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!
Despite living in a coastal town, Maeve doesn't often find herself on the beach. Not because she disliked it. There just hardly seemed to be enough time. Her days are spent working and most of her nights too. Except with her mishap in the Wilds the other day, she decided to give herself the night off. A moment of respite before the rush to prepare for the impending monsoons overwhelmed the city.
Her toes sunk into the soft sand, pushing water out from the pressure of her footsteps as she walked. A joint tucked between her fingers and a small basket over her arm. She brought it up to her lips, taking a slow drag before blowing the smoke out into the night. A light breeze tugged at the skirt she was wearing, making it billow around her legs while her hair blew back from her face. There was no one on the beach that she could see and so she didn't bother to keep looking. Instead focusing on finding a spot to settle for a moment of rest.
After walking a little further from the din of the city, Maeve finally came to a stop, setting her basket down. She brought the joint back to her lips, holding it tightly between them as she spread out a small blanket big enough for two to sit on comfortably. Maeve lowered herself onto it, laying on her back as she stared up at the stars in quiet contemplation.
Sam had told Zeph he'd come back to Torchline after Longnight, and he had wanted to as well; nothing felt quite so appealing as the soft sands and waves of the beach after a week of monsters in the Grounds. He'd been right, of course; their mission had gone pretty terribly. No one was dead, but it was hardly a victory. Still, with no one to be smug to, he just left quietly and went to be by himself for a while.
Avoiding the part of the beach where he'd last seen James, he walked in the dusk. There usually weren't many people around at this sort of time, and he was surprised to see someone ahead of him on the beach, sat on a blanket. Another Ascended, maybe? Most people would be there when it was sunny and bright, and yet she seemed very comfortable in the dark. Sam hadn't seen her in the Grounds, but the Voice was recruiting new people every day.
After a moment of the usual internal battle (oh Gods why do I ever try to approach anyone, she'll just think I'm weird, but if I don't I'll never meet anyone new--), He took some hesitant steps towards her. "Hello, um, it's quite late. I'm not used to seeing anyone here at this time." Perhaps in any other situation, being approached by a man in the dark alone might be frightening, but Sam with his stooped, unsure posture and nervous pushing back of his hair was clearly not going to be giving Maeve any problems.
You learn somehow to like the dark, even love the doubt
Company was unexpected, but not unwelcome. Her eyes shifted from the rolling waves, watching foam bubble on the shore as the horizon ate the sun, to the approaching stranger. She took another drag, lowering the blunt and blowing out the milky white smoke to be swept away with the ocean breeze leaving nothing but the smell of salt in its wake. "Can't say I am either, love," a soft laugh tacked on to the end of her sentence as she let her eyes run over him for a moment, finding nothing about him exactly threatening.
She motioned to the spot beside her lazily, "You're welcome to join me if you're so inclined. Unless you would prefer to be alone. In which case, tell me to fuck off." Her smile was easy, flashing a bit of teeth as she leaned back on her elbow, letting it support her weight. She didn't have any fangs or any other telling marks. Nothing to say what she was or wasn't.
"..I suppose not." Sam accepted, rocking back on his heels a little. He'd been in an odd place lately; on the one hand he'd found he could lead better than he'd ever thought, that he was right about things he'd been scared out of sharing his opinion on, that his voice was worth something...and on the other, he still had to beat down butterflies in his stomach whenever he had to talk to someone new. Why couldn't his brain just be simple?
He hesitated when she offered the spot next to her, but this woman seemed nice and he could use any friends he could get. And, as he had to remind himself over and over, he was strong enough nowadays to deal with any trouble that could arise. "Alright, thank you."
Sitting down and drawing his knees up to lean on them as he looked out at the ocean, Sam was briefly struck by a thought; he wondered how many times he'd been here looking out at the waves now, with how many different people, with how many crises on his mind. Probably too many to count, and none of them any good to get caught up on in the present moment. "I'm Samuel Wordsworth. I um...I used to live here, actually, for a while, but now I live in the Grounds. Do you live here?" He asked, not recognising her, though he had hardly been the most sociable person.
You learn somehow to like the dark, even love the doubt
He seemed so stiff. So unsure. Reminding her of some kind of prey animal determining if she really wasn't a threat or if it would be better to bolt. In the end he must have decided she wasn't because he finally moved to sit beside her. Maeve offered out the blunt she was currently smoking, eyes moving over to him as she studied his profile. The pounding in her head was finally starting to stop and she could think somewhat clearly even with the high clouding her mind. Stupid vines. Stupid rock.
"Wordsworth? Can't say I've heard of the name... Not that I often deal in last names." Most of her affairs tend to be done with first names or no names at all. Still, she decided she liked the sound of it and no one with a name like Wordsworth could really be all that dangerous, could they? "Maeve Ansel... I do. Have been here for about six years? So the Grounds... Are you an Ascended too then? Been running into a lot of those lately." So many Ascended and Abandoned and everything in between. Didn't mean much to her, but everyone else seemed concerned. So sometimes she asked.
