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!
The last time Maeve came to Halo, she didn't do much exploring, having spent majority of her time locked away with Hotaru. Not that she was complaining about that one bit. It's actually where she is about to head, but she thought she might take a look around the city first to see if she could find anything else to bring her new lover besides the tea blend she made just for her. Dressed more appropriately for the cold this time, Maeve wanders the small market place, her bag slung over her shoulder as she meanders from stall to stall. There are a surprising amount of people out, but she's not sure it's all that uncommon here. Can't really avoid the cold if you life here and they're all accustom to the freezing temperatures unlike the Madame.
Her breaths fog the air before her, cheeks a rosy pink as she draws the coat Hotaru gave her more tightly around her frame in an attempt to keep out the chill. She pauses at one of the stalls, reaching out with gloved fingers to pick up a trinket, turning it over in her hand carefully.
'Cause it's too cold for you here and now so let me hold both your hands in the holes of my sweater
you can't see, we've been falling from the 5th story, hope we don't hit the surface
Funnily enough, the last time Varus was in Halo, he also had spent time with Hotaru. This time, though, circumstances were a bit different. It’s another quick trek to try and put a few things together, his head a bit straighter on his shoulders – even if one of those is definitely covered in snow and ice, the metal seeming to absorb the cold air without any hindrance. It’s fine, he isn’t dressed for Halo. He doesn’t need to be.
It’s back to the stalls he goes, searching for anything that sparks an old memory as well as a small gift to bring back to the Grounds, and he thinks he might have found just the thing – a book of sorts, of wintery escapades, dashed with a bit of murder mystery within, that he picks up easily and tucks into his elbow of his glittering, icy arm.
There’s a surprising amount of people out, though, and Varus finds himself having to back up into a space available in a spot that Maeve is standing, the metal arm invading her space and causing a bit of snow to drift onto her gloved hands, while Varus stares at the crowd, waiting for them to leave so that he might dart to the next available shadow as quickly as he can.
Snowflakes were already sticking in dark curls, stark white and icy as the wind tugs at her hair, whipping it around her face. Her brows drew together as the temperature seemed to drop a few more degrees and she glances over her shoulder at the man who brought the cold with him. "Thomas?" She blinks in surprise, head cocking to the side as she looks him over. Maeve doesn't notice the scars or even the arm, too caught up in the fact that Thomas is here in Halo after disappearing from the Flood's house at the end of the season. There is a feeling of relief that floods her chest, glad to see that her worker seems to be okay despite all that happened.
Maeve surges forward, wrapping her arms around the other man, discarding the trinket in her hand to fall back onto the table. "Oh! I'm so glad to see you're okay! I was worried when I didn't find you when I came back to Torchline." It isn't until she draws back, looking up at him again that the confusion comes back in full force. She didn't remember him having scars? Was he hurt worse in the collapse than she realized?
'Cause it's too cold for you here and now so let me hold both your hands in the holes of my sweater
you can't see, we've been falling from the 5th story, hope we don't hit the surface
It seems to drag on, if he’s being honest. When he thinks he has a moment he can depart back out into the snowy alley, more people keep coming. He’s so focused on that, that when Maeve speaks his head snaps to her with evident confusion in his gaze. “What?” Thomas? Who the fuck was Thomas?
But she’s moving and suddenly wrapping her arms around him and Varus freezes, squeezing the book against his side, standing as still as a pillar. “Think you’re mistaken.” He manages after a moment, relaxing the second she pulls away, turning to face her a bit more fully before he’s shaking off the snow that’s accumulated on his metal arm. “I don’t know a Thomas and he’s definitely not me, so…” An air of a laugh leaves him, wondering why everyone continues to think of him as someone else. First it was the elusive Aedion, and now he was a Thomas? His blue gaze focuses on Maeve a moment before he’s readjusting the book in his arm. “Name’s Cal.” Not Thomas. Not Aedion. Cal.
