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!
Sam was in two minds about telling anyone of what had happened on the beach, but he'd begun to follow Nate from the Spire because he knew of all the people around, he was probably the one most likely to have experience with murder and what to do (if his tall tales about his past were true). It was likely obvious he was following Sunjata and Nate up the path back to Torchline, but he hung back until there was nobody else in sight before he ran forward to tap Nate's shoulder.
"Nate-- um--" He looked between Nate and Sunjata, tried to purposefully not think of the hallucination-driven incident they'd all shared. "Can I speak with you for a moment, before you go back to Torchline? ...Alone?" Not that he had any reason to distrust Sunjata, but the less people that knew the better. Also, since he was the Governor, he might feel more obligated than Nate to do something about the confessed crime.
If Nate agreed Sam would gently lead him away to a ruin just off the path, behind a rough wall long crumbled away. He knew he had to speak what he needed to soon, but he found at first his mouth struggled to make the sounds.
'cause karma's just a different word for bad luck &
To be healed and heading home is a feeling unlike anything Nate’s experienced before, a swelling of freedom and hope and simple calm that has a spring in his step, a excited haste to his movements.
It only makes sense that something else crops up, delays them again.
What doesn’t make sense is that something else is Samuel. Nate had assumed his fellow ascended was done with him for good, after the babbling sickness, the utterly disastrous visit they’d had, but apparently not. ”Yea, go ahead.” He rumbles, before sighing when Sam specified alone. Things always had to be difficult, didn’t they?
Reaching into Sunjata’s jacket, Nate grabs a cigarette, lights it, and kisses his husband on the cheek before following after Sam, lifting the smoke to his lips. He doesn’t drag on it until they’re stopped, slow burning ash dropping away as Sam is fixed with a single eyed blue stare. ”You can have til I’m done this.” He drawls, leaning against the crumbled wall, then immediately thinking better of it and shifting his weight, trying to still maintain his facade of cool disinterest.
He was a little surprised that Nate so easily agreed to speak with him, even if he sighed when he learnt it had to be private (Sam glanced away as Nate leaned to kiss Sunjata's cheek, trying to pretend he didn't feel a little spark of jealousy in his chest); perhaps they were getting on better than he thought, even with their meeting during their illnesses.
Sam was pretty sure Nate would stay longer once he knew what the subject matter actually was so he didn't pay too much mind to the burning cigarette, only taking a step back so he didn't have to smell the smoke. "Um. Right. So." He wrung his hands together, took a deep breath, then decided to just say it outright: Nate had to have heard worse before, right?
"I killed someone. On the beach in Torchline. I didn't mean to, but...but I did." His tone was oddly calm, the words coming out more even than he'd ever expect. "I think his name was James."
'cause karma's just a different word for bad luck &
Considering he doesn’t want to be here, Nate does an amazing facade of patience, staring unblinkingly at Sam and letting his smoke slowly burn away between his lips. With the pregnant pause, the wringing of the other mans hands, the doctor is absolutely positive that whatever this current issue is, it’s not going to live up to the buildup.
Nate has never been so upset to be wrong about something.
At first, he thinks Sam must be joking. Honestly, Sam, killing? It’s laughable. But there’s something in the calm seriousness of the bookmakers voice. The nail in the coffin, the thing that really convinces him, is the name Sam gives.
Nate lets a long moment of silence grow, watching his smoke burn away to ash between his fingers. There’s nothing on his face to read, except for a stiffness in his jaw, his teeth clenched as he works through his thoughts. ”Why... are you telling me this? What do you want me to do about it?”
Sam watched Nate's smoke burn away too, the ash moving down the burning cigarette like a timer for his reaction. Was it good, that he was pausing that long? Sam wasn't sure if he preferred this to an immediate surprised yell or not.
At least the questions were ones he could answer, even if he wasn't entire sure Nate would like what he had to say. Sam looked down and scuffed the edge of his shoe along the ground, kicking little pebbles out of the way and sighing, scarcely believing the words coming out of his own mouth. "You told me once about your past, before you came here. That you wre involved in a lot of...bad things." At the time he'd been half in love with Nate and hadn't asked for details, worried that they would mar his image, but he'd gotten the impression it had been rough.
