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 notes go far and wide, written in the sand, chalked onto walls or, in Maeve's case, elegantly sent to the Court of the Stars by parchment. All but the last are written in the smuggling cant (so even you can't really get it wrong, Adam, if you've been at the job for any length of time), and all bear the same message - more or less. Rae's Fingers, an hour past sunset for those who know the way already. And for those who don't, and additonal message: blow out the candles as you go.
And now Jack sits and waits. It feels like a lifetime ago since Zeph ran his first meeting here, and fuck if the captain even knows where his once-upon-a-time-brother even is these days. This time around there's no cheerful arrangement of food, no welcoming atmosphere. Just a keg, a few bottles of brandy, and a smuggler waiting to see who else is on board. Lucky for them, Jack is an unexpectedly patient man.
you are a quiet god and your hunger is cavernous
Jack being an Abandoned is common knowledge these days, however his Telepathy remains a well-kept secret:
Magic: Passive Telepathy | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 30ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
Type: Grey | Rank: Mastered
Also branded with a small star tattoo beneath his left eye.
Speed up to the precipice and then slam on the brakes
Some people crash two or three times and then learn from their mistakes
Ugh, fine, Adam guessed if it was written in the fancy boy language, he couldn't pretend he didn't know about it. Rolling out of his cave to come to the meeting, he was dressed in his sexy, careless best: black shirt so loose it was more like a tent around his torso and showed all of his chest and stomach and tight leather pants. It was after sunset, so he could afford to be as slutty as he wanted without fear of the sun
As he went he blew out the candles, though Adam wondered if that would fuck over the people coming after him. Oh well. He was the most important guild member, after all.
"Hey there boss man." He greeted on his way in, casually going for one of the bottles of brandy and taking it to a chair, where he promptly sat leaned back with his boots resting on the table, using the handle of his knife to pop off the cap and take a swig of alcohol he couldn't taste.
We are the ones who don't slow down at all
And there's nobody there to catch us when we fall
It does feel like a lifetime ago. And a lot has changed since those times. Regardless, though, he does find himself weaving his way through the familiar paths of the tunnels, making his way toward their little hideaway that had become a bit more like a home over this past year. He picks the seat he always picks, one somewhat near the back, nodding his head toward Jack in greeting before letting his bronze gaze slip to all the others that have joined.
There are some faces he doesn’t recognize, most notably Adam, but sinks into his seat, hands folded together as his fingers thread and twist in the sleeve of his long sleeve shirt. And then the young smuggler waits.
cast me into your fire, your fire 'cause i'll never be less than what you want
It feels good to walk this way again; the path never quite so grown over as it is now, nor their ‘activities’ so few and far between. It isn’t sadness that grips Raza’s heart, because she’s never been a sad person, it’s more resignation at a sign of the times and that nostalgia for way back when, when the Governor was bribeable and they didn’t answer to a fuckin’ herald. When Zeph was around. Or something like that.
She comes bearing gifts - brandy ain’t her thing - dark hand gripping an even darker bottle. The good whiskey. Just below top-shelf, if you know your booze. With a soft hum of greeting to Jack, she takes in Milo and Adam, with that last one a surprise. “Boys,” the bar owner says with a nod an’ a grin. Grabbing a glass, she holds it to a candle, runs her shirt around the rim a couple of times, looks again, and deems it clean enough. In goes the warm brown liquid, and then the bottle sits on top of the keg as Raza takes a seat.
08-21-2021, 12:26 PM (This post was last modified: 08-21-2021, 12:26 PM by Maeve.)
My dear, we're slow dancing in a burning room
Did Jack need to send her a fancy letter to the Court of Stars addressed specifically to her? No, he didn't, but Maeve loves that he did. She's yet to attempt entering Rae's Fingers for good reason. It's treacherous at best and she can't swim for shit. The directions provided by Jack are thankfully easy enough to follow and with Aidon at her side, she has no real fear of getting lost, knowing that he'll be able to get her back home easily. Still, finding her way through the caves heavily pregnant is easier said than done and there is no longer any hiding the swell of her belly.
Maeve offers Jack a nod and Milo gets much the same, "Captain..." She hums softly in greeting. Raza receives a faint smile, but it is Adam who gets the biggest one as she finds home next to him, leaning into his side for support and knowing that she'll find it there. She wonders vaguely if Locke will show or perhaps Aurelia, but her focus settles on the Captain of the Ark, letting a free hand fall to the top of Aidon's head.
Speak of the devil, or curiosity killed the cat. Something like that. He's not entirely comfortable in the confines of Rae's Fingers after his last trip down here. But one should never be comfortable in the presence of, you know, thieves and whatnot. The only face that really surprises him is Maeve but he doesn't comment on her presence. Nor the way she's leaning against Adam, at least he thinks that's his name. He gave her his blessing and it's not his place to care anymore. Even if he does.
He bites it down, giving Jack and Milo half-hearted waves and tucking himself against the wall. He's perfectly capable of talking now, he's just got nothing to say really. Save for Maeve, he doesn't know anyone here all that well. That works for him though. Business relationships are far easier to deal with in the long run.
Eating fire is your ambition to swallow the flame down
It’d been a long time since any gathering amongst the Smugglers. But Melita knew the interfolds of the message, of the notes scattered and sent, placing it within her pockets and ambling forth. The Fingers were familiar, given how many times she’d ventured in and out of it (fighting monsters, mostly), and took no time at all to find the pathways, to lift the candles and blow them out as she went along.
