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 question startled a laugh from Maeve and she quickly shook her head at the idea of it. Her? A Dragoon? Absolutely not. "Gods no! I mean, nothing wrong with it, but it just isn't for me. I have other ideas for myself." Beyond just the Halenani and taking care of her workers. She wanted more than that. It wasn't until recently that she realized she was capable of more than that. The Madame wasn't going to limit herself. Nor was she going to let anyone else. The Dragoons weren't the right path for her, but there were other things in the stretches of Caido that she could claim.
"You should come see it sometime. I can show you my bees." What an odd thing to say to someone else. How does one just show bees? Have a harmonica that controls them, of course. She's only used it a little bit, calling them in to pollinate and drawing them out of their hive so she can collect honey easily, but other than that she hasn't had a chance to show anyone. "All kinds really... I like making them taste how something makes me feel. I made one for Torchline that warms you up from the inside like you're sitting in the sun on the beach. It's just a little hobby. I could give you some if you'd like."
the only heaven I'll be sent to is when I'm along with you
The reaction caused a snort from Melita, as her fingers glossed over the shell, admiring its colorations and stripes; depicting murk and mud, as if from the Feverlands, pitched along the earth, rather than once from the sparkling blue sea. “Good for you,” she laughed, not meaning it in any other sense – Maeve had plans, orchestrations, means, and measures behind her, rather than raging off to join a brutal, ferocious force.
The next statement bolstered all her attention though, no longer riveted on any hues or blends. Her head shot upwards, eyes rounding, mouth agape in a frenzied bout of excitement. “Bees?! I love bees!” Namesake aside, she and her sister used to traipse behind her mother amidst those wonderful fields of wildflowers and herbs, pretending to be those insects; buzzing along in song and rhapsody that Melita had never been able to match without her beloved twin. “Have you seen the chorus ones? They’re lovely!” Exhilaration conjured, restlessness already pouring through her veins, she forgot about the shell in her hand, head tilting, striving to absorb the information. “Oh, yes please!”
help tonight to split its seams
Give the bruises out like gifts
It wasn't that she needed the praise from anyone, telling her that she was making a good choice by not joining, but it still felt nice to be reassured. Maeve smiled in return, finding a few shells of her own to add to her basket, finding a mix of black and lavender shells that would compliment the others she's collected nicely. "Thanks. I like to think I'm making a good choice." She hummed, digging a little deeper into the sand, shifting through the powdery white granules as the water began to creep up the shore closer to them.
The reaction was one she wasn't expecting, her own eyes widening as she looked up at Melita, brows lifting towards her hairline. "You do? Well, in that case... I could show you my hive sometime? They're making lavender honey right now. It's rather good on bread." Maeve wrinkled her nose as her smile grew, unable to help the giddiness that spread in her chest. It wasn't often that she had someone to share these things with. "Chorus bees? Can they sing? I've never heard of such a thing! I'll get you some tea together if you want to come by."
the only heaven I'll be sent to is when I'm along with you
The honeybee had never really given herself an opportunity, or chance, to wonder if she was making good choices. The youth just committed to them, and off she went – scraping down trees, notching an arrow, kneeling at shrines of death heralds, begging for signs and answers in other platitudes. But she’d be content to tell others her opinions (often); emboldened and audacious, striking out against the world in all her ambitious, bewildering glory.
Which seemed to have happened now – the hum and thrill of her excitement appeared to have surprised Maeve. Enthusiasm was a rampant condition in Melita’ existence, on multitude of angles and abilities, but she couldn’t remember if the Madame had ever seen her bolstered into such heights. Most likely not, given circumstances as of late. “Sure!” Because lavender honey sounded sublime, and the smugger wouldn’t squander such an occasion. With a contagious smile, she sifted through the sand with a much more wild eagerness, partially feral as she combined through granules, and regaled with descriptions of chorus bees. “They come around in Flowerbirth in the Grounds, and they hum melodies! They can buzz out lovely little songs.” As for tea, Melita accepted with a rapt series of nods.
help tonight to split its seams
Give the bruises out like gifts
In truth, their last meeting had been awkward at best, both attempting to make preparation to a building that wasn't going to make it to the end of the season. Not that either of them knew it then, but it was a dark spot that the Madame preferred not to focus on. Especially when this meeting was going so much better, both of them connecting on something that was unexpected for the Madame. Who would have thought that shells, bees, tea, and honey would have such a way of bringing them closer. That their companions would have sparked this tentative flame that was their friendship. Maeve was glad for it. Melita, much like Seren, brought a rush of something to her life that was sorely missing. The youths reminding her that there wasn't a need to be so serious all the time.
