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!
Worn leather boots step down from the sandy rise along the beach, making their way towards the house that sits among the Aumakua cliffs. The night is dark and deep, a foreboding feeling crowding against Aurelia's chest. The sound of the waves crashing down against the shoreline creates an ambience that's too deep for her in this moment.
What she would give for a moment of real... true.. silence. She wishes her thoughts would stop; that, for once, she could be free of her own mind.
Her hand comes up to rap a few times against the door of Nate and Sunjata's house. Shoulders sag and a held breath is released, as she steps aside to wait for an answer. Right now, she doesn't know which of the two she'd like to speak with more. She's not sure if they want to hear what she has to say... but, a small part of her actually hopes it's Nate.
So when he answers the door in his own time, she'll shift her weight and lift her chin to look more directly at him, expression dark. She offers a smile that's devoid of happiness, though some relief rests in the features of her face at the sight of a familiar face.
"Hey... got any cigarettes in there?" She gives him a pointed look, nodding towards the house. She's hoping he'll understand the implied question of can we talk? She wouldn't have come all this way just for a smoke...
(Well, like, maybe... but anyway)
So leave me and tell me what I already know That I trialled and I failed and it's good to let it go
He’s going to do it. He really is this time. There’s a fucking board around here somewhere, they have paint. ’No night calls’, like it could be that easy, like they could just avoid fate with a sign.
Instead, he picks his painful way towards the door, exhaustion weighing heavily on his shoulders as he tries to school himself into something upright and confident, someone who’s beyond all the shit he’s been dealing with. And then he opens the door to Aurelia, and we’ll, there goes all that prep for nothing. Nate sags against the doorframe when he sees the arbiter, relief all too stark in his face.
Nate lifts a brow, his head tipping to the side as he gathers himself, considering the unasked question. “I think... Sunny might have a pack in his office. C’mon.” He leads her towards the offices, leaving the moonlight streaming through the windows to be the only illumination. Sitting on the desk, he gestures to one of the chairs, giving her a moment to sit while he fishes a pack of smokes out of his pocket, slipping two smokes out and lighting them between his lips before he offers one out to the arbiter.
“So.” He tries to pass it off as an invitation, though his entire demeanour says he would really rather not talk about anything that’s happened in the last month. Would rather not think about it. Not be living it. “Here you are.”
Cigarettes or no, she's just glad to be invited in, glad to see the relief reflected back at her - and that the silent understanding between them remains strong as ever.
It's enough of an invitation for her, and she considers just blabbering everything out, dumping it onto the proverbial table and letting him take it all in. But, she realizes, Nate's been at the brunt of all this. And the topic she has in mind isn't exactly something you just come right out and say about your friend's ex-wife...
No matter how angry and frustrated and confused and... yeah. The list goes fucking on, doesn't it.
So, instead of unleashing her own baggage onto Nate, she decides to rest it in the chair he gestures towards. One of her knees does start to bounce as the admittance leans heavy against the tip of her tongue.
"Here I am," she echoes tiredly, plucking the offering smoke from his fingers. She moves the filter between her fingers, staring down at it thoughtfully. Maybe she shouldn't be here. The smoke wisps out above their heads, silver and ghostly as it catches in the moonlight.
"I'm sorry it's late," she murmurs, pulling a drag and glancing up at him to see his reaction. "I can't sleep these days... haven't been able to sleep much at all since Hotaru got out." It's a way of explanation, an excuse, a justification... I couldn't sleep and you're one of the only ones who understands why.
A hard sigh works out through her lungs and she slumps back against the chair. "I went to try to talk to Safrin at the shrine," she starts, "I thought... well, I don't know what I thought anymore." She'd wanted to seek the guidance and help of her chosen goddess, and had not received it. "Whatever it was, that's not what ended up happening; a spirit came instead."
So leave me and tell me what I already know That I trialled and I failed and it's good to let it go
Already, this feels like one of those conversations, the kind that rubs against the grain until he’s frazzled and on edge, but it’s the least Nate feels he can do. He can listen, he can compartmentalize, he can offer a smoke and a shoulder and be there.
“Late is fine.” Nate snorts, looking away from her and pulling his own smoke away from his lips, his tongue dipping out to wet his lips. “Yea, I know the feeling.” It’s a joke that doesn’t come out like one, too heavy and serious, too bitter. Maybe he’d be handling this better if he could sleep, if he could blackout and be numb until things had settled, but... he’s past that now. Should be past missing it, and he is, until things don’t stop happening.
The smoke is returned between his lips, Nate pulling on it until it glows bright enough to throw jagged shadows onto his face, making him seem older, angrier, for just a moment. He leans back again, opening a drawer on the far side of the desk and finding an ashtray that he leaves at his side, his focus returning to Aurelia.
