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!
03-07-2021, 07:07 PM (This post was last modified: 03-10-2021, 03:59 AM by Rigby.)
RIGBY
Flowerbirth had been very interesting so far, with impromptu voyages across swamps and plains and scorched grounds, only to come back to Torchline. This place he knew, this place he felt comfortable. He had no plans of leaving again anytime soon, the Oerwoud left alone until further notice, an explanation from someone who cared a fuck of a lot more than he did.
And so he found himself loitering underneath the lighthouse, leaned up against it in the dark of night. Spitefully he finished a cigarette and smeared the ash across the pale stone of the monument, a little desecration here and there.
i'll make you understand and you can trade me for an apparition
Honestly, the lighthouse is the last place Nate wants to go at all. But he’s had this urge, this impossible to ignore need to go up the cliffs, and stare at the ocean. Maybe it’ll be cathartic, in some way. Maybe it’ll make him feel better, wipe away some of the swirling memories in his head. Passing the lighthouse is just a means to an end.
And apparently, a bigger obstacle that Nate had been anticipating, due largely to the tall pain in his ass leaning a giant the whitewashed stones. He stops, for a long minute, his face set in an immobile twist of irritation.
”The fuck are you doing here, brat?” Nate finally manages, his voice rough and low.
Rigby turned his head at the voice, the annoyingly familiar voice. The other man looked considerably better from the last time Rigby had seen him, no muzzle this time at least. The boy smirked, returning the smoke to his mouth as he offered his devilish grin. Any chance to piss of the asshole was one he'd take.
"I thought you were dead or something," he replied sharply, returning his gaze to the ocean in a gesture of, i'm not going nowhere.
i'll make you understand and you can trade me for an apparition
Nate steps close, not really giving a fuck if there’s complaints or not when he reaches out to snatch the cigarette from Rigby’s mouth. ”Thanks.” Comes the rumble as he leans back again, taking a single long drag and reducing the entire smoke to ash.
”I can’t die.” Nate snaps, his lips pulled into a snarl around the words. ”Maybe you should stop listening to stupid rumours, huh?” Truthfully, Nate could give a shit what Rigby is doing. The little rat could topple the lighthouse into the ocean and he’d stand by and watch it happen.
But he needs something to lash out at, and hey, looks who’s made himself a perfect target.
Rigby is at least used to this part, the part when Nate sucks the fun out of everything like a tall buff vacuum. He didn't put up much fight when Nate reached for his cigarette, instead he just glared at the other man, almost challenging but also not. It was infuriating to see the roll go to waste, but he'd weasel a replacement into his hands soon, never going anywhere without a little relief at his side.
Can't die? That's not what he'd heard, but it was interesting enough. He turned his head to look at Nate again, brows narrowed, "You were nicer with a muzzle." He had definitely made himself a good target, it was what he did best.
i'll make you understand and you can trade me for an apparition
This has to be a talent. What else could possibly explain the sheer skill the kid had for getting under his skin? This time though, Nate is in a far less forgiving mood, which is saying something, his hand coming out to pin Rigby’s shoulder against the lighthouse. ”You’ll find out exactly why I had it on if you don’t watch your shitty little mouth.” Nate snarls, leaning in so closely his nose very nearly brushes against the urchins.
”You think taking your shitty mood out on everyone else is gonna make you feel better?” Nate cocks his head, teeth bared in a sneer and his eyes burning. Somehow, he’s slipped dangerously close to calling the kettle black, but if anything that just gives him more expertise on the specific brand of asshole he thinks the kid is.
It is a talent Nate, and you know what they say about talent. Not to waste it or something like that. Rigby smirks as the hand shoves against his shoulder, even as it draws a cough from his chest. He eyes Nate carefully as the man leans forward, close and threatening but maybe not threatening enough to wipe the sneer off Rigby's face.
"I'm in a good mood," he replied, shrugging as best he could with the current situation. He then made to duck, hoping to slip out of Nates grasp and lean once again but free of constraint. "I was here first anyway," he grumbled, matter of fact, as though this was something Nate should consider when choosing his haunts.
i'll make you understand and you can trade me for an apparition
Nate makes next to no effort to actually hold Rigby, the kid slipping out of his grip easily.”So you’re just getting off on being a prick then.” It’s very clearly not a question, Nate shifting back on his heels and sighing. Even he hadn’t been such a dick (lies), which is saying something.
Mismatched eyes flick up the whitewashed lighthouse, squinting against the light at the top of it before dropping again. ”What, you here to pray to Safrin?” He drags the goddess’ name through his sneer like he’s trying to soil it. A spark like a match being struck flares on his tongue, a hiss leaving Nate as his hand rises to rub at his mouth. ”You don’t seem the type.”
A raise of his eyebrows, an infuriating nod. "Yeah," he answered, he most definitely did get off on being an asshole. It was fun, and a much better use of his precious time than being polite. If he'd been nice to every fuck he met on the street, he'd probably be doing honest work or something, or stuck worrying about a friend. This was much better, being a dick.
He settled back in against the stained stone of the lighthouse, glancing at Nate as the other looked up to the light above. The notion of Rigby praying pulled the smirk from his lips, a darkness hitting his brows. He didn't miss the seething as Nate utters the name, as though it physically hurt to say her name. Honestly, relatable. "I'm not," he adds, to make sure it's known. He wants any gods listening above to look down and frown at this 'troubled youth', once he had their attention he could tell em to suck a fat one.
i'll make you understand and you can trade me for an apparition
Oh, he seems to have struck a nerve. Irritation smears clearly across Rigby's face. And Nate is delighted to sink his fingers into this newest crack, to prod and pull more irritation from the kid. Squirm fucker. "No?" Nate huffs out a short laugh, rolling his eyes and looking away from Rigby. "Why not? I'm sure Safrin would love you." His body tenses, some deep part of him aware of the repercussions before his mind has caught on. "Bitches gotta stick together."
Flaming pitch follows the words like vomit, a burn that starts at his lips and spreads quickly over him in a wave of flame and panic. And panic Nate does, stepping away from Rigby to beat at himself, putting out the fire before it has a chance to spread, or worse, sink its claws into his flammable self. No matter how aloof he tries to appear, the magic shakes him. Wild-eyed fear is stark on Nate's face, in the slight tremble of his hands as he tries to recover, pushing his hair back up out of his face and straightening.
His jaw works, Nate trying and failing to find something to say, some explanation, some curse, as if it's Rigby's fault instead of his own.
A look of disgust crosses Rigby's face, not only at the insinuation that he would like Safrin, but at the haughty laugh the other gives. Fuck off, was his usual comeback when he was abashed, unamused and irritated. But this time he just bristled, his glare stuck to Nate and the stupid scar across his face. Whether or not he would decide to say something, wasn't important, moments later Nate was writhing in a wave of heat.
Rigby's eyes widened as he watched the man struggle with the flames, the fear in his eyes somewhat satisfying. What perfect fuel for the hellstorm Rigby was about to unleash, he sunk further into his slouch against the lighthouse and tsked, "Ouch."
"You've got a little something..." Rigby gestured to his own shoulder as an indication, but there wasn't really any more fire. He just wanted to see the man jump again, you're turn fucker.
i'll make you understand and you can trade me for an apparition
If nothing else, the momentary fire is a crack in a shield Nate has tried very hard to keep up around the street rat. It’s weakness, plain and simple. A weakness that Rigby now knows. ”Least i can’t fucking fee it, huh?” His arms open wide, inviting more shit onto him. Why not, at this point?
”Fuck off.” All the venom in his voice doesn’t stop Nate from actually glancing towards his shoulder though, ensuring he hasn’t left something smouldering. ”This is fucking because of her.” It’s a complaint made to no one who would listen (Rigby, in this case) but still one he wants to snarl out.
There's one of those rare genuine Rigby smiles when Nate actually looks, his venomous "fuck off" is simply laughed off. Toothy and dimpled, it's almost like something funny has been said, innocent and friendly, and not at someone else's expense. But those kind jokes aren't that funny to Rigby, it's the ironic ones that make him feel that lovely vengeful joy.
He was just a little curious as Nate mentions her, who Rigby assumes is Safrin. He could respect being cursed for pissing off the gods, maybe the only respect Nate would get from him. "What'd you do, other than exist?" he asked, watching the other's face, his scowls and frustration.
i'll make you understand and you can trade me for an apparition
”What, you think there needs to be more reason than that?” Nate rolls his eyes and spits, his nose wrinkling. ”Fuck, I almost thought you were clever.” He was ascended, she was an old god. Could it be any more obvious?
Of course, he hadn’t done himself a single favour, had welched (technically) on a deal when he’d already known he had no ground to stand on, had pointed a target on his back and then waltzed up on a silver platter. None of that mattered anyway. Safrin would have found a way to fuck with him no matter what, he was sure.
With a sullen sigh, Nate fishes a pack of smokes from his pocket, a box of matches following as soon as he’s managed to grab one. ”She asked me to do something for her and I didn’t.” The words come out so casually, it almost seems like he could be talking about the weather.
