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!
and this is why i have decided to leave your house and home unhaunted
It's dark, night is growing longer as the days grow shorter. Winter has taken over all of Caido by now, though Torchline has always seen the least of it. Preparing for monsoons, and a week of pitch black, the temperatures had never bothered the natives much. Elsewhere he heard was much different, regions coated in ice that he hardly believed could be a part of the same world he'd grown up in.
He sat below a pier, feet in the sand, staring out at the ocean as it reflected the stars. The torches that dotted the beach left this hiding spot in shadows, the only light here came from the reflection of the moon, and the match he struck. After lighting a cigarette from a pack he'd nabbed off someone in Haulani, the boy leaned forwards to place his elbows on his knees, and to watch the water crash against the shore.
It feels like the time he’s spending in Torchline now is a vacation, a reprieve from the choking tension that lingered in the Grounds right now, that he would have to return to sooner than he wanted. Nate needs an actual vacation, an actual reprieve, but all he can Ama ge to seize is a few hours while Sunjata sleeps behind locked doors, under the watchful eyes of Pemota and Haai.
Nate strides out onto a spot close enough to town that people still walk by occasionally, ne’er-do-wells skulking along the pier and scuffling through the streets. A rod bounces over his shoulder, and a bag bounces at his hip, his plan obvious. Fishing. Always relaxing, right?
Well, he manages a cast, and lets his line just hang there, Nate reaching into a pocket to pull out and light a cigarette. If he notices the kid skulking under the pier, not too far from him, he doesn’t react, doesn’t acknowledge it, though... the pack of smokes he pulls out does look awfully familiar.
What's the drive in being alive if you don't know where you are? What's the fun in getting drunk if you can’t take it too far?
02-03-2021, 04:42 PM (This post was last modified: 02-03-2021, 04:43 PM by Rigby.)
RIGBY
and this is why i have decided to leave your house and home unhaunted
All is quiet, the waves that lapped against the shore had become white noise at this point. Rigby was perfectly fine to sit and be calm, reserved, brooding; to stare out at the ocean and blow puffs into the night. But a sliver of light to his left cut through the air, plunking in the water and causing a faint ripple before being taken by a wave. Chewing absently at the smoke, he followed the line up to the top of the nearby pier, finding himself looking at a familiar face.
Part of him wanted to pretend like he wasn't there, sulk in silence over the mild irritation. But the face inspired a bit of anger, a bit of spite, and the ghost was made for haunting. Without a word he scrambled to his feet and slipped quietly over to where the fishing wire hung, wading out and not minding the cold that nipped at his knees. This was probably a waste of a match, but wasn't vengeance sweet?
He lit a fire in the night, the second flicker below the pier, and pressed the flame to the line.
Nate is distracted enough by his smoke, by his brooding stare off into the distance, that he doesn’t actually notice his line going slack at first, not until he goes to start reeling it in, and finds no resistance at all. Focuses again, and finds a loose end blowing in the wind. Looking down in abject confusion, it’s all too easy to see the dark clad figure in the surf, right in the path of his line. It’s all too easy to let his mind careen down a path of sabotage and slights, stoking him into a rage.
There are a number of things he could do, a much shorted list of what he should do, but what he does do borders on insanity. Without a thought, he launches himself over the end of the pier, landing a crouch. Parts of him pop audibly, though he doesn’t feel whatever it is. Nate is back on his feet in no time in no time, limping despite himself. A hand, a finger lifts, pointing out towards the offending body. ”Are you out of your fucking mind?!” The words tear out of him, audible over the crashing waves.
It isn’t until he’s a step or two closer that he recognizes the bedraggled face, and his own expression twists. ”Are you kidding? Really?”
What's the drive in being alive if you don't know where you are? What's the fun in getting drunk if you can’t take it too far?
and this is why i have decided to leave your house and home unhaunted
Rigby stumbled back through the waves, snickering at his work well done, cigarette sat precariously between teeth. He planned to just dip back into the shadows, leaving the fucker to his own bad luck, but there was a sudden splash and a crouching silhouette before him. His eyes widen for a second, but when he realizes that it's Nate, and that he's jumped from the pier all because Rigby's sour prank, he sneered.
The other moved in closer, clearly fuming. The boy knew that he wasn't in the best position here, Nate had plenty of power over him, but who gives a shit? It was still funny, and in a self sabotaging way Rigby had hoped this would happen. He backed away through the shallows as the other man cut along, pointing his finger and spewing his anger. Rigby grinned a hyena-like grin, curls hanging over his face as he backed away.
"Hey man, wasn't me," he said, playing with fire, dragging deep on the cigarette between his lips.
”You think I don’t know a fucking liar when I see one?” With a snarl, Nate reaches out to grab the front of Rigby’s shirt, dragging him roughly into the surf, and with any luck dousing his smoke. ”I’ll tell you what thiugh. I’m feeling generous.”
He might be angry enough to do something he’ll regret, but he’s also sensible to know he doesn’t need anything he wants to do weighing on his conscious all through Longnight. He doesn’t need the distraction. ”If i see your little shithead face fucking with me again, I’m caving it in. Understand?” Nate all but throws the urchin into the water, stalling away from him and back up the pier to collect his things. So much for a relaxing night.
Done~
What's the drive in being alive if you don't know where you are? What's the fun in getting drunk if you can’t take it too far?