Maeve shifted on the blanket, eyes finding the horizon again as she let her thoughts drift for a moment. The world really was going to shit. Maybe it was time to start thinking where she fit in it all. Not that she wanted to. The squabbles of gods were of no concern to her. At least, that's what she told herself. "What is it you do, Samuel? Sam? Which do you prefer?"
Sam stared at the blunt for a moment before he realised it was being offered to him, at which point he shook his head and awkwardly laughed; even if it would do anything to him, he wouldn't have wanted it. Never having drunk or had any drugs, he found the whole thing to be quite frightening.
"Oh, well...my family have been in the Grounds for a long time." Given the barrier, and the Grounds general dull appeal compared to Torchline, Sam wasn't surprised to hear that she hadn't heard of them. "It's...just me and my sister now, though, and I haven't seen her in a long time." He chewed at his lip; with everything going on, he hadn't thought of Evie in a while. When someone disappeared in Caido, it was rarely good news when they were found. In some ways, it might stay easier if she didn't reappear, and he could pretend she was off somewhere getting herbs for her potions.
Maeve was a nice name and he smiled as she gave it, looking over and thinking it suited her. "Six years? I'd ask if you were an Outlander, but...that's too long for an Outlander to have been here." Unless she was some kind of special case he hadn't known about, an early attempt of the Voices to bring over help. "I am Ascended, yes....though I'm not really...popular with most of them." Sam added, not wanting her to join him in her mind to other members of the 'family'.
The water glittered before them and Sam too was quite content to watch it flow back and forth for a while, until he was spoken to again. "Sam is fine, and um, I make books. And copy old ones, to preserve them. I've been doing that for...over ten years, now." Gods, that made him feel old. "What do you do?"
You learn somehow to like the dark, even love the doubt
03-03-2021, 08:39 PM (This post was last modified: 03-04-2021, 03:48 PM by Maeve.)
I don't trust nobody
When he didn't take it she shrugged, figuring it was an Ascended thing. Instead she brought it back to her lips, letting the herbs work their magic and soothe her aching body. Maeve hummed softly as he started to talk, sitting up to wrap her own arm around her knees, letting her cheek lay against her forearm as she gazed over at him. He had a nice face. Kind eyes.
"That happens, it seems... I haven't seen my family in a while either." Not that she actually cared to. She was the one who left all those years ago. Her family could be dead and she wouldn't shed a tear. Why would she? Her mother abandoned her before she could even walk and her father was a no good drunk who was too fucked up with his own issues to bother feeding her most days. She hoped Mort claimed both of them at this point.
He had a nice voice. Soft and soothing. Fitting for him. Especially since it sounded like he could read bedtime stories for a living. Maeve lips quirked into an easy smile, "Not an Outlander. Just not native to Torchline. Actually born in Stormbreak, you see. Left there pretty young." It was a lie. She was native to Torchline, but he didn't really need to know that. Her brow arched and she looked at him for a moment, finding it odd he felt the need to tack that little bit on. "I don't care too much either way, love. Ascended, Abandoned, Accepted and everything else... All just words as far as I'm concerned." Adam was an Ascended too and didn't act like it meant anything. She was sure she met others. To her the gods were nothing.
Maeve straightened up for a moment, lifting her head, "I love books... Poetry... I wish I had more. Not that I couldn't get some, I guess. Just.. not a lot of readers in Torchline." Her costumers didn't bring her books. Maybe she should ask for some next time and get herself a collection of them. "I work at the Halenani. As a courtesan or whore as most people say. The other word is just prettier."
"Oh, I'm sorry. I...never really got along with mine, so it wasn't that hard, but...I know that isn't the case for everyone." Sam said quietly, not sure how to ask if she had quite so much familial drama as he had. He'd never really missed his parents after their deaths; Evie was a confusing spot in his heart.
Gods, he didn't get along with his birth family or his Ascended one. Sam wondered if he sounded like a difficult person...maybe he was a difficult person. That thought sat uncomfortably in his head as he tried to tune back into the conversation and act at least semi-confident in himself, enough to speak with a stranger. "Oh, Stormbreak..I've never been, but um, I don't get the impression I should."
It was probably unfair to assume that the entire city was like the Order, but that was all Sam knew of Stormbreak. At least Maeve herself seemed accepting enough, saying she didn't mind. "I wish more people felt that way." He was so, so tired of discourse around the various races and their relationships with the Gods.
"I could bring you some books, or you could visit my store." Sam offered immediately, always eager to find more people enthusiastic about his work and the history of their world (whether that was non-fictional, factual accounts or myths and legends).
