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!
The Artificer is expected. As such, there is a hot kettle for tea and two teacups. There is also a large decanter of whiskey with glasses as well, should that be more to her taste. The door to his office is open, leading into a room of floor to ceiling shelving and rich red carpeting. The drapes are pulled open to let the light stream in through dusty and thick windowpanes. For all the Eye's clout, he seems to do much of the cleaning in this room himself.
Sitting at his desk, a rather plain folder in his hands, the Eye periodically removes the cigarette from his lips to tap the ash into an ornate tray at his side. Never once do his pale eyes move from the page, so ingrained and second-nature has his smoking become. Dressed as he normally is, a waistcoat over a crisp white button up shirt and trousers, Cian looks like a man who might be posing for a catalogue, so impeccably polished is everything about his attire.
it's cold, it's dark, it's deep and it's wet and you ain't gonna make it if you don't let someone in
Seeing Cian was decidedly unexpected. But appointments were appointments, and she was there to do her job. Still, she can’t help but to think of what Finn had mentioned when they’d jested of putting a skylight into the Eye’s apartment. It’s a thought that banishes as soon as she’s stepped into the space, her blueprints under her arm, a notebook accompanying it, and Levi settled easily on her shoulder perched like a parrot, his tail swept around her neck like a pearl necklace.
She knows better than to say she hopes she’s not interrupting. He’d been expecting her, after all. And it’s that thought that has Sera breezing into his office with a brilliant smile on her face, a dip of her head given in greeting, searching for the other socially acceptable greeting. “Hello Cian!” She chimes, waiting briefly for her words to be registered. "How are you?" She asks at first, not wanting to dive in too fast.
darlin', darlin', why don't you sleep at night? the colder the heart, the warmer the gun
For a moment the Eye doesn't look up. He's aware that she's entered of course; Sera has a certain presence about her. A brightness that fills any space she's in. Even so Cian continues to scan the paper he's holding as his cigarette trails out random patterns of smoke by his cheek. After a moment, his lip twitches slightly with words unsaid and he puts the paper into its folder on his desk. Only then does he look up at Sera; it's a long and lingering look, as if he might be preparing to paint her, so intense is his stare.
After a long moment he nods, his smile crisp. "Well, thank you." He answers, his accent dusty and his voice not unlike the smoke trailing from the cigarette on his desk. Moving towards his drink cart, he looks over his shoulder. "Tea? Whiskey?"
it's cold, it's dark, it's deep and it's wet and you ain't gonna make it if you don't let someone in
There’s something about Cian, the way he looks at you, that has you rooted to the spot, breath hitched and held as if making the wrong move would absolutely destroy the façade. That’s exactly what Sera does, remaining still, meeting his gaze despite the fact that it feels like it pours through her and devours every little secret of hers – if she had any, but the look makes her wary of whether she does or doesn’t, funny how that works – only releasing her breath when Cian responds.
She’s not expecting the option between tea and whiskey, and with that penetrating stare of his over with, she can’t help but to request the drink she needs the most. “Whiskey, if you don’t mind.” Something to take the edge off, even if it ended up being a ridiculous idea. Sera has a tendency of taking the edge off just a smidge too much, some nights, but she supposes that’s why those near her consider her to be ‘fun’. Still, she keeps that easy smile on her face, not taking a seat until he gives the go ahead.
darlin', darlin', why don't you sleep at night? the colder the heart, the warmer the gun
"Not at all." He says on the exhale, the words almost like a sigh. Pouring them each a healthy drink in glasses which likely cost enough to barter for an entire house, Cian turns on his heel to offer Sera's drink out to her. "Please—" Holding out his hand one she's relieved it of her glass, he gestures to a lush couch and two chairs arranged near the fireplace at the other end of the room.
Allowing Sera to go first, she might wonder whether or not his eyes are straying lower, if they follow the sway of her hips or if they remain appropriately level. In this, Cian is a rather strange sort. One would expect a man as ruthless and indomitable when it comes to his passions as he is to take whatever eyeful is offered. Instead, his gaze does remain polite. Whether that is only for now, or because Sera holds no interest for him, is as of yet unknown.
He waits for her to sit—the couch, or the chairs?—and will take up a place next to her on the couch, or in the opposing chair based on what she decides. Leaning back, Cian's casualness in any situation never changing, he crosses one leg over the other and folds his hands into his lap. "To progress." He suggests, raising his glass to her, before taking a healthy swallow.
it's cold, it's dark, it's deep and it's wet and you ain't gonna make it if you don't let someone in
His voice is one that runs along her spine, though she doesn’t know quite how it does. Whether it’s the soft touch of a caress or a cold shiver. But she remains bright, cheerful, vibrant as he pours the glasses – taking hers when it’s offered, the scent of the liquor soothing any of the curiosity within her. It’s the best of the best, not unexpected for the Eye.
He gestures to the seating area before the fireplace, her steps taking her there with an easy pace. She doesn’t notice where his eyes drift, nor would she particularly care – dressed impeccably well as she usually was prone to do. A pencil skirt, a high set of dark heels, a blouse that clings to her curves and showing every bit of them off. If she flaunts, so what? She always has, it wouldn’t be out of the norm for her.
