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!
A flash of light. Panic. The judgmental eyes of her travelling companion and the way he sneered at every word she said. Him leaving her as soon as they got out of the swamp. All of it still swirls in her brain despite the fact that she made it home safely. She didn't suffer much. A hit to the head, a few days of fear, but she made it back with little harm done. Except for her hair.
Maeve sits at the small vanity in her room, staring at the ruined strands. The tar tuck to her long tresses and seemed impossible to wash out no matter what she did. She was going to have to cut it. Hence why she's not working tonight. She isn't supposed to be anyway. Except there is someone knocking at her door and she really can't do this. Maeve stands, moving towards the door and opening it a crack.
One of the other girls is waiting for her on the other side and suddenly telling her that a gentleman by the name of Locke is here to see her. She doesn't even have it in her to tell her to send him away. Instead she just sighs, "Send him up..." Maeve moves back over to her vanity, settling on the stool once more to stare at her reflection in the mirror.
Poor little girl still waiting for her happy ending
Didn't he say he wasn't coming back here? And yet here he is. He's not entirely sure why he's here but. He made a deal with her and although he doesn't usually keep them, maybe he will this time. He lightly touches his pocket before pushing the door open. The lady at the front tells him that Maeve isn't working tonight, which is.. worrying but she does probably have days off. "Can you just let her know I'm here? If she doesn't want to see me, that's fine. I'll come back later."
He's fully expecting her to send him away so he's surprised when she doesn't. The girl leads him to her room, pushing the door open for him. He spots her at the vanity and enters slowly. "Hey.. Here to uphold my end of the bargain." His voice is soft as he approaches her. He doesn't notice her hair right away, instead focusing on the wound on her head. It looks bad but it's cleaned up at least. Doesn't stop him from peeking around to look at it.
Locke leans back, reaching in his pocket and pulling out a silver choker. There's black stones embedded in it in the shapes of tiny moons and stars. He holds it out to her, "This enough to buy your time?" It was a bitch to get but still. It's worth a fair amount.
Her shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath that she uses to try and summon some of her usual spark. She can't find it. She's just too tired. His voice is soft. Like he's afraid he might spook her if he speaks too loudly. Maeve turns to look up at him, dark circles under her eyes and face free of makeup. Her smile is wane and doesn't reach her eyes. "Hey..."
Maeve's eyes dip down to the trinket and it's absolutely too much. He just bought a whole day and he probably doesn't even realize it. "Oh wow... It's beautiful." She murmurs, reaching out to run a finger along one of the stones before taking it from him. "It's more than enough.." Maeve swallows thickly, suddenly very aware that it isn't a fair trade. Not given what he put in place.
Her throat feels tight and she wants to cry, but she swallows it down. "So.. What would you like? Can afford anything with something like that.."
Poor little girl still waiting for her happy ending
She's clearly not having a good time. He feels bad, honestly, like he shouldn't be here. He loves taking advantage of idiots but she's just having a hard time. Feels wrong. Then again, she could've turned him away, right? If she wanted to. "Can leave if you want." He's almost scared to say it, like she'll actually make him leave. But she takes the choker, looking it over.
"Told you before. I wanted uh.. You know. For you to decide what we do. That was part of the deal." Maybe he's goading her a little bit into relaxing or maybe just doing what she wants instead of what some dude is telling her to do. Then again.. He's kind of the dude telling her what to do. He runs his hand over his arm before threading his fingers through his hair. He's nervous again. He's well aware the choker is probably a bit much but it was what he found. Plus, he thinks it would look good on her.
The corner of his mouth twitches when he notices her hair. Oh shit. "Fuck Maeve, what happened?" He's well aware he can call her Kitten now but it seems.. Wrong? All of this feels wrong.
Can leave if you want. The thing is she doesn't want to be alone. Not really. She felt like she was alone for those days she was travelling with the way Rigby ignored her. It was all just too much. Right, their deal. That was what all of this was about. Her cheeks go hot and she ducks her head, eyes blurring with tears. She's not going to cry, damn it! Maeve draws in a breath, shaking her head as she tries to find the words. "I don't want to be alone... I don't want you to leave."