As for her work...well, all he could do was nod and look off to the waves hurriedly; if he had blood, his cheeks would have been bright red. "Oh. Alright. Um. I see."
You learn somehow to like the dark, even love the doubt
"Don't be. They aren't worth being upset over," Maeve waves him off, bringing the blunt back up to her lips and inhaling deeply. She blows the smoke out slowly, savoring the slight burn at the back of her throat. "I don't miss them and I'm sure you don't have reason to miss yours." He's being honest and she's craving honesty. Maybe because it's lacking in some other places in her life. Her mind shifts back to the other night and she takes another long draw from the blunt which is quickly burning down to the filter.
They both were lost in their thoughts for a moment, eyes trained on the waves that lapped at the sand, but Sam once more broke the silence. Maeve made a soft sound of acknowledgement, snuffing out her smoke and wrapping both arms around her knees. "Don't bother. Nothing good about that place if I'm being honest." She hasn't been. Doesn't plan on it either. They worship the gods with such devotion there and Maeve wanted absolutely nothing to do with that.
Her eyes find him in the fading light, the horizon finally claiming the sun and the last light of the day. Maeve licked her lips, the corners tugging into a faint smile, "I never understood why people hang so much on those things. Has always seemed stupid to define someone's worth based on whether or not a god has shown them favor. New.. old.. what does it matter? Most of them just end up being disappointing." She knew that it was possibly unwise to speak so candidly, but she was growing tired of lying. Of pretending that everything in this world was well and good. That the gods actually cared. The façade was tiresome even on the best of days. Which today was not.
The offer to bring her some new books earned Sam a genuine smile. One that lit up her whole face and made her nose wrinkle. When was the last time someone gave her something without the expectation of getting her in return? She couldn't even remember. "I'd like that... Where is your shop? Maybe I'll make the trip at some point..." Maybe getting out of Torchline for a bit wouldn't be a bad thing. Maybe she needed some space. Some room to breathe.
His reaction wasn't surprising and she laughed softly, the sound lost in the crashing of the waves, "I know.. It's an awkward point of conversation. It keeps me fed and housed. So I can't really complain. There are worse things I could be doing."
Well. That was certainly frank, and Sam found himself smiling at it. He was so used to people insisting he had to love his family simply because of who they were, never mind what they did. "Yeah. My um...my dad, was very disappointed in me. They kicked me out at 16, when Ascending didn't make me any better." He sighed and hugged his knees reflexively, but time was working on those wounds and they didn't open up the same pain as they once did.
He just nodded about Stormbreak; he didn't have much of a choice, but even if he did, he doubted it would be high on his list of places to visit.
"Yes, you're right. I've had..so many relationships fall apart because of the Gods, now." He looked down to the sand, pushed little lines into it with his fingertip. "My half-sister, someone I once loved...even the Voice herself. It's...I wish we could just find a way to get along and move forwards, instead of constantly fighting." Sam was just an anxiety-ridden, shy voice in the flood of hate and war, though. How could he hope to change anything?
It was nice to see Maeve's cool and calm persona change to a true smile for a moment and Sam reflected it in his own face. "Oh, um, it's in the Settlement in the Grounds. It has a big sign on it, Wordsworth Books. It's...it was damaged, in the fires over Longnight, but..." He shrugged, trying to pretend he wasn't too bothered by the thought. "I'm sure I can repair it by the time you come to visit."
Maeve pointing out the conversation was awkward was appreciated, but before Sam could stop himself he was shaking his head and rambling. "No, no, it's fine - I mean, there's no - I don't judge you or anything, I just don't do much of that sort of stuff myself. You know. Se..night time stuff." Now thoroughly embarrassed (he'd said sex before. What the hell was 'night time stuff'?) he put a hand over his hand and leaned back on his knees, hoping she'd forgive that outburst.
You learn somehow to like the dark, even love the doubt
Maeve let her eyes drift over to him, sympathy seeming to color her green irises as she studied his profile. This was something she could understand. Something she related to. Never being enough. Never being wanted. "My mother left when I was three and my father barely left the bottle enough to remember I existed. I left home at fifteen. There isn't anything wrong with not loving your family. I definitely don't. What have they ever done for me? Fuck the people in your life who don't give a fuck about you." She sighed heavily, digging her toes into the sand that was still warm from the sun.
She felt for him. Truly. To have your life ruined by the Gods. Loved ones taken away. Relationships wrecked because the Gods were fickle and unable to resist the urge to pull in mere mortals to do their work for them. She hated them. So fucking much. "The Gods can't help meddling... and I want nothing to do with them. I'm sorry, though. It isn't fair to any of us getting swept up in their shit."
