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!
Buoyed with knowing far more than he did last week and a sense of hope for Finn, Falke seems to float back to the Tower. Well, he walks - without pain and without a limp, for as long as the hot springs’ water deigns to work its magic on him.
There are some things to be done first, but when those tasks are completed and the appropriate people talked to, Falke (still feeling great, thanks to Frey), heads out for the Temple, a curious, pondering air about him. There are questions and thoughts in his head that he imagines only the Priest can answer, and while he will still put them down in his journal, the Fixer knows himself too well; he must have an actual conversation with someone.
An acolyte directs him to Gideon’s quarters, where Falke knocks gently upon the door.
THE 'FIXER'
the greatest fear I've ever kept is dying with regrets
It was rare that Gideon had much down time, but this particular day was mostly empty; the services were in the early morning and late evening and throughout the day the Temple did not need his attention, the soft candlelit space simple open to any who wanted to use it; he trusted the people of Stormbreak to be responsible with their prayers.
In his chambers above the temple (a small, humble place, really. The only thing to make it seem grand was the high stone ceiling, though it was mostly just full of cobwebs), he sat and wrote in a notebook, trying out thoughts for a new sermon. As he worked he had allowed himself a little indulgence; a bottle of something strong and bitter on the side of his desk, which he took regular swigs from. The pleasing sensation of being lightly tipsy had just began to settle in when there was a knock at the door.
"A moment." He yelled, sighing as he hid the bottle away in a drawer and grabbed a glass of water to swill around his mouth, hoping to hide the smell on his breath. There was nothing else he could do, so he went to open the door, smiling as he saw it was Falke and not anyone closer. "Oh, Doctor! I trust you're not here to tell me I'm dying?"
“Gods, I hope not,” Falke says, doing a quick check around the two of them. “Why, do you suspect you are?” He does, at least, refrain from pointing out that Mort or Ludo might have the kindness and foresight to give the Priest a heads up if his time is coming. And most importantly, that the Fixer is not the mortal harbinger of either.
Though his most recent encounter with Gideon has led Falke to believe that the Priest is less uptight than he might have previously thought, something seems a bit… off? about the man. He can’t quite put his finger on it yet, and he isn’t close enough to smell the alcohol on his breath, The Fixer’s eyes narrow ever so slightly. “No, I actually came to tell you that I met her.” There’s a mostly unintentional pause as he expects Gideon to get it, and then quickly realizes that he may not - not because he’s drunk, but because the statement was vague. So he ads, “Vi’s chosen. Amalia.”
THE 'FIXER'
the greatest fear I've ever kept is dying with regrets
"When you get to a certain age you begin to suspect it every morning." Gideon joked, though he did know he was too young to genuinely be considering his demise each day. As the moments passed and Falke made no mention of drink he relaxed, decided he must have gotten away with it and stepped back when Falke revealed his reason for visiting, inviting him into the room with a gesture.
Gideon went to sit on his bed, offering the desk chair to Falke. "You did? How was it?" He was a little surprised that the Fixer had made a special trip just to impart this news, but he was interested enough in Amalia to want to know about it. Trying to lean back on one hand, Gideon slipped momentarily and fell backwards, swiftly catching himself but not quick enough for it to be unnoticeable. Maybe he was drunker than he thought. "Oops. Tired, I think."
“Do you think Ludo would give you a heads up?” Falke muses aloud, stepping in after the Priest and following him into his quarters. It’s the first time he’s been there and takes care to not stare and analyze everything in the room.
“Interesting. She is definitely lacking in confidence.” A considered pause as the Fixer settles himself on the edge of the desk again, but not so settled as to not try and half-lurch forward to make sure Gideon is alright after ‘slipping.’ “Tired, eh?” He glances to a clock on the wall and finds it isn’t too terribly late in the evening. “Long day?” Whatever else he was going to say about the demigod encounter is put on pause as he really looks at the other member, trying to figure out what he isn’t seeing.
THE 'FIXER'
the greatest fear I've ever kept is dying with regrets
"I'd really rather it didn't. Can you imagine the stress?" Gideon laughed lowly; perhaps some wanted to know their futures, the minute they would die, but he didn't; he was by nature a planner, someone that worked to ensure the best outcome, and he knew the weight of the knowledge would crush him.
He nodded at Falke's comment on Amalia; he still found it hard to comprehend, her humble shyness and doubts. While Gideon liked to think he wasn't all that vain, with that kind of Godly blessing and vouching behind him, he knew he'd find it hard not be proud.
But of course, Falke noticed his slip and the subject moved on. He nodded and laughed, rubbed at his chin, trying to appear casual but not quite meeting the other mans eyes. "Mmm. I wake up at dawn to attend to the Temple, light the candles and prepare for the first service of the day. It's quite late for me, even if it's not for other people." In fairness, this was true, but Gideon usually just simply didn't get much sleep.
Finding himself in surprising agreement with the Priest again, Falke chuckles and makes a face. “Yes. Yes I can. Quietly in my sleep for me, please - if that’s a request that can be made.” It’s half joke and half… something else. He’s never sure how much power Gideon wields, what his pull with the Gods might be. No demigod, to be sure, but are their ears not tilted towards him every now and then?
And as Gideon explains that it is quite late for him, Falke finally realizes what he’s seeing. A lack of sleep; nowhere near as extreme as Finn’s, but still there. It’s common enough in Order members, so the Fixer decides to go ahead and do what he does best - try and fix. “Of course, I’m sorry to interrupt so late. But ah, while I’m here, I might as well ask - are you sleeping alright? We have all sorts of things that can help with that.” Smiling gently, the Fixer tries to make it seem like it’s just a routine question (in a way, it is), rather than something he might have ‘noticed.’
THE 'FIXER'
the greatest fear I've ever kept is dying with regrets
"I'll put in a word." Gideon promised with a smile, but really he held no power whatsoever over anyone's death, and he assumed that Falke had to know that. He was no more than a messenger; perhaps sometimes an enactor of the Gods' will, but never able to influence their decisions. To think he could would be blasphemy.
Thankfully, it seemed he'd successfully thrown Falke off the trail of why he was a little woozy; Gideon politely smiled and shook his head, gesturing 'no' with a waved hand. "I'm fine - I'm sure it's just age and hard work. I sleep like a baby, when I do." That much was true. Whatever other people felt the Priest must have on his conscience, he'd never had difficulty living with himself or his actions at night. Leaning back a little, he looked Falke over and without wanting to seem rude, but wanting to collapse in a drunken nap soon, asked: "Is there something else you need?"
Need? No. The Fixer shakes his head and makes to go, even getting so far as halfway to the door before a thought occurs to him and he might as well since Astor is super curious he’s already here. “If it’s not an imposition -” and even if it is, perhaps the Priest will spare him another couple of minutes. “What’s your tool?” he asks with a slight tilt of his head. He knows some of the other Members’ because he’s worked with them, has answered the question when he’s brought his fancy glove out to diagnose whatever is ailing them. Gideon, however, has never come to him for psychological reasons, so they’ve never had that conversation.
THE 'FIXER'
the greatest fear I've ever kept is dying with regrets
Gideon watched Falke get up and was about to go to blow out his candle so he could sleep off the drink, when the question came. For a moment he paused, an immature smirk on his face: "Man could think you had intentions, asking that in his room at night." Shaking his head with a laugh, he went to the desk and picked up his ring, holding it out in his palm for Falke to see. It was simple, a silver band with a small red stone cut into the shape of a diamond.
"This lets me know how the Gods feel about anyone I see." He explained. "Honestly, a lot of the time they don't feel much of anything about someone; it's a good reminder of just how unimportant we all are, in the long run." Normally Gideon didn't like to reveal how he knew so much of the God's intentions and preferences, but with another Order member, he felt it was only fair.
“Who says I don’t?” The Fixer jokes back, giving Gideon a raised eyebrow sort of look.
He doesn’t. The Priest is much to pious for Falke’s liking, but no one can deny that the older man is still handsome.
Anyway. He waves it off with a smile when the other man goes to his desk and pulls out a ring. Taking a step closer, he clasps his hands behind his back and bends a bit towards the outstretched hand. “It’s beautiful,” he says, a mundane observation, though it could be taken as a comment on both statements. With a glance again towards Gideon’s face, he straightens - and wrinkles his nose a bit - is that alcohol? Well, if it is, he can’t judge. It’s the man’s private time and Falke did just kind of barge in, unannounced.
“A selfish question, but what you said obviously sparks some more curiosity. Any feelings about me?” It’s odd asking about himself. The Fixer never really does that; he's usually all about other people.
THE 'FIXER'
the greatest fear I've ever kept is dying with regrets
"Unfortunately for you, I'm now old enough to need that sort of thing scheduled several hours in advance." Gideon laughed, shaking his head; Falke needn't have worried anyway - it was very rare for the Priest to find himself genuinely attracted to someone, and his tastes skewed older than the Fixer.
People didn't often comment on the beauty of his ring itself and Gideon was surprised, looking between it and Falke for a moment before nodding. "I suppose it is." Having had the thing for so many years, it had become almost mundane, though the power it held was anything but. Standing back, unawares that he'd been caught out for the alcohol on his breath, he was already slipping it on before Falke asked his question.
No one ever got this far without asking for their own reading.
Watching over the Fixer for a moment, Gideon let his mind clear for the feelings and opinions of the Gods to flow in. "The strongest connection is to Mort, who values the work you do. It helps those that are here live a fulfilling and good life and keeps them from meeting their end too soon."
It isn’t at all what the Fixer expected, but in a way he’s glad to be surprised. And feels, perhaps, a little foolish for not thinking of that perspective earlier. He is noticeably contemplative now, nodding a little absently as he digests this newfound information. “I’d never thought of my work that way,” the man says slowly as he absently twists his own Order-Accepted ring.
It’s an honor to hold the kindly god’s affection - he knows this full well - and the younger man is certainly glad of it. But (there’s always a however, isn’t there?) it prompts more questions. “Is it insulting to have a greater affinity for the other Gods, then? Or foolish?” The fixer doesn’t ask for much, not really, and he would hate to seem like he’s pandering for affection. But he also doesn’t want to insult Mort, since as the Priest put it, connections are rare.
And always aware of others, Falke holds up a hand. “Last question, I promise. I’ll let you get to bed soon.”
THE 'FIXER'
the greatest fear I've ever kept is dying with regrets
Gideon smiled as Falke came to the realisation, always glad when his teaching or guidance led people to new ways of thinking and considering their Gods. "I think it's a good perspective. Maybe you could pray to Mort to talk to him about it, one day." It was unlikely Falke would get an audience with the God any time soon, but not impossible, if he proved himself a devout follower.
It seemed that might not be the case though, as Falke asked his question. Gideon could help but give a wry laugh, finding it almost funny; so many people he saw begged for the favour of any God, and Falke had it and desire another's. He leaned back and thought for a moment, trying to decide what the correct theological stance on this was. "Well. I suppose firstly it depends which Gods you have this affinity for. Then...no, probably not, but I would advise you make sure to return some of Mort's affection before you lose it."
There was one last question, and quite enjoying this conversation now, Gideon was eager to hear it; he gestured for Falke to go on.