The words finally leave her. Hushed and no more than a watery whisper as she looks up at him when he asks the question. What happened? It sounds like he cares and for a moment she's going to pretend he does. That this isn't just some little game. That she's not another flavor of favor to be enjoyed tonight.
"I, uhm, I went into the Wilds at the beginning of Flowerbirth. Up to Wishtide... There is this mud that we get there for facemasks. I make them for the girls as a treat. Maeve pauses, fingers twisting in the loose robe she's wearing as she remembers what happened. "I was up there and there was this boy.. He fell in the stream because of the vines and I was going to help him, but then they tripped me too. I fell in and hit my head. He came over to help me and when he touched me..." Her words trail off and she takes another shaky breath, eyes squeezing shut as that residual fear runs through her.
"When he touched me we transported. Into a tar pit. I- I was sinking and couldn't get out and he just- just ignored me! I thought I was going to die and.. and finally he helped me, but we were lost for days before we made it to a portal and got back here." Maeve looks up at him, cheeks red and eyes swimming with tears that wouldn't fall just yet.
Poor little girl still waiting for her happy ending
He doesn't know how to handle this, how to handle her. Everything about her sends up a million red flags in his system but he just nods, "Won't leave. Don't worry." She wants him to stay, so he will. Hazel eyes dart around the room for a moment before he spots a stool in the corner. He grabs it, sliding it over to her and perching himself on it as she starts to talk. Honestly? Sounds like hell.
Carefully, he reaches a hand out, lightly brushing against her cheek before giving it a little pat. "Well. At least you lived, yeah? Still here." Wow. You are so great at comforting people. Good job Locke. He pulls his hand back and folds it into his lap. He can tell she's trying not to cry and that makes him feel weird. She should just cry if she needs to. Right?
"Uh. Do you.. wanna lay on the bed or something.. Should probably rest."
She wasn't sure what she was expecting his response to be. This isn't what he came here for. Clearly. Except this is what's happening. Maeve almost leans into his touch, but it's gone before she even has a chance to really feel it. It's not harsh. The way he speaks. Just honest. Maeve nods slowly, sniffling softly as she looks at him. "I-" She does want to lay down, but the whole reason she was sitting her was to deal with her hair.
"I need help with my hair... I tried to get it clean, but I couldn't and-" her voice breaks here and she knows she looks weak. She hates it, but there is nothing to be done. "I have to cut it and I don't know how..."
Poor little girl still waiting for her happy ending
He sits there for a moment, mulling her over, mulling the whole thing over. There's a pair of hair scissors sitting on the vanity and he looks at her again. "I can cut it." It's been a minute but he knows how. After all, he cut all of his siblings' hair and he cuts his own too. Locke stands up slowly, making his way over the side of the vanity and picking the scissors up slowly. "Think you'd look cute with short hair. Would uh.. frame your face nicely or something. And it'll grow back. Think my sister said it's good to cut your hair sometimes. Healthy or something." He doesn't know whats fashionable but he can at least get the bulk of the tar out.
"If you want. Of course." It does look pretty bad. But it will surely feel better once he's got it cut, right? And if he does something kind of simple, it won't look bad, right? She can always get it cleaned up professionally. "Girls won't think it's weird I hope.. Are there guys with hair cutting fetishes.."
She's never cut her hair. Not since she could make the decision herself not to. Maeve licks her lips, sniffling again as she straightens up a bit more. Her shoulders square and she lifts her chin, trying to put on a brave face. It's shallow. The fact that she ties so much of her beauty to her hair. Except when your whole job is based on sex appeal it matters. Her clients love her hair as much as she does.
He's trying to make it better and she appreciates it. Truly. His last comment earns him a watery laugh and she wipes at her eyes, "Probably... It's fine. They won't say anything." Maeve chews on her bottom lip, meeting his eyes in the reflection of the mirror. "Guess I'll owe you again, huh?" It's meant to be a joke. Just a tease. She's not upset about it. About owing him. There are worse things in the world.
