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!
”I’d really like that,” he says, a boyish sort of wonder overcoming his expression as he turns the cast, trying to get a better look at the chords. ”Can you play this?” he asks. ”If I had my guitar, we could play together...” He’s forgotten, momentarily, that he absolutely can’t do anything of the sort right now, but that’s the price of a happy distraction. Relaxing back into the bed to watch Tobi with half-lidded eyes, Finn smiles at the prospect of hearing her.
”If you do, would you keep your door open? I’d like to hear it.” Finn, who asks for nothing, wants nothing, expects nothing; to make a request is entirely out of character, the medicine considerably loosening his tongue so that truth and desire can creep out.
let me see you through 'cause i've seen the dark side too.
For a moment you don't know if Finn is so out of it that he's asking if you can play his cast, or the song in general. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, you frown crookedly and nod. "I'm sure I can. It doesn't look that—" You pause, mentally kicking yourself for doing it again, though you are able to resist saying hard. "—complicated."
"We could, yeah." You agree as if the lack of guitar is the hold-up. "Maybe you can teach me how to be your left hand, and you can be the right." It probably wouldn't work, but it's a rather cute idea if you do say so yourself. Then again, sticking with playing heart-and-soul (everyone's duet go-to), is probably easiest.
Hearing the request for the strange sort of thing it is, you let yourself smile in quiet wonder and acknowledgement. You do bite the inside of your cheek so as not to beam too brightly up at him. "Sure. But if Dorian comes sniffing around because I've left my door open, I'm going to blame you for it."
When the night falls on you & you don't know what to do Nothing you confess could make me love you less
”It’s not.” Finn misses the potential or innuendo this time, caught as he is in the thing he enjoys the most, and his good hand comes up to brush across the (thankfully dry) markings. ”But it can be. Depends on how you want to play.” Finn has simplified and complicated this particular tune to infinity and back, but for now he merely gazes at it fondly, where it’s written across his arm.
Raising his eyebrows at her, the start of a grin tugs at his lips. ”Are you sure you are up to the task of being my left hand, Doctor Hart?” he wants to know. ”This is more complex than surgery, you know. This is making music.” A serious business, if Finn’s tone is anything to go by - even if he does look half asleep.
”Good. He can take it up with me. I’ve always quite wanted to wipe the smile off his face.”
let me see you through 'cause i've seen the dark side too.
"I think the same could be true for anything." You agree of things being only as complicated as you make them, or let them. "Sometimes complicated can be nice but...there's beauty in simplicity too. Especially when it's intentional simplicity, you know?"
Narrowing your eyes at him, knowing him well enough to know what he isn't implying, but perhaps a beat behind just the same, you hold up your left hand. "Long fingers for making the chord-shapes, and years of medical training which make me an excellent student." Pressing one of your nails into the base of your thumb, you do offer him a frown. "No callouses though. But I can work on that." You do roll your eyes though as he calls you Doctor Hart. "Today I am just October." You remind him, your smile threatening to fade somewhat.
Snorting, you think a showdown between Dorian and Finn would be quite the spectacle. "Oh, I think he'll die with that smile on his face. You'd have to wipe it off with chloroform I expect."
When the night falls on you & you don't know what to do Nothing you confess could make me love you less
”Mm, I know,” Finn says in soft agreement, smiling up at her. Purposeful simplicity is something he has crafted and searched desperately for in his time in the Order, but even then it feels rare. His fingers are still dancing across the imaginary piano keys she’s sketched onto his cast, but he glances up to see her demonstrate the lack of a callous on her fingertips. ”They won’t take long,” he says of them, blinking sleepily at her correction.
”That’s right, you are,” he mumbles. ”Well, October, I’m glad that you could make time to come and visit me. Can you tell my doctor that I want more of whatever medicine I’ve been given? I haven’t felt this good in years.” He smirks, closing his eyes contently to listen to her voice. ”I reckon a good right hook would wipe it off too. But that’s a little too crass, wouldn’t you say?”
let me see you through 'cause i've seen the dark side too.
