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 little stone is blue...ish. Perhaps a bit dark in comparison to the brilliant aquamarine ocean, though it is hard to compare the smooth horizon with the irregular texture anyway. It is streaked with plenty of discolorations, here a crusty white and there an intermittent mossy color. When held to the light of the sun, it does have a bit of an azure sheen. It is certainly unique.
But is it worthy?
It rolls from a pair of calloused fingers and into a considering palm, which bobs up and down to test the weight of it. Dark eyes peer appraisingly down at it from beneath the shadow of a stag skull mask, which is removed from where it usually covers their scarred face to be perched atop their head like a shady hat. They frown, unable to decide whether to throw the peculiar rock or keep it.
Their expression shifts into a mild panic as they hear a noise from behind. Quickly they move the mask to cover their face, hiding the stone within their fist.
"An' if I didn' kiss the girls, my lips would grow all moldy," Pihu chanted in a bellow. She practically skipped down the beach as she sang, her voice more enthusiastic than talented. Still, it was a sea shanty and power was almost (but not quite) more important than technique or artistry.
Barefoot, dressed in a loose skirt and a blouse, a bottle dangled from the fingers of her left hand. As she spotted the figure ahead she paused in her singing. Taking a swig, the Attuned shaded her eyes as she tried to figure out what the silhouette by the water's edge actually was. Finally she just shrugged and approached the eclectically dressed woman. "Ye making a wish?" The thief jerked her chin at the Miana Pool.
They say these are the golden years But I wish I could disappear
Brownish sleeves billow in the sea breeze, in gentle rhythm with the layers of dark skirts that are heaped around Chaele’s legs. A tattered cloak is folded upon the rocky ledge, like a little bed for the well-worn pack that sits atop it. A small, dull dagger sits at its side, a promise of caution and protection as the masked woman turns to regard the approaching singer.
They glance down again at the stone in their hand, tossing it up and catching it down in an awkward, attentive motion. Their mouth, partially visible behind the chipped molars of their mask. “I suppose so,” is the pensive reply as their fingers curl possessively back around their little prize. Shadowed eyes glance at the bottle in the stranger's hand, then back to her face. “Are you?”
04-14-2022, 03:53 AM (This post was last modified: 04-14-2022, 03:54 AM by Pihu.)
Pihu
Pihu's eyes took in the skirts, the mask, the dagger, and the cloak. Raising her eyebrows at the other woman, the raven's lips curled into something halfway between a grin and a smirk. "Aren't ye warm in that getup? I know it's Leafchange but it's still hotter than Safrin's starry tits." She scratched under an armpit.
As the stranger loooked at the bottle in the thief's hand, she held it out for the other woman to take if she wanted. Shrugging at the question, Pihu shook her head. "Nah. I prefer to make my own luck." She jerked her chin at the pool. "'Sides, how's some bird supposed to bring me good fortune?"
They say these are the golden years But I wish I could disappear
They look at the bottle for a moment, long enough to reveal a small streak of inner conflict, but ultimately shake their head and raise a hand in gentle refusal. Their gaze follows Pihu’s to the pool, a calm inhalation bringing the warm salt air into their lungs. “Perhaps I will not wish for fortune. Perhaps I will wish for a worthy challenge. Or a nice meal. Or the knowledge of the temperature of Safrin’s tits.”
A flat intonation rides through the final words, but their glance back up at the other woman sparkles with amusement. “Tell me, how does one make luck?”
04-14-2022, 01:45 PM (This post was last modified: 04-14-2022, 01:46 PM by Pihu.)
Pihu
Shrugging at the stranger's decision not to take the bottle, Pihu took another swig. It was rum, and she smiled as it burned down her throat. "That last one ye could always ask her yerself." She sniggered. "An' if yer looking for the first two ye'd do better just walking down the streets of Haulani than tossing some rock into a pool."
Shrugging at the question, she waved the bottle around. "By getting really, really good at assessin' risk and reward." Walking forward, she came to stand next to the other woman by the edge of the pool. "Everything has some chance of risk and some reward, so if ye know that the risk is worth the reward ye go for it." The raven shot a look at the stranger.
They say these are the golden years But I wish I could disappear
"And what is the risk of speaking to a stranger in this empty place, so far away from home? Of drinking near the ocean, which is known to wash away the unwary?" Their bony hand stretches toward the space beside the other woman's bare feet, an invitation. "Or of sitting next to a woman in a strange get up?"
There is a stark amusement in their tone, the kind that withholds a private joke. It would be easy enough to practice their knifework on this one, Chaele muses, or to see if a drunken mind would fail to detect a subtle draining of life. But such plans require patience and observation first. In the meantime, they gaze over the horizon and ponder aloud, "I imagine I will not walk down the streets of Haulani for some time. There is little reward for me there… though I suspect you are one to enjoy it."
