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!
With such a wondrously crafty event coming up this season, Bastien had immediately jumped into the spirit of it. Not only did he enjoy the idea of creative projects, it was a way to channel his grief for Rexanna, especially with the lantern he would make later in the season (he couldn't quite manage it yet, but he swore to himself he'd do make it before all the leaves were gone from the trees); he had begun to sketch ideas for his doll of Ludo right away.
What he ended up with was an idea for a large doll, perhaps the size of a small child. A mask, carved and painted, on the top, resting on a body of stuffed cloth that would be covered with beautifully embroidered black fabrics and tendrils, perhaps the occasional bead in the shape of a skull hanging down throughout the layers. It would be a lot of work, which was the plan: it would keep him busy.
The Artist's Sanctuary door once again open for visitors after it's time shut during illness and grief, he sat and worked on the first piece of embroidery, humming along to something simple playing on the thought player. Early morning was just beginning to show itself so the music was quiet, but there was a distinctly jovial mood in the studio, contrasting to Bastien's sombre work.
the voice wants to be a hand and the hand wants to be something useful
When a man opens his home to you, you repay that, you show your appreciation, however he might want. Bastien has opened up far more to Nate, and all he's asked for in exchange is a visit, a few hours of his time. That's easy, the kind of thing Nate can give up for his friend without a second thought. He's come with more though, a few heavily spiced snacks for them to share, a bottle of wine with some tropical Torchline twist to it.
The door to the Artist's Sanctuary is open, not that it would have stopped Nate to find it closed; with his hands full though, it makes his life easier. "Ciao, Bastien!" He calls as he enters, setting his things down on the table he knows will be right there, mismatched eyes searching for his fellow ascended.
It's not surprising to find Bastien deep in some project, music playing. Nate almost feels bad for bursting in on the calm room the way he had, but not enough to keep from repeating the action as he walks to Bastien's side, throws an arm around his shoulders. "It's been too long." He laughs, squeezing the other man tightly before pulling away again. "What are you working on?"
The greeting at the door turned Bastien's head; the specific word used brought a smile to his face, the little touch of home letting him know immediately that his visitor had to be Nate. "Buongiorno!" He replied, happy to use some of his old tongue, and briefly put down his tools to greet his Ascended brother. He stood just as Nate came to throw an arm around his shoulders and he laughed, tapped his side a couple of times.
"It has! I must tell you, when you did not respond to my letter I was worried I had offended you. Please tell me I did not!" He stepped away and looked Nate's face up and down; he'd never thought him to the be prudish type, but perhaps he had overstepped, made assumptions about his sex life that were unfounded.
As for what he was working on...Bastien reached down to pick up the beginnings of the doll, one layer of black cloth sewed to it so far. "I am creating Ludo. I heard the God itself requested these for the season, and I could not turn down the opportunity. It has been a while since I attempted embroidery, so...it is good to challenge myself." And if he said so himself, it was going quite well, the stitches and beads swirling and criss-crossing intricately over the linen, creating beautiful patterns that seemed to grow as the eye grew adjusted to the colour.
the voice wants to be a hand and the hand wants to be something useful
The greeting he shouts into the sanctuary is met with equal enthusiasm, though the way the conversation turns immediately leaves Nate puzzled, his head tipping to the side. "I don't think you could offend me if you tried, but what are you-?" Realization strikes him quite suddenly, a half written letter left out on the kitchen counter for days, weeks, because how do you say thanks for the chance to fuck? and now it had joined the rest of the ashes that had once been home. "I'm so sorry, I meant to respond to you, things just... it's been a hectic few months." A sheepish laugh leaves him, Nate shaking his head and not at all elaborating.
No, his gaze shifts to the dark fabric in Bastien's hand, the base that its being attached to. Beadwork and swirling shapes jump out at him, seeming to shift in and out of shadows in the blur of black on black. "It looks beautiful. If I tried that, it'd come out looking like a blind kid made it." Still, it might be worth it to try and challenge himself, to get into the spirit of things, as it were. Not anything quite as complex as what Bastien was putting together, but... his eyes roam around the room, looking for something that seemed more beginner friendly, his teeth worrying at his lip while he looked.
Ah - it seemed that his friend was not offended, merely forgetful; Bastien could work with that. "Do not fret! As long as I did not horrify you with my crude letter. Are you here to take me up on it's contents, then...?" He asked, though he couldn't see Sunjata there with him. "You are still welcome to use the room, whenever you wish. I know firsthand how frustrating our Ascended shortcomings in those areas can be." While there were certainly workarounds and joys that could still be accessed, nothing quite compared to the restoration of full sensations.
