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!
rose vines are as lovely when they wrap tight over your limbs and shatter your bones
Aurelia's a regular at the Hanged Man, ship expeditions and randomly-generated wilderness teleportation aside. It's where she goes most often to take the edge off after a long day. She enjoys it here, because she can drink and play cards and maybe run into someone she knows. It's happened before, at least.
And it's always sunset here. How fucking amazing is that? Lose track of time quick, which can screw you over. But it also takes away the pressure of a ticking clock. You don't know, you could be late to something. But when you're looking at life through the bottom of a whiskey glass, nothing seems to really matter for a little while.
She sets it down onto the bar with a small clink, licking the cold of the ice off her lips as she glances up, scanning the building to see what people are up to.
There's not too many people in here as it stands, it's neither crowded nor ghosted. Nothing interesting, all the same; just the usual run-of-the-mill. Well, except... It's Nate!
It's Nate? She jumps up from her stool and goes over to reach out and tap his arm. She's ready to be thoroughly baffled as to why he's in a bar, y'know, given he's Ascended.
"Hey, Nate! What're you doing h-" The dark hair, the piercing eyes, the broad build, but she quickly realizes this is not Nate. His eyes are softer, he's thinner, but there's some strange familiarity about him. Her lighthearted grin twists into a more embarrassed frown, and she retracts slowly, "Oh. Sorry. You look like someone I know."
Bart is definitely not a regular. Anywhere in Caido really. But where there's whiskey he's bound to be. Nate had been the one to take up smoking on a regular basis, and though alcohol still reminds him of their deadbeat dad he'd rather sacrifice his liver than his lungs. Can't fuel smartass remarks with a liver, right? It's a little strange, the inherent magic of the place, but Bart is slowly growing used to the fairytale aspects of this new place. Normally he'd bury his head in the sand a little longer - there's certainly an abundance to be found in Torchline, which must be well-used with all the smuggling he's seen - but with his twin being a literal demigod, it's pretty much a requirement to get up to speed.
So really, he's calling this homework. Delicious, burning homework.
It's not like Sunjata and Nate are lacking in the alcohol department back home, but the house is so full at times that Bart needs to escape. Direly unused to the workings of a real family and unwilling to fuck things up with his big mouth and Santa-sized sack of trauma. Plus this way he can start getting used to the faces around town. Bright sides!
Someone taps on his shoulder, and Bart spins halfway in his chair to cast his gaze over his shoulder at the dark-haired woman attached to the hand. By time her words register he's already cocking a crooked grin, one she'll note is identical to Nate's. "We shared'a womb, sure hope we look the same or our dad would have a lot more explainin' to do," drawls off his tongue in an accent thicker than the one Nate has learned to hide. Being mistaken for his twin is nothing new, so he's got plenty of premade quips up his sleeve even if they're dusty from lack of use. Nate dying midway through his life had put a cramp on the comebacks. Gesturing to the chair at his side in invitation, he taps his empty glass on the bar to signal for a refill. "I'm Bartholomew, the more handsome twin."
Lover come hold me, my head's on the fritz Gaudy intoxicated feelings comfortably mixed
rose vines are as lovely when they wrap tight over your limbs and shatter your bones
Normally, Aurelia might expect a Torchliner to bark back something irritated and harsh. Especially in the bar, where people go to escape.. not.. get found. But this one's different, he's got a lighter air about him and an explanation for why that crooked grin seems so much like Nate's. The accent sounds similar, too, though it's definitely harder to understand. Her gaze squints speculatively as she draws back her hand and takes a moment longer than normal to understand what he's saying.
"Oh!" She smiles with pleasant surprise, tilting her head and looking at him with the facts in mind, "I didn't know Nate had a twin brother." Which maybe wasn't the best thing to say.. but, as Outlanders, talking about family could be difficult. Hopefully her words don't get interpreted the wrong way.
But he gestures for her to join him in his spot at the bar and, well.. she does. It's not without some hesitance, but she does. "Bartholomew. My name's Aurelia," she pronounces his own name a bit slow, committing it to memory.
"So how come I've never met you until now?" She asks curiously, sipping at her glass once it's been filled and turning in her seat to give him her full attention.
He’s no Torcher, or whatever they’re called in this place, but admittedly she kinda caught him in a good mood. Bart fits right in with the surly and the crass most days, but the alcohol in his bloodstream and the fuck-all huge euphoria of reuniting with his once-dead brother kinda sets the mood-bar high.
“Yeah well we both kinda bit th’ dust in each other’s timelines so. Wasn’ exactly small talk material.” Fingers fan out in a ‘what can you do’ expression, grin boyish for all its sharp edges. There’s no offense to be had at the question. Bluntness and grim realities go hand in hand for Bart.
She joins him at the bar, and he spins back to face the bar, glad to see his own glass is refilled right after Aurelia’s - a name he’s determined to commit to memory, though he doesn’t repeat it aloud. With all the patients names he had to memorize he doesn’t need the assistance anymore. “Got popped into existence here not long after th’monsoons started. Haven’t had much time to explore since the sun decided t’a make a comeback.” Winking obnoxiously he downs his drink and hisses through the burn with a laugh. “How d’ya know my lesser half?” Clearly teasing with the glitter in his eyes and the crooked grin on his lips but curious all the same.
