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!
Being a jaguar is pretty good, actually. Isla has lazed around in the cradle of trees in the Oerwoud; she's preened and preened some more, she's caught a fish in the river and played with it for a bit, and now? Now she's found the Brittlebone Bridge, her ears pricking here and there at the sound of the plants creaking, the vines waving at either side of the structure like something is about to go peeping through it.
Huffing out a sound that's not not a growl, the jaguar prowls forward and scents the ground, tail swaying lazily from left to right and back again. She thinks she's heard stories about this place somewhere, maybe. About not parting the vines or something. Either way, she's got little interest in it, whiskers twitching as she makes her loping way across.
Like the serpent that eats its own tail, round and round Remi goes in the neverending circle of his grief, flaying off more bits of his soul with every rotation.
With eyelashes made clumpy by tears and a full picnic basket loosely held in the remaining fingers of his right hand, Remi walks the bridge swaying like a drunkard despite being completely sober. 'Do not part the vines...' He muses. '..do not look down.' Oh but why not. What greater misfortune might he possibly encounter out here? Little did he realize that said misfortunate was currently prowling about, darting her way through the mists and across the bridge directly toward him.
Pausing at the sound of paws thudding dully against the wood boards, Remi cocks his head slightly to the side as he listens. Partially shifting enough that he might roar a warning into the mist, the alchemist grips his basket slightly tighter.
THE ALCHEMIST
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
She'd know that roar anywhere, and yet when it first hits the air it has Isla's ears pinning, her lips pulling back in a silent snarl. She can't roar back, but when it does register to her, who the sound belongs to, she finds herself continuing to prowl forward. Maybe it's a little more low to the ground, the purposeful movements of a predator on the hunt rather than one on an amble through the jungle, but it's forward nonetheless.
And when the bridge does curve enough that she spots the Lullaby, although it clenches her heart in her chest and makes her want to run to him just as much as run away from him, she holds steady. It's not a growl so much as a grumble that leaves the thick ruff of fur around her neck, and - in a display that would probably surprise most travellers, but likely not Remi - she plonks herself down to sit on her haunches.
Watching the prowly feline suddenly sit, has Remi pulling in an understanding breath and releasing the tension in his shoulders. An attuned, then. Rubbing between his eyebrows with the back of one hand, he tries to keep his grief at bay long enough to form some coherent excuse about why said attuned should fuck the fuck off.
Not really in the mood to chat. The Lullaby offers, and though his face speaks of sadness and tears, his mental voice at least is slightly steadier. Sorry. He adds, not that he is, but Ronin's lesson about lying to seem friendly and nice seemed to apply here. Even so, the attuned bond would give away much of what he wasn't saying despite the lie, not that Remi was terribly worried about it.
THE ALCHEMIST
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Isla can't really respond to the Attuned bond without giving everything away regardless - in her voice and in her emotions, and the spike of nerves and worry that rush primarily to the fore when she sees the state of Remi will probably already give a heavy hint. And so she shifts back - albeit reluctantly, because she was quite enjoying being a jaguar - leaving her crouched on the bridge. Not that she stays there for long, straightening up and smoothing out her clothes.
"Hello, Remi," she murmurs. "I didn't realise that you were out here. I'll leave you be." And she moves to stand aside for him, because she might be happy to leave him alone but she isn't going to turn around and walk back the way she came. Remi doesn't own the jungle.
It doesn't happen so fast that Remi doesn't have time to realize what's going on, but sadness has a way of making everything feel slow and lacklustre such that it's only as Isla is smoothing down her shirt that he finally gasps his realization. 'This is the last place I expected to bump into you.' He replies unhelpfully, his surprise momentarily masking his dispair as he continues to gawk at the Remedy as if she might just be a mirage.
"Oh..right." Watching as she stepped aside, flattening herself against the rope-railing for him to pass, Remi awkwardly shifts his basket from one hand to the other that he might pass by her more easily. It will be a tight fit, and one he doesn't particularly relish, which is perhaps why he finds himself holding his breath and sucking in his stomach as much as he's able (not much at all) as he tries to squeeze past.
Trying not to think or feel or see anything (despite thinking, feeling, and seeing everything), his eyeline above her head and his eyelashes fluttering uncomfortably, it's only as he passes her that he finds himself pausing, his feet weighed down with some sinking feeling. "A jaguar.." He says softly, turning his head slightly over his shoulder. "Then...you don't have any of my shifts anymore." It's an observation, but also a question he supposes. Despite the dissolution of their friendship, he would never stop caring about Isla. Would never stop wanting to keep her safe, only now that seemed an impossible and probably unnecessary thing.
THE ALCHEMIST
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
"Same," Isla murmurs, deciding not to say that's kind of why I came here because at this point it would just be catty. And hell, maybe she'd have said it anyway if it weren't for the fact that Remi looks like someone has just died. She doesn't need to squish herself anywhere more than she already has, letting the Lullaby squeeze past without making eye contact.
And that ought to be it, if it weren't for Remi speaking up again. "No, I don't. I haven't for a while," she murmurs, glancing back at him. "Why, is that a problem?" He'd returned her vial of fluid - she hadn't expected this to be the thing that snags him in the conversation. "I couldn't keep it forever. Things are getting bad."
Spots of colour appear on his tear-tight cheeks as Isla asks if it's a problem. After how they'd left things and the vial of fluid passed between them it's no great surprise that her tone is what it is, but with the day he's had thus far Remi isn't exactly thinking clearly. So it is that he takes her question a good deal more harshly than it was likely meant. 'No, I just—are they?' Turning, his green eyes wide with concern and worry, it takes a few beats longer than it should for him to realize that such questions were absolutely not his place to be asking. Not with who and what each of them was to one another and the rest of the world. But Remi had forgotten himself amidst the blue of Isla's stare; some things just couldn't be helped.
