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!
It had been a while since Morgan had come to Torchline. Last time she had been there, the Governor had been someone else entirely and her visit had been a casual, curious trip.
Now she was here on business to see Sunjata, and there was a definite power in her strides as she marched up into Haulani; she had been told she could find the Governor in Slagveld, which was apparently a boxing ring - hardly what she'd consider appropriate working offices, but she supposed it fit Torchline's general reputation of a place people went to for partying, fun and lawlessness.
Once Morgan was let into the building, which she confirmed with a look was indeed what she had been told, she went to stand by the door and wait, giving a cold eye to anyone daring to come close and ask if she wanted anything they were offering. She needed to keep a cool head, the matter she had come to discuss with Sunjata potentially very grave indeed.
Treasures and crowns wouldn't mean a thing If I only had a heart
'cause we might as well be blind, if seeing is believing, this parable's misleading
“I know you’re from Halo, but it might do some good to warm up a bit while in Torchline.” He rumbles by way of greeting, watching the person leave that Morgan had offered quite a chilly look to. His gaze slips back toward the Warden, a fanged smile of greeting on his lips as he gestures to the stairs just behind her.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, Warden?” He asks, certain that it isn’t about the letter he’d sent prior — after all, it had referred to Loren and the metal, that issue already solved. The rest of it, though, was up in the air.
The office space is relatively small, but typically Sunjata didn’t do too much within it. It worked for the spur of the moment meetings like this one, plus it came stocked with whiskey and cigarettes, anything that would make a meeting go by easier. But he offers her a space to sit before he stands beside his desk, hip resting against the edge, waiting for what it might be about — a sleeveless shirt that shows all the tattoos and scars that adorn his skin, the shifting and shimmering stars of Safrin’s tattoos vibrant against the tanned bronze of his skin, broken up only by silvery ascended bite scars that circle and dot around his neck.
you've got your shotgun loaded with excuses — that you'll fire in vain — but those 12 rounds just won't do
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
Morgan, especially not in the mood she was in right now, was not in the mood for jokes and quips. Still, recognising who Sunjata was, she decided to give him a slight smile this once; people of Torchline were, as she understood, generally more easy going than those of Halo, and she was in their land.
She followed to the office, glad that they were not to have this meeting on the boxing ring, a possibility she had considered and balked at. Morgan sat and did briefly look over the Governor before speaking; his tattoos and obvious bite scars speaking to a life perhaps more prone to hedonism than her own. Purposefully taking her eyes away from his neck, she drew from her pocket the letters Nate had sent her and placed them on the desk.
"I received these letters from a man named Nathaniel Wrenzoak. Any relation to yourself?" Morgan asked.
Treasures and crowns wouldn't mean a thing If I only had a heart
'cause we might as well be blind, if seeing is believing, this parable's misleading
A slight smile from the Warden and Sunjata wonders how one can remain so reserved, especially in a place such as this. Perhaps he had it easier, letting go of past reservations in his previous world, shifting from the cold and quiet upbringing of his to be thrown into a pit of raucousness similar to Torchline’s own. But he doesn’t comment on it, not as he guides her to the office, to her seat, before he leans against the desk and waits for the answer to his question.
Letters appear, though he realizes swiftly that they aren’t his letters. His head cocks slightly, picking one up, spying the handwriting and lifting the steel of his gaze to Morgan at her own question. “My husband.” He confirms, scanning over the letters before setting them down and looking back at Morgan. “The Voice gave him an upgrade, one that gave him a vision of the other cure.” He murmurs, a pause before he continues.
“I suppose it may or may not happen, but he wanted to let you know so that anyone in Halo involved would proceed with caution.” He stops talking now, letting Morgan take the information for what it was, unsure if it was the answer she sought.
you've got your shotgun loaded with excuses — that you'll fire in vain — but those 12 rounds just won't do
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
"I see." Well, that solved the mystery of their relation, at least; Morgan wondered if Sunjata was aware of the letters and visions, if she had just caused a marital argument whenever he got home. He mentioned that the Voice gave his love the visions, so at least he had been privy to that much; Morgan frowned, confusion clear in her face. "I did not think the Voice was the kind of God to give visions. I thought she had a more direct approach, from what I know."
She nodded, taking the letter back and folding it into a pocket in her cloak. "I appreciate the warnings. What I came to ask you is actually to aid with the caution."
Morgan's eyes met his and she folded her hands over each other. "If what Nathaniel says is true, we must be careful when the last lily is placed. I would ask that Torchline, represented by yourself and some kind of guard, accompany Halo on the journey. That we will be prepared with force and defense if something should happen - I don't want to risk it."
Treasures and crowns wouldn't mean a thing If I only had a heart
'cause we might as well be blind, if seeing is believing, this parable's misleading
There’s a considering nod given to Morgan, a brief flickering of a smile that blooms along his face. “From what I understand, if it’s important enough she’s willing to do whatever she can, especially when it comes to her ‘Bright Ones’.” That’s really all he knows about the Voice though – doesn’t believe her to be as ominous as the Old Gods could be – mind flickering back to Safrin briefly before he pushes it aside, the starry tattoos on his arms shifting slightly with the thought of the goddess.
But she takes the letters back, stuffs them into her pockets, and Sunjata listens with a bit more attention given. “Oh?” Their eyes meet, his steel sharp and calculating as she lays out her request. He’s silent for a brief moment, chewing on the inside of his cheek while he considers it, everything he still has to do in Torchline as well. But there were those still sick in Torchline, those that needed this cure too who didn’t need to be put in danger because it went wrong.
He nods, a low dip of his head as he pushes himself off the edge of the desk to take a seat on the other side across from her – leaning back in his chair, pulling out a cigarette from the drawer and lighting it up. “I can do that. When will you have all the lilies?” He asks, a tilt of his head while he exhales a plume of smoke.
you've got your shotgun loaded with excuses — that you'll fire in vain — but those 12 rounds just won't do
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
"That's what I mean. I would have thought her the type to simply tell her followers what to expect, rather than rely on cryptic visions." Morgan frowned, finding the whole thing quite odd, assuming Nate was telling the truth. Still, she never had met the Goddess, so maybe her own understanding was simply lacking.
She had never been fond of smoking and the cigarette earned Sunjata a raised brow and a hard eye, but she didn't say anything of it, planning to leave before the room got too unbearably full of the odour. "It will likely be in the next few days. I advise you travel to Halo as quickly as you can, and we shall await your arrival before we depart." Deimos had been to collect some of the flowers, she knew, and would want to leave soon.
With business sorted, she stood from the desk. "Thank you for your assistance."
{FIN}
Treasures and crowns wouldn't mean a thing If I only had a heart
