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!
01-05-2022, 02:15 AM (This post was last modified: 01-05-2022, 02:16 AM by Wessex.)
you wouldn't even recognize me anymore
not that you knew me back then
Lighter, exhausted in so many ways, and still aware that she can’t yet stop, Wessex returns to the Grounds in a quiet flicker. She checks to make sure the Knowt book is still in its place before hurrying up to the doors of the Town Hall and disappearing inside. She knows she’ll be able to clean up there, but before she can even think about the bath Daphne will draw for her (for old time’s sake, perhaps), she sends out a quick message to Isla, Bastien, and Cal - the Grounds’ council.
Can you please meet me at Town Hall? It’s important.
Isla might have an inkling about the subject matter, but as the Wraith quickly undresses to sink into the hot water and she catches sight of the book again, she has to shake her head. None of them will expect this. Even she hasn’t really looked at it yet, hasn’t fully grasped its capabilities and the information it might already hold. All the better to figure it out - together. Like a family.
She doesn’t linger long in the water, preferring to be ready and downstairs (and she is, hair still damp and slicked back) when her siblings arrive.
An important meeting with Wessex usually meant something big was happening, and often that thing was bad. Bastien's face had set into a grim acceptance by the time he made it to the Theskyra house, but on the way there his mind had been racing with possibilities. Wessex was often out on missions he had not even the faintest inkling about, working for the Voice on the gritty and difficult parts of their fight to be accepted - she could bring any kind of news.
All he could hope for was that no one had been hurt. For just a second, he let himself panic that Az had been hurt, but he quickly shook that idea out. If there was something seriously wrong, he had to be put together.
"Wessex. What's wrong?" He asked as he walked in, surprised to find he was the first one to arrive.
honey, i rose up from the dead. i do it all the time
He and Isla receive the message at the same time, a little radio sense going off as his head lifts and he looks to Isla to make sure she’d heard it too. It still takes him some getting used to, the idea that someone can just ESPN broadcast into his head, but regardless, it has to be important at the end of the day. So he gathers his things, makes sure he’s dressed appropriately for Longheat’s temperatures even if his body does well to keep everything cool – the metal arm soaks in a surprising amount of heat – before he laces his fingers with Isla and they head toward the Town Hall.
They’re the last ones there, though, arriving just shortly after Bastien does – the assassin offering the artist a dip of his chin in greeting before his hand squeezes Isla’s and his attention focuses on Wessex, wondering what had happened. “What happened?” He asks, because Bastien has the ‘what’s wrong’ covered and if it’s as important as it suddenly feels, he doesn’t want to prolong it out any longer than it needs to be.
Wessex is right - Isla does have an inkling about what this might all be regarding, but she's got no idea what she's in for. Arriving with her fingers laced in Varus's and with the sort of expression a doctor wears when they have bad news to give you, she offers a quick nod between Bastien and the Wraith. Without wasting time, she moves to seat herself somewhere lest what Wessex has to say bowls her over entirely, tucking a lock of fair hair behind her ear.
"We are all ears," she assures the other woman, watching her carefully not just for any sign of injury, but also for whatever she's here to tell or show them. If it had been simple information it would have been a single way broadcast. This, though. This rings of discussions.
01-06-2022, 01:08 AM (This post was last modified: 01-06-2022, 01:13 AM by Wessex.)
you wouldn't even recognize me anymore
not that you knew me back then
She’d love to answer Bastien’s question, but it’s pointless to do so without Isla and Cal present, so she just gives him a tight-lipped, very fake smile and shakes her head. “Let’s wait till we’re all here” She can’t physically develop any more crows feet or worry lines, but if she could, he might see more than he’s used to tonight. Luckily, the lovers-slash-council-members are hot on the Dionysian’s heels. Once they’re all seated, once she can feel all eyes on her ever as she looks down at the polished wood of the table, trying to figure out where to start.
Looking up at the other three, the Wraith finally opens her mouth. “I’m not sure how far back to go,” she begins, “Or if letters came, or who’s told whom what. So if there are things that don’t make sense, please hold them till the end and then I’ll answer as best I can.” Had Aurelia made it? Did the Remedy talk to Cal about these things, or to the Dionysian? All unknown, and yet she must begin somewhere, so the General takes a small, needless breath, and begins.