She chooses the couch, because she’s far more comfortable within it than chairs – specifically why she had one in her own apartment, to lounge about on comfortably. Here, she’s more reserved, sitting near the edge so Levi can hop off her shoulders, to perch on the arm of the couch while Sera shuffles the blueprints into her lap – legs pressed together and tilted to the side. “To progress.” She agrees, flashing him an easy, bright smile, taking a sip from the whiskey and losing herself in the burn for a split second – relishing it. To take the edge off.
She holds it in her hands back in her lap, letting her gaze flicker back to Cian, a small smile playing at her lips. “I’m sure you heard of my upgrade to the Spyglass’ office. What did you have in mind for yours?” She asks, poking and prodding for an answer.
darlin', darlin', why don't you sleep at night? the colder the heart, the warmer the gun
With one arm stretched out across the top of the couch—were Sera closer, it might be poised to wrap around her shoulders, but perched on the edge as she is, for now the Eye's position is merely one of comfort—as he makes his toast.
"I did indeed." The Eye agrees with a warm smile. "Pity he left for Torchline before he could really enjoy it." Cian adds, ever casual with the wealth of information he seems to always have at his disposal. Letting his face turn entirely toward Sera now, his smile wide but without teeth, he stares at her for perhaps a moment longer than anyone else might. Is he waiting to see if she'll fidget under his gaze? Is he trying to make her uncomfortable, or, like any great connoisseur of beauty, is he merely drinking her in without feeling rushed?
"Sound proofing." He says at last, offering no further explanation.
it's cold, it's dark, it's deep and it's wet and you ain't gonna make it if you don't let someone in
Distance, unless he invites her, in which case those thoughts race back to the forefront of her mind of what Finn had let slip. But she doesn’t voice any of it, as per usual, instead listening when he tells her that the Spyglass had left. Surprise is clear in her face, the way dark brows itch toward each other, her eyes squinting slightly, before she looks back down to the glass in her hand and begins to lift it. “That is a shame. I was very proud of that one.” She agrees, her tone soft as she takes a sip from the whiskey and relishes the smooth burn of it going down.
His eyes are on her, though, and the glass lowers back to her lap, fingers idly running along the edge of the smooth curves. She looks back at him, meeting his gaze, not shying away from it despite that very intense sensation as though he’s looking through every bit of her. It’s thrilling in a sense, in a way that makes you wonder whether or not it’s a good thing. It’s a dangerous line to walk.
’Soundproofing.’ She hears him say, and that smile remains on her face, playful and soft. She leans forward to set the glass on the table before the couch, shifting papers in her lap until she’s only got a notebook settled in, flipping to the page after ‘Spyglass’ as she flips through them. ‘Eye’ she writes swiftly, underlining it, twirling the pen in her hand as her gaze lifts back to Cian and she lifts one leg up further on the couch so she might face him a bit more fully. “For all rooms including the door?” She asks, her gaze scanning his face though she knows she won’t find anything there.
darlin', darlin', why don't you sleep at night? the colder the heart, the warmer the gun
"Hopefully he'll find time to enjoy it." The Eye mentions smoothly, as if Finn's disregard for the orders he's been given and subsequently broken, will have no bearing on his continued freedoms.
Just like before, Cian's eyes remain firmly raised, rather than lowering to where Sera's legs move on the couch so that she can face him. In her skirt and heels, such a thing necessarily reveals more skin. Surely he must be able to see that though, in his peripheral vision? But gods if he doesn't just look like a gentleman. Once, when his wife was alive, it would have been easy to believe that he wasn't looking. That he didn't look. But now? Two years after her death?
Ahh, but back to the task at hand.
"If it isn't too much trouble." He replies with a nod, knowing that it absolutely won't be for Sera. But then, even if it was, this did not seem to be the sort of request to deny. "Understandably there is a lot of...sensitive material in this room. I'd prefer if all the work was done while I was present, and completed by you, and you alone."
it's cold, it's dark, it's deep and it's wet and you ain't gonna make it if you don't let someone in
She hopes he does find the time to enjoy it, but she doesn’t entirely air the thought as she’s shifting, readjusting, her notebook settled in her lap and the pen swiftly writing out the new page. A tracker for all of her projects, really, like a little trophy case she can carry around with herself. But it becomes apparent that she doesn’t really need the blueprints as much as she initially thought, her attention returning to the notebook to scribble out how every wall would need to be soundproof, the door included, making small notes that flicker in her mind as to what material would work best for this. “It isn’t.” She flashes him an easy grin, confidence seeping through it at her ability to accomplish it.
But he continues, her gaze lifting to meet his again as she sits up a bit more fully. It takes her a moment to mull it over, to have those that typically helped her gone, it would prolong the work but something tells her that Cian wouldn’t mind, so long as it got done by his orders. And besides, he’d be observing it anyway. So after a moment she nods, a dip of her head, making a note off to the side with nothing too revealing as to sensitive materials in the room and simply puts ‘extended’. She’d understand, that’s all she needs.