He can’t help the flicker of irritation that crosses his face as Safrin’s name clouds the air. It’s the issue with being open with someone, he can’t let only one thing loose, can’t bite back only bits and pieces. But they’re not actually talking about the jealous goddess, and it smoothed out the crease between his brows, has Nate settling again, his head cocking to the side. “Did it have anything helpful to say?” He asks wryly, remembering his own encounter with something other at a shrine.
07-02-2021, 09:41 PM (This post was last modified: 07-02-2021, 09:42 PM by Aurelia.)
Aurelia
Aurelia's brows furrow with realization at his curt phrases. Since she's not often closely involved with any Ascended other than Nate, sometimes things slip her mind. She knows they don't sleep, but it's still one of those things that's difficult to wrap her mind around. Maybe that's why she hasn't given those things a lot of thought.
She doesn't miss the shadow that crosses Nate's face at the mention of Safrin, and already she thinks she must have overstepped a boundary. But.. she can't bring herself to undo it, or take it back. Reality is that they sit on opposite lines of a war that's coming in eight seasons. The sooner they all get used to it, the sooner they can come to understand what it means for one another; for those that don't actually want to hurt their friends, but may be forced to. Then... maybe something can be done about that.
"No, not at all," she scoffs openly at this, sensing the edge in his tone that indicates he might've suspected as much. She leans against the arm of the chair almost restlessly, but none of her thoughts seem to converge into a coherent string she could present. There isn't a way to put this lightly, a way that could be acceptable. It's not a gift to wrap and put a little bow on top of.
"I went there to ask for help with Hotaru," she starts, gaze flashing from the moonlight as it hovers over Nate's darkened face. "Even though she's free, I doubt this is where it will end," But she is curious as to what Nate thinks, offering him a pointed lift of her brows. Given that he was once very close to Hotaru, maybe he has some sort of insight into what drives this woman.
It certainly wasn't loyalty or honor.
"She clearly isn't the type to sit down and take it when she feels she's been wronged, and we both know she has underhanded tactics when it comes to retaliation. I know she wanted to get revenge against you and Sunjata for.. personal reasons - she wants to kill me for what I did to Atlas. But Deimos being stripped of his position as General undoubtedly has them... scrambling. They had rank behind their actions before, and then they suddenly didn't..." And yet her tone seems to say except...
Because what better way to have power over others than to get pregnant with a demi-god. As has been proven by him breaking her out of jail. The timing had certainly been impeccable, on Hotaru's account.
So leave me and tell me what I already know That I trialled and I failed and it's good to let it go
Not at all. Well if there’s one thing to be said about Caido, it’s consistency, isn’t it? A sardonic huff of laughter leaves Nate as he shakes his head, settling in to watch Aurelia. Why rush what’s obviously going to be bad news?
What actually comes seems to surprise Nate as much as it exhausts him, the ascended shifting uncomfortably under the arbiters gaze. He reaches up to take the smoke from between his lips and mash it into the ashtray. “I don’t have a fucking idea what she’s thinking anymore. I don’t...” He licks his lips and glances towards one of the windows, trying to breathe through the sudden tightness in his chest. “Don’t think I knew her very well after all.”
“You're right though.” Nates eyes are hard when they return to Aurelia’s face, his mouth set in an unhappy line. “This isn’t the end of it, even with Deimos banned and demoted, even with her banned and out of jail.” Dread hangs over all of them like a stiletto blade, the string holding it up growing finer and finer by the day. And with the extra wrench of Remi involved, well...
Nate forces a sigh out between his teeth and scrubs at his face, flicking his hair back when he speaks next. “What did the spirit say to you?”
Of course, Nate already knows all of these things. She sighs and sinks back into her chair, slumps against it. Maybe she just needed to bounce the thoughts off of someone else. This entire thing has been fucked, and it's been one thing after another after another after...
Yeah, it's fucking exhausting. But she's tired of being tired. Wallowing in it does nothing, for anyone or anything. She wants to do something about it, and she only hopes... that Nate feels the same.
She thinks he might, judging from the way he still seems hurt over this. She's seen Nate hurt from love once before, when he'd been so damn defeated. But he still haunted the coastline looking for Sunjata, like a desperate ghost with no one to possess anymore. In that, she doesn't quite know what to expect from the man that struggles before her.
With Nate, at least, she doesn't quite feel as much a need to beat around the bush. She wipes at her own mouth, a subconscious mirroring of his body language before she's sucking a harsh drag of her cigarette. The harsh kind of drag that makes her grimace.
"It didn't say much," she admits, voice strained by the smoke in her throat until she releases it, "didn't have to. The answer's been in here-" and she taps her chest with her finger "-the whole time. It just brought it out of me. And I still don't know, Nate."
She's obviously struggling to say it, but.. out it comes.
"It suggested we strike first, before they come for us," her tone is low, as if it's an almost-secret that needs to be almost-whispered. "It told me... she would use her baby as a martyr. I believe she will use it to protect herself, to..." she's at a loss for words. It's insanity, what she's suggesting, but she wouldn't put it past Hotaru. No, she thinks this is exactly that woman's angle. "That baby... is nothing more than a pawn, Nate," the words seethe out. She can feel the blood in her veins start to boil already.
