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!
01-01-2021, 09:47 PM (This post was last modified: 01-02-2021, 03:49 PM by Theo.)
Out in the wilderness was not Theo's favorite place to be, but he'd caught rumor of this cache of valuables -- rumor that he knew was absolute bunk, but that he could spin into a profit of his own, maybe, with a little set-up work. All he needed was a few carefully-placed clues to send would-be treasure hunters on a wild goose chase ... (He hadn't worked out quite how this would benefit him yet, but he'd squeeze a profit out of it somehow.)
Except, being an urban creature, Theo had gotten completely lost in the woods. Not only had he failed to set up his trail of false clues -- he had no idea how to get back to Haulani. And it was dark now. He wondered, absently, if he was going to die out here. Probably not, but given that his wilderness survival skills amounted to approximately zero, it would really help if he found a path or something.
Or someone who could point him back to civilization. Hearing some rustling off in the underbrush, Theo called out into the dark: "Hello? Is anyone there?"
Theo
"Poker" by ND Strupler is licensed with CC BY 2.0.
Out in the wilderness is rapidly becoming one of Peter's favourite places. Much in the same way the Greatwood had, the jungle surrounding Torchline captivates him, nearly as much as the ocean had. And without the worry of getting lost, and starving, it was easier to roam far, scrambling up tall branches without a care in the world. It's an exploration that's louder than he would normally be, Peter getting used to a body again, when he'd spent so long wrapped up in nothing.
It seems though, that he is not the only soul deep in the jungle. The sound of unsteady thrashing reaches him from the distance, far, but not far enough to keep Peter at ease. And it's only coming closer. Thinking fast, he pulls himself up into a tree, hissing frustration at the rustling he makes himself as he gets settled.
All ready for whatever is coming to pass him by, Peter is nearly startled from his hiding place by a voice that calls out, just before he catches sight of a man who looks woefully unprepared to be in the jungle. He spends a long moment silent, almost too long, before calling out a soft. "Hello." from his aerial perch, watching the man curiously.
I don’t know where I’ve been But I know where I wanna go
"Hello!" Theo repeated, feeling a wave of great relief that bled into his voice. He looked around, trying to figure out where the voice had come from, but he didn't think to look up, so its source remained a mystery for the moment. Maybe the gods were speaking to Theo, after a lifetime of disinterest. Probably not, though.
Theo decided to skip right to the pertinent subject: "I don't suppose you could point a poor feckless fellow in the direction of civilization, could you? I may have ... misjudged my route."
In truth, Theo would need more than a just a direction to get back to anywhere he recognized. The problem with this damned jungle was that it all looked the same -- he couldn't navigate it on his own.
Theo
"Poker" by ND Strupler is licensed with CC BY 2.0.
Silence stretches out almost too long again, Peter considering the request, the stranger below him. It wasn’t necessarily outside his abilities, and the poor guy seemed harmless. His mind is made up then, and he shifts, calling out his decision.
”I can.” Though it’s not quite that simple. No indication or direction comes, but there is instead a rustling above Theo, and then a short figure wrapped in overlapping black layers drops from the branches above him, landing at his side with a surprisingly solid thud. Pet takes his entrance in stride, a hand lifting and pointing in a direction that is probably not the way back to Haulani with an utterly unearned confidence.
The hand lowers back to Peters side after a breath, unblinking eyes looking the other man over. He’s intentionally out of arms reach, and almost too still in his focus, lack of breath somehow more unnatural than it should be. ”Were you... looking for something?” There were few other thing a that would bring any reasonable person this fo into the jungle, after all.
I don’t know where I’ve been But I know where I wanna go
Theo jumped a little when the guy dropped out of the trees in front of him. For a second he thought the stranger had just fallen from the sky; then he remembered that trees could be climbed. After the long pause, he'd almost thought no one was going to respond -- that he'd been mistaken about hearing a voice, or that it had been some kind of magical trick.
"Thank you," Theo said, sounding quite grateful. He glanced in the direction the stranger had pointed, then paused, evaluating the chances that he'd actually make back to Haulani without getting lost again. "Er, I don't suppose you happen to be headed that way, do you?"
