong
09-14-2020, 03:04 PM (This post was last modified: 09-14-2020, 03:05 PM by Finn.)
memory’s so treacherous
”...Here, I should think.” There’s something about having to amble through the Tower in the state he’s in that brings shame flushing to his cheeks. Even in the Silk Houses, sloppiness could not be tolerated, and it’s something that has followed Finn to the Order. Running a hand across his unshaven cheek, he glances up at Tobi suddenly, lucidity affording him gratitude. ”Thank you,” he says softly. ”For everything you have done so far. You... you went beyond doing your job.”
He’d be bad at this even in his right mind, so he has no chance here. Still, the Spyglass does his best. ”You’re a good friend, Doctor Hart,” he mutters, before throwing back the blankets and easing himself to the edge of the bed. The water has helped, though he’s still more likely to throw himself down the stairs in this state. ”Did you... I took a bath? When I got here?”
one moment you’re lost in a carnival of delights
the next, it leads you somewhere you don’t want to go
when the night has been too lonely and the road has been too long
You expect as much, but you wanted to give Finn the choice. "Here it is." You agree. What he says next makes you pause. It's likely intended as a compliment, going beyond one's job is usually something worth having pride in, but it doesn't ring that way in your ears. Your job is...all you have. There is no you outside of being a doctor. There's no social life, no real friends, no important hobbies. There is only healing. Unless of course this is some veiled way of indicating that you've overstepped your bounds, which, given whose bed you're currently sitting in, you think is quite likely the case. "I"m sorry if I went too far, Finn. This..." You glance around Finn's apartment as if pained by being here. And you are, sort of. It hurts you to know that Finn doesn't want you here, and that it's only a strange twist of circumstances that has forced this particular arrangement.
Smiling softly, you don't offer the words back to Finn. He isn't a good friend, not really, but you also made him a promise that you wouldn't force him to be one. Still, you can't help but roll your eyes as he continues to call you Doctor.
"Well, it was meant to be a shower..but you couldn't stand up, so I suppose that's when it became a bath." You chuckle to yourself, before wanting to firm up some of the details seeing as Finn might not completely remember. "You were covered, and dried yourself off on your own." Nothing else happened, not needing to be said.
and you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong
”You brought me home. Which is what I needed more than anything. Not to the clinic, not to the rest of the Order. Just home.” It isn’t very often that Finn is able to provide anyone reassurance, but as he carefully swings his legs over the side of the bed, and with only Tobi’s presence there with him, he’s content. ”So thank you.” He gazes up at her, smiling a little - it’s as much cheer as he can muster.
Finn is about to try and get to his feet when Tobi explains further, the Spyglass seeming puzzled, but he nods to her gratefully. ”You’ve performed more intimate exams on me, Doctor,” he points out, taking a deep breath in and then going for it. He makes it onto his feet before dizziness seizes him, Finn grasping the bedpost and giving himself a second for his vision to clear.
”Gods, I need that shower.” He laughs softly.
one moment you’re lost in a carnival of delights
the next, it leads you somewhere you don’t want to go
when the night has been too lonely and the road has been too long
'I'd say anytime, but I think we'd both appreciate if there wasn't a repeat performance." You say with an almost shy sort of smile as you stand to make room for Finn. Holding out your hands to support him if he needs it, you frown slightly as you look toward the floor. "At the clinic." You clarify softly. "Sometimes in familiar settings it...it can seem..." You don't quite know how to finish the sentence, nor do you particularly want to, and so you simply shake your head. "It's why I don't normally do them." Home visits, that is. And then, to make your point a bit clearer with a bit more levity you add, "Can you imagine what it would be like were I doing this for Dorian?" You roll your eyes, already able to hear what tricks and stunts the Orator would have up his sleeve.
Grinning at Finn, you nod. "You absolutely do. And I've a keener nose than most." You add. Not that dogs mind the smell of sweat and such, but as a human it can be extremely distracting to both be repulsed by various bodily scents, and also deeply interested about them. "Come on. You can rest again when you get to that wall." Nodding over your shoulder and giving Finn a point in the room to work toward, you continue to hold out your hands for balance should he need it.
and you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong
”You can say that again,” Finn mumbles, and as he tries to make his way across the room and down the stairs, he can already feel his body start to heat up again. Sleep has brought him a clear head, and he’s desperate to keep it for a little longer, so he gives himself a decent rest against the wall before trying to step forward again. ”Inappropriate?” he supplies, referring to what it might seem in more familiar settings. Finn should know - it was why his rooms at the Silk Houses contained very little by way of personal effects.
He can’t help but snicker as she mentions Dorian, hobbling down the stairs and making his way carefully towards the bathroom. ”He would think it was a very strange sort of date,” he wagers, squinting at the light as it floods the bathroom. ”Does this mean that I’m in trouble when we get to the clinic, then?” he asks in an approximation of a joke, Finn reaching up to start drawing his shirt up over his head.
one moment you’re lost in a carnival of delights
the next, it leads you somewhere you don’t want to go
when the night has been too lonely and the road has been too long
"Knowing Dorian he'd think it was a fine date. Being hand-fed food, getting a sponge bath, having to do absolutely no work." You laugh and roll your eyes. "he proposed to me the other day, you know. Well, not really proposed, so much as offered to marry me if we're both single at 40." Snickering at the thought, you shake your head, offering up this information to distract Finn from the retaliation of his body that he's likely receiving, for having dared leave the bed.
"If we can get you there without the wrong eyes seeing, then no." But you won't lie to Finn. Cian isn't...furious the way one might think. Instead if anything, he seems to have already written Finn off. Which is why it's important to get him better again, so that the Eye doesn't have extra reasons to condemn Finn back to the streets. "I'll distract everyone with adorable cuteness, and you can slip by." You say, opening the door to the bathroom where you've cleaned up Finn's clothes from your last venture here.
and you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong
”He proposed to you,” Finn repeats, wobbling into the bathroom as Tobi opens the door for him, blinking at the sterile cleanliness of the place. ”You must have been terribly flattered. Imagine, being chosen by the Orator as his last resort by the age of 40.” Folding his shirt, he drapes it over the sink and lets his sweatpants follow suit, leaning heavily against the porcelain so he doesn’t fall over.
Offering a quiet smile, he heads for the shower so he can set the water to flowing. ”I meant in trouble from your intimate exams,” he remarks, but the rest is cause for plenty of nerves and concern. It probably explains why Finn falls so silent, the Spyglass stepping under the stream of water and promptly slumping back against the wall, his eyes slipping shut. The conversation has helped, but it hasn’t conjured good health in its wake.
one moment you’re lost in a carnival of delights
the next, it leads you somewhere you don’t want to go
when the night has been too lonely and the road has been too long
"I know. I hardly contained my excitement." You reply dryly. "Then again, if it shuts everyone up about my personal life, who knows. Maybe it would be worth it." You shrug. 32, unwed, no children, no suitors. That you've been the subject of gossip is nothing new. But you're so pretty, they say. Why don't you find yourself a nice man. Or woman—haha! Only you've never found it very funny, nor have you ever found (read: let) anyone get close enough to you that you might ever consider 'settling down'. How boring, anyway.
"Oh." You reply as he clarifies. "In trouble? No. But you can always request a different doctor when all this is over." You reply matter-of-factly. It would make you sad if he did, but you'd never withhold options from a patient. Or a friend, for that matter. "Falke is more than capable of being your primary physician as well as your psychiatrist."
Watching as Finn leans against the wall, this time you don't go to him to help. If he really is going to make it all the way downstairs, he needs to be able to do much more than hold himself up in the shower. "Steady." You encourage softly.
and you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong
