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!
05-04-2021, 02:39 AM (This post was last modified: 05-04-2021, 03:05 AM by Rigby.)
i'm the kind of human wreckage that you love
Longheat coming meant the Ark coming back to rest in the docks, the captain and crew dispersed back into the streets of Haulani as though they'd never left. For two such privateers, they would find their house was not in the state they'd left it. This year, they'd had a guest, and Rigby had made himself at home. He hadn't had a place to stay in far too long, perhaps that prompted him to get over comfortable.
The room that they'd offered him was a mess of trash and bags and stolen things, it was the worst of the rooms. Aurelia and Milo's rooms were left untouched for the most part, though unable to contain himself Rigby had gone in once to sift through their drawers. Just to look, though that was only decided after he'd figured out they had nothing worth taking.
Today he sat in the living room with his feet up on the table, tossing grapes up into the air and catching them in his mouth to pass the time. The sun was still up, his plans to go practice thievery weren't until dusk. The room around him was the second most obviously lived in, the dining table was covered in plates and bowls that he hadn't cleaned, his muddy boots sat on the kitchen counter, and he'd hung a satchel full of stolen goods on the rack by the front door.
and that the world is always our fault when we did nothing, how did we do wrong?
The first thing Aurelia notices is the smell. Like sweat and dirty socks and something rotten. She makes her way in through the front door and immediately pauses, her nose curling with clear disdain. Rigby... She's almost immediately angry, heading straight for the front room to find him sitting there throwing grapes. Her arms cross over her chest and she glares down at him from across the room, a single brow raising in expectancy.
But as she looks at him, it all comes flooding back - the arrow, the fuckery that was bringing him back, the fact they'd let him stay knowing what he was like... Well, she can't be too angry - or at least, not without also being angry at herself. So she lets out a snort and her arms flop down around her sides, no longer expecting anything from him. Which is probably for the best from here on out.
"I see the house treated you well while we were gone?" She asks rhetorically as she then moves to grab some of the plates from the kitchen table, a vexed edge to her tone to indicate that she's not exactly thrilled. "Glad to see you were the most dangerous thing here, not the monsoons," she supposes aloud, rather sarcastically.
Setting the plates and bowls and whatever the hell else was on the table, trying to ignore the moldy leftovers on them, she looks up from behind the kitchen counter. "I brought you something on my way here..." she admits reluctantly. Fishing into her pockets, she pulls out a box of cigarettes. She does not hand them over yet, however. No, instead she begins to pack them and makes her way back towards the front door. The satchel packed full of stuff didn't go unnoticed, and she does remember that it's his. Stopping beside it as she lights her cigarette {subtly using her own magic}, she pushes the top open to peer inside. "What poor suckers did you steal all this off of?"
and I've been thinking that when we thought the world would break us, that we weren't wrong
The opening of the door made him startle, it'd been a whole half season since anyone had come in except for him. He looked wildly her way, the grape he'd just tossed landed splat against the table. For a moment they were quiet, Rigby felt more awkward than he liked to admit. She could do anything, be angry or not, throw him out. Or not. He just waited, silently wishing he'd put his boots on the floor (as though that was the only thing that'd changed since she'd gone).
Dark eyes watched her almost cautiously as she moved to grab some dirty dishes. He wasn't done with one of them, there was still some soup residue to be licked out of the red clay bowl, but he'd let it slide for now. When she broke the silence it was relieving, Rigby smirked something close to a genuine smile. "This place is alright," he replied, relaxing back into the chair once more.
The fuck she'd gotten him a gift for? He obviously hadn't gotten her anything, unless she considered dirt and grime a present. The boy glanced her way, ratty curls hanging over his eyes as he watched her pull the pack of cigarettes from her pockets. Aww, she knew him so well. He reached out as though to take them from her, but she had other plans, changing course to his satchel by the door.
Of course, Rigby didn't want anyone going through his stuff. He was up and reaching for the bag the moment she opened it. Pulled from the hook, he started looking through it instead, as though she might've taken something in that split second. The words 'none ya' danced dangerously around his mouth, he narrowed his gaze at her and replied with a shrug, "Rich fucks, the poor suckers don't usually have anything worth taking."
and that the world is always our fault when we did nothing, how did we do wrong?
She doesn't quite step back from the bag, but her hands move away a fraction. Her lips do tighten around the cigarette, a brief physical indication of some small irritation rising up in her throat.
However, she parts her lips and steals the cigarette between two of her fingers. A gray cloud billows out towards Rigby, smelling like fresh tobacco and something sweeter, too, like it's been flavored in some way. "Was just curious. I wasn't gonna take any of it," she remarks flatly, "stealing from the thief I let into my home? That'd be so, incredibly fucking ironic, Rigby." And she huffs a snort of laughter, a crooked smile cracking across her features, which only proves to emphasize the exhaustion in them.
She perches the cigarette between her lips once more, handing over the pack she had said was his, and bends her arms over her head to heave a stretch. Joints crack and muscles quiver with the motion. "I cannot wait to actually sleep in a real bed!" She blurts out, voice strained from her movements. "Did it get lonely while we were gone?" She cracks one final joint and then lowers her hands back to her sides, gazing at Rigby intently for an answer.
and I've been thinking that when we thought the world would break us, that we weren't wrong
The puff of smoke that's sent his way is incredibly enticing. Maybe he should've buttered her up some first to secure the new pack of cigarettes. Then again, he could always pick her pocket later and hope to not get a knife in his back. He ignored her laugh and taunts with a glare, tossing his satchel on the ground next to the chair.
Graciously enough, the pack is tossed his way anyway, he took them and flipped it over. The package itself was blank, but one whiff brought forth that sweet scent he'd noticed from Aurelia's smoke. "What's in these?" he asked, but he'd already pulled one out to light it. There was always the chance that it was poisoned and she'd returned to rid her house of the vermin, but she'd had plenty a chance to kill him before, now seemed a weird time to do it.
He sat back down in the chair, leaning back precariously, long legs rocking the chair, "Eh," came his grunted reply, "how was your boat?"
05-26-2021, 07:44 AM (This post was last modified: 05-26-2021, 07:45 AM by Aurelia.)
Aurelia
and that the world is always our fault when we did nothing, how did we do wrong?
Aurelia glances down at the smoke she's puffing on absently. This is her choice of cigarette, actually - she doesn't know if Rigby will like them, but she thinks they're better. In a way, it's her attempt at being considerate. Maybe make strides towards amends, or - Gods forbid - trust. "They're sweet. Like... well, see for yourself," she shrugs her hand toward him in a gesture that seems to say 'go for it'. He'll find that the taste is sweet, though there's no underlying malevolence behind that. It's not such a strong flavor as to be off-putting; a barely-there taste of something like... a tart, maybe.
She watches him settle back into the chair and she folds her arms over her chest, contemplating the amusement she could garner with being just as vague as he is. But, she relents instead. "It was ... fine. Mowed down some encantados with the ship. Did some exploring. Got a few things. Fell out of a tree. All in all, pretty standard levels of chaos," she nods decisively.
As she goes to put away a few cluttered things into a drawer where she thinks they go, she finds a deck of cards. A clever grin tugs at her features and she holds them up so Rigby might see. "Hey," she turns back toward him anyway and brings the deck over to the table he's sitting near. "Let's play a game."
"Loser cleans up your mess," she arches a brow at him in expectation. Without bothering to wait for agreement, she begins to set up the cards.
and I've been thinking that when we thought the world would break us, that we weren't wrong