A modest crowd had already formed, and she nodded to each, grabbing hold of a bottle of brandy on her way by the table – though her eyes widened curiously at Maeve’s presence, she said naught about it. Thereafter, she skipped herself over to a seat, ready and able to listen, presuming Jack had taken hold and command of this lot too.
to be lit up from within, vein by vein to be the sun
They all come filtering in, offering greetings in varying ways - a smile here, a remark there, and Jack offers barely a nod in response. Only when he knows no one else is going to find their way to the hideout (he'd only handed out so many messages) does he rise to his feet and stretch. "So," he says. "We went away and shit's all gone to shit." Sorry about it, Maeve and Raza, but from a smuggling standpoint, it's true.
"No Zeph any more, just me. So if you got a problem with it you can fuck off now." Slinking over to lean against one of the cave walls, he looks between them. "The Ark still supplies the Halenani and the Hanged Man with a lot of their goods, legal or otherwise, so I assume there ain't no problem there, and that we're not gonna be stopped from operatin' as usual in Torchline?" He raises his eyebrows at the madame. That's agenda item numero uno, especially if he's expected to be the chief of fuckin' whatever.
"We got all of Deepfrost to settle in to the new world order. I'll only offer this once - anyone want on or off the Ark? If we're gonna shake up the crew I'm doin' it with plenty of time to spare."
you are a quiet god and your hunger is cavernous
Jack being an Abandoned is common knowledge these days, however his Telepathy remains a well-kept secret:
Magic: Passive Telepathy | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 30ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
Type: Grey | Rank: Mastered
Also branded with a small star tattoo beneath his left eye.
A quick scan around and Milo does offer a dip of his head to Maeve as she nods to him but mostly keeps to himself. He takes note of Aurelia’s absence, working his jaw quietly as his bronze gaze remains forward, focused on Jack as if he knows what’s coming next. He doesn’t, but it helps to keep his focus while he waits for the questions to be announced.
There’s a small twitch of a frown at the mention of Zephyr’s disappearance and he shuffles his feet a fraction in his slight discomfort, but it does have a boost as Jack mentions things had gone to shit while they were away. But when it comes to the Ark, Milo doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t even have to think about it as he sits up a bit straighter, leaning forward on his elbows. “’m gonna stay with th’Ark.” He offers to Jack – one less kid to run through the tunnels, but one gained healer on the Ark, eager to learn, eager to have his own stories, even if he missed his bed more often than not.
cast me into your fire, your fire 'cause i'll never be less than what you want
Eating fire is your ambition to swallow the flame down
Melita didn’t have much to say – her eyes roaming back and forth between the cast of characters present, pondering over what all these shifting roles meant. That Maeve was here and not Aurelia was something else to consider (wouldn’t she be the most familiar with the whole lot of them?), furrowing her brows vaguely, taking her drink in hand and sipping quietly. But for the moment, she had no intentions of leaving either the ship or the Smuggler’s Guild – announcing it with her usual spark of pride. “Staying with the Ark.” The inquiry within her mind, as to where they’d be going next, stayed put for now, waiting for some other proportions or declarations to be made.
to be lit up from within, vein by vein to be the sun
08-29-2021, 10:05 PM (This post was last modified: 08-31-2021, 08:36 PM by Maeve.)
My dear, we're slow dancing in a burning room
As soon as Jack begins to speak, Maeve straightens herself up, arms wrapping protectively about her middle to keep out the chill of the damp cave and the cool air around them. She shakes her head, meeting his gaze for but a moment, "No, there will be no interference from myself or Aurelia." The Nightshade confirms, knowing that's what he's looking for and also knowing that if they want his cooperation it's something they need to give him now.
She can deal with that. Smuggling is a part of Torchline and who else will provide them goods if she cuts off Jack's operation? No one would be brave enough to cross him. The Captain gets to work and Torchline benefits. That's all there is to it.
That’s the only logical reason for Raza bein’ out of Torchline an’ riding horses an’ ropin’ Unicorns.
She snorts and murmurs not-too-quietly into her glass, “Yeaaaaah, fuck this war shit.” She ain’t the leader. That ain’t on her head. Casting a glance towards Maeve, both for her bein’ here and because she still has some mixed feelings about the two women who go ‘round callin’ themselves Queens, but it doesn’t stay on her long.
“An’ I’ll stay off the Ark,” she says, before glancin’ at the only one’a them who hadn’t spoken up yet: Adam. Personally, she thinks an Ascended might have some problems on a ship in the daytime, but then again - he might make the best night watchmen, so - who knows?
They're seeing a Queen but he's seeing someone who's at least a Torcher back in power. Pseudo power at least. He won't comment though. He's got too much other shit to deal with right now. Speaking of, the Ark. Or rather his time on the Ark. "Won't be going this round Jack. Got some business to attend to." He makes an active point of not looking anywhere but at Jack. They don't need to know, right? "Can help get supplies ready for you though." A small suggestion but it's what he's got. Plus, someone's gotta appreciate the pies he plans on sneaking aboard, right?
Speed up to the precipice and then slam on the brakes
Some people crash two or three times and then learn from their mistakes
A veritable flood of other ne'er-do-wells came through the door, some of which he recognised. Adam gave the appropriate waves and nods and smiles; as Maeve sat next to him he put an arm around her shoulders and scuffled her hair (lightly - he knew the expense a good hairstyle took) fondly. Did he notice the look from Locke? Maybe, but he didn't show it. Wasn't like there was anything untoward happening anyway.
The option to go out on the Ark was not one that appealed to him. He'd never been a boat guy. As sexy as a pirate aesthetic was, Adam wasn't going to be very suave if he spent all his time puking.
"I got good legs, but they aren't sea legs. I'll stay here. Talk people into things you need. Threaten this one into allowing things and so on." He said, pointing to Maeve with a smirk.
We are the ones who don't slow down at all
And there's nobody there to catch us when we fall
