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!
this lighthouse I built to guide my feet has burned out and I forgot where I'm going
She’d be lyin’ if she said she wasn’t surprised when Sunjata came to her an’ asked her to help out with Torchline’s quest tasks. It might’a been laziness (or sheer stubbornness, who knows?) that kept her from jumpin’ at the first round’a volunteers - an’ while Raz didn’t pry, she could surmise that somethin’ had happened to someone. Or they went missing, as folks were often wont to do.
As far as she knows, they ain’t ready to place anythin’ yet, but that doesn’t stop the little thrill of terror at the idea’a bein’ deep in the Ocean. Even with a Manta stone, the idea looms in her head like that fuckin’ Sea Panther.
So the only way to tackle this BiG sCaRy is head-on, right? Right.
By divin’ into the deepest part’a the Ocean. Obviously.
Except she’s havin’ a hard time actually gettin’ into her boat. With her arms crossed just a liiiiittle bit too tight over her chest, Raza stares down at the small vessel at the edge’a the water. The methodical (and really, quite calming) lap of waves against its wooden hull is soothing, but not enough to set her feet against the sand, not enough to let her leave. There’s only one reason Raza Ekambe has never joined Jack’s crew, and it’s because she’s fuckin’ terrified of the open water, of the darkness beneath it, and the utter known beyond that.
"Raza?" I couldn't tell if it was her from where I stood, but it looked enough like her that I felt okay with making the mistake if it wasn't. I moved towards the woman--still hoping it was who I thought it was--and her boat. My eyebrows knit together and my forehead furrowed. It was easy to tell I was curious. I wasn't sure what she would be doing all the way out here.
For anyone who knew me, though, it was easy to know. I loved the ocean. I love the ocean. Leaving the inn when I had the chance and coming to different spots where I could watch the water and the waves and feel the salt on my face was not unusual.
I want to lift my hands towards the sun Show me warmth
this lighthouse I built to guide my feet has burned out and I forgot where I'm going
Her head whirls around, wary of bein’ watched whilst in the midst of such inner turmoil. Weakness isn’t something she likes to show and it’s a little embarrassing to be caught like this, ‘onestly. Raza turns back to the boat, grimacin’ to herself. “Yep. Hey Vega,” the bar owner calls over her shoulder, quite familiar with the inn keeper. Only a smidge older than Raz, they ran in the same circles for a bit as kids. Then puberty and gangs did it’s thing and well, seems like Raza’s always been with Jack and streetrat crew.
In her focused self-anguish, Raza forgets the past, forgets that she might actually be the best person to help her right now. It does, however, embolden her to reach out to the boat, put her hands on the edges, make to push it out - but stops short of going through with the actions.
As the woman approached she heard the familiar voice pipe up at about the time she settled her gaze on Raza's face. Vega stood about ten yards out from the barkeep, studying carefully. Her eyes moved between the boat and the woman as she turned and grasped it. "I wouldn't go out there alone." She commented, lifting her hand in a manner that she may make the younger woman hesitate. "The waters can be volatile in this season." She let her eyes fall back down to the boat again. It was not a large craft, by any means, and the waves had no mercy. It was part of the reason Vega loved the ocean so -- she was merciless.
While she felt comfortable around Raza based on their history, she felt there was some formality to follow in this moment. "Can I help you?" She asked, taking a few more steps towards the woman and her boat. If Raza agreed, Vega knew she could at least help keep her safe, and she would be able to find out exactly what the woman was up to. Her curiosity was dangerous in the way that it wrapped itself around her throat and etched her words up and moved her feet in ways she almost could not control.
{Okay I am so sorry this is awkward but I am changing to third person because first IS NOT working.}
I want to lift my hands towards the sun Show me warmth
this lighthouse I built to guide my feet has burned out and I forgot where I'm going
I wouldn’t go out there alone… Yeah I fuckin’ wouldn’t either, but whatcha gonna do?
The waters can be volatile Yeh, that's the fuckin' understatement'a the year.
It’s not that Vega rubs her the wrong way, it’s that she speaks the truth and Raza knows it. She knows she’s being stupid and playin’ with fire by standin’ here and thinkin’ of headin’ out. Maybe that’s why she hasn’t gone out yet. Secretly hopin’ that someone would come along and…. Fuck, go with her? Talk her out of it? Who knows, really, other than the offer is what she’s lookin’ for and somethin’ in the proprietress unwinds a bit.