Maeve blinks up at him, brows drawn together as he speaks which just cements that his is definitely not Thomas. "Oh. I'm so sorry. You... You look just like one of my workers." A soft laugh bubbles up in her chest as she steps back awkwardly, tucking a stray curl behind her ear as the wind breezes past them, nipping at her skin. Maeve feels her cheeks flush further, having nothing to do with the cold as she meets his eyes. Her own sea glass green gaze soft as she extends her hand to him for a shake, "Maeve. It's nice to meet you, Cal. Sorry for that mix up." She smiles up at him, soft and sweet as she shifts on her feet, bottom lip finding its way between her teeth.
The snow seems to be picking up by the minute, coming down heavier as the light seems to fade, "I was just about to find somewhere to warm up. Would you like to join me? Can buy you a drink to apologize for that forced hug." She arches a brow, head cocking to the side as she looks up at him.
'Cause it's too cold for you here and now so let me hold both your hands in the holes of my sweater
you can't see, we've been falling from the 5th story, hope we don't hit the surface
He reaches up with his free hand to scratch at the back of his head, a ghost of a smile crossing his face, keeping the fangs hidden for the moment. “It’s all good. Been getting that a lot lately.” Varus huffs a soft sound, not unlike a laugh but not quite committed to one yet. More of a muttering sort of situation before he shakes his head out of it and extends his good arm to shake her hand. His isn’t gloved but it bears none of the redness of typical hands stuck out in the cold. He shakes her hand easily, just the right amount of pressure, before he withdraws, stuffing that hand into a pocket while the metal one continues to hold the book.
“Nice to meet you too, Maeve.” He says after a moment, ensuring he commits the woman’s name to memory. As for a drink? For warming up? He doesn’t need either, but if it passes the time until the sun finally goes down and he can head back to the portal, he’s game. “Sounds great.” This time he actually chuckles, before he’s found a pocket through the crowd where they can dip into the next section of shade. He gestures with his metal arm for her to take the lead. He doesn’t know if it’s worth mentioning the drink to her or asking if she’ll stick to the shadows, knowing it’ll give him away quite quickly. But he supposes it’s better than blowing up, right?
But then again, he was an assassin and was quite good at following people through crowds who didn’t want to be seen. At least this way he’d be able to follow her even if he got lost. So he moves from shadow to shadow, until the bar is in sight and he dips into the alcove of the roof with a quiet internal sigh.
Maeve looks down at their clasped hands, brows knitting together. Not wearing gloves was an interesting choice. Even more interesting is the lack of red tinge to his skin that is a tell tale sign of just how cold it is. Maeve doesn't say anything about it, simply shaking his hand and releasing it after a moment before she makes to pick up the trinket she was going to get for Hotaru, tucking it into her pocket. "Wonderful. I need to get out of this cold." She says with a hum, sticking to the shade just as much as he does. Another thing she notices, but doesn't comment on. If she didn't thin him an Ascended before she definitely does now, but he has a reason for keeping it to himself.
Finally they slip into the warmth of the bar and she sighs in relief, shrugging off her coat and hanging it on one of the many racks. "Pretty sure my hands were starting to go numb out there." Maeve huffs, running her fingers through her hair and dusting off the last of the snow. She finds a nice table next to the hearth that's burning brightly, warmth rolling in waves off of the flames and she sighs in relief. "So are you from around here then?" Maeve asks, waving her hand for a waiter to come over so she can place an order for a nice hot cider.
'Cause it's too cold for you here and now so let me hold both your hands in the holes of my sweater
you can't see, we've been falling from the 5th story, hope we don't hit the surface
It isn’t a surprise to him that she does want to get out of the cold. What does surprise him, though, is that she sticks to the shade just about as much as he does. Of course, he doesn’t comment on it, has no reason to. His secrets are his own and her choice of the matter is her own, as well. But soon enough the bar is in sight and the Kraai is a space that Varus hasn’t ever been to before. The fireplace has him casually keeping his distance, letting her choose the seat closest to it while he picks the one furthest.
“Yeah?” He asks, raising a brow at her with a playful smile that tugs on his lips. He shrugs out of the light jacket he wears, too, revealing a simple t-shirt beneath it, with the bright gleaming metal of his arm as he sets the book with the bag he’s got in the space beside him. “Me? No. I’m from the Grounds originally.” He pauses, to order a drink from the waiter, something simple and strong because he absolutely won’t be able to get fucked up, but if he gets something strong enough he might be able to pretend to taste it.
