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!
05-21-2021, 03:54 PM (This post was last modified: 05-21-2021, 04:00 PM by Seren.)
Dark hair for catching the wind, not to veil the sight of a cold world
It was raining. A heavy downpour washed down over the stone city and wrapped the streets in a haze of gray. The dripping, rushing sound of water became the background hymn of all activities, from the banging of pots in kitchens to the squeal of a newborn through an open window. The rain set the beat for the Dragoon trainees as they ran laps around the courtyard - a soldier does not stop for rain! - and the squelch of their muddy boots was sharply contrasted with the trainers brisk commands.
Seren watched them run from the relative shelter of a nearby shed. Her wrapped and bandaged hands had spared her the misery of participating, but though the pain throbbing through her limbs made her grateful for the kindness, she wished she could have been given some other task instead. Her thoughts kept drifting back to Torchline, to burning buildings and a unicorn collapsed on the ground, its elegant legs slumped limp and unmoving against the street. Burning. Bleeding.
Dead.
Her dragon tried in vain to divert her thoughts. He kept skipping about around her feet, splashing through puddles and batting at the runnel of water that dripped from the roof. But the Starchild was in no mood for games at the moment, and his increasingly loud chirps and warbles fell on deaf ears.
✰ Starlight (Passive) | Starfilled night billow around her like a veil as she moves. It is more noticeable in daytime and when she make sudden movements.
05-21-2021, 04:20 PM (This post was last modified: 05-21-2021, 04:39 PM by Falke.)
Falke
pull up a seat right next to men and
pull out a pen, write down your memory
Expecting the unexpected, the Dragoon sentry waves Falke through with a commiserate, “That time again, ‘eh?” To which the Fixer can only chuckle and nod, understanding full well that people who are taught to take orders are not that great about opening up. His probing questions have occasionally found a potentially dangerous outlier here and there, which is why his work continues, but for the most part, it’s a dull afternoon of pulling more than yes, sir or no, sir from betwixt their teeth.
The route is familiar, flat, and so he does not use his cane at the moment, which is tucked under his poncho-covered arm.
The man lingers under an alcove, waiting for the trainer to call a break when the antics and chirps of a - yes, a dragon - draw his attention to the weapons shed. Stepping out across the soggy ground, Falke makes his way over to see what the creature is going on about, and when he pokes his head around the wall, he’s more than surprised to see the young woman.
“Oh, hello. So you’re what the dragon is going on about.” Said with a smile, of course, Falke does his best to be disarming.
Dark hair for catching the wind, not to veil the sight of a cold world
Neither the small blue dragon nor the teenager noticed the company until it spoke. Umbra squawked and spun around to stare up at the stranger, the silvery eyes huge and alarmed. Seren, on the other hand, immediately snapped to attention and had already saluted what she thought would be an officer, when she realized that it was not. Blinking into the face of a stranger, she faltered and frowned softly, torn from her thoughts.
"What? Oh, uhm.." Her gaze dropped towards the young hatchling, and hastily darted back up. A little guilty for ignoring her companion. Still not sure if she was supposed to remain alert or not. "Yes sir. Sorry, sir," she ventured, just to be safe. The 'no special treatment' promise from her father had ensured that no one hesitated to yell at the new recruit when it was necessary - and she really hoped this would not turn out to be such a time.
Though she doubted it. Between Umbra's noise, her inactivity and the slow seep of water through her boots, Seren was sure there had to be something to crack down on.
Seren
✰ Starlight (Passive) | Starfilled night billow around her like a veil as she moves. It is more noticeable in daytime and when she make sudden movements.
“Oh, no,” Falke immediately responds, waving away both the salute and the honorific. “No, at ease. I’m not a Dragoon.” Turning to the perturbed hatchling, he also offers an apology. “Sorry, friend. I’m not dangerous. Promise.” Then back to the girl, who now gets a more thorough look as his dark, warm eyes take in the shed, her age - and the wrapped hand. An injury? Not uncommon in the Dragoons, so he takes no notice of it given that it seems small and she doesn’t seem to be in obvious pain.
That he doesn’t know her means she’s relatively new, so the Fixer tucks everything in his hands into the space between his torso and upper arm and offers the appropriate hand (so her unbandaged one can shake) to the girl. “I’m Falke. Some people call me the Fixer. You and your companion are...?”
Dark hair for catching the wind, not to veil the sight of a cold world
The girl hesitated for only a fraction before lowering her hands down, the stiff expression quickly melting into a smile. You could never be too careful; not all officers took well to her brand of casual, and even fewer made a habit of wearing the uniform. To keep the regulars on their toes, no doubt.