Her head slowly turns to the other woman, revealing the faintest spark’a vulnerability in her eyes. A glimpse of fear, maybe not just for the deep ocean, but that Vega isn’t sincere in her offer. “You sure?” she asks back. “You want to go out there with me?” Jerking ‘er ‘ead towards the vast expanse of water before them, her very choice of words belies how she feels about it. Skirtin’ along the shore with a Manta jewel is fine. This? This is different.
Vega stopped her forward movement when Raza turned to look at her. The flicker in the taller woman's eyes was familiar. Maybe she had never seen it in Raza's eyes before, that look, but she had certainly seen it in her own mirror. Vega simply, but firmly, nodded her head in response. The woman loved the sea, and Raza needed to out into the sea--for some reason that Vega would ask about, in time--and now she had an opportunity to go with her.
The inn keeper stepped forward and placed her hands on the side of the bartender's boat. She jutted her chin out towards the waves. "Let's go, then." She gave the woman a smile, beautiful and well-kept teeth parting her full lips in an attempt to ease any more hesitation within her childhood friend. The smaller, stockier of the two women then began to push the back of the boat along the sand.
I want to lift my hands towards the sun Show me warmth
this lighthouse I built to guide my feet has burned out and I forgot where I'm going
With Vega confidently takin’ the lead, her stomach seems t’settle right back where it belongs - in her belly. Raza still grips the sides’a the boat a liiiiiiittle too tightly, but ‘er breathin’ is steadier an’ that holy fuck I’m definitely gonna die feelin’ isn’t so overbearin in the back’a her mind.
They hit the water an’ she leans into the familiar feelin’ - the cool water lappin’ against her ankles, the sand givin’ way underneath her toes. When it reaches her calves, the Torcher jumps expertly into the boat, steadyin’ its rockin’ so Vega can get herself in too. An’ then its to the oars - which seem like silly things now, against the vastness’a the ocean, but its the only way to get out there, so Raza sets her mind to it an’ leans into each stroke, lettin’ Vega steer the boat whichever way she wants. There’s only one goal - get near the Maw.
“So,” she says by way’a small talk. “Whatcha been up to?”
Y’know, since they don’t really talk much anymore. Raza only occasionally hears bits ‘n pieces about her, and it’s never anything terribly juicy - much to her dismay.
03-08-2021, 08:00 PM (This post was last modified: 03-08-2021, 08:01 PM by Vega.)
Vega
I'll endure the night For the promise of light
Vega needed to get in the boat in a blink after Raza, being so much shorter than her. She didn't take the time to bunch her skirt up before pushing the boat into the water, and now she dealt with the heavy fabric clinging to her ankles and calves. Despite it, she was able to get into the boat without much fuss thanks to Raza steadying it for her.
The younger woman took to helping move the boat forward, so Vega settled herself down at the rudder. "Where are we heading?" She asked, though her chocolate eyes did not settle down on Raza. Instead, the looked out beyond their boat and out to the water before them, scanning for dangers in the choppy waves.
It felt exhilarating to the woman to be out on the waves, in this boat, one with the ocean. Or, at least, for a small portion of time. At the question pointed her way, she let her eyes flicker briefly to her comrade, before bouncing back out to survey their watery path. "Not much outside of the inn, really." At least, not within the last year and a half. Not since her husband died.
I want to lift my hands towards the sun Show me warmth
this lighthouse I built to guide my feet has burned out and I forgot where I'm going
“Out t’the Maw,” Raza replies, without lookin’ back at Vega. She remains stoically facing forward, tryin’ not to think about anythin’ but the rhythm of paddling they’ve got goin’. In, out. One, two, pull. One, two, pull. She knows she ought to conserve some part’a her strength for the way back, but the way her hands grip the oars, the white-knuckles against oars and darker skin - well, it’s likely she’ll have plenty’a adrenaline to help get ‘em back t’shore.
Luckily enough, the two women seem to encounter a calm sea an’ little in the way’a opposition - at least on their way out. “Any interestin’ visitors?” the proprietress asks easily, thinkin’ on the Outlanders an “Order” folks an’ demigods that come to the Hanged Man.
“I got everyone under the fuckin’ sun comin’ by sometimes. All the drama is exhaustin’ sometimes.” But only sometimes. Raza’d be lyin’ if she tried to say she didn’t enjoy the occasional loud ruckus - but only if it’s the right people. Her people.