"No, I expect they won't." You agree, though in the back of your mind something tells you that this plan will never come to fruition. Finn, sitting shoulder to shoulder with you, teaching you guitar? In what world would Cian allow that to happen? Something that feels as heavy as lead settles in the pit of your stomach. Given that you're here as a friend and not Finn's doctor, you don't hide the emotion the way you normally might, but even so, you look cheerful as ever.
"Ahh, we're going for a morphine addiction, are we?" You joke, already thinking that the amount of drugs in Finn's system is far too high. But again, not your place. "Have you got a good right hook?" It's hard for you to imagine Finn being violent, and not only because he's lost nearly all his muscle tone. In your experience that's never been the response the Spyglass chooses when it comes to fight or flight, and annoying as Dorian can be, you can't see the Orator being the one to push Finn over the line. It is rather amusing to think of though, and your lips twist in a smile as you draw one knee up beneath your chin again. "Too crass, or not crass enough? But knowing Dorian, he'd probably thank you for hitting him as it would give him an excuse to get dental surgery, or make his jaw even straighter or something." You offer with a quiet laugh.
When the night falls on you & you don't know what to do Nothing you confess could make me love you less
”Is that what it is? Maybe, then. It’s good stuff.” Finn smiles with his eyes closed, still, missing any opportunity to misread her cheerfulness or otherwise. Tobi sounds as sunny as ever, and her voice carried Finn away to places that he thinks might be safe; or at least safer than is usually the case. He scoffs at the thought of having a ‘good right hook’, clumsily shaking his head. ”Nah. My left would be pretty decent in this cast though, don’t you think?”
Scrunching his nose as the scene with Dorian plays out, Finn blinks his eyes back open to gaze up at her. ”If Doran’s jaw was any straighter, you’d be able to mark right angles on it. Like a protractor,” he mumbles, stormy eyes seeming to focus on her face and then on the wall behind her, the bedsheets, the lights. ”Want to nap with me?” he asks suddenly.
let me see you through 'cause i've seen the dark side too.
"It is strong stuff." You warn. Though your tone might be stern, your smile is still playful and infectious enough to suggest you aren't about to wean him off the drugs quite yet.
"I'm not sure it would count as a right hook then. More like a left-club." Still, it would cause quite a bruise, and though you won't ever encourage violence, you are reassured that Finn is able to make and continue jokes. Even ones made at the Orator's expense. "I should mention that to Seraphina so that she stocks up on protractors, lest Dorian gets any ideas." Sera is a firecracker, better than you in every conceivable way. Younger, gorgeous, outgoing, and more than seeing Finn throw a punch at the Orator, you'd rather like to see the Orator try a pick-up line on the Artificer.
Your gaze has been softly focused on Finn, not wanting to stare but not wanting to seem bored of him either. Now your eyes widen slightly as does your smile. Tilting your head with one eye narrowed in playful annoyance, you huff out a stream of air that pushes your bangs aside. "Tired of talking to me already?" You laugh, seeing as you won't be able to converse much more once you're on the bed covered in fur. There's absolutely no offense taken though as you shoot Finn a crooked smile. "If I was your doctor, I would advise against this, you know."
But right now, you're not. You're just October.
When the night falls on you & you don't know what to do Nothing you confess could make me love you less
”It does the job,” Finn concludes about the morphine; whether strong or good or addictive, it has given him a few stolen hours of dreamless sleep. He can see why it’s not prescribed to him as a sleep aid, given how dozy it has made him, but given the frankly terrible state of the Spyglass in his current situation, he needs it more than he can say. ”A left-club, then. Though with my luck he’d be fine and I’d end up breaking my hand worse.” His brow furrows for a second, then, Finn blinking up at her suddenly.
”I did this to myself, didn’t I?” he mutters. ”Tobi, I’m so sorry.” The words come out slurred and uncertain, but he’s trying. ”I wasn’t thinking. I shouldn’t have put that on you.” Suddenly a nap is the furthest thing from his mind, though he still offers her a sad smile at her attempt at humour. ”Luckily you’re not my doctor right now,” he says, patting the bed as if to invite her to sit.