But then his blue gaze lands back on Maeve with that same easy smile on his face. “I’ve been all over, though. Let me guess… You’re from Torchline?” A dark brow raises with a playful challenge in it, wondering if he’s correct. After all, most Halovian’s were typically much better in the snows of Longheat versus the rest of the year. He’s from the Grounds and he hasn’t seen her before. She doesn’t seem like she’s from Stormbreak, else she wouldn’t be associating with him (because she absolutely has to know), and lastly? She’s certainly not Fae which rules out the Greatwood.
Regardless, Varus sits back, pleased and content, pretty sure he’s guessed correctly just as he had with Nate.
He lets her take the spot closest to the fire and she knows that's for his own wellbeing more than hers, but Maeve isn't going to argue when the chill has set into her bones, threatening to keep her cold for ages. The fire at her back helps and soon that chill is melting away. Especially once the hot cider is in her hands to help thaw her fingers out, "Definitely. I've always been a baby about the cold. I don't like it all that much." Not that she's a huge fan of the heat either. Maeve gets along with the sun about just as well as he does. Not that she has the risk of imploding, but she'll burn in other ways.
Her own brows raise and she smiles at him from over the rim of her mug, "Can't say I'm surprised there. You have the look." And the tech. She lets that part go unsaid as she eyes do a quick once over of his form before flitting back to his blue gaze, cocking her head to the side. A laugh pushes past her lips, "What gave it away? It was my tan, wasn't it?" Maeve quips, unable to help the joke that falls between them as she grins at him, taking a sip of her cider and humming as the warm liquid settles in her belly.
'Cause it's too cold for you here and now so let me hold both your hands in the holes of my sweater
you can't see, we've been falling from the 5th story, hope we don't hit the surface
His drink is before him, something strong and likely absolutely terrible tasting – Halo wasn’t too well known for the good booze, at least not before he’d gone offline. He doesn’t know part of it is shipped from the Grounds and also Torchline at this point. Regardless, he can’t taste it. So when it lifts to his lips and he takes a deep sip, it’s gone without so much of a wince, without so much of a shift in his face. “Can’t say I’m a fan of it either.” He offers her with a fleeting smile, before he’s telling her where he’s from.
And honestly? Her comment sparks a brighter laugh, a cutting grin that spreads across his face that does reveal the fangs hidden beneath there. “What makes you say that?” He’s genuinely curious – what gave him away as the Grounds resident? Was it the metal arm? Was it the way he looked hardened, gruff?
As for her, though, the grin remains as he’s correct in assuming she’s from Torchline. The glass lifts and he takes another sip, swallowing it with ease, with no burn. “It’s absolutely the tan.” He jests in return, huffing a soft laugh before he’s leaning back in the booth, stretching the metal arm across the back of it – reaching further out of the range of the heat of the flames if only to make himself more comfortable.
Her brow arches at his statement, head cocking to the side as a smile curls across her lips and she bites back a laugh. She knows he can't even feel the cold. Not in the way she can. Maeve brings her cider up, taking a slow sip and sighing as the warm liquid runs down her throat to settle in her belly. "No? I didn't think it would bother you. Given the way you're dressed." She hums, dipping her head as she motions to his current state of dress.
The sudden bark of laughter surprises one of her own from her lips and she shrugs her slender shoulders at the site of his fangs, confirming her suspicions in a second, "The arm, for one. Accepted and Abandoned don't typically sport that kind of, uh, tech." Upgrades? What do they call them again? Maeve isn't too sure, but robotic arms weren't really common among the really fleshy types. "I've never seen you in Torchline either. Given the way you avoided the sun, you definitely wouldn't find yourself there on a more permanent basis. Only makes sense that you're Ascended." Most Ascended seemed to congregate in the Grounds. It just made the most sense to her.
Maeve smirks at him from over the rim of her mug, letting her eyes trail over his form as he stretches himself out to get more comfortable, leaning further out of the heat coming from the fire. "I knew it. I work on it year round, you see. I'm very proud of it." She drawls, a laugh bubbling up in her chest as she meets his icy blue gaze, "What was it really?" Maeve asks curiously, leaning forward across the table, fingers wrapped around her mug as she braces her arms against the tabletop.