As Umbra splashed over to sniff the hem of the mans trousers, just to make sure that he was telling the truth, Seren held out both hands to show that they were equally bandaged. Then she took the offered hand all the same, even if it was a gingerly grasp.
"Seren Taliesin, with Umbra. It's nice to meet you, sir. Is there anything I can do for you?" The courtesies did not quite ease all the way off. If she understood the gossip right, 'Fixer' had something to do with the Order. Blue eyes glittered with curiosity as she looked him over a bit more closely, though the inspection revealed nothing except that he had a kind look about him. "What does a Fixer do?"
Seren
✰ Starlight (Passive) | Starfilled night billow around her like a veil as she moves. It is more noticeable in daytime and when she make sudden movements.
Taliesin? He’s heard that name before. Looking suitably intrigued, Falke asks, “As in related to Ronin Taliesin?” He doubts the surname is common, so it’s a bit of a redundant question, but he’s curious about the relation all the same.
A gentle touch and tug at the hem of his pants draw his attention down to the dark blue hatching. Umbra, she’d said, and he finds it quite appropriate. “Ah, a little shadow, indeed. They’re lovely.” Smiling back at Seren, he tries to pay the compliment to both of them, but of course, the dragon can’t talk back. Standing still so the companion can continue its inspection if it wished, the older man brightens at the question and nods.
“I Fix people, mostly. Make sure everyone is mentally in good health and treat them if they aren’t. I advise Cian sometimes and run the medical clinic here. You may have met Doctor Hart - she’s my colleague and the one most Dragoons are more familiar with.” Someone’s got to patch them up, and the good Doctor is an expert at stitches and bone setting and curing all the physical ailments.
Dark hair for catching the wind, not to veil the sight of a cold world
She nodded, confirming his suspicions. "His daughter," she elaborated, and wondered not for the first time if she ought to place a sign around her neck. Or perhaps post a little something on the notice board so that people no longer had to ask. Then again, she was always a little proud to be able to announce that Ronin was her father.
The dragon snorted at the compliment, a dismissive chuff as if to say 'I know', and Seren stifled a giggle. "He is charmed," she said, "as am I. Is that why you are here today? To treat patients?" It was a good day for long talks by a fireplace, for sure. The rain showed no signs of letting up, and as if to make sure that the recruits didn't cling to such feeble hopes, the drill instructor could be heard ordering an additional few laps. The collective groan from her fellows had Seren wincing in sympathy, and guilt. She should have been out there with them.
"Looks like they will be at it for a while, yet," she noted, with a side glance at Falke. "If you are waiting for the instructor, I could show you to a sitting room, perhaps?"
Seren
✰ Starlight (Passive) | Starfilled night billow around her like a veil as she moves. It is more noticeable in daytime and when she make sudden movements.
“Oh,” Falke replies to the revelation, clearly momentarily taken aback and trying to reconcile the age of this young woman with the apparent age of Ronin.
Perhaps he’s not as up to date with what’s going on in Stormbreak as he thinks he is.
And perhaps an explanation will come later, when it isn’t blatantly rude to ask either of them.
“Ah, yes. In a way. I’m here to do a random mental health check. We’ve had Dragoons in the past who were unsuited to the position and found it’s easier to try and get ahead of any problems with some easy screening.” Looking back out towards the circling recruits in the rain, the Fixer is in agreement with her astute observation and takes a seat on a covered box, waving away the offer for the sitting room. He knows those chairs pale in comparison to his office chair.
But he is not quite so dextrous with his cane and it falls against another item in the area, hitting one of the buttons that makes it expand hard enough, so that the shortened thing is now a useable size and Falke blushes a bit at his clumsiness. “Ah. Oops. Sorry.”
Dark hair for catching the wind, not to veil the sight of a cold world
The idea that one might be turned away even after volunteering to be a Dragoon made Seren blink. It had never even occurred to her, and a sudden knot of worry in her stomach made her wonder what such an evaluation might say about her. "That's... interesting," she noted, a bit cautiously. "How do you determine that? What makes someone unsuitable, anyway?"
Her offer to escort the man to a more comfortable place was waved off, and with a shrug Seren settled in, resigned to the continued disruption of her solitude. It was probably for the better; at least this kept her from brooding too much. The sudden clatter and extention of a dropped cane drew her attention, while Umbra skidded away from it with a startled hiss. He splashed his way all the way into a deep puddle, managing to slosh brown water all over himself.
Reaching down to pick the item up, Seren looked at it curiously before offering it back to Falke. "That's an interesting cane," she noted, curiosity causing her eyes to glitter. "You're decidedly trickier than you look, mister." The slight smile hiding around her lips suggested this was a very good thing indeed.
Seren
✰ Starlight (Passive) | Starfilled night billow around her like a veil as she moves. It is more noticeable in daytime and when she make sudden movements.