"You'd end up making him more handsome or something. And then he'd have a story to tell all the girls to make them fall into his waiting arms." You add with a dramatic groan.
As clarity and realization dawn on Finn, you can't help the way your broken heart tugs down at the corners of your mouth. Eyes dark—but full of overwhelming affection and sorrow—gaze down on Finn from where you stand, and gods if you only had the ability to just shield him from the world. Though you move to sit on the bed, you shift instantly. Bonelessly you seem to fall against him, wriggling up the length of him as if you weighed nothing and had the anatomy of a snake. You press your cold nose against his neck, rooting your way up to puff a reassuring whine near his ear. Tail thudding softly against the bed, you nudge the side of his face, settling for nothing short of his cast around you and his good hand in your fur.
”At least if he’s telling those stories to the girls, you won’t have to marry him just yet,” he points out, though there’s not much in the way of pep or humour left in him. Finn finds it difficult to meet her eyes, bruised fresh by the knowledge that he’s landed himself in this situation (and in all the situations before it, too), and it’s only the sudden weight against the bed that has him glancing up.
Something softens in him at the sight of her, a laugh huffing out of him; Finn isn’t able to shift or move away from the assault of a cold nose and soft fur and the comforting weight against his body, and he doesn’t try besides. His bad arm moves around her as directed, the other working gentle fingers through the kinks in her fur. A shuddering sort of sigh escapes him, like he’s somehow able to forget himself in lieu of this, and his hand moves up for grateful ear scritches instead.
09-18-2020, 09:40 PM (This post was last modified: 09-18-2020, 09:41 PM by October.)
October
I can be the wall when you fall down
'Is it really so bad that I don't mind being alone?' You wonder, more or less rhetorically. You don't have the same history as Finn, but all signs point to the Spyglass having more or less the same opinion on the subject. Why is not loving someone, or not having sex with the same person on the regular, seen as such a failure?
In a very un-October and un-professional expression of utmost contentment, you groan into the ear scritches the way that only dogs can. It's a comical and rather guttural sound that has your honeyed-eyes slipping closed and your head tilting hard into his fingers. You tail wags harder, banging softly against his legs as you huff another sigh of appreciation near his ear. You're going to be alright, Finn. You think, feeling his heartbeat below your ribcage. It helps calm you somewhat, even knowing that he can't hear you. Being an attuned in Stormbreak is strange, given how few of you there are. The ability to communicate with one another is lost on you most days, but if you could, you'd pour all the love and confidence you have in the Spyglass into him just now.
Since you can't, you wriggle in his arms, being demanding in this form in a way that seems completely at odds with your normal selflessness.
Finn doesn’t think it’s bad at all, and Tobi is right; they are of the same mind on the subject, though the Spyglass hides there whereas he feels Doctor Hart is likely that way by nature. Then again, maybe Finn is that way by nature now too. Does nature change, under stress? His mind starts travelling on tangents, on ways to test the theory and research any case studies, and his eyes are closed and his breathing his already getting deeper when the pup in his arms makes it clear that his efforts aren’t good enough.
A sleepy, crooked sort of smile curls on his lips, Finn doubling down in his efforts to deliver acceptable pets. ”I don’t have the use of both arms, sorry,” he says quietly, knowing she’ll hear it without a problem. ”At least you know, now. What my right arm is better at doing.” Had they spoken about that, really? Finn thinks so, somewhere in the depths of his memories.
Attuned though you might be, all of your canine quirks thus far are completely unscripted. From the way you offer single growls when Finn's fingers get lazy, to how you groan and let your head flop on the pillow in response to the vibrations of his words, you don't suffer at all from a lack of expressiveness in this form.
The marks of brown just above your eyes make for pseudo eyebrows, which you're able to raise as you perk your ears at him, head lifted slightly off his chest. Licking one of Finn's cheeks as if to say you're more than happy with this use of his hand, you place your head on his chest, enjoying the rise and fall of it.
"Doctor Hart?" It's one of the nurses who has come to check on Finn. Her voice sounds like it wants to be chiding, but given that you answer only to Falke, it's notched respectfully back. Still, with the way her lips twist down, you know what she's going to say.