“I’d noticed Mabel was missing for a while. And I searched in Halo, in the Feverlands, in the Grounds… everywhere, it seemed. Nowhere to be found. So when I went to the Voice a few days ago,” had it been that recently? The phrase gives her pause and she has to confirm it for herself before continuing. “She told me Mabel was weak, and in Stormbreak. Along with several others of our siblings, who were mostly offline. I was able to talk to her, but it wasn’t enough, I couldn’t find her until they had her… in a box. The Priest, Gideon, and the Eye, Cian. Order members. From what I gather, and I still don’t quite understand the sequence of events, but Mabel found out that Gideon murdered Evelyn. And then… they took her?” shaking her head, Wessex finds it’s still a bit muddy in her head.
Perhaps she should have pressed the girl harder, tried to get more of the story out. Her tone grows sad and a little softer, remembering her sister’s rambling, nonsensical words and her pleas to go home. “Back to Stormbreak. Hid her somewhere in stone. She wasn’t very coherent at that point.” A duck of her head, briefly, before resuming. “But like I said, I did find them, eventually. They were loading her and some other boxes on to a skyboat. So I snuck on and went with them. It took them to the Draig.”
How to describe the screech of dragons and the smell of burnt flesh? They’d all been through LongNights here (except Cal), it both was and wasn’t as bad as that. “It turns out there were other people in those boxes.” She turns to Bastien suddenly, as he’d been in the Grounds the longest with her. “Do you remember that redheaded singer? The Outlander? I can’t remember her name, but her hair, and her face - I remember she was gorgeous. They strapped her to some kind of wheeling contraption and sent her into the Dragon’s meadow. Some kind of distraction, from what I gathered. She was burned alive.”
“And then they brought out Mabel, and to her credit, our sister fought like a hellcat.” She has to smile at the teenagers continual defiance, because that’s how she wants to remember the Occidendum twins. As scrappy, determined fighters, who got really fucking unlucky. “I tried to distract them, grab her, and teleport out, but Cian knew my trick and then this purple dragon, I think, zapped me further away.” The dragons still don’t make much sense to her - but they will, soon enough. “And that’s when the Voice took over Mabel’s body. She denounced Cian, said his Tower of bones will crumble, and then electrocuted him. It wasn’t enough, though. Mabel still died. I don’t know if she wasn’t strong enough to host our Goddess or if this gray dragon killed her.”
Wessex’s voice seems to shrink into something half its usual size, guilt and her own selfish truth growing like a tumor in her chest. “But I failed. I couldn’t save her.” She takes a big breath again and shakes her head. “And I couldn’t kill Gideon for what he did. I will, though. I promised Mabel I’d get revenge for both of them. Gideon fled using his compass, and I… left with Cian’s body. I lost everything else on me - chakram, cloak, anything in a pocket - but I did gain this.” She pulls out the Knowtbook from an interior pocket and places it gently on the table.
“Cian had a book that could tell him about events right after they happened. Or maybe as they were happening. Things he couldn’t possibly know if. I think this is it. Though to be honest, I haven’t looked at it yet.” Can’t quite tell if it’s worth it the losses. Not yet.
With that long(ish) story done, Wessex shifts forward and places clasped hands on the table in front of her, behind the book. “So that’s what happened. Mabel is dead. The head of the Order is dead. Gideon is not." I've lost some very valuable items and have no idea if I can get them back or where they went, "... And we have this book. And some shit I overheard.” So now it's up to the four of them to figure out how to proceed.
Isla sits, and she listens, and if she'd thought there was a lot to digest with the letter, it's nothing compared to this. "I haven't had the chance to disperse much information," she says; between the timing of Aurelia's arrival and Wessex's return, it's been a whirlwind. Letting her head sink into her hands as if this might help, she has to wait for the ringing in her ears to die back before she speaks again.