“It will take more time, but I can do that. Are you looking for a permanent soundproofing or temporary?” Would it be something she could partially accomplish right now, or would it be something that required a bit more thought?
darlin', darlin', why don't you sleep at night? the colder the heart, the warmer the gun
"Glad to hear it." Though he doesn't sound glad at all; the Eye sounds as though he wouldn't have expected her to say anything else, even if it was a problem.
"Time isn't a problem." Cian says graciously. He has all the time in the world, in some respects, being The Eye. But precious as his time is, Sera will know well that this doesn't not mean his renovations should be given a lower priority. "Permanent soundproofing, I think." This he says as if the question hasn't occurred to him, although everything about him screams that it has. That likely he knows precisely how this conversation is going to go, that he's predicted everything Sera might ask, everything that she might do.
"What beautiful—" His pale stare nearly sings into hers, her confident and youthful gaze swallowed by his older one. "—writing you have." Cian finishes, his eyes dripping down toward the paper that covers her legs. Raising his glass to his lips, the Eye finishes the rest of his drink before rising off of the couch. Looking down at Sera, backlit against the large window on the opposite wall, the Eye looks toward her drink on the table. "Another?"
it's cold, it's dark, it's deep and it's wet and you ain't gonna make it if you don't let someone in
Time isn’t a problem, she should have assumed as much. But it did little good to assume anything about the Eye as she’d quickly learned. So she hits down a few more notes, ensuring she knows that it’s permanent, if putting new material in for the walls as an inner coating to absorb it, some weatherproofing for the doors and windows to help add even more.
The weatherproofing is an easier task, one that can be accomplished today even, and she flips to a page in the back to tear out a paper to write swiftly some of the materials she’ll need made. Folding it up, she hands it to Levi so that he’d be able to go and get it started. But she peers back at Cian when he speaks of her handwriting, a smaller almost bashful smile crossing her face. It was nothing like Cian’s handwriting, simply just a quick mashup of cursive loops and print, namely only for her eyes. “Thank you.” She says, softly, quietly, tucking a bit of dark hair behind her ear.
He finishes his drink and stands, and Sera sets aside her notebook, reaching for her own glass to finish the rest of it. “Please.” But rather than have him wait on her, she collects her glass, stands, slipping to the door so Levi can depart and get the note to her fellow workers, before she steps over toward Cian and the cart, her glass half extended for him to pour more in, loosening up by the minute as the edge is taken off.
darlin', darlin', why don't you sleep at night? the colder the heart, the warmer the gun
Though Cian raises his brow, it doesn't create a look of surprise. Instead, it is more like subtle appreciation as if Sera has just made a formidable move in a game of chess. Having poured his own drink, the Eye reaches out for the Artificer's glass as she returned from the doorway. Adding a healthy amount for her and handing it back, again the Eye lets his gaze settle upon Sera.
"You are the youngest member that the Order has had in years." He notes casually, opening his arm to gesture that they might both return to the couch. "And despite this, I would say you're easily one of the most accomplished." Her work was unparalleled, her dedication and mastery evident in everything she did.
Taking a seat on the couch and turning his body 3/4 that he might face her, an arm raised over the back of the couch, the Eye lets his compliment stew for a perhaps a moment longer than is comfortable. "Tell me Seraphina, having accomplished so much already...where do you see yourself down the road?"
it's cold, it's dark, it's deep and it's wet and you ain't gonna make it if you don't let someone in
He pours quite the healthy amount, and she brings the glass back to cradle it in her hands against her chest – now that it’s just him and her. His pale gaze finds her again, that smoky rough voice rattling against her spine again as he gestures to the couch and she follows suit, not even thinking of what kind of alternatives there may be. And instead of settling on the edge of the couch this time, she sits a bit closer – a bit less standoffish, the alcohol certainly doing its job in warming her up and loosening her edges.
“I’m very proud of the work that I do.” She replies, flashing an easy smile over the edge of the glass as she takes a deeper sip, letting the warmth of it spread through her with a bit of a satisfying smile. It returns to her lap as she lowers her hands and focuses on him – are they closer? If she leaned forward just a small amount, would his arm slide around her? Was that a complication for their work relationship? Was it something she even cared about?
She was a flirtatious little thing, and nearly preened at whatever compliment was thrown her way. It was no wonder she was a follower of Frey under that regard. But his eyes bore into hers and she pauses a few moments to consider her response, her tongue sweeping out across her lower lip as she thinks. When the silence finally breaks, it’s with a wide grin and a quiet hum of laughter. “I don’t suppose I imagined doing anything else other than this. I create. That’s what I do, I can't imagine doing something else.” Unless of course he had other ideas, but as far as she was concerned, this was the path she’d chosen and she’d try to remain as the Artificer for as long as she could. It was comfortable and she was damn good at it.
darlin', darlin', why don't you sleep at night? the colder the heart, the warmer the gun
