{SE} what'll you fall for?
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Maeve Ansel
the Nightshade
Madame

Age: 26 | Height: 5'4 | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 10 - Strg: 35 - Dext: 37 - Endr: 43 - Luck: 37 - Int: 1
AIDON - Mythical - Dragon (Fire Breath)
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#1
I get them all worked up and down on their knees, you see
She'd just been there, but it doesn't stop Maeve from coming by again and leaving another offering. A second thank you for the weapon. It was going to come in handy and the Nightshade knew that. Placing down the bottle of perfume she's crafted, thinking that she's managed to nail the goddess's signature scent, despite the fact that it was difficult to duplicate the smell of rain in a bottle. Somehow the smell of jasmine, fresh rainfall, and the ocean blends beautifully with notes of sandalwood to create something that's distinctly Safrin. "Thank you for all you do. Edmund wanted me to leave this for you too."

The Nightshade says, placing a delicately picked flower from her garden, laying it beside the perfume before she straightens up and smooths out her dress with the intentions of heading back home.

Maeve
Phoebe Steadman
the Nightingale
Midwife

Age: 26 | Height: 5'9" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 5 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 46 - Endr: 41 - Luck: 41 - Int:
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#2
Phoebe
Oh, but leaving an offering couldn't be that simple, could it? As the Queen prepared to leave, another woman entered, a baby wrapped in a sling on her torso. In her hands she carried a small basket of peaches. It was none other than Phoebe, friend turned nemesis, and Jude.

The baby squealed happily to see Maeve, waving his little arms frantically. It broke Phoebe's heart even as it skipped a few beats to see Maeve there. Thus far they had avoided eachother, but it seemed the fates intended their paths cross. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Phoebe continued forward, back straight. "Your Highness." she greeted softly with a small curtsy before setting her offering on the alter.

"Frey, thank you for the safe haven you've provided for the citizens of Caido in the upcoming war, and for all that you do each day."
loving you was the most exquisite
form of self destruction
Maeve Ansel
the Nightshade
Madame

Age: 26 | Height: 5'4 | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 10 - Strg: 35 - Dext: 37 - Endr: 43 - Luck: 37 - Int: 1
AIDON - Mythical - Dragon (Fire Breath)
Played by: Artio Offline
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Posts: 2,404 | Total: 3,277
MP: 877
#3
I get them all worked up and down on their knees, you see
Now, had it been anyone else entering the shrine, Maeve likely would have offered a polite smile and slipped around them. Maybe even told them to mind the stairs at the top as they can sometimes be a bit slick from the condensation that settles in the evenings. Except it isn't just anyone. It is the one person she's been doing her damndest to avoid for fear of causing further issue. Not trusting herself around the demigoddess.

Jade eyes widen, lips parting in surprise as she stops short, barely managing to keep from bumping into mother and babe. Jude breaks the silence first and she snaps her attention to the baby, instantly reaching for one of his hands, "Mon petit soleil.." The Queen coos, attempting to catching one of his outstretched hands, but Phoebe is moving past her so quickly that she has to correct herself. The indignation that alights in her chest is hot and instant, flaring so violently that her eyes darken with it as she barely refrains from hissing out a breath of annoyance, spinning to track the woman's movements.

It happens quickly, of course. The space cramped and the stones sharp. Her elbow catching against the craggy edge, slicing through delicate skin and drawing blood in a matter of seconds.

Maeve


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#4
Phoebe 's peaches begin to belch sludge before turning to ash. A sharp breeze blows away the remains.

No offerings or prayers to Frey are welcome in Safrin's shrine.
Phoebe Steadman
the Nightingale
Midwife

Age: 26 | Height: 5'9" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 5 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 46 - Endr: 41 - Luck: 41 - Int:
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#5
Phoebe
Jude's had brushes against Maeve's as they pass and he laughs, as though it were a game. Phoebe however is more preoccupied with the sudden decay of her peaches. She supposed she would have to try again elsewhere.