Falke isn’t in the habit of discussing what he’s looking for when screening recruits, but the caution in the young woman’s voice makes him relent just a tad. “Don’t worry, I don’t imagine the daughter of a demigod wouldn’t be suitable. I need to make sure they aren’t going to go… rogue. Do something that might endanger the rest of the Dragoons. That kind of thing.” Aren’t secretly pro-Voice and pro-Ascended, really, but saying that feels a bit too specific.
Managing to blanche a bit at his clumsiness, the Fixer reaches sheepishly for his cane when offered back to him. “Thank you. But it’s all the Artificer’s handiwork, really. Have you met her? Seraphina? She’s as lovely and talented the gold work on this.” Tapping the intricate design of the cane with a finger, he then moves his hand to the other button and makes sure the end is pointed away from both of them.
“And then there’s this, he says, pressing the button and revealing a finely wrought blade that extends quickly from the end.
Dark hair for catching the wind, not to veil the sight of a cold world
The young woman hummed thoughtfully; that was not quite the answer she had expected. "Does being a demigod exclude me from risks like that?" she asked, unaware of the unspoken addendums. "If anything, I fear it might make me more prone to putting others in danger... I don't always realize when something I take for granted is strange or unexpected to others." It was a rare piece of introspection, and even more unusual of an admittance.
Turning back to the cane, her eyebrows shot up in surprise when the blade was released from a hidden sheath. "Very tricky," she repeated with a grin. "I haven't met her, but now I really want to! That is a clever weapon. How do you use it?" The cane made it seem a little unwieldy to use, almost more like a spear or glaive than a sword.
Seren
✰ Starlight (Passive) | Starfilled night billow around her like a veil as she moves. It is more noticeable in daytime and when she make sudden movements.
It takes the Fixer a moment to realize what the young woman is saying. Once he does, however, he starts to mentally kick himself for not thinking of it sooner. “Oh.” Not one to backpedal, Falke will always own up to his mistakes, which he does with much wider eyes and a shake of his head before. “I thought you looked a bit old to be Ronin’s daughter, but then perhaps the portals do odd things - but no, I suppose that makes much more sense.”
A daughter of Safrin stood before him. It could only be Safrin, based on what he’s heard and the Dragon’s devotion to the lady of the stars.
“No, I imagine you are to be questioned too. But that isn’t what I’m here to guard against.” He really can’t imagine that Safrin’s daughter would have sympathies for the Ascended or any significant kind of mental illness, but they would need to check just to be sure. Not knowing what might be normal? That’s just something she’ll have to learn. Experience.
Like this encounter. It’s normal enough.
“Ah, well -” extending it with a terrible grip, Falke makes much too big of a gesture to stab the air. Anyone could have seen that coming a mile away. “There’s a stabbing way. And a beating way, I suppose. Though the thought of using it that way does make me feel a little like a crotchety old man. It's more of a last resort kind of thing.”
Dark hair for catching the wind, not to veil the sight of a cold world
Smiling softly, so used to the double take that she didn't even question it, Seren wasn't sure what to say. There was no question in there, and while she wasn't exactly looking forward to being questioned on her motives for being here, she was more than happy to be given the same treatment as everyone else.
"I suppose I'll just have to wait and see, then," she murmured, slipping her attention back to the concealed weapon.
She took a step back upon seeing how Falke handled the cane. Even she could see that he was no expert with it, and his jargon only confirmed it. Stabbing and beating, eh?
"Have you had a chance to practice with it yet?" she wondered, very politely refraining from commenting on his abysmal grip. "If you'd like, Umbra and I could help you a bit. While you wait. I'm no expect, but I could show you what I've been taught about swords so far."
She glanced at the dragon; having tired of sniffing shoes, he had taken to splashing about just outside the shed, where converging runnels of water was busy forming a great lake.
Seren
✰ Starlight (Passive) | Starfilled night billow around her like a veil as she moves. It is more noticeable in daytime and when she make sudden movements.
He weighs the offer seriously, taking a moment to peer out into the rain at the grey figures that are still running drills. “There seems to be no sign of them stopping, poor buggers,” he says with a slight chuckle that clearly insinuates the Fixer doesn’t envy their predicament.
Turning back to Seren, Falke nods and accepts the offer, though he gives her bandaged hands a bit of a look. “I’ve no doubt your capable and would be happy to learn, but let’s not hurt those any more, yeah? Dr. Hart and the Captain would be very displeased if I hindered your healing.” But even as he declares the necessary caveat, he takes the cane in his right hand, holding it awkwardly at the end.
“Okay Umbra,” he says to the splashing dragon with one cheeky eye on his companion. “I’m ready. Just be careful with my right hip.”