But the heat on her skin is chilled, chilled straight to her bone, as she finally airs one of the darkest thoughts she's ever had. "Wouldn't death be... a mercy, in that case?"
So leave me and tell me what I already know That I trialled and I failed and it's good to let it go
Pulling a deep, unnecessary breath, Nate nods. Spirits are.. fickle, confusing, even more so than anything else in this bitch of a world. But clearly, it's left an impact, drawn something dark and squamous from the Arbiter, something she tugs up once again to show him.
The words Aurelia drops into the room are dense, swirling around until they choke out the balm of moonlight reflecting in Nate's eyes, leaving the bright blue flat. Never has the ascended stillness been so apparent in the doctor, even his usual facsimiles of life paused while he considers. The very tip of his tongue pokes out to ease the passage of his words when they come, his voice soft, and his gaze not lifting to Aurelia's face.
"You can't... you're talking about treating a symptom, as if that will fix the sickness." Tension tugs at Nate's every muscle, his hands clenched in his lap and his jaw tight, threatening to choke his words before they escape. "It's not that simple." Nate's hand comes up to stroke his chin, grip so tight it stretches and pulls his skin this way and that. "And this b- this symptom has more than Hotaru looking out for it."
There are so many moving pieces here, and it feels like they're not big enough players in this drama to do anything more than be caught in the cogs. No hope for recompense unless they're willing to invite devastation upon themselves. "What happens when Remi comes after you for hurting his child?" It leaves Nate simply, rhetorical, despite the way his brows lift, the way his head cocks.
Nate freezes, becoming impossibly still. It's grating. The way he tries not to react tells all she would ever need to know anyway. Aurelia's gaze flickers away and her hand lowers, ashes drifting silently from the end of the cigarette. She flinches gently at the very first words that pull together on his strained lips. "I know.." she murmurs, but remains quiet so that he can get his full point across.
"He would kill me," she answers, because honestly he would. Should Remi ever feel the want or need to seek her out, to take action against her - for whatever reason - she would not survive. "But what happens if any of them come after me?" She queries, lifting her gaze back up to Nate's. "I'm no match for any of the people who are my enemies. Once upon a time, I might've been better cut out for this shit..." when she had been nothing but calloused edges and blades poised to cut, when the world had been different.
"I'm sorry," she says abruptly, straightening up, "I should never have brought any of this up. I shouldn't have given it the thought that I did..."
So leave me and tell me what I already know That I trialled and I failed and it's good to let it go
A nod follows the answer, Nate blinking slowly, almost serenely. “He wouldn’t even think about it.” A laugh leaves the ascended, at odds with the words that have just left him. Really, the idea of Remi should be horrifying, should poke its fingers into the crevices of dark memories, but he can’t help admiring the other man from a distance. It would be so easy for him.
Shaking his head to focus himself again, Nate meets Aurelia’s gaze. “If they’d kill you if they came after you, why give them any extra incentive?” He queries right back, his head cocking. “Focus on making yourself a match for them. If you’re going to go down, you might as well go down fighting, huh?” He sympathizes with her position though, maybe more than she realizes in the moment. A world filled with people who could destroy you on a whim, who have the means and the urge? It’s exhausting.
The apology has Nate’s brows pinching together, a confused frown shooting towards The technically current arbiter. “Thinking it is how you stay fuckin’ sane, Aurelia.” A hand comes up to rub at Nate’s mouth while he ponders the phrasing of of his actual point, just for a moment. “Talking about it is how you figure out that it’s real easy to think up terrible plans.” He tries a laugh, finds it rings hollow, but he can’t figure out how to stop it once it’s starts, not without clapping a hand over his mouth completely.
While Nate laughs in his awe of Remi, not that Aurelia can tell what it's about, all she can feel is a stark sense of impending doom. It raises the hairs on the back of her neck, the sound of Nate's laughter.
But his question to her question is enough to shut her up, her mouth drawing into a tight-lipped frown as his point sinks in. Even if she would never really hurt a child, let alone an unborn baby, Nate makes a very good point. And he makes another that follows it up, as well. But the way he says it, the way it's followed by a laugh he can't quite stifle, makes her wonder.
Her head tilts slightly and she furrows her brows quizzically at him, "Have you thought of any? Terrible plans."
So leave me and tell me what I already know That I trialled and I failed and it's good to let it go
The slight sparkle in Nates eyes fades, serious topics returning to them like an inevitability. Nate throws out question, wisdom he feels not at all qualified to share, but desperate to try anyway. It’s the least he can do for a friend.
“All I have is terrible plans Aurelia.” Nate laughs again, a hysterical kind of hilarity infecting the conversation now as he starts to detail all of his worst ideas, murders and over the top revenge plots and things that just purely make no sense at all. It’s a calmer way to whittle away the rest of the night, both of them getting the chance to unwind in a way that’s been denied to them for too long.