But the sound of Maeve hitting the stone had her turning around quickly. The flash of blood was easy to see. And despite all that was between them, a look of concern crossed her expression. Even knowing that she was the cause of so much heartbreak in her life, Maeve had stepped in when Phoebe could not. She owed her much, and healing was perhaps a small step towards that. "Please, let me heal your wound your majesty." Phoebe said as she stood and turned to face her.
loving you was the most exquisite
form of self destruction
Maeve Ansel
the Nightshade
Madame

Age: 26 | Height: 5'4 | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 10 - Strg: 35 - Dext: 37 - Endr: 43 - Luck: 37 - Int: 1
AIDON - Mythical - Dragon (Fire Breath)
Played by: Artio Offline
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Posts: 2,404 | Total: 3,277
MP: 877
#6
I get them all worked up and down on their knees, you see
It’s all a sharp and sudden turn of events. A cruel circumstance thrust upon her in her goddess’s shrine and that just somehow makes it worse. It seems that Safrin, though not here presently, doesn’t take kindly to Phoebe’s attempts at offerings and makes that much clear. It’s enough of a distraction that she’s kept from snagging at her child’s hand as he passes and as such is sent stumbling backwards, elbow scraping harshly against jagged stone, causing new pain to bloom through her already frayed nerves.

Your majesty. The formality slips past Phoebe’s lips again and Maeve can’t stand to hear it. She hisses out a breath, finding her feet and pressing her palm against the wound in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. ”Would you stop calling me that? I don’t have the stomach for your fake niceties.” The Nightshade practically spits, venom as deadly as her namesake coating her words as she glares at the other woman, shaking her head. ”We both know that’s not what you really wish to call me.” Homewrecker, adulteress, and seductress all come to the forefront of her mind and she knows that the thought has crossed the demigod’s too.

Maeve
Phoebe Steadman
the Nightingale
Midwife

Age: 26 | Height: 5'9" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 5 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 46 - Endr: 41 - Luck: 41 - Int:
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#7
Phoebe
A younger Phoebe would have flinched under Maeve's bite, but not as she was now. She stood tall, unwavering, one hand on Jude's tummy, the other at her side. She was quiet for a long while, Maeve's words seeming to echo in the cavernous shrine. Finally Phoebe looked down at Jude, who was oblivious to the tension in the air. She stared at him a moment before raising her gaze to the Nightshade once more.

"It is hard not to think bad things about you in regards to Harper. That it has been a year and not hours...it's difficult to come to terms with." the Nightingale said. "But you were a mother to my son when I couldn't be. And that will always be more important than anything else." she said resolutely. Her personal feelings did not overshadow what Maeve had done for her son. For that she was more than grateful.
loving you was the most exquisite
form of self destruction
Maeve Ansel
the Nightshade
Madame

Age: 26 | Height: 5'4 | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 10 - Strg: 35 - Dext: 37 - Endr: 43 - Luck: 37 - Int: 1
AIDON - Mythical - Dragon (Fire Breath)
Played by: Artio Offline
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Posts: 2,404 | Total: 3,277
MP: 877
#8
I get them all worked up and down on their knees, you see
It takes everything in her not to curl her lips into a snarl at the mention of Harper. To lash out at the other woman and rip her throat out with her teeth for even daring to speak his name after all that she's done. The only thing that gives her away is the twitch at the corner of her mouth as her lips press into a thin line, jaw feathering as her usually unclouded jade gaze darkens to that of wilted sage, breath caught in her lungs as she barely keeps  a hold of her restraint. "You might not understand what Harper and I have, but he did nothing wrong. He's never done wrong. You may think ill of me all you wish, but don't you dare put him through that. You've already done enough."

