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!
11-30-2020, 06:06 PM (This post was last modified: 11-30-2020, 07:18 PM by Odd.)
sleep doesn't help if it's your soul that's tired
It's business as usual again, for Finn. Working hard, playing just as hard (if one counts the guitar as playing) and sleeping barely at all. He's cleaning his glasses as he heads up to his apartments in the Tower, the Spyglass carefully tucking them away and brushing his curls out of his face with the back of his hand. Under his arm, he holds a few older tomes from the Archive - various tales about Voice shrines from before the cataclysm.
There's a yawn that wants to build at the back of his throat, and he stifles it as he reaches the doors to his rooms. He's had to replace the book where he usually keeps his key, having found it shaken to bits and missing more than a few pages on his return after he'd been ill. Now the key lives in a book about owls, Finn fishing it out and unlocking the door to step inside.
Uncharacteristically, Artemide is perched on Finn's desk. She's careful not to have moved or mussed any of his things, but she's also clearly positioned herself so as to be front and center when he enters. She does not ruffle her wings, does not tilt her head, does not hoot a greeting. Still her posture demands attention however silent she is, and her knowing gaze suggests that she's counting on the Spyglass's keen observation skills to immediately place her as needing his attention.
Finn, juggling keys and books, doesn't notice Artemide right away, but it takes only a few seconds for him to notice something awry in the apartment. He sets his belongings down on a small side table, the Spyglass gazing across at his desk, and his stormy eyes light up a bit at the sight of the owl. He feels a peculiar sense of failure when it comes to his task with her, and he's still not sure whether or not he's making the right choices day to day. (He's not. You're not, Finn).
"Hello," he greets her, moving over to the desk to take a seat at it, resisting the urge to reach out and stroke her feathers. "I'm sorry I haven't been around. Busy few days." He's left the skylight open, though, so she might come and go as she pleases.
Come and go she has, and though Finn might not have thought he's been up to task lately (he hasn't. You haven't, Finn), still, as Artemide steps aside, there on his desk are six shimmering strings.
Have you earned these, Finn? (Probably not).
But will you think of Safrin when your fingers pluck and press them? Will you always wonder if you're worthy of their magic?
Finn raises his eyebrows as the owl hops aside, and a sad smile tugs at his lips to see the strings shimmering on the desk. "Ah, that's right," he says softly - the turbulence of life as of late has made him forgetful of the reasons behind his decision to look after Artemide in the first place. "I will be sure to give my thanks to Safrin. And to you." He inclines his head, though he doesn't move to touch the guitar strings.
"I suppose this is goodbye, then?" he guesses of Artemide, tilting his head at her as if expecting her to soar away through the skylight like a ghost. She's been so much like a ghost since her arrival in his life, it would make sense for her departure to be the same.
Perhaps surprisingly Artemide clicks her beak to indicate no, using the rudimentary language the pair have created, but then also adds yes. She means of course that Finn will see her again, just perhaps not as regularly. What the Spyglass takes from this though is entirely dependant on how well he's paid attention to her answering of questions thus far.
Pausing just long enough to give Finn one of her unreadable and penetrating stares, the owl lifts silently off of his desk and through the skylight.
Finn has received:
Starlit strings | A set of guitar strings that will never break or go out of tune. Depending on the melody played, the area within a 10ft radius will reflect the music: grasses might sway, the light might darken or brighten, the air might smell sweeter, etc.