He had to take a moment to think about the man's question; then he decided to tell the truth. Well, half of it, anyway. It wouldn't hurt if rumors about a treasure in the jungle increased even more. "Well, I heard there was a great treasure out here somewhere, the find of a lifetime. Unfortunately, finding isn't my forte."
Theo
"Poker" by ND Strupler is licensed with CC BY 2.0.
A smile flickers over Peter’s face, there and gone like one of the many bugs flitting through the air around them. Thanks are still a touch unfamiliar, an uncomfortable gift that he handles with as much grace as he can muster. His eyes narrow in the direction he’d pointed, teeth worrying his lip as he considers. ”I could be.” He says in a tone that implies he hadn’t been planning to leave quite so soon. ”Did you want someone to walk with?” He is no ones first choice for company, of that Peter’s sure, but any port in a storm, and any body in a jungle.
Thought Peter himself is not one for rumours, he knows a handful of people with a chatty streak a mile wide, people who will whip the tale in a myth, with enough time. And he knows people who’s forte is finding. ”What kind of treasure?” It’s impossible to tell if his monotone is an affectation, an attempt to seem sly and disinterested, or just his voice, though the latter seems more likely, with the way Peter seems to lean in.
I don’t know where I’ve been But I know where I wanna go
"Perhaps," Theo said, a note of humor in his voice. He was loath to outright admit that he needed help, but ... he needed help. "Let's just say it would be a pity for me to end up walking in a circle and have to come back to you for directions again."
Of course Theo didn't know what kind of treasure, since it didn't actually exist, but that wouldn't stop him. He had a fertile imagination. "Gold and gems, stashed by a pirate captain two generations ago. Supposedly, someone turned up a map to it recently ..."
And Theo would be happy to sell someone that map, as soon as he had a chance to fabricate it. In fact ... glancing sidelong at Peter, he added, "I may have an idea or two of where the map is, might even have gotten a glimpse at it ... but as you can see, I'm not well-equipped to use it."
Theo
"Poker" by ND Strupler is licensed with CC BY 2.0.
This is... a touch awkward, isn’t it? At least it’s a familiar place for Peter to be wallowing in, in a conversation. Pursing his lips, he looks over into the depths of the jungle, then back, towards the beach and civilization. The last place he looks is up, squinting at the scraps of sky that tease their way through a canopy of leaves. ”I... wasn’t planning on heading back so soon.” He begins, ever apologetic. ”But if... if you insist, I could maybe... maybe walk with you to the beach?” It was still back tracking, yes, but less, an amount easier to forgive. If it was needed of him.
Gold and gems, huh? As much as he hates to admit it, as much as he should know better, Peter is interested. ”That’s handy.” Once again, his head swivels to take in the jungle, a part of him that is completely without sense wondering if maybe, he could just stumble across it, wandering back and forth without a map.
Peter has worlds of experience with every kind of thug and lowlife, every kind of person who talks with a weapon before their words. He has absolutely none with charlatans and grifters. It’s convenient the other man knows of the treasure, that he knows of a map, that they’ve come across each other in this place. And how lucky he is to be here, at the center of that coincidence. But there must be some dilemma, some reason the man doesn’t already have it. ”Do you need help getting it?”
I don’t know where I’ve been But I know where I wanna go
Theo smiled winningly, quite willing to ignore his companion's clear reluctance. "That would be quite kind of you! I'm sure I can find my way back from there."
Then Theo had to force his grin not to widen in triumph as his new friend -- and new mark -- circled the hook he'd set, clearly intrigued. He sounded casual as he improvised: "Well, the fellow with the map is this old pirate, peg leg and everything, so he doesn't get around too well -- can't get out here on his own to grab the treasure. So instead he's selling the map. Gave me a little preview, but I clearly didn't memorize it as well as I'd hoped ... Sadly, I don't have the ready funds to grab it before someone else does."
Of course, if someone were so kind as to provide those ready funds ... Theo would disappear with them, but he'd be quite willing to offer a worthless piece of paper with intriguing scribbles in return.
Theo
"Poker" by ND Strupler is licensed with CC BY 2.0.