Poor little girl still waiting for her happy ending
He makes a little noise, moving behind her because she's basically said it's okay, right? "Guess so. Don't know what I'll have you do. Maybe just keep it on the back burner." He probably won't cash it in. This feels less like a favor and more like.. He's not sure. It's nice to be taking care of someone rather than robbing them though. He picks up her brush, and starts to work through what he can of the ends. He goes slowly, taking his time to be gentle.
It's like brushing his little sisters' hair again except they didn't usually have tar stuck in their hair. It's a mostly soothing action as he works out what he can of the tangles. Once he's satisfied, he leans over her shoulder, looking at her through the mirror, "Last chance to stop me." He wants her to say it, clearly. More than just resignation. "Can always go to a proper barber.. Not sure who is open with the monsoons but m'sure you could find someone."
This is different than anything she's ever done. It doesn't feel like working. It doesn't feel like he's here just for her body. It feels like something more and less all at the same time. He's careful with her, taking his time brushing what he can and getting it ready to cut. He's taking care of her and it shouldn't make her heart clench, but it does.
His hands curl at her shoulders as he leans over her, meeting her gaze and giving her one last chance to back out. She takes a deep breath, "Cut it.." Maeve says softly, fingers twisting in her lap as she waits for him to make the first cut.
Poor little girl still waiting for her happy ending
He gives her a little nod before taking the biggest chunk and just.. chopping it off. No turning back now Maeve, you have to wait until he's done. He focuses on her hair rather than looking at her because he's not sure he can. He gets that the way you look is important in this kind of work. He hopes he doesn't fuck it up. He starts with the worst of the tar, cutting it out before working on smaller bits, and then finally, cleaning it up.
When he steps back, he tilts his head to one side, looking at her in the mirror with just the faintest hint of a grin. "Not to bad for an amateur if I do say so myself." It's short but not boyish. It frames her face well enough and he'd be lying if he didn't kind of like it. He leans over her again, putting the scissors down and picking up the brush again. He runs it through her hair, making sure he got it all out. When he's content, he puts the brush away, noting how her hair has just a hint of a curl to it.
He lifts the biggest clump and she can feel the weight of it. Her eyes squeeze shut and her breath catches in her throat as the scissors press against the ruined strands. The first cut is the hardest and suddenly the scissors shear through it. The strands fall to the floor and her tears finally fall with it. She doesn't sob like she did in the swamp while Rigby stared after her in judgment. Her shoulders don't shake and no sound leaves her save for a few sniffles. No, the tears slip silently down her cheeks while he cuts away at the tar.
By the end of it her hair is lighter than its ever been and the tears have stopped. Maeve wipes at her eyes, one last sniffle leaving her as she meets his eyes as he brushes her hair one last time. "It's... different. Don't even feel like I recognize myself." She admits softly, reaching up to tentatively touch one of the slowly forming curls. Funny. Her hair hasn't curled since she was a child.
She turns to face him, bottom lip back between her teeth as she meets his eyes, "Do... Do you like it?" Maeve asks, uncertainty lacing through her words as her cheeks flush.
Poor little girl still waiting for her happy ending
He raises an eyebrow at her, looking down at her as she meets his gaze. "Would be lying if I said no." It's the closest thing to a yes she's going to get. He smooths his hand over the top of her head before stepping back to clean up the hair on the floor. He's thinking, about what to do next, about how he feels. Cleaning focuses him but he's done all too quickly, dumping the last of the hair in the bin before turning back to her.
"Now what? Can lay down and talk if you want. Or just rest. You should rest. Do you want tea? I can make tea." He's getting nervous. Words aren't his strong suit and he's talking again. But she was just crying and he just cut all of her hair off and things are too intimate and-- He inhales slowly before exhaling. It's fine. They're just.. whatever they are. Friends? Maybe. But nothing more than that