She had done plenty. Too much to tear him to pieces. To crack apart his heart and splinter his resolve. To make him doubt himself. Maeve wasn't going to have it anymore. There wouldn't be a next time. She'd ensure that herself. Uh oh, Maeve. You're starting to sound like a certain demigod. Anyone want to take a guess who?

Her eyes drop to Jude and she draws in a breath. Her son. Her son. Her son. Jude was hers as much as he was Phoebe's. Whether the Nightingale wanted to acknowledge it or not. "Of course. He needed me." And he still does. He always will.

Maeve
Phoebe Steadman
the Nightingale
Midwife

Age: 26 | Height: 5'9" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 5 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 46 - Endr: 41 - Luck: 41 - Int:
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#9
Phoebe
"I know he did nothing wrong." Phoebe said with ease. "He did exactly what I taught him to do - move on." Because she had. Painstakingly she had made his heart move and beat again after clinging to years of mourning. Years. "And I never meant to hurt him. I didn't mean to disappear. This world...it can be cruel." Phoebe was as much not to blame as Harper. She didn't walk into a time warp garden on purpose. She didn't abandon her love and her son on purpose. It was another tragedy played out by the magical tricks of Caido.

"I am trying not to think ill of you. You were there when Harper needed you. You were there when my son needed a mother. You've done me the most selfless of services even though I know you hate me." It was written all over Maeve's features after all. The disdain, the fury - it all enmeshed into contorted features that usually set serene and beautiful.
loving you was the most exquisite
form of self destruction
Maeve Ansel
the Nightshade
Madame

Age: 26 | Height: 5'4 | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 10 - Strg: 35 - Dext: 37 - Endr: 43 - Luck: 37 - Int: 1
AIDON - Mythical - Dragon (Fire Breath)
Played by: Artio Offline
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Posts: 2,404 | Total: 3,277
MP: 877
#10
I get them all worked up and down on their knees, you see
Maeve bites her tongue. Phoebe wasn't the only one who taught him that. She wasn't the only one who sat with him and talked him through his heartbreak over and over and over again. Who told him that he wasn't wrong for having feelings. For wanting to keep living life. Oh how she had encouraged him. Even when she selfishly had wanted to keep him for herself. It's because of her that Phoebe even had him in the first place. Did she even know? Maeve doubts it. The Nightshade fiddles with the ring that adorns her left ring finger, twisting it slightly as she refrains from commenting that perhaps it was simply Caido correcting things again and allowing what should have grown in the first place a chance to do so.

"I hate what you've done to Harper. How you've made him feel." And maybe that meant she hated her, too. The Nightshade couldn't say for sure, but she knew that the feeling in her stomach for this woman wasn't love. It wasn't even contempt. It was something much more visceral than that. Maeve shakes her head, drawing in a breath, "The best thing that you can do now Phoebe is let him go. Let us be happy. I'm going to marry him. We're going to be a family once this whole war mess is done." The Queen meets her eyes now, intentions clear and leaving no room for misinterpretation, knowing that Phoebe still chose to carry his last name. Something she no longer had a right to.

Maeve
Phoebe Steadman
the Nightingale
Midwife

Age: 26 | Height: 5'9" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 5 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 46 - Endr: 41 - Luck: 41 - Int:
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#11
Phoebe
"If I'd had a choice I would have never made him feel like that. Surely you know this." she said, almost pleading. They had been close once, friends, student and mentor - Maeve must know that she'd never intentionally hurt someone she loved. Or perhaps it didn't matter to her. Perhaps unfortunate magical encounters didn't develop understanding in her heart or mind.