"I was hoping you could help me with it. ...I'd be in your debt." Sam looked at Nate doubtfully, knowing full well that his help was not worth much with his upgrades gone, but it was all he had to offer.
'cause karma's just a different word for bad luck &
The cigarette continues to burn down, until finally Nate sighs, taps away the excess ash, and lifts the smoke back up to his lips. It seems less like he's waiting for this to end now though, and more like he's actually listening, considering the reluctant answers Sam provides. "I did tell you something to that effect, didn't I?" Nate sighs after a moment, considering one of the bouncing pebbles kicked by the other ascended. And as much as he was trying to distance himself from the things he'd once done, it was still some small of him.
"What kind of help are you looking for, exactly?" Nate wants to know before he agrees to anything, though honestly, the idea of Sam trying to manipulate him is a little laughable. "I want us to start over if I help you. I don't wanna deal with this shit anymore. Does that sound fair?"
Sam watched anxiously as the smoke burnt down to it's end, but it seemed like Nate wasn't actually going to make good on his promise. Pleased to see he'd at least earned a conversation through to the end he nodded, wondering how it was Nate reflected back on that time, when they had been a fledgling couple telling each other about themselves and their past. "You did. Not all of it, but...I know you've seen people die before." By your own hand, probably, he left out, but the implication was clear.
He paused as he considered just what help he did need. "Well..I want someone to go see if he's still there. The...the body, on the rocks. I can tell you exactly where, and I want you to...make sure there's no evidence around. Anything from me, or any blood, or anything." The words coming out of his mouth didn't feel real, but they had to be said; he closed his eyes and swallowed as he willed himself to be brave.
'cause karma's just a different word for bad luck &
A single sharp eye searches Sam’s face at the accusation, Nate ignoring the judgement in favour of rolling his shoulders in a careless shrug. ”I’ve seen dead bodies before, yea.” Theres a touch of a challenge there, the hilariously ill advised invitation to ask more. The red button that always seemed to come up when they spoke.
There’s a sickly kind of déjà vu crawling up Nate’s spine as the other man makes his requests, though Sam is a far sight more anxious than anyone else he’s ever cleaned up for. ”I’ll do what I can.” Nate hardly hears himself speak, his voice distant in his ears. ”If someone else finds it first, there’s not a lot I can do though. But if they haven’t, I’ll get it taken care of.”
A moment stretches out, once he agrees, long enough for the sombre look to fall off Nate’d face, be replaced by a grin. ”You know, I didn’t think you had it in you.”
Sam only nodded at Nate's confirmation, not picking up on any challenge in the words, too preoccupied with the content of them. It was not a conversation he'd ever imagined himself having, especially not from the side of it that he was, and he wanted it to be over as swiftly as possible.
He was thankful that Nate agreed to help. With their oft-strained relationship, he hadn't been sure if he would have done, or if he would have been laughed at and betrayed. Perhaps Nate was worth the second chance he asked for, if he was decent enough to do this. "Thank you, really. I understand it might not be easy...do your best." Sam really had no idea what was involved, and didn't want to know.
The silence that came over them gave him a chance to calm down, until Nate made a comment that immediately made Sam feel sick. A horrified, stricken look in his eyes, he shook his head. "I did not do it on purpose. He offered I drink and I...I was ill, and went too far. I would never kill someone intentionally - I don't have that in me."
'cause karma's just a different word for bad luck &
It’s not awkwardness, not discomfort, but something keeps Nate from responding again, from talking any more about the arrangement they’ve made, the favour he’s going to try and do. The well wishes earn Sam a nod, and then a stretch of silence, before Nate is poking fingers in places he shouldn’t.
It’s not as much fun as it once was, the scandalized reaction only making Nate quirk a brow, considering.
A tired laugh heaves it’s way out of Nate, his gaze suddenly older, a million miles away. ”Don’t get all twisted. I know you’re not the type to do this on purpose.” The weight of what he’d agreed to seemed to suddenly drag on him all at once, his shoulders slumped, his grin struggling. The deep breath he takes is grounding, as is the stretch, but once he’s finished, when he looks up at Sam again, it’s as if they hadn’t spoken of dark and blood soaked things at all.
”I’ll see you around Sam.” Comes the gruff call, thrown over Nate’s shoulder after he turns, wanting to find his husband again, wanting to go home.