"We should look in that notebook. If that's what you say it is, this could be a turning point for us," she says, dropping her hands and blinking a couple of times to clear her gaze. "You said that there were others in Stormbreak and on the ship. Do you know what happened to them? Are they dead? Are they still in Stormbreak?" That's the first thing to deal with.
honey, i rose up from the dead. i do it all the time
It’s a good thing Wessex tells them to hold their questions until the end, because if she hadn’t, Varus would be interjecting nearly every other minute. The information is given, and it’s – it’s a fucking lot of information at once, and even Varus is reeling, moving to sit on the chair beside Isla’s – his metal hand pulling his hair away from his face before it trails lower to rub at his jaw, his oceanic gaze never leaving Wessex – not even blinking.
Calculating, as collected as he can be given all of this.
“So first off, we now know we can go to Stormbreak…” He trails off, letting the positives reach the forefront first. “And that should we be in mortal danger with good positioning, the Voice can take us over…” Within good reason, he imagines. He knows his goddess enough to know that she doesn’t do it willy nilly. No, the option to kill the Eye had likely been the reason she’d done it in the first place. All the Voice had taught Varus was that she valued their abilities to be their own people, to love her for letting them have a choice where so many others forced their hand one way or another.
And despite Wessex having lost her items, an unfortunate event, they had gained a boon. And Isla is quick to ask about the others, about looking at the notebook, and Varus already agrees with it – leaning over to rest his hand on her shoulder, his thumb rubbing in soothing circles. “What’s the shit you overheard?”
Ah. So her note had made it through. A small smile threatens to burst through the General’s solemn countenance - a temporary flare of brightness in the heavy room - but it feels like too much for the moment so she just nods. “I’m glad Aurelia made it to you.” It had been somewhat of a Hail Mary after she’d been denied a favor the prior year and, well - she’ll have to go visit the Torcher and deliver her thanks in person. Later.
Wessex gives them all the time they need to process what she’s told them; from Isla and Cal’s reactions alone it seems like it all might border on overwhelming. She wants to grab their hands - all three of them - and apologize and pull them close (perhaps more for her own comfort than theirs) and tell them that it’ll all be okay. Even when they know it won’t be.
“I don’t think they made it. No one responded except for Mabel. I tried to tell them how to respond, in case it was just a technically thing, but never got anything other than static and silence.” So she hadn’t wasted her time looking for them or trying to bring back their bodies. Wesesx’s gaze falls from Isla’s face to the table and she blinks away a sudden harsh, guilty welling of emotion. “The boxes and Mabel’s body are still in the Draig. We carried everything off the skyboat and then it headed back to Stormbreak.”
Cal’s question is important, too, and strategic. “They were trying to get to Caido’s Lighthouse. The hunt for the relics is supposedly to help us get past what’s in the Draig - but the real prize - or something important - is up there.”
Bastien was not a fighter nor a leader and had spent much of the discussion so far in a thoughtful, melancholy silence, his fingers pressed up against his mouth and his eyes on the table before him as Wessex said her piece. He only mouthed 'Lily' as Wessex met his eyes, a horror dawning on his face as he heard what had become of her.
"Gods..." He finally said, sighing and looking up at the others around the table. "I know I have less to offer in terms of practicality here, but I will be sure to work on a memorial space for Lily and Mabel both." It was something he could do - small, but important in a different way. "...But I do have another idea."
Bastien swallowed, collected his nerves. He was not often scared, but this idea that had been floating around in his mind for a while was so dangerous it terrified even him. "I am able to hide my fangs. Originally I was just intending to use this to speak with those opposed to the Ascended elsewhere, but...if we can truly enter Stormbreak as you say..." He paused and looked directly as Wessex. "As far as I know, the Order do not know my face. Do not know me to be an Ascended. If that is true, I could enter Stormbreak and search for anything useful. Perhaps even take a relic. Would such a mission be useful?"
Nodding at Bastien's suggestion of a memorial - perhaps for all the Ascended lost at the Draig, including Lily and Mabel - Isla turns to raise her eyebrows at him as he continues. It's a very good idea, in fact, though her excitement is tempered by some unpleasant knowledge. "Stormbreak has plenty of demigods about, Bastien. Even without your fangs, are you sure some old friends wouldn't recognise you...?"