Lover come hold me, my head's on the fritz Gaudy intoxicated feelings comfortably mixed
06-11-2021, 01:17 PM (This post was last modified: 06-11-2021, 01:20 PM by Aurelia.)
rose vines are as lovely when they wrap tight over your limbs and shatter your bones
"'m sorry to hear that. But... at least you're both together again?" She offers as some form of condolence. The fact that their timelines were different confuses the shit out of her but, hey... her own world and circumstances surrounding being here are pretty fucking weird and confusing too. Who's she to judge? So.. she just kind of takes his word for it.
"Remind me to tell him you called him that," she jokes back. Her thoughts are streaming through a tipsy filter and therefore this gem of a sentence pops out: "you're nicer to look at I guess. Don't have that whole.. scarred face vibe going on," she motions to her own nose in emphasis. Narrowing her eyes at him, she decides, "could probably pull it off, if you wanted to... but uh, anyway," she clears her throat awkwardly and waves things off in hopes that he won't respond to that in kind. Nevermind that she's not quite paying enough attention to notice the scars he does have, just that he doesn't have the same visible slash across his face.
"I know Nate 'cause I... er.. well, when I got popped into this world, I came in with kind-of-a-curse. I guess," she shrugs, "he's the doctor here so I thought he might have some sort of cure.. Basically, he told me there was nothing to do about it except rebuild my strength. Broke it to me that I was Abandoned, too. Which was great!" She lets her explanation kind of end there, sarcasm and loathing in her tones at the mention of being Abandoned, "Great things to hear..."
"We've been friends since then. Owe him that much, for punching him right in the nose," she tacks on, cracking a proud smirk behind the glass as she lifts it up to take a swig. Nevermind that it hadn't even hurt him. Whatever. Perks of being AsCeNdEd.
A crooked grin alleviates her of any awkwardness or confusion. "Yeah, 's confusin' as all hell. But it's somethin' to celebrate." He tips his glass in mock salute towards her as if to emphasize exactly what has brought him here, "Even if it is just a party of one. My bitch of a brother can't drink anymore, which sort of takes him out of the running." Though her teasing warning only has him giving a short bark of laughter as the drink warms him from the inside, setting the glass down for a refill. "He'll prolly ask why I didn't go with somethin' more creative."
It's clear Bartholomew isn't exactly practiced in the art of taking a compliment, if the red at the tips of his ears and down his neck is any indication. Not that it impedes the boyish grin, sharp and gloating, that splits his face. "Why thank ya darlin'. I'm sure I could pull it off, but he's the one with a ring on his finger - I need to protect the goods until someone's stuck with me like he managed." Laughter rumbles like thunder in his chest, deep and amused. Sunjata is just as scarred (hence Bart's nickname for the man) and surely wouldn't care, but the idea is still humorous that the Flood had to stay after marrying his brother regardless of visual changes. "Though I don't see one on yours?" A dark brow quirks, roguish and forward, though he's content to let it slide when her own backstory is presented.
Now he doesn't know much about being Abandoned, still getting up to speed on a tricycle that's rusted half to hell, but her bitterness about it is clear enough. In other words, that means steer clear, Bart. No sense in inviting a fist to his face too. Though that makes him guffaw loud enough to turn a few heads in the bar, having to lift a hand to thumb away wetness at his eyes at the imagery of Aurelia giving his brother a blue-blooded shiner. "Well hun, ya figured out the secret pretty fast. Quickest way into a Wren's heart is through a broken bone." Quickly he holds up a hand as if to ward her away. "But I'd be happy if ya took the long road with me, yeah? We did just talk about preservin' my face." But the amusement is clear, glittering in his brown eyes.
Lover come hold me, my head's on the fritz Gaudy intoxicated feelings comfortably mixed
07-07-2021, 06:26 AM (This post was last modified: 07-07-2021, 06:29 AM by Aurelia.)
rose vines are as lovely when they wrap tight over your limbs and shatter your bones
She looks at him with a kind of sly grin from the rim of her glass, swirling the liqour and ice within absently. Amusement and warmth brings a reddish hue to her face as she laughs and agrees, "It's a shame, too. He could use a drink more than most!"
Green eyes swivel up and down from the flushed skin on his neck to the glint of his teeth as he grins, soaking up the compliment for all it's worth. She truthfully hadn't realized it would make him feel so... well, whatever this is he's feeling. Her own blush deepens a bit as he mentions her not having a ring and she has to glance away, shaking her head as she almost spits out the sip of alcohol she'd taken in a spare moment.
"For now, but I've got a.. fella, if that's what you're asking," she informs him with a smaller smile, "and sorry, but you ain't worth leavin' him for." That last part is meant to be more of a jab than an actual insult, and she hopes he'll see it that way as well.
His words are a chord of encouragement that thrums a bit of happiness through her, the feeling reverberating through her chest and warming it. She shifts to sit up a little taller and regards him a bit better now, "Aw, you don't mean you're afraid of little ole me?" She accompanies this with a small pout.
Knowing full well she could hand his ass to him if she wanted to.
She lets it go with a humorous chuckle and leans back into the bar, motioning for another round. The humor fades a bit and she tilts her head at him a little. "So... what kind of life are you gonna live now, Bartholomew? Y'know.. now that you're free to start over."