Her smile grew to match Melita's lighting up her face as she continued to dig through the sand, fingers brushing across a point that seemed much larger than what she uncovered. She could see the faintest bit of black stark against the white sand. "Oh that's wonderful! I wonder if I could direct them with my harmonica... I've never thought to try it before. Maybe we could make a trip together. I'd love to see them." It was a casual invitation, leaving it open for the honeybee to accept or refuse if she wished. Maeve continued her digging, lifting her eyes back to the youth, "I think I found a big one. Help me dig it out?"
the only heaven I'll be sent to is when I'm along with you
Melita was simplistic in her likes, the platitudes ranging from flowers, bees, shiny objects nestled in waterfalls, to raucous acts of emboldened violence, and a whole plethora of things layered in between. But Maeve had seemingly found a sweet spot in nectar and tea, in the way shells enamored in glazes from the sun, in not twisting or turning over the dramatics and chaotic semblances of this world. It was easier, and more meaningful, perhaps, to have these opportunities and chances to sink into something that wasn’t sorrow. That wasn't guilt. That wasn’t ashes and upheaval. Those hours were always numbered at best.
“Maybe,” she pondered, trying to remember a particular pitch and hum under her breath, pulsing it outward. “That would be nice! Before monsoons and Ark trips.” A moment to look forward to before upcoming melees and hellholes.
Then she maneuvered closer, to where Maeve had indicated a piece of obsidian hues. “Ooh, ok!” Her hands went in, strong, sturdy muscles woven from days and season and years of training, forging and foraging into the sand, digging, digging, digging.
help tonight to split its seams
Give the bruises out like gifts
It was the simple things that were perhaps the most delightful. How they could wrap you up in simple moments that brought more fun and peace than anything else ever could. There was a gentle sort of companionship that they were falling into. One that held promises of trips to see chorus bees, sharing of honey, sweet treats and pasties had over tea, and seashells hiding on the seashore. All of these joys so small, but equaling something bigger than either of them might realize.
"We'll plan for it then." She hummed easily, attention turning to the little hole they were digging, slowly uncovering the shell that laid hidden beneath. Melita dove in with nothing but enthusiasm, digging, shifting, and tossing sand away as they methodically and chaotically uncovered the hidden conch. It wasn't just black. No, there were spots of pinks and purples, swirling with the spikes of the conch, creating something like a stormy sunset sky. It wasn't devoid of color. Nothing ever way.
the only heaven I'll be sent to is when I'm along with you
Plans were easy; it was the following through that could be difficult. But Melita had bees in her head now (literally and figuratively), and not much would stop her save for some other distraction, danger, or interim out at sea. She gave Maeve a swift nod, already weighing and deliberating options within the sand.
The conch turned out not to be touches of merely obsidian, but a range of sunset hues and blends; as she might’ve seen on the bow of the Ark’s deck, as they avoided an impending tempest, or along the range of the sea when everything warned and threatened. Not this one though. “Very pretty,” she murmured and grinned, handing it over to Maeve. “Not quite what you were looking for, but I think it does the trick.” Still beautiful to behold – wild as opposed to just the blinding pieces of darkness. No voids to trace either – picturesque views of what it was like to brave the storm.
help tonight to split its seams
Give the bruises out like gifts
Maeve takes the conch from the youth, holding it in her hands almost reverently, turning it this way and that to take in all the colors. The soft lavender of the smooth inside, growing a darker plum the deeper into the shell it goes, and almost white on the very outer edges. Her fingers trace over spirals and ridges, smile growing as she brushes sand from its surface, "I think it's better than what I was looking for, don't you?" A sunset breaking through dark clouds, rain clearing to reveal that all was well, and not everything was lost. It was fitting and would be the best replacement she could find.
With their main query completed, the rest of the afternoon is spent searching for shells more fitting to Melita's taste, and planning trips to see singing bees. Aidon and Fangorn play in the sand close by, basking in the warmth of the sun, chasing and frolicking together despite their differences. For a single afternoon, things don't seem so bad and Maeve can see the sun filtering through the clouds, casting things in a new light.
~FIN <3~
the only heaven I'll be sent to is when I'm along with you