When you see something out of the corner of your eye, turn to look, and see nothing at all, what should you conclude? That you were having a hallucination? Or that your peripheral vision is perhaps not to be trusted. Ask yourself, are you tired? Drunk? Under the influence of something? Is the lighting good? Are there lots of moving shadows about? Are there reasons you have to think that your mind is playing tricks on you?
Because...well, because it would be absurd to think that out of the corner of your eye you had just seen a house. A house with a figure slamming its hands against one of the upper windows with enough force to shatter it, and then...
Pihu blinked at the stranger's words. Chuckling, the raven pointed at the buildings that were visible in the distance. Then her finger shifted to indicate the ships that were bobbing just off the shore. "I'd hardly say I'm far from home." She sloshed the contents of the bottle around.
"Nor am I that drunk. As for the ocean, I'm a Torchliner born and bred. I learned to swim 'fore I could walk." She grinned. "If she takes me she takes me. An' strange getup aside, ye don't look like much of threat." Shrugging, the thief offered the bottle again.
Opening her mouth to respond, a flash of movement in the corner of her eye had her frowning. Cupping her free hand around her lips, she shouted in the direction of the already disappeared illusory house and its trapped inhabitant. "Fuck off ye half rate carnival trick!" Shaking her head, she turned back to the other woman. "Don' worry about me. I can find enjoyment wherever I land."
They say these are the golden years But I wish I could disappear
Chaele is tossing the stone again when they see the vision, and not for the first time. Still it startles them, the strident sound of a fist on glass so quick it seems more like a memory, and their fist closes too soon. The falling azurite bounces off of their knuckle and knee, wists silently through the air for its short drop from that low-tide cliff, then splashes inelegantly into the briny water. Chaele leans forward to watch its descent helplessly, then curses under their breath as it is irrevocably lost.
That was certainly bad luck, if such a thing exists.
“You are not superstitious at all?” They lean back, speaking through a sigh as they try to forget the idle disappointment. “I was a Torcher too, a lifetime ago. We always had little rituals to keep the underworld out. Spirits and racketeers alike. In hindsight I suppose it never worked.”
As the stone fell from the woman's fingers, Pihu watched it arc into the ocean. She glanced at the stranger, who made no move to retrieve it. Frowning, the raven narrowed her eyes. Then she set the bottle down and stripped off her shirt and skirt. Jogging towards the water, she dove into it. Slicing through the surface, she swam down towards the ocean floor. She wasn't quite sure which rock was the right one, so she grabbed one that she hoped was correct.
Kicking off the bottom, she surfaced with a gasp. Pulling herself over the edge, she held out the pebble she'd retrieved to the other woman. "It's not superstitious if there are actually spirits out to get ye. Just means ye need better rituals." The thief let out a laugh.
They say these are the golden years But I wish I could disappear
Chaele’s dark eyebrows press low within the orbital holes of their mask, gazing up at the dripping wet woman in mild disbelief. They do not thank her, but they do take a moment to stare at the smooth, striped stone in scrutiny of its origins. Of all the stones that surely tumble in the undertow of this tiny bay, had this woman actually found the exact same one again?
They reach out and retrieve the stone in a lazy, sweeping motion. That’s one way to make luck.
“Perhaps that is what rituals are. Luck being molded with intention. Superstitions averted by preparation.” The words fall somewhere between defeat and triumph, their mind changed and requiring reflection. Their gaze is drawn to the stone in her hand once more, its ritual interrupted and restored. “What are your rituals, then, if not to throw rocks in pools? I cannot imagine spirits are particularly dissuaded by insults.” Their voice dips with the tone of a wry grin.
After the stranger took back the stone, Pihu grabbed the strands of her dripping wet hair. She wrung them out before tossing them back. Taking up her shirt, she used it to sop up the droplets that peppered her skin. "Or maybe they're just patterns people follow to make 'emselves feel better." She shrugged as she draped the shirt across her shoulders.
"Depends on the spirit." Laughing, she bent down to pick up her bottle. Taking a swig, she held it out to the other woman once again. "But I wouldn't say I really have any. I try not to be too predictable, if ye know what I mean."
They say these are the golden years But I wish I could disappear
“And drink is much more effective at making one feel better, is it?” There was something so entirely spontaneous about this woman, in contrast to the masked and pretentious creature at her feet. It inspires a thread of ease to tug free from the meticulous tapestry of Chaele’s veneer, a smile crawling over their shadowed features as their gaze dips over Pihu’s exposed body. Eventually it finds purchase on the offered rum with a relenting sigh.
The shaman takes the bottle into long, gnarled fingers and sniffs it testingly. The stone remains in their other hand, both moreso objects of contemplation than action. “Now that you have gone through all the trouble of retrieving my stone, I suppose I must make a wish. Or perhaps I shall be unpredictable, and keep it instead.”
