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!
They both know she’d sooner cut off her own hand than intentionally harm any of the people in Halo - or almost anyone - so she’s not at all offended by his suggestion. Evie is a healer. It was the first magic she ever had, the one she was born with. It shaped her as truly as an Attuned’s shift shapes their habits and personality. So instead she gives a rueful smile. “Oh I remember from when Loren made me Assistant to the Grand Healer. It’s one of the few things Halovians and Grounders have in common; wariness.” Winking, she huffs a laugh, because stubbornness and refusal to leave a proverbial wasteland probably makes it on that list too. “It would be nice to be nearby, but I wouldn’t want to mix my plants with the ones in here, or take up too much space. Much of what I grow can be dangerous if handled incorrectly.” Slowly looking around the greenhouse again she sighs morosely. “Which is a shame, I’d love to be in here daily. I wanted greenhouses in the Grounds for years.” A goal that never saw fruition. There is an ache of longing in her voice, drawing pained lines into her pretty face. It hadn’t happened because she hadn’t ordered it done during her brief reign. And now, with Ascended who had no need for food, there was little incentive to heal the barren land. It would happen by itself in time, but it would take many generations of life that Evie wouldn’t be around to see.
Distracting herself forcibly from those thoughts with another sharp bite of her apple, she lends her ear to Deimos’ opinion. “I don’t know him, but I trust your judgment. Personally I think it’s a good idea on the surface but…” her hand tightens around the apple until the flesh squeaks and gives slightly, her eyes distant and unseeing. “I remember the door. What it did. How easy it was for the Gods to lie by omission, and how the rest of us had to deal with the fallout.” Shaking her head slightly, crimson hair curtaining against her cheek in a trained movement that hides her face more, Evie sucks in a hard breath. “This compound may be built by a different herald, but who is to say the same thing won’t happen?” Or maybe that’s just the lingering guilt, too personal to let go of. Rexanna’s death had directly led to her own queenhood after all. “Anyway. Regardless of my own strength, I’m a healer. I won’t be hiding away when the war comes. It’s my job to mitigate the damage - I can’t imagine being anywhere else.” And there, finally, is that fire. Lost for a while in her grief, but incapable of being fully extinguished. It burns like white fire in the cool blue of her eyes, stronger than steel and contrasted against the softness of her smile as she turns it Deimos’ way. “And, well…that’s why I came back.” The real reason, which nobody had asked after and thus never learned.
ache first, but then let the cuts close spit out the blood
Loren’s name instigated another snort, but he kept it muffled, quieter, more to himself than anyone else, listening, eyes roaming around the verdant atmosphere as the subject became rooted in measures and plans. The lightest smile roamed at the mention of Halos’ and Grounders’ being somewhat applicable in regards to their personalities – both hardy, enduring, mighty to a fault because they had no other choice. What came thereafter though, with legions of them flickering off into other worlds, meant the Hollowed proportions had been absorbed by the Ascended. He couldn’t really blame them. “And what dangerous things are you growing?” Taking and plucking at amusing strings, rather than circling around those other motions, as if side-eyeing the roaming ghosts again, the vocals contained a lower rumble, curious and inquiring just the same.
But that didn’t seem meant to be – not with the drawn out semblances in her voice, the rue and regret dashed amongst them. “At least they have access to King’s End now,” and more fertile fields, when they weren’t under suspicious piles of snow.
Any and all further speculation of not being snared by wraiths was completely forgotten the moment she mentioned the door. His gaze went immediately elsewhere, grin disappearing, fading, memories sliding down the breadth of his spine within the span of a breath. “But that was my doing.” His plans. His notions. His schemes, thinking only of protecting those contained inside, never dwelling on the idea that Rexanna and Clem would be wandering outside. Why had scarcely mattered in the aftermath; and while it might’ve been years since those unfurled maelstroms, and he’d stitched together broken lacerations, the Sword had no intention in re-opening the wounds. Another bite of his apple persevered, perhaps to ground the endeavors and bring back some form of normalcy, but his grip tightened over the fruit, and the fixtures in his mind conjured other factions to restore the balance and tide. “Understood. We will just have to see when the time comes.”