Peter doesn’t sigh as much as he simply leans into his new task, his shoulders dropping a touch as he chooses a direction, takes a step, then pauses, and angles himself a touch more to the left. He can almost hear waves, and that’s all he needs. Besides, he’d never promised this would be quick, even if it does take time away from his personal wandering.
”A pirate?” Oh Pet is woefully hooked now, a sense of naïve whimsy blocking out his common sense. There is a moment of intense thought plain on Peter’s face, narrowed eyes looking Theo up and down before he speaks next, carefully, haltingly. ”I don’t have funds,” he’d just come back from the dead after all, he had nothing save the clothes on his back and Adam, ”but... if you tell me where the uh... the map will be, I’ll get it.” He doesn’t elaborate — Theo seems the type to know what he means, after all.
I don’t know where I’ve been But I know where I wanna go
Theo couldn't hear waves yet, but he was happy enough to follow his companion, assuming the other man knew where he was going. Hey, even if he was guessing, he might have better luck than Theo, who really wasn't doing too well today.
And another strike out: that wasn't really what Theo wanted to hear. But he forged on, unwilling to weaken his lie -- not to mention that surely he could find some way to turn Peter's unwitting "help" to his advantage. Theo nodded with a knowing grin -- he was indeed the type to know what Peter meant. "The old man hangs out at Siren's Cups -- it's a little brewery in Kaiholo Port. Not sure yet where he lives, but I get the impression he keeps the map on him all the time."
If Theo had time to set it up, there would indeed be an old pirate hanging out at Siren's Cups -- a real place exactly as Theo had described -- with a useless fabricated map, waiting for Peter to try to steal from him so that he could cry outrage and demand compensation.
Theo
"Poker" by ND Strupler is licensed with CC BY 2.0.
Peter listens intently, altogether too focused on the words, committing them to memory, for this to come across as a mere passing fancy. ”I can get that.” Easily, he thinks, if not by stealth then by force. How hard could it be to subdue an old man, one way or the other?
”How would I find you again after?” He asks, unblinking gaze turning to Theo, Pet’s steps pausing while he’s consumed by this new focus, unwittingly displaying his heart on his oversized sweater sleeve. Not that he was too naive to consider keeping the map for himself, the thought just didn’t sit right with him. As far as he knew, the other was helping him.
I don’t know where I’ve been But I know where I wanna go
Theo nodded. Hook, line, and sinker. In fact, Peter seemed worryingly intent on Theo's half-conceived scam. For an instant, Theo considered whether this was really a good idea. He knew nothing about Peter, nothing about the revenge he might take if he discovered he'd been had ... But Theo had never been a particularly cautious man, hence his current exile from Halo and the Grounds. Besides, he had gone too far now to extricate himself easily.
As for Peter's next question, though -- Theo didn't exactly want to be found after all this went down. But if he tried to be mysterious, tried to say "oh, I'll find you," he feared he'd arouse Peter's suspicions. So instead he did what he did best: lied. "I usually check in at Keelhaul Cove -- a tavern -- every few days. Leave a message for Theo, and it'll get to me."
The tavern existed, but no one there knew a "Theo," and he wouldn't be checking for messages.
Theo
"Poker" by ND Strupler is licensed with CC BY 2.0.
”Keelhaul Cove. Alright.” Peter repeats the name, his lips pursing into a tight, determined line. It would be fun to have something to pursue, and perhaps the thought of pirate treasure would lift his husbands spirits some. He nods, more to himself than the other man, then keeps walking, crashing through the underbrush.
The sound of the ocean grows louder, a pounding against the edge of Torchline, and sands begin to come into view between the trees. ”I’ll get it. Don’t worry.” He even manages to offer the grifter a smile, meant to be encouraging, though it comes out as anything but.
Peter stops at the tree line, just out of reach of the weak sun, and squints off into the distance, as if he can see the faintest shape of a bustling city. He can’t, but... it’s not to imagine. ”Will you be okay from here?” He seems genuinely concerned, his head tilting to the side as he asks.
I don’t know where I’ve been But I know where I wanna go