Phoebe stilled as the Queen suddenly held her gaze. The words she spoke dripped like ice down her spine. She swallowed a lump in her throat, willing herself to remain tall. "He hasn't made that clear to me yet." she said simply, holding back a tremble in her voice. "Forgive me for waiting to hear it from his own lips."
loving you was the most exquisite
form of self destruction
Maeve Ansel
the Nightshade
Madame

Age: 26 | Height: 5'4 | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 10 - Strg: 35 - Dext: 37 - Endr: 43 - Luck: 37 - Int: 1
AIDON - Mythical - Dragon (Fire Breath)
Played by: Artio Offline
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Posts: 2,404 | Total: 3,277
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#12
I get them all worked up and down on their knees, you see
"It wasn't how you made him feel when you left, Phoebe. That's not what I'm referring to." The Nightshade replies coolly. No, that isn't it at all. Maeve knows that she couldn't help that. It was what she did when she came back. How she handled it. What she said. What she chose to do. That's what Maeve had a problem with now. "You've made him feel like no matter what he chooses he's the bad guy." His words ring in her head from that day on the beach. The day he fell apart in her arms; cracking, breaking, fracturing splinters through his crystalline that were nigh impossible for her to put back together, but Maeve was determined to do just that.

She'd never let him shatter. She'd never be so careless with his heart the way so many others had been in the past. Intentional or not.

"Moving on from you now makes him bad. Not being there from dusk till dawn with Jude makes him a bad father, but not giving you space to accept that you two won't be together makes him a bad person too. On top of feeling like a bad partner for not being with me and our family. Can't you see what you've done? What you're doing to him?"

Maeve shakes her head, drawing in a breath as she looks at her in disbelief, unable to find it in herself to feel guilty over the tears that her shared news has caused the former Madame. "Ask him if you must, Phoebe. We've made our choice. We're just waiting."

Maeve
Phoebe Steadman
the Nightingale
Midwife

Age: 26 | Height: 5'9" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 5 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 46 - Endr: 41 - Luck: 41 - Int:
PIM - Mythical - Dragon (Electricity) BRANBAST - Mythical - Sear Cat (Speech)
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#13
Phoebe
Phoebe remained quiet as Maeve spilled to her all that Harper was supposedly feeling, unaware of the conversations the two had had. And yet, she could not find it in herself not to believe the Queen. Harper had always been unnecessarily harsh on himself. She could see where she played into some of it, but other parts were self-imposed guilt. Yet to the Nightshade, it was all her doing.

"I will apologize to him for my reactions. It...it wasn't easy, isn't easy to accept that a year has passed. But none of this makes him a bad father, and I never told him it did." she said. She would not take blame for that which she did not say. Never would she call Harper a bad father, because it was wholly untrue - and she would make that abundantly clear to him.

"I must ask him. I hope you can at least imagine why." she said. Phoebe loved Harper like no time had passed at all. And surely if the Queen loved him as she proclaimed to, she could understand her need for closure, not teary eyed promises of consideration. She was held by a string and could not let go of it until Harper severed it himself.
loving you was the most exquisite
form of self destruction
Maeve Ansel
the Nightshade
Madame

Age: 26 | Height: 5'4 | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 10 - Strg: 35 - Dext: 37 - Endr: 43 - Luck: 37 - Int: 1
AIDON - Mythical - Dragon (Fire Breath)
Played by: Artio Offline
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Posts: 2,404 | Total: 3,277
MP: 877
#14
I get them all worked up and down on their knees, you see
"You didn't have to say it, Phoebe." Maeve replies coolly, shaking her head as she adjusts her basket on her arm, smoothing a hand over her stomach as she regards the Nightingale with concealed disdain as she squares her shoulders. The Queen keeps from scoffing, but only barely. Her lips pressing into a thin line as she looks the demigod over.

Why? Why does she need to ask him? Was it not clear? Was everything that Harper had said and done up until this point made his intentions incredibly blatant to anyone who took a moment to look? "No, I can't say I can imagine why. There is nothing left to discuss, but fine. If you must because you can't believe me." Maeve turns towards the door of the lighthouse, pushing it open and pausing only for a moment to look back at her, "But don't be surprised when he repeats exactly what I told you." With that, the Nightshade slips back out into the day, letting the door close behind her with a near deafening finality.

~FIN~

Maeve


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