As for the return, he took another few breaths, steadying himself, before glancing back her way. “Halo will be glad to have you,” rumbled in all seriousness, even if he’d tilted his head to break up the pattern of complexities roaming inside his skull.
watch your body pull itself back together then let your soul do the same
Her answering giggle over his tiny snort is similarly muffled, attempting to not give in to childish judgments and failing utterly. Talented he may have been magically, he came up short in many other distinctions; namely, charm and wisdom. “Even plants meant only for eating can be dangerous; cassava are like potatoes, but their skins are poisonous, and you can’t eat them until they’ve been boiled. Many medicinal plants are the same, where I need small doses of certain parts - parts that can paralyze in large doses, but numb in small ones can be useful for anesthetics and even numbing a sore throat.” Blinking, she pauses, and then shakes her head slightly as she chuckles. “That wasn’t what you meant, was it? You probably knew all that. The actual list I have is too long, it’d bore you. Anyway, I just don’t want someone to accidentally reach for what they think is an herb or a berry and wind up in the infirmary to see me about my own plant.” That would not only be embarrassing, but it would certainly ruin that trust Deimos was emphasizing.
The alternative he offers is a comforting thought, and that she repays him by bringing up such horrible memories is a cruelty she can bear no easier than the weight that suffocates her to see his expression crumble. But she hadn’t meant to, because in her eyes he is utterly blameless, even if it makes sense in the seconds after his response to see how he would never feel the same. She doesn’t want to spit vitriol about Safrin not being clear on what the doors capabilities were, not to a follower of hers, so instead she discards her apple and reaches to wrap her fingers firmly around Deimos’ wrist. Seeking his eyes with something mildly desperate in her own. “No. No, it wasn’t, and I will tell you that every day, even if you never believe me. You didn’t have an ounce of intention in your heart to hurt anyone, and it wasn’t your power that operated it.” It was Safrin’s, and again she must choke back that part. “We all agreed to the idea. We had bo idea what the monsters were or what connection they had to the Ascended. It was an accident, but one that came about because of the mess the Gods have us in. Not because of your choices.” Her voice is quiet but firm, eyes unblinking. Relatively sure the words will do nothing to absolve him of his internal guilt, but adamant that he know, without a doubt, how she feels about the matter.
His attempts to reach stabilization don’t go unnoticed, but even the sweetness of his comment will not dissuade her for long, though it does encourage her to drop her hand from his so that she doesn’t seem crazy in her intensity. “Thank you. I hope you’re right.” She’s not sure these days anymore of how good she is for any land or its people.
ache first, but then let the cuts close spit out the blood
Considering she’d just been plotting a potential scheme to maul people’s skin with ivy, he’d take the notions with a grain of salt and a residual arch of his brow. “So I have heard. Something about balance,” from Ray, when plotting sleeping draughts, pretending those weren’t lined up somewhere amid cabinets, never used and likely to stay that way. “Just making sure,” and he wrinkled his nose, mostly to reassure there was trust between them, and that he didn’t have another D’art in his midst. One poison master was enough for multiple lifetimes.
Thereafter though, the archaic weight of a reticent veneer lingered onward even as her grasp came to his wrist – frozen in parallels, lost to the beliefs that still twisted and turned amongst his memories. Wall upon wall threatened to build efficiently, quickly, over the stoicism and clenched jaw, the tightening sway over his held apple, or the taut measures of his spine, drawn inexplicably monolithic, so maybe no one could reach him. Her words rang and jostled with all the other formations of struck corpses and dead best friends and pyres meant to reach the sky, until he blinked several times, trying to track the mist and fog surrounding his skull, and nodding with all the statements. It didn’t mean he believed them, but it was enough for the moment to pass and stretch without him sinking again. It would take much longer to strike or hold true.
A horrible lesson for them all – and now they wandered ever closer to more.
The Sword only moved when she dropped her hand, and it was to crouch amidst the dirt and soil for a moment – plucking away at the seeds of his apple, and burying it in the loam, so that the cycle persisted. It gave him some time to recover too, finding roots in his own measures. “Is there anything else you wanted to see?” came on quieter, rumbling tones, while his hand hovered over the indentation, pulling at air and nothingness until a leaf unfurled.
watch your body pull itself back together then let your soul do the same
07-15-2022, 10:44 PM (This post was last modified: 07-15-2022, 10:46 PM by Evie.)
Evie
fear has favourites
His reassurances make her roll her eyes, fondly exasperated. No, people inclined to poison and harm in his life had blonde hair, not ginger. “I might know poisons out of necessity, but I promise you won’t find any in your tea in the future.” Pausing a moment for dramatic emphasis, she quirks a smirk his way. “Or at least it won’t be from me. I can’t speak to any enemies you’ve made.” Likely a few, which is why she keeps her tone lighthearted, away from the gravity of reality.