Her attention is soon stolen, though, by the last point Wessex makes. "...What?" Her pebble blues grow wide. "The relics are to get through the Draig?" If that is the case, they're... well, they're in a lot of trouble, given how many they've got compared to the Old Gods. "What kind of prize could even be up there? Something that would win the war?"
honey, i rose up from the dead. i do it all the time
All the information is dispersed and Varus finds himself grinding his teeth, the metal hand lowering to his lap as he clenches and unclenches it in thought – trying to get the gears in his brain working. His oceanic gaze drifts to Bastien’s suggestion, a good idea initially if it weren’t for those that might recognize them. He’s not sure any other options, though, especially grimacing as Wessex mentions Mabel was the only one who answered. “Is it possible they were just… Shut down? Like I was?” Not necessarily gone but hibernating?
Would the Order even know about that?
As for the Draig, his gaze flickers to Isla now – softening on her as her questions hit the air. “Do you think the last relic might be Caido themself?” He asks softly, perhaps a bit rhetorically, but… Caido’s lighthouse? Caido having gone missing? Something wasn’t adding up.
Lily. Of course. That was her name. She hadn’t seen the woman for years, but - the Dionysian is clearly upset. A memorial sounds lovely - he’ll get no pushback there, and she nods along with Isla in agreement.
And Bastien? Bless his heart, he has more to offer. Knowing full well that the Ambassador doesn’t usually volunteer himself for such things makes his offer all the more noble. Wessex smiles gratefully, one hand coming up to her heart in a ‘touched’ gesture before saying anything. Isla beats her to it, of course, but she has a potential solution. “I have a magic that would complement that if you really want to go. You’d be able to change your entire appearance with it, as long as you can hide your fangs, it’s very possible no one would know. Except for your voice, of course… depends who you talked to.” Pausing briefly, she holds up a finger. “I do have someone who might be working on getting us Stormbreak information as well, and they seem loyal for all the right reasons, but I can’t tell if they’re reliable yet.”
So he can take that as he wants, but the offer is there, to aid his fact-finding mission, should he choose to move forward with it.
As for the rest of the Ascended still lying in their boxes? And the thing in the Draig? All Wessex can do is offer a helpless shrug and quiet “I don’t know,” to both Isla and Cal and their questions. The mysteries grow and once again, frustration swells and she has to squash it back down again. The loss of knowledge - it was all such bullshit. With her gaze on the item in front of her, she finally offers “I suggest we take a look at the book. If it’s the right one, it might have some of the answers.”
And with that, the General reaches for it, hoping that she’s done at least one thing right lately.
When it came to being recognised by Demi-Gods such as Remi or Ronin, something Bastien hadn't considered, he thankfully had a quick answer: "The upgrade allows me to change other parts of my appearance as well." In a moment he had a different nose, new eyes, bright orange hair. "This and some new clothing...or perhaps this magic Wessex speaks of, and I'll be able to blend in."
The whole idea was terrifying, but this was something he could do to help. He'd always had the gift of speaking more than fighting, knew how to make friends. "If I go - what would we want to learn from it? What information do we need from them? ...Should I attempt to do anything greater than gather information?" This question was mostly directed at Wessex, as their de facto leader.
Perhaps it's the medic in her that has her wanting to keep a somewhat defensive position, but Isla can't help the curl of discomfort at Bastien actually going to creep around Stormbreak. If they were anywhere else she'd have reached for Varus's hand, but alas, this is not the time or place. "You say you have another person going to Stormbreak for information... Would it be worth seeing if they turn anything up first, if they're reliable?" she asks.
To Bastien, she offers an apologetic smile. "It isn't that I think you incapable," she says softly, "I'm just aware that we are few, and the Old God followers are many. If anything goes wrong, they'd likely kill you on sight, as they have with the others Wessex spoke about."
Whatever lies at the top of the Draig fades into white noise in comparison to this immediate issue, and she sits up a bit to look at Wessex as she reaches for the notebook. "Hopefully it will push us in the right direction."
