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!
i'm nothing more than a page unwritten on the pavement, blowing in the wind
Her honesty has him nodding quietly, working his jaw again as his brows pinch together and he stares at the seafoam that breaks so far below their feet. “I am tired of being cruel.” He says quietly, as if admitting it were some sort of shame he had to overcome – as if saying it might have his father rising back out of the water to haunt his every move once more, a stupid lopsided smile on his face that seems to say ‘I told you so’.
But she gives him tips, ones that he clings to in the face of everything. He reaches up to rub at his jaw, to scratch at his beard, before his hand slides along the scar that flows halfway up his face. “I want to be his safe space.” He admits quietly, before he’s leaning back on his hands, his head tilting toward the sky as if he could see Safrin straight through the starlight above. His tattoos bestowed by her shift subtly to match the constellations found in the sky and their present moment, ever flickering, ever shifting (however slowly it may be).
“But war is coming and we’ve already drawn our lines.” And Isla, beautiful, brilliant Isla, would see between the lines of his words to see that they stand on quite opposite sides of that line.
So how long would he get to remain as Nate’s safe space until it’s no longer safe?
you win a lot, and you lose just a little bit more than you gained in the end
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
Isla's smile breaks into something soft and sad, and she nods gently to Sunjata. "Yes, I can imagine that you are. But this isn't the same kind of cruel as you are probably used to. This is done out of love, and you won't have to do it for long." She hopes, anyway. Isla, of course, can only make assumptions and hope that she's right about the things she has observed between Nate and Sunjata. Either way, it has to be better than what they are currently going through.
The conversation only seems to get darker, though, the medic staring down into the deep water alongside the Flood, and she nods again. "I know exactly how you feel," she murmurs. "But perhaps we can still figure it out. Something has to be possible, so long as we still want to try, right?"
ISLA
when it's just the two of us, only the two of us, I could die
i'm nothing more than a page unwritten on the pavement, blowing in the wind
Does it make it any easier? To be cruel out of love? Or does it make it more difficult, harder to swallow, because those that loved you the most were the ones being the cruellest?
Or perhaps it’s just in Sunjata’s case that the roles had been reversed. That the ones that were supposed to love you and protect you the most had been the ones more closed off, nearly dangerous in the way his father kept trying to get rid of him whenever he got a chance until he’d become valuable.
Even that felt like it was an understatement.
His legs swing over the edge of the cliff, and all he can offer her is a nod to that, before she’s answering his question of drawn lines. “I want to try but I’m afraid I won’t get the chance to.” He tilts his head back toward Isla with a frown on his lips that pulls on the scar that spans half his face. It has all become so overwhelming to look at the big picture, so the Flood pauses to run his tongue along his lips, considering and thinking about where to start.
“Grounds first… Then we’ll go from there.” He says with a hint more determination.
you win a lot, and you lose just a little bit more than you gained in the end
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
Silence drops over them, pensive and brooding, and Isla lets it. Because sometimes there isn't anything more to say; sometimes things don't have an easy answer, and sometimes talking about it won't make things any less complicated or any less painful. And so the waves crash against the sides of the cliffs, and wounds caused by love ones continue to fester. "It does seem like things are moving very quickly lately, doesn't it," she mumbles, raising her pebble blues to his face as he turns, though she can't quite manage a smile for him this time.
Grounds first, then we'll go from there. That is something Isla can get behind, at least, and she nods to him, reaching out to touch a hand to his forearm. "Just let me know when you're in the grounds, and once you and Nate have had a break, I'll invite him to the infirmary to do some work with me," she decides. "Thanks, Sunjata, for speaking with me. At least both of us can have an eye on it now, right?"
Isla will sit with him for a few minutes more, before the reminder of her work and her patience inevitably drags her from her reverie. She leaves him on the cliffs where she has found him, hopefully better than before if only in some small way.
~FIN
ISLA
when it's just the two of us, only the two of us, I could die