Which only lasts a brief moment before she slams them both down into the earth of it half a breath later. His silence is better than being shrugged off physically, which would imply a more vehement denial. Evie doesn’t fool herself into believing she has gotten through to him - that she ever could. Sam was the wordsmith, the empath. Evie is just a fire-heart girl with a too-big mouth and blackened streak of luck. She hurts people, she always has, but it never ceases to be something she hates about herself. Age has tempered the pettier inclinations, the snarling and haughtiness, the bullying she used to keep people from looking too close. Sam had borne the brunt of it, but even a facade can feel too much like your face from wearing it endlessly, and Evie had shamefully adopted too many of the tendencies as habit instead of defense. But humility and loneliness had forced that off many years ago, which allows her to be more sincere yes, but also means she feels the weight of guilt heavier when she fucks up.
After joining her apple core with his in the soil, Evie steps away to watch him encourage their growth just enough to give them a chance. Her freckled arms hold herself around her middle, shoulders slightly hunched. “Has anything else substantially changed since I lived here last?” Because she’s not sure what changes exist to even be interested in seeing. “Otherwise…the inn, I suppose. I don’t want to cart my bags around all day.” Even if their day together didn’t end there, they could at least book the room and store her bags.
ache first, but then let the cuts close spit out the blood
“I will let you know if I feel ill then,” and he rolled his eyes in return, somewhat surprised, truthfully, that he hadn’t been maimed or poisoned before. Instead, maladies like grief, or the petulant shades of blight discrepancies, had crept in, and likely left far deeper impacts. Besides, Zuriel kept his health together – from lacerations and cuts to bruises and whatever other blasted machinations knocked him back.
Leaving the conversation there, and turning it back to ventures not so piercing, he drew the other seeds into leaves as well, before standing upright, a tower again. Dusting his hands free of soil, his eyes narrowed briefly, thinking over timeframes, from disappearances and misgivings, to coups and factions, to uprisings that didn’t last, to pyres and the unknown, bizarre evidence trail left by Neron. But as far as the buildings of Halo, not much had been altered. “Not really.” The weapon itself wasn’t completed yet, though the pillar stood tall, waiting for frames and glass to be set upon it, and the final touches moved together. "We made a way station in Whitebrim." However, that was a distance away, and there'd be no real need to see unless they had an inkling to spring back out into the Tundra's wake. Tilting his head a fraction, watching Belial roaming beside the glass door, waiting for them, his tones tried for a lighter precision, struggling to alter and right the semblances from before. “I built a climbing wall in the barracks,” and he shrugged his shoulders, offering a light, if not slightly goading smile. “But I am certain you will see that eventually anyway.”
Stepping forward, he strode back down the paths, presuming she’d be following, straight to where they’d left furs and layers on coat-hooks. He handed hers over, before putting his on and opening the aperture, permitting the cold from outside to intermingle with the humidity for a moment. Raising his head much like a seditious, defiant predator, he took in the semblances of the frigid wind, calm once more in the chill, and then closed the door behind them. The peryton instantly meandered around their legs, twisting and turning with relative excitement, while Zuriel gave him a look that pinpointed too many things at once. “To the inn,” and he nodded, walking towards the road.
watch your body pull itself back together then let your soul do the same
“I’m sure Zuriel would tend you long before I could, but the thought counts,” she assures with a mirthful twitch of her lips as if aware of his thoughts. It truly surprises her given nobody would be foolish enough to take arms against Deimos in battle that poison hasn’t been attempted sooner. Perhaps the worst of Caido were still too honorable for such things.
Standing alongside him - willow to his redwood - Evie absentmindedly dusts her hands on her thighs, accustomed to the lingering sediment. Neither construction immediately tugs at her interest, so she follows in his wake as he turns to make headway for the entrance. Wanting to give him something to focus on, to control, as recompense for knocking him so off-kilter with memories best left forgotten or buried. Evie takes her garments from his hands, ensuring they’re buckled and tied tightly before the biting wind can enter to sap at her warmth. A habit forgotten, but remembered swiftly when overlooked even once.
