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!
10-28-2020, 11:33 PM (This post was last modified: 10-28-2020, 11:33 PM by Amun.)
full moon rising on the waters of my soul
When night fell, Amun's preparations were complete and he found himself standing in front of the door to Samuel's shop. The potter smoothed out the front of his shirt. It was a billowy affair, in a shade of red half-way between maroon and crimson. He had tucked it into the form-fitting pair of black pants, which were in turn tucked into a pair of black boots. A black belt around his wait and a gold bracelet on his right wrist completed the look.
Clearing his throat, he raised one hand to knock. The other held a single rose, which was just a hair brighter than his shirt, and under that arm he had tucked a journal. After his knuckles rapped against the wood, he let his hand fall, shifting his weight from side to side.
Sam was waiting already, stood awkwardly in the middle of his living room dressed much nicer than he usually would be at this time of evening, watching Mia watch him with perplexed eyes. "I have to be ready." He told her, gesturing to himself. "I don't want to make him wait. So I'll just wait...no matter how long it is."
She gave an unconvinced meow in response.
Thankfully, the knock came only a second later and Sam readied himself, taking one last glance down at himself. An outfit much less extravagant than Amuns, a neat brown sweater pushed up at the elbows and black pants, with simple dark shoes. Still, it was more elegant than he usually looked, and he'd taken extra care to make sure he had no cat hair anywhere on his body.
He opened the door and grinned, immediately seeing the rose and chuckling embarrassed at the sight of it, quite unable to believe anyone would want to give one to him. "Amun! Wow, you look..." Sam took in the outfit, all the bold colours which contrasted all of himself except for his hair. "...Really amazing. Where are we going?"
Amun's outfit wasn't extravagant, although like Sam it was fancier than the potter usually dressed. Whistling in an appreciated tone, he let his eyes travel over the bookmaker's body. Gaze flicking back up to the redhead's face, the guild master grinned.
With his free hand, he tucked a strand of hair behind his ear while he held out the rose with the other. When the other man started speaking, however, Amun sighed. Holding up one finger (and assuming the redhead had taken the rose), the potter would clear his throat again.
Then he pointed to himself. Putting his palms together in a classic prayer position, he shifted until his hands were claws in the air (which caused him to almost drop his notebook), before covering his mouth with his free hand. Staring straight into Sam's eyes, the guild master hoped his message would get across.
Sam laughed and rolled his eyes at Amun's whistle, certain it was more of a obligatory joke than anything else. He took the rose and gently held it between his fingertips, twirling it a few times to admire the petals; stepping back, he placed it carefully atop a book in his house. "I don't want it to get damaged. I'll put it in a vase tonight." He explained, knowing he'd keep it until it was wilted and dead; no one had given him flowers before.
He blinked at the finger, a little confused by this point as to why Amun hadn't said a word. Luckily for Amun, Sam had recently been cursed in a similar fashion in a shrine. "Oh. You...can't hear me? Or you can't talk? Did you try to pray?" That was probably too many questions at once, but he was concerned. "..How long does it last?"
It wasn't a joke, but Amun had no other way of communicating his appreciation, nor was he privy to Sam's thoughts. As the redhead stepped back inside, the potter peered past the bookmaker. It was the first time the guild master had seen the other man's home, but Amun didn't have time for an inspection before Sam came out again.
Letting out a sigh, the potter shook his head, then nodded twice. He pointed at his ears and gave a thumbs up and then his mouth and a thumbs down, before doing the prayer gesture again and nodding. Shrugging at the last question, he shook his head and wobbled his hand back and forth.
Holding out his free elbow, he gestured for the bookmaker to take it. If the other man did, the guild master would begin leading them towards their destination for the evening.
Amun's miming took Sam a little while to turn into sensible conclusions in his head, but he finally managed, saying out loud to confirm: "So you can hear me, but you can't talk." What an unfortunate thing to happen, just before a date! He hoped it wouldn't mean he was going to ramble too much to fill the silence, something Sam could see looming as a definite possibility.
Well, even if there was that hindrance, he was quite happy to take Amun's elbow. Walking with a handsome man down the street towards a date was quite something else. Sam locked his front door and gently held Amun's arm, his fingers perhaps appreciatively yet subtly feeling his muscles through the shirt as they walked. "I'm very excited to see what it is you have planned."
When Sam asked for confirmation (or maybe clarification) Amun smiled and gave the bookmaker two thumbs up. The potter hesitated, searching the redhead's features to see if the guild master's curse was going to ruin the date or not. He breathed a sigh of relief when the other man took the arm Amun proffered.
Grinning, he began to lead Sam through the streets of the Hollowed Ground. It wasn't that far to their destination, but the potter took the long way there. The weather was thankfully beautiful: although they couldn't really feel the heat, the sky was clear and stars sparkled overhead. A three quarters waning moon illuminated their surroundings, casting the area in a soft glow.
Eventually, though, they arrived at the double doors that led to the Atheneum. Gently extracting himself from the bookmaker, the guild master held one entrance open and gestured for the bookmaker to head inside. Once the redhead did, Amun would let the door swing softly shut behind him, following Sam.
The library had been transformed. Strings of lights had been stretched out between the bookshelves, sparkling merrily. Turning to face the bookmaker, the potter would raise his hands again. Gesturing between the two of them, he would mime walking with two fingers. Then he would make the gesture for opening a book. Pointing at the other man, the guild master would shift into making one of his hands talk.