He beamed at the compliments towards his doll, though shook his head at Nate's further comments. "Come now. You must know by now I will not let people disparage their own skills within these halls. Perhaps you will surprise yourself - I have many tools, if you wish to create your own." If he wasn't confident with embroidery, there were papers, clay, wool...anything one could imagine. "Besides, I'd quite like to see a blind childs art. It might be interesting."
the voice wants to be a hand and the hand wants to be something useful
A long laugh leaves Nate, his head thrown back with mirth. "It takes a lot more than that to horrify me." He says warmly, not missing the glances around for his husband. "Not immediately. I wanted to come and offer my appreciation before we... get to it." Not to mention the various jobs, meetings, conversations they both need to have, together and separately. "I have a question for you too, but, it can wait a bit. Pleasure before business, huh?"
Though art wasn't necessarily Nate's idea of pleasure, he was willing to give it a chance. When in Rome, yadda yadda. Not whatever Bastien was doing though. His nonna had quilted, but nothing on the level of what the artist is doing. Pushing himself up, Nate strides along the shelves of supplies, waiting for something to call out to him. While he doesn't hear a call, per se, something does spark in his memory, and he searches again with more purpose, finally settling on a dark, gauzy paper that crinkles under his fingers as he grabs more sheets than he perhaps needs. Then he pauses, seems to consider, and grabs some plaster powder as well.
"I think I've got an idea." He brags smugly, setting his haul on a table and getting to work.
"Ah. Then I am glad - I did not take you for a prude, but you never know. Time changes things, and I thought perhaps my dear Italy, or...where was it you are from? New...Jancy? Had different standards in your day." Bastien had often wondered what his Venice looked like in Nate's distant year; his own house, his Sanctuary; where they still there, or had they crumbled into the dust, fallen into the canal? He supposed had he not come to Caido, he would have been within Nate's time a skeleton buried under the ground or lost to time, which was a chilling thought when compared to his current immortality.
Nate apparently had a business question for him, something which struck Bastien as unusual, but he didn't ask after it right away, watching as Nate went to gather his supplies; quite the assortment of items, but he'd seen stranger things come out to beautiful pieces before.
"An idea? Oh, do tell me more." Picking his own doll back up to his face he began to sew again, speaking as he worked. "Have you met Ludo, Nate?"
the voice wants to be a hand and the hand wants to be something useful
"Jersey. It's named after someplace in uh... France, I think. Maybe England." Nate shrugs, geography not exactly a strength of his, especially now that it wasn't even relevant. "I don't think people changed that much though. I mean, we still get along right?" And he'd come to Bastien's orgy, though that's not a point he wants to shout, simply on the off chance the other man's child is about.
"It's more of a... it's something I did as a kid." Gleefully, Nate got to work, crumpling two pieces of paper together into a roughly spherical shape. A soft laugh prefaces his answer, Nate all smiles. "I have not had the pleasure. That's where the blind part is coming in." He knew the basics, of course, Safrin and Ludo the only two he had more than a passing knowledge of (discluding the Voice, obviously) if only because of who he lived with.
The crumpled paper ball is placed in the centre of a fresh sheet, Nate wrapping it like a particularly lazy Christmas present. It's only when he squeezes the 'neck' of his creation that he realizes he hasn't grabbed anything to fasten it with, and curses under his breath, rising with his sad paper ghost clutched tightly in hand.
"The only Jersey I know of is an island between the two." Bastien commented absentmindedly, trying to make sure with himself that that was correct; as the years went on, his grip on Earth geography was beginning to slip. He had drawn a map out when he had first arrived to try and keep the memories, but the fine details had already gone by then. "Indeed! You never know, though. From what I've heard from those that come to here from Earth, things are very different in the future."
He watched with interest as Nate began to crumple paper, silently wondering what the hell he was doing but not voicing it, not wanting to discourage him. "Ludo is..unique. I can't say I've ever spoken to it alone, but I've seen it before. Truly a spectre of death fitting for a horror story." The God reminded him of ghostly tales that used to be told by the children around Devil's Eve in Italy.
When it seemed Nate was done with his creation, holding it up in the air, Bastien looked up and unsure of what he was seeing, searched for something nice to say. "Ah, that is...ah...very...unique!"
the voice wants to be a hand and the hand wants to be something useful
"I mean, we had movies, and cars. I'd say that was probably an improvement to whatever you had when you came from." There's was more, so much more that Nate could talk about, medical advances and unbelievable wars and disasters and perseverance. Man had landed on the moon, for god's sake. But... he missed his car, probably more than anything else he'd lost upon coming to Caido.
"My niece is... close to it. As much as you can be to a God, I suppose." It was his main source of information about the herald, save for a brief appearance at the prior years Festival of Lights. "I've heard it's not particularly fond of Us though." The emphasis of his voice makes it clear the Us he speaks about is the Family, a glance spared towards the artist, Nate waiting for the response to his words before continuing.
Bastien's reaction to his 'art' has Nate bursting into laughter, his mix of ink and plaster left on the table so his hands can be put to better use holding himself up. "I thought you said you wanted to see bad art?" He teased, perhaps revelling in the ace that he'd proven his fellow ascended wrong so quickly. "It's not done yet either." Though, progress didn't exactly seem promising, the entire head of his paper ghost dipped into the inky mess of plaster he'd prepared, coating it fairly well, even considering the few drops that dripped like stalactites down the dolls neck.