'Cause it's too cold for you here and now so let me hold both your hands in the holes of my sweater
you can't see, we've been falling from the 5th story, hope we don't hit the surface
A crooked smile crosses his face at the way she seems to insinuate his attire is enough to show just how much he disliked the cold. But it was certainly a perk of the Ascendeds to not have to feel such biting, teeth chattering chill. But then she’s talking about his arm, and he absolutely knows which one she’s talking about, even if the regular, normal hand rises in his view. “Looks pretty normal to me.” He comments with an amused smirk, his gaze lifting to meet her over the hand that’s in his current view.
He does shift slightly in his seat, though, the metal one coming out and around to flex and let the metal plates shift against one another. “Ah but Torchline is such a beautiful place to visit.” He assures her, cocking his head slightly. “But I was born and raised in the Grounds. Just, disappeared for a while. Back now, though, so I suppose I just decided it’d be best to go home.” To the Grounds, to the only home he’d truly known, even if he’d spent far more time stuck under a stupid hedge in Queen’s Gambit.
As for the rest of it, though, he dips his head with a brighter fanged grin. “I will say that being Ascended looks great on me, given how old I am.” A leading question, perhaps? Oh, but it was all the more fun to have her ask about it before dropping that kind of bomb.
She looks him up and down almost entirely and Varus leans back away from the heat, watching her as he debates telling her what exactly gave it away. Truthfully? Much of the same. “Well, haven’t seen you in the Grounds. You’re certainly not dressed for Halo given the teeth chattering.” He pauses to appraise her a bit up and down. “And if you were from Stormbreak, well, we wouldn’t be having a conversation like this now that you know what I am.”
Maeve rolls her eyes at him, shaking her head as a laugh huffs past her lips, "Oh. I see. He has fucking jokes." She mutters, bringing her cider up to take another sip from the still warm mug. Her eyes track the movement of his metal arm with interest, taking in how the plates shift and slide easily with the motion of his arm before he's talking about Torchline and drawing her attention once more. "That it is. I find that it has plenty to hold one's attention." Maeve hums, mirroring his head movements as he continues to speak.
"Home is home for a reason. I think we always find out way back there at some point." She muses, leaning against the table top as he continues to drop little hints about his past, leaving her to piece things together. The mention of his age has her arching a brow, "Oh? And just how old are you, love? Surely you're about to say a number that is meant to shock me, no?" Maeve clearly sees through whatever little game he's set up with this question, but that's okay. She'll indulge him.
All of the things he points out are valid and she can clearly see his reasoning behind his drawn conclusion. Maeve smiles, shrugging slender shoulders as she meets his gaze, "I don't visit the Grounds often, but have on occasion for business. As far as dressing for Halo... I've not exactly figured that one out yet, but I'm working on it. Strombreak is a place I've visited, but don't ever see myself staying. I've never subscribed to the notion that Ascended are a problem."
'Cause it's too cold for you here and now so let me hold both your hands in the holes of my sweater
you can't see, we've been falling from the 5th story, hope we don't hit the surface
“Of course he has jokes.” Varus quips rather quickly, smirking to her despite himself. The conversation shifts to Torchline and the Ascended finds himself nodding along, though he wonders if it would be different if he had anywhere else to go other than the curiosity of trying to figure out what the hell happened while he was gone. Speaking of that, though, she’s a good sport, falling into his leading question, and it’s with a wide fanged grin that he decides to answer her.
Of course, not without a brief pause, as if he’s trying to remember. “Oh, it’ll shock you.” It has to. It’s virtually unheard of unless she’d met Aamu. “I disappeared in King’s End for three hundred years.” He lets the words fall from his lips, pausing, studying her face for her reaction. “Doing the math, I’m nearly three hundred and fifty.” Not quite accurate, but not quite inaccurate, either.
As for the points he has of whether or not she’s from Torchline, he is quietly pleased to see his deducing skills are up to snuff. “Then you and I will get along well, then.” He says with an amused grin. “I always found Stormbreak to be a bit… Stuffy.” His nose wrinkles as he says it, stretching out again, his legs stretching out before him under the table. “For business, though? What do you do?” Curiosity, of course. What kind of job took one from place to place?