"Sorry." He murmurs latently, meaning it this time, as his gaze flinches away from her face, lingering on the vines that cage them in instead.
THE ALCHEMIST
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
She's taken aback by his concern, and it shows all over her face, Isla pausing to face him fully, as if trying to find the barb or the trick in his words. "Yeah, they are," she whispers at last, finding it impossible not to tell him the truth. He'd been her best friend for so long, and then more than that, and she can't leave him in the dark even if she'd wanted to. "Murder, kidnapping... crazy priests. LongNight monsters sneaking through portals. It's been a time."
Dropping her gaze, Isla can only shake her head softly to him. "I'm sorry too. What's... are you alright? You look like something bad has happened," she says, shifting her weight from foot to foot as if that might go some way towards taking her closer to him.
01-05-2022, 07:10 PM (This post was last modified: 01-05-2022, 07:12 PM by Remi.)
you trace my lines, stirring my soul
Remi's gaze grows considerably more surprised the more she lists until he too finds himself squarely facing her with his mouth partiality open. "I...had no idea." They were neighbours after all, and though the Greatwood and Grounds now acted like oil and water, still he was surprised to have heard nothing. "Is...I suppose asking if everyone is alright is a stupid question." Remi realizes, shaking his head.
Resisting the urge to say that something bad has always happened, the alchemist just swallows back a fresh pang of regret and self-loathing as he closed his eyes against the pinprick of tears and shakes his head. "It's fine." He mumbles lamely; apparently Remi was still able to lie to Isla even if she couldn't lie to him.
"I..uhm.." Stalling for time just as she was stalling for space, Remi opens his eyes. "The note I'd sent, about avoiding the festival..." Feeling heat rise to his cheeks, Remi rubs at a tear-track with his shoulder. "..iI didn't know it was a relic." He explains, having just now realized that Isla might have thought his WaRnInG had been a misdirection that he might get yet another relic. "I swear I didn't know."
THE ALCHEMIST
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
"For the most part, I think. Alive, if not alright." For the most part. She'd hear more about that when she got back to the Grounds, little does she know. "But it's not really a surprise, I suppose. Things were hardly going to get better." For now she suspects they will rally further behind their defences - and the sooner those are complete, the better.
Lying through words while the truth shines out on one's face isn't really lying it at all, and Isla finds herself reaching out for Remi before she stops herself, leaving her hand ridiculously hanging in the air before it drops back to her side. "Oh, it... It doesn't matter either way," she mutters about the relic, shaking her head. "We have so few of them, I doubt it would have made a difference at this point." They are primed for slaughter, thereabouts.
"Were you meeting someone out here?" She gestures to his full basket. "I wouldn't want to take up your time."
He should have counted on Isla to lay things bare, but still there's something raw about the way she so succinctly puts it. "You are right, of course." Remi agrees. Apparently they'd moved on from lamenting the oncoming war to dealing with the harsh reality that it was already here.
Watching her move as if in slow motion, Remi's mind dresses Isla in the ridiculous (and beautiful) ballgown she'd worn on their date, and he feels his breath hitch painfully in his throat at the memory. Blinking hard that she might be forced back into her plain-clothes, the Lullaby watches her fingers reach for him, before dropping back to her side. Smiling sadly and wondering at what level of strength tears ceased to be so painful, Remi's damaged fingers twitch at his side, not knowing how to reach out and take hers.
"Well, the Order only has one if that makes you feel any better." Remi murmurs, before turning to look at the basket in his hand. "Oh, no...it was for Ronin and I, but he...went home. I suppose you wouldn't care for a sandwich or some gin?" He offers, before reeling against the brief lightness in his voice that has his stomach clenching.
THE ALCHEMIST
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
It doesn't make her feel any better, not really, because the Order also has a bunch of demigods on its side and any of those could take out some Ascended with or without a relic. She doesn't say that, though, because awkward as this all is, Isla has missed Remi, and for all of her posturing and suggestions, she doesn't want him to go. "He went home without eating?" Her eyebrows do raise at that, and she can't help the smile to hear the sudden levity in his tone of voice.
"It isn't the same any more, since I stopped being able to taste it," she admits. "But I appreciate the offer all the same. You feel free, though, if that's what you want." Her smile feels like it's about to crack, Isla huffing out a shuddering breath that quickly becomes a gasp as her gaze finally drops to his hand. "Remi, what has happened to your fingers?" she asks, concern knotting through her words.
01-05-2022, 07:44 PM (This post was last modified: 01-05-2022, 07:46 PM by Remi.)
you trace my lines, stirring my soul
Remi raises his eyebrows and nods as if Ronin going home without eating said as much about Ronin's state of mind as Remi's red-rimmed eyes did. And, for anyone who knew Ronin, it absolutely did.
"Thanks, but I am okay too. I would probably just throw it up." Remi admits, and though toeing the line of familiarity was impossible not to do, gods but it hurt. Every word had tears snarling at the back of Remi's eyes such that he was forced to continually bite the inside of his cheek or tongue to try and force his mind onto something simple and pure like physical pain.
Frowning, Remi follows Isla's gaze down to his hand where he flexes his remaining fingers and thumb. "Oh...a dinosaur bit them off." He mumbles, turning his hand palm up where the scarring from the bite was more pronounced. "It has taken some getting used to." Remi adds with a slight shrug, before holding out his hand for her inspection.
THE ALCHEMIST
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