The Grounds. Maybe it would be good to visit there when she wasn't dragging herself out of the swamp covered in tar for days. Maeve hummed softly, "I'm sorry to hear that. I'll come though. I can write to you so you can prepare. If that's alright. Can make me a mini collection to take home." She laughed softly, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. It was a nice thought. Having a friend to go see. Someone expecting her.
Maeve grinned, straightening up and leaning against him to bump his shoulder, "Oh you sweet thing. I don't think you're judging me." The laugh he earned was full bellied and she thought it was adorable. The way he stuttered around the subject of sex. "Night time stuff, huh? Is that what the kids are calling sex these days?"
In some ways, while it was probably wrong to feel this way, Sam liked to hear about other people having difficult relationships with their parents. It reminded him that he wasn't a lone freak because of it, that he hadn't failed in something everyone else could succeed in. "I appreciate your honesty. You're right, of course. I just find it hard to detach myself like that." He'd always felt ties keenly, long after people had been treating him like shit for years.
Again, she was right when it came to the Gods. Sam had often wished he had the blunt kind of way of saying things so many people did, the ability to just say 'fuck them' and be done with it. For the time being, he just nodded, knowing if he commented on it he'd just start rambling again.
"Absolutely! What do you like to read about? I have books on all sorts. I'm partial to history, but there's books about the plants here, science, some cultural things...I've been expanding our Halo collection. Oh, and we have fiction too. Old myths or adventure stories, or-" He laughed, a little embarrassed. "-Quite a few romance novels, because they're always popular."
Shaking his head, Sam rubbed his face. "No, and I don't know why...I've had sex, and I didn't call it 'night time stuff' then. Sometimes I just...get so embarrassed. I don't know why. I'm sure you've had a lot of conversations about it." He actually had quite a lot of questions, but didn't know how to dive into those, so instead chose: "Is there anything else you'd like to do eventually?"
You learn somehow to like the dark, even love the doubt
03-08-2021, 07:58 PM (This post was last modified: 03-13-2021, 05:00 PM by Maeve.)
I don't trust nobody
Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug, "Some people have an easier time with others. There isn't a right or wrong way to do it." Maeve said softly, reaching up to push a hand through her shorter locks, displacing the curls even further. Her ability to sweeten her words into something more palatable was no where in sight tonight. She didn't have it in her to pretend right now. To soften herself for the world around her.
Sam, to his credit, didn't seem bothered by it. If anything he seemed to appreciate her bluntness. Her willingness to call out the gods and others who had wronged her in the last few days, weeks, years. She was grateful for it.
When he began to speak about books it was like drawing the curtains open in a dark room. He lit up from the inside and she couldn't help watching him with a fondness in her eyes. To see someone so passionate was a treat and she was happy she was here to witness it. "I do like to study plants in my spare time. So anything about botany or propagating or even using them medicinally would be wonderful. I enjoy poetry, fiction, and romance. Despite my line of work, I am a bit of a romantic at heart." Maeve felt her cheeks flush and she smiled softly at her own silliness for feeling embarrassed about it.
She found the ring on her finger, carefully fidgeting with it as her mind flashed back to Aurelia and their kiss. To Locke and their triste. How neither of them really worked out the way she thought they might. Not that she had expectations for one of them, but still. They come to her like the waves come to the shore and she's quiet for a moment as she reflected on the tangled mess of feelings in her chest.
"That's alright. It isn't something people talk about easily at times. Nothing wrong with it. Just a big part of my life and at this point I just accept it for what it is. As for what I would do... I haven't given it a lot of thought. I've been working in brothels since I was sixteen. I'm not sure what else I would even do."
Sam assumed, potentially incorrectly, that Maeve had to have an easy time of things. She was beautiful, seemed to move like she had confidence even in her defeated mood; he'd often wondered what it was other people had that he didn't that made them cool and while he hadn't come to a conclusion, Sam could tell she had it.
"Oh, we have a lot for medicine. Isla's been borrowing some lately, but she'll be done soon - she's our doctor." He added, unsure how familiar Maeve was with the faces in the Grounds. "I'd have to look a little harder for instructions on how to grow them, but we must have some. We have collections of journals, you see, from all kinds of people." Sam's smile grew as he thought of the dusty leatherbound diaries, trash to some but endless days of interest to him. "Adventurers, historians, merchants...there has to be a gardener in there somewhere."
Certainly a romantic himself, Sam already had a selection in mind to bring her. Some of his own favourites as well as the classics. "I am too. Unfortunately, it never seems to work out in real life like it does in novels." There, in the easy world of fiction, disagreements led to tension-fueled kisses and love confessions; in reality they just caused heartache.
He'd been doing the same thing since he was 16 too, though admittedly a very different profession. Still, Sam knew what it was like to be in a comfortable rut and not know where else you would go. "I...I've always wondered, do you see Ascended in places like that?"
You learn somehow to like the dark, even love the doubt