A gentle hand lowers to meet Belial’s twining motions, an object to press against more than an actively petting limb. She falls into step with Deimos easily enough despite their height difference, bags bouncing against her hip as she strides with purpose. “If the greenhouse is not an option, I was thinking someplace relatively close to the barracks; you’ll keep me in business with injured soldiers I’m sure.” Even twisted ankles and bruises could be hastened in their healing journey, and it would ensure his best and brightest remained fighting ready in case of an emergency; which Halo frequently had. “I don’t want to linger in the Inn too long, so I want to find a suitable place quickly. Whatever I find for a good price will likely be in need of repairs as is.” And while she’s not afraid to put in the work, the notion of staying in the inn for so long with little privacy and no workspace is daunting at best, grating at worst.
ache first, but then let the cuts close spit out the blood
A small smile crept along his features at the rebuttal as they walked, for it was certainly the truth of the matter. His hand went to the mare’s mane, tugging at the end of the braids for amusement, ignoring the way her imperial head shook – enough to settle any other rattled portions of his soul. Belial, eternally content to be in someone’s orbit and attention, breezed beneath Evie’s fingers, either enticing her to play, give chase, or maybe more scratches along his ears or beginning of his antlers. “There should be some available,” pondering over the matter, considering he lived directly across – narrowing his gaze as he configured back to the mental images, and they stepped along the cobblestoned street. “You would be giving Zuri a break,” and he laughed a little lighter, for the unicorn had the tendency to heal each and every scrape, bruise, and laceration that pierced along the barracks’ wake. “Would be good for close proximity for any hunters injured too.”
His pace wasn’t overbearing, but certainly sharp and swift, used to patrol designations and quick glances down side streets, along rooftops, and anywhere else earning his attention. He nodded at a few passersby again, before his gaze flickered back to the top of Evie’s head. The walk was doing him some good as well, leaving the anguish and grief behind for the sake of movement and motion; not kindled and incensed in some restless demolition. “Understandable, and probably. Let me know if you want help.” He could always drag the recruits over, considering how much they’d probably be seeing the healer in the future.
watch your body pull itself back together then let your soul do the same
Belial’s eager company diverts her attention, allowing Deimos his privacy with his first and oldest companion. Her stained hands playfully pat and pet in alternating rhythms whenever he is close enough to do so, which requires quite a good amount of focus as she also has to concentrate on not tripping over the playful carnivore as they walk. It doesn’t prevent her from looking up at the lightening tone she hears, lips twitching unbidden at the sound of it. “At the rate I’m sure she has to step in she deserves a full vacation.” Though from her experience with the unicorn Evie is certain it’s entirely voluntary. Zuriel has never allowed herself to be bossed or commanded.
His pace is militaristic, but hers is just as swift for entirely opposite reasons; the Grounds hadn’t always had an infirmary, and Evie has more than her fair share of years beneath her belt spent running to make it in time for a patient. Even the slower life of the Wilds couldn’t take away such ingrained muscle memory. “I would, thank you. The more hands the better if I’m to get it up and running as quickly as possible.” The recruits would be similarly helpful if he deigned to bring them, but Evie wouldn’t mind tackling the job just between the two of them.
Checking into a room and storing her bags is a simple affair, if dull. Moments like these, despite her loneliness, she’s grateful she has no companion or large items she would otherwise be forced to accommodate in the relatively small room. As she’s setting down her last bag her stomach rumbles loudly, and Evie’s face flames as a hand rises to settle over it. Laughing self-consciously, she turns on her heel to look sheepishly up at Deimos. “I guess the fruit wasn’t enough. Want to get dinner?” Unless he tired of her company already.
ache first, but then let the cuts close spit out the blood
Zuriel purposefully heaved a put-upon sigh at the intonations, and Deimos fought off an eye roll, though he gave her one last pat before turning his attention to the roads and streets. “Do not worry. She is properly spoiled.” Favored spaces in both home and barracks in front of the fire, treats at an adequate frequency – well aware of what she’d done for the multitudes of the masses, the unicorn would likely never be without some range of beneficial reception.
Belial, also doted upon, gave another distinct hoot to the attempts at scratches, unaware that his own ridiculous movements prevented any focus. After a while though he seemed distracted by something else – and unfurled his wings, stretching out the obsidian feathers, and bounding off to inspect a snowball.