Sam would have been content with just the walk itself; company and stars above them, a good atmosphere around for once - it was odd, how different the Hollowed Grounds could feel depending on the day. Sometimes it seemed a bloody, unforgiving place with no colour, no light; other days, like today, it seemed humble and beautiful in it's own quiet way, romantically lit and softly turning to night.
When they arrived at the Atheneum he turned to Amun with a quizzical look, laughing a little quietly; he was not opposed to a date spent reading books, but it hardly seemed like the more boisterous man's style.
As the doors opened though and the lights became visible, Sam gasped and smiled, completely taken with the transformation. "Oh! It's beautiful in here. Did you do all of this?" He asked, squeezing Amun's arm.
There were more charades to follow, so he tried to focus and work out their meaning. "You...want me to read something to you? Or...You want to...look at different books and read them?" Sam tilted his head, unsure he was getting this one right.
Watching Sam's reaction to the decorations Amun had put up around the Atheneum, he grinned at the bookmaker's words and expression. The potter reached over with his free hand to squeeze the other man's. Nodding, the guild master swept his gaze over the library, taking in his own work once again.
At the redhead's questions, Amun released Sam. The potter held up one finger as a reply to the bookmaker's words. Then the guild master pointed that finger at the other man. Amun followed it up by making a heart shape, followed by the opening a book and the talking gesture again.
Sam had never expected to see such a romantic side to Amun, who he had thought of, from their brief interactions, as someone without much time for it. This location, the decorations and the activity Amun seemed to be suggesting were all so tied to Sam and his interests that he felt truly listened to and cared for, something that was a rare experience nowadays.
He concentrated to watch the motions again, this time really doing his best to focus and understand. "You want me....to read....you a romantic book!" Sam concluded, nodding before Amun could correct him and turning to hurry to a shelf in one of the further corners, rambling as he went: "Well, I certainly have something for that. My favourite book, actually." There was perhaps a slightly embarrassed laugh, but what overcame that was excitement to share with someone else a book he had spent years studying himself.
Returning to the middle of the Atheneum where Amun stood, Sam now held in his hands a slim volume bound in leather, no title on the front and embossed leaves up the spine. "Where should we sit?" He asked, looking about at the wooden tables and stiff-backed chairs, which were hardly comfortable seating.
Hesitating for just a moment as Sam almost got the meaning of Amun's pantomiming, he finally nodded. Gesturing for the bookmaker to lead the way, the potter jogged ahead so he could walk beside the other man. The guild master's smile turned into a full on grin as Sam got to where Amun wanted, albeit in a roundabout fashion.
Winking when the bookmaker asked where they would be sitting, the potter reached out to take the other man's hand. Tugging the redhead forward, it was the guild master's turn to lead Sam through the stacks of the Athenuem. Eventually, they rounded a corner to a little nook that Amun had prepared.
There were sandy-colored throw pillows on the ground, and on the wall he'd hung a painting of the beach at night, one that he'd made himself. More lights twinkled above to simulate the stars. Letting go of the bookmaker's hand, the potter looked over at the other man, wanting to gauge his reaction.
Sam let Amun take his hand, a bemused and curious smile on his face while he waited to see what the man had thought of now. They went past bookshelves he had passed hundreds of times in his life, but with Amun leading him and unknown possibilities around the corner, they felt brand new; he smiled at the familiar yet charmingly fresh setting.
"Oh! This must have taken you a long time to set up." He exclaimed as they came across the pillows, Sam wondering how Amun had organised everything so quickly and so perfectly to his tastes; he could not think of a time where someone had gone to this kind of effort for him before. Squeezing the other's hand before he went to sit down delicately on one of the pillows, opening the book out on his lap then looking up to Amun, clearly thrilled.
Sam tapped the pillow next to his own, gesturing for Amun to come and sit, then he would flick the book to the first chapter's page, fingers gently tracing down the center of the paper, feeling the rough ink that had dried years ago.
Smiling at Sam's reaction, Amun shrugged, glancing over his handiwork. It had taken a while, yes, but with Ascended speed and no need to sleep at his disposal he worked quickly and had a lot of hours to do it in. Nodding at the bookmaker's request, the potter settled onto the cushion the other man indicated.
The guild master tucked his legs under him. Though he wasn't touching Sam, they were quite close. Gesturing for the redhead to begin, Amun went still as only his kind could do. Except for his fingers: they slowly but steadily crept across the space separating him from the other man before hopefully coming to rest on Sam's knee.
Amun came to sit beside him and Sam glanced over and smiled warmly, hardly able to believe he'd found such a wonderfully comfortable and soft moment in the midst of this period of his life. He began to read a moment after, doing his best to keep his voice steady and clear, thinking back to lessons he'd had once upon a time with Cornelius, attempts to cure his stutter.
The story began with a knight, tired and defeated after a tough battle, reminiscing at the palace over the deeds he had accomplished. There was a lot of wordplay and poetry that threatened to twist his tongue, but Sam made a true effort to speak slowly enough that he didn't ruin the rhythm of the words. The only pause he made was when Amun's fingers reached his knee; he looked, then smiled and leaned a little closer to Amun, the back of his shoulder just touching the other man's chest.
Then Sam continued to read, reaching the second chapter swiftly and pausing to point at the illustration bearing the title, vines and flowers winding about a grand tower. "Cornelius drew this. I remember watching him do it...it seems like so long ago, now."
