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!
Well, surprises on surprises. Perhaps he should keep his ear to the ground a little bit more, should listen to the chatter that floats around. Nate simply nods though, his lips finally quirking up in something that feels halfway real. ”Its relieving to know there’s not as much of the world as I thought against us.” Fingers tap against his glass, the doctors head tipping to the side to fix Neron with a calculating gaze.
”There was a priest trying to start some shit in Torchline recently.” It’s the news that’s freshest in his mind, most worrying for how close to home it was. Though, that isn’t his only encounter the Order. His glass lifts to his lips again, Nate not actually drinking while he considers Finn, considers mentioning the strangely tranquil walk they’d shared. It is an encounter though. ”I met another one too, before we knew too much about them. He was... strange, but...” A single shoulder lifts in a shrug.
You got me actin' like the old me But you don't even know me
"You're telling me," Neron murmurs, raising his glass in a makeshift toast and knocking the rest of his drink back. He gives the map and the sort-of-strategy they've come up with one final glance, before he lets the conversation move to other matters. Matters that speak of order but offer nothing but chaos for the Ascended. He's not sure what to make of it, but the Launceleyns had been the instigators of violence so often that he's quite used to slipping back into that frame of mind.
A priest starting shit, though? Neron snorts. "Of course it would be," he mutters, more interested than anything in the other encounter he mentions. "Strange? Strange can be completely harmless, or incredibly dangerous," he mutters. "Have you heard of anything close to the Grounds? If they were going to make a move against the Ascended, you would suspect it would be now, when we are gathered together."
Even if they’re no longer talking about it, the bit of charcoal still sits between Nate’s fingers, wearing a dark hole into the corner of the paper. He’s slower about it this time, but the rest of the bottle is tipped into Neron’s glass, the doctor not reaching for another bottle quite yet.
”The only thing he seemed to pose a danger to was himself, if I’m being honest.” And he is, because this is serious and as fitting as it would be if his own joke put him in danger, they are not odds he’s willing to bet on. ”He liked Pem, and he didn’t seem to have any... reaction to me, so...” All he can do is shrug along with that. It’s all too easy to fake tolerance for a time, though Nate likes to think he’s better than most at picking it up, and he hadn’t here. So... maybe that means they can disguise themselves, to some extent?
You got me actin' like the old me But you don't even know me
"You are really painting out these Order members to be quite formidable," Neron drawls, accepting the very last of the bottle of liquor and knocking it back in one smooth and flowing movement. "From everyone's suspicion and rumour, I had it in my head that they would be super soldiers." Scared of their own shadows and a danger to themselves did not seem to be quite the same vibe, in his opinion.
But then again, what does he know? Clinking his empty glass against Nate's in a cheers and tapping at their makeshift map and plan with his free hand, the Hailstorm settles somewhat on his stool. "At least now we have something to show the others," he says. "It may not be pretty, and it may not be right, but it is something."
And that was a lot more than they'd had prior to now, wasn't it?