With assistance accepted and a list of recruits he could drag over already filling his methodical mind, the modicums of the inn were arranged swiftly thereafter. The stomach rumbling caused his brow to arch, the light smile back and flickering across his features – considering his already had ages before, he couldn’t tease her much. “Sure.” Stepping out of the guest house and back along the fringes of the cobblestones, the options were plentiful, some of the options already casting an aroma despite the frigid air. Fresh meat cooked over open flame, sweet desserts, the ever-present potential of ningo, and other varieties piercing through as he shifted directions towards the market. “What would you like?” They could pinpoint and snag from there – the Sword was rarely picky.
watch your body pull itself back together then let your soul do the same
The two of them being spoiled is no doubting matter, but Evie hides her grin in the fur lining of her hood all the same at Zuriel’s dramatics. It makes her long anew for that companionship, but given her status it’s a far fetched dream. Still, if Deimos had managed it…
Evie shakes herself out of those thoughts, those trappings of hope and the desire for forgiveness she shouldn’t have to earn. It’s easier to focus on the here and now. For example, food. Smiling back, unsurprised by his acceptance but still pleased to have been given it, Evie follows in his wake back out the door and into the street.
The smells that great them have the Evergreen tipping her head back and inhaling appreciatively. “Mmmm. Honestly anything I don’t have to cook myself sounds great, even with as many herbs as I could want there was only so much to hunt or barter for in Kings End,” she huffs a laugh, sharp blue eyes already eagerly flitting between vendors. “If we walk and eat is that enough reasoning to get multiple things?” Cheeky grin is flashed Deimos’ way, struggling to hide it so she can beg with her eyes for an allowance she doesn’t truly need from him. But what was the fun in it all if he didn’t eat all the foods with her?
ache first, but then let the cuts close spit out the blood
Considering Evie’s previous experiences in Halo, she’d already have encountered ningo, ningo jerky, and any other of its ningo-affiliated concoctions – so he steered them clear of that particular stall. “Of course,” was a discerning answer with a boyish grin again, because he’d look for any excuse to scoop up extras – and considering all the work, labor, and exercise he put in every day, he wasn’t much concerned. The acceptance was quick and rapid, and perfectly aligned with his own tendencies. “Ursur burgers, perhaps?” An inquiry, but purposeful as he strode nearer the kiosk – the scent of intermingling herbs and spices woven into the bear meat as they lingered amongst the threads of other people moving about – situating his monolithic frame in line, even if she wasn’t inclined towards that one. There’d be other options. Chicken and venison were over the open flames as well, sizzling as he glanced over several heads of strangers and familiar individuals alike.
Belial stood right at his heels though, ensuring he’d be having some portions as well.
His stare roamed from stall to stall nearby afterwards, perusing choices, alternatives, possibilities…the potential range of desserts blending and fusing amidst the square. But he left it for now, directing his attention back to Evie. “Did you get a chance to go to the carnival in the Boondocks last season?”
watch your body pull itself back together then let your soul do the same
“Ooh, that sounds great,” she groans appreciatively, following a half step behind Deimos, nearly tucked behind his hip. People parted for the towering general far more readily than the healer with her willowy frame, and she wasn’t keen on being separated by the crowds. Once they’re in line she comes flush with his side once more, waiting patiently given she couldn’t see above the crowd the way he could.
The line slowly progresses, the sizzling of cooking meat distracting and mouthwatering, to a degree that she has to take a second to rewind what Deimos just said in order to parse it. “Unfortunately no, what was it like? Think this Liat Fux is held by the same people?” If so, they’re a stubborn sort. And likely shouldn’t be in the entertainment business at all.
As they make it to the front Evie orders her own burger, waiting for Deimos to place his as well before putting both under her name. As they progress to the pick up area, she begins to fidget, hunger increasing now that she knew food was in reach. When it comes she swoops it up, barely having the decency to move out of the waiting area before unwrapping it and taking her first bite. Immediately humming blissfully, pale lashes fluttering over freckles cheeks as she sways slightly while she walks, disoriented by her own closed eyes. So totally worth it.
ache first, but then let the cuts close spit out the blood
“Possibly,” and he shrugged, uncertain about the whole thing – and with all the underlying caution and trepidation surrounding festivities, he could only draw on the bizarre, but appreciative experience. “It seemed similar to what we used to do – but with more games, shopping, luxere sledding…,” lots of lights and sound, a diverting atmosphere than what’d they had in the past. “However, they did have funnel cakes.” As if this was the crowning achievement all entertainment could preside upon, he gave a dramatic, boyish, very juvenile sigh, before they snagged at their own food, and he bartered in several daggers concocted and created from his hands.
But once he had his burger, the Sword was immediately content, and parsing out a piece for Belial, he savored the taste, swallowing down a few bites before meandering down the row of dessert-addled portions. “Your turn,” he managed, so that Evie could wander through and make a selection, steering her closed-eyes approach around a swathe of other people selecting tables and chairs to eat their meals.
watch your body pull itself back together then let your soul do the same