The words movies and cars were predictably entirely lost on Bastien, who could only tilt his head in confusion at them. Whatever those were, they had not been in Earth during his time. "Well, you'll have to start to explain to this old timer. What is a...movie, or a car?" He asked, not even sure from the sounds of the words if he could guess at a purpose of the...items? Nate mentioned.
It seemed Nate was only adding confusion upon confusion, because he then mentioned a niece; Bastien was not aware of Sunjata nor Nate having any siblings in Caido, unless their family dynamic had changed very suddenly. "Your niece? Who is that?"
At least when it came to Ludo disliking the Ascended, he could nod confidently. "No, it definitely does not. But that doesn't mean we can't try and make an effort from our side. Maybe one day, when there's peace, it will count towards something." Really, he'd take any excuse to make something artsy, but he did feel that there was value in making creations for all the Gods, Old and New.
Bastien laughed as Nate did and shrugged. "I didn't say it was bad. I just don't...understand what it is. I hope it becomes clearer as you work."
the voice wants to be a hand and the hand wants to be something useful
Fuck. Between Sunjata knowing about near everything that came out of his mouth, at least in a way, and the other people he’d met from earth, Nate had never considered having to explain something from his past to someone else. ”A movies uh... like a play, but... if you copied that play into something you could watch whenever you wanted.” That made sense, right? Blessedly, cars were easier. ”A car is a horseless carriage.” Simple. No room for follow up questions, obviously.
”Melita, uh... red haired little spitfire.” Nate holds his hand out about as high as the mentioned girl, give or take a few inches. And he could leave it at that, almost does, but Bastien deserves to have some of his confusion alleviated. ”She’s Sunjata’s niece, when she came from. The times are all kinda weird, far as I understand it.”
Nate’s not necessarily sure he agrees with the artists idea. Gods seem like the kind of things that are defined by their ways. If they do not stay concrete, what keeps them together at all? But at the same time, he’s been surprised before. By Safrin, of course, and not Ludo, but one exception could mean there’s more. ”Im going to hope you’re right.” Nate offered, turning his focus back on his art.
Bastien didn’t have to say it for the thought to be obvious. ”Come on, this is clearly a ghost” Nate shakes his little doll, the paper rustling as he does. There is room for improvement though, and he gets to it right away, returning again to the shelf to find a bit of clay that can be crudely shaped into a plain mask, and attached to the head of his ghost.
The explanation of the movie had Bastien's mind reeling with possibilities, the idea sounding simply too good to be true. Of course, the artist loved the theatre, and the thought he might be able to take his plays with him, to consult them and their artistic merit any moment of the day...! "How does it work? Do the actors impart a part of their soul? Or perhaps do the people around you jump into the roles?" He was so fascinated by these 'movies' that the explanation of cars fell by the wayside, carriages nowhere near as captivating as theatre.
Melita's name sparked recognition in Bastien's eyes and he nodded with a laugh, pointing to a painting on the wall. "She came here once and painted the most beautiful picture of where she came from. I did not know she shared such a connection with Sunjata." It did seem that the Voice often chose to bring over several members of the same family or friend group; Bastien wondered if he would ever see any of his friends from Venice again in Caido.
He beamed confidently as Nate hoped he was right, more than sure he was. Bastien had always been a natural optimist and when it came to matters of the Gods he was no different. He had forever to live, after all, and it seemed unlikely this feud could last into the far horizons of time.
"If you say so, my friend. Maybe ghosts have changed since I was on Earth." He laughed, hoping not to offend Nate but genuinely quite baffled about the appearance of what his guest had created.
11-24-2020, 06:04 AM (This post was last modified: 11-24-2020, 03:05 PM by Nate.)
the voice wants to be a hand and the hand wants to be something useful
”No, nothing like that. It’s uh...” This was far more complicated than Nate had expected. ”So... at some point, someone invented a thing that took pictures of exactly what you were seeing. And then later on someone figured out how to flip through all those pictures really fast, so you can show the same thing over and over again on a tele-uh, on... a projector.” He pauses a moment to walk through his words again. ”Yea. That’s what a movie is. A bunch of pictures moving really fast.” Cars would have been far easier to explain.
The next confusion is far easier to reciting, Melita’s name apparently known to the painter, something that fills Nate with a small amount of pride, for reasons he can’t quite put his finger on. ”I didn’t know she could paint.” He murmurs softly, eyes lifting to take in the bold landscape, the bright colours, so at odds with how he imagined Korofi.
”Well what does a ghost look like to you then?” Nate did his best to not sound dismissive, but honestly. It might not be the universal symbol of a ghost, but it was certainly one of the more recognizable. His little mask turns out exactly as he expected, the shape about the only decent thing about it.
