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!
Mateo makes a point, these days, of climbing aboard a skyship (one that moves and goes places and carries other people on it) at least once a week to go out and visit. Very adult of him, he knows. His fathers would be proud, if they had any idea of it. But they don't, so... whatever, he supposes.
Stepping out into Kaiholo port, today the botanist sports a pair of garishly large sunglasses, a string vest and a pair of tie dye patterned shorts; he doesn't know how to cheer up his sister, but a splash of colour never did anyone any harm, right? With a cigarette between his lips, a paper bag in one arm (there's a bottle of gin and a bouquet of carefully cut sunflowers poking out of the top) and the look of a man who is way too sober, he gazes around for Flora.
i've told you time and time again i'm not as think as you drunk i am
Flora isn't terribly far from the docks, though her mind is a million miles away. Having taken to spending her afternoons staring out at the sea, Flora has become a common sight for those working at the harbour, though not for the reasons she once was. Now she is known for her sunken eyes, unshaved legs, and oversized sweaters. She's known for haunting the area with little regard for whose way she might be in, and rarely seems to be all there according to the workers.
Today her feet are buried completely in the sand, and as she does on most days, she's wearing one of Enzo's sweaters. With her knees drawn up to her chest and the fabric of the shirt pulled across her shins, the once vibrant and beautiful girl is lacklustre and hollow as she gazes unseeing at the waves. Quite what she sees there is anyone's guess, but her stare is unrelenting.
Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness 'Cause it's all over now, all out to sea
"Ciao, Flora." Mateo's greeting is a cheerful trill that either ignores or does not see the way his sister seems to suck all of the colour out from the world around her. Indeed, he flops to sit down in the sand beside her, leaning in to press a brotherly smooch to her cheek. It's rarely acknowledged and even more rarely reciprocated, but he'll keep doing it nonetheless.
"It is getting cooler down here. Still warmer than Stormbreak, though." He settles the paper bag between them, drawing out the sunflowers to set them down in the sand for her. "These were coming along very well. I thought you would enjoy them."
i've told you time and time again i'm not as think as you drunk i am
Despite Mateo's colours and liveliness, Flora barely spares him a glance. It's true that while they were growing up she thought of him more as a cousin than a brother. He was both older and younger, close and distant all at once. Besides, she'd always had Enzo; what need had she for another presence in her life when her twin had been part of her every waking moment?
"mmm." Flora hums in response, or perhaps her breathing had just grown louder. Glancing down at the sunflowers, bright and bold in a way that made her want to cry, the girl swallows and nods meekly. "That's nice." Instead of reaching for them, Flora instead tightens the grip her fingers have around her knees. "The apartment doesn't get a lot of light these days, so they'll probably die if you leave them with me." She murmurs, turning to glance at Mateo over her shoulder; not only is her face free of makeup but there are several large gaps in her eyelashes and eyebrows from where she's obviously been tugging at the hairs.
Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness 'Cause it's all over now, all out to sea
Taking her lacklustre response (and thoroughly neglected appearance) in stride with a smile, Mateo puts aside his feelings and reaches this time for the gin. "I tried my hand at making some," he tells her. "It isn't as good as Dad's, but it is passable, I think." If it'll fuck you up is passable. And if he's slipped a little dreamdust in there as well, who the fuck needs to know? Not his sleep-deprived sister, that's who.
"They are cut, so they are already going to die," he points out of the sunflowers. "Perhaps we could go back to your apartment and open a few curtains, find somewhere good for them to live in the meantime?" He doubts she will go for it, but he suggests it nonetheless. "Or we could go to the Hanged Man for something to eat."
i've told you time and time again i'm not as think as you drunk i am
'Oh.' Flora's eyes dip towards the paper bag, seemingly unaware that Mateo is likely offering her some of his gin. 'That's nice.' She murmurs again, in that same nothing-tone of the very drugged, or the very depressed.
Swallowing hard as she forces herself to look at the sunflowers, Flora bites at the inside of her cheek, then her lower lip, before shaking her head slowly. "I...I don't want things that die." She whispers, before shrugging. Luckily Enzo's sweater hides a good deal of her recent weight loss, but as close as Mateo is, he'll likely notice just how bony Flora has become. "I don't really feel like eating. You can go though, don't let me stop you."
Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness 'Cause it's all over now, all out to sea
"It is, isn't it?" Mateo echoes. "It is for you, so I am glad that you think so." His temper has a very long fuse, and whether it's the fact that he's just shut himself off from all the ways that he's still Flora's brother but not as good as Enzo, or the drink and drugs he'll do the second he gets home, he's surprisingly mellow about this whole sorry ordeal.
"Well, everything does," he says with an easy roll of his shoulders. "Whether we want them to or not. So you may as well enjoy them while they are here." leaning back on his hands, he resists the urge to stare directly into the sun through his glasses, instead stubbing out his cigarette against the warm sand.
"You might not feel like it, but you probably should, you know. You look like shit. Does your mother know you're letting yourself waste away? Does Dad?" Would you like them to?
i've told you time and time again i'm not as think as you drunk i am
'Oh.' Enzo's death and the subsequent months Flora has spent alone have seemingly reduced her vocabulary to almost nothing. 'You..you didn't have to do that.' She mumbles, now looking suspiciously at the bag holding the gin before glancing up to Mateo.
Narrowing her eyebrows (spare though they might be), Flora nearly snarls out her response. "Or, maybe you should stop pushing your stupid flowers onto everyone. All I've got are stupid flowers from people saying how sorry they are, and you know what? None of them made me feel better, so you can keep your everything diesand your flowers." The words snap out from her lips with more ferocity than anything Flora has managed over the last year, and if Mateo is surprised to hear them, Flora is just as surprised to have said them.
"...sorry, I just..I don't want stuff. I don't want anything." Save for Enzo, but that wasn't even worth saying.
Huffing out a sigh, Flora rests the side of her head on her knees and gazes up at Mateo. "Dad? You can't be serious." She says rolling her eyes.
Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness 'Cause it's all over now, all out to sea
"Well, obviously. I don't have to do anything I don't want to," Mateo says with a shrug, though that very quickly turns into a flinch at the sudden and unexpected bite of her words. Instinctively not one for conflict (and also used to everyone, y'know, liking him), the botanist rakes sandy fingers back through his curls and hunches his shoulders. He waits for Flora to finish, and then to apologise, and even a couple of moments after that.
"My flowers are not stupid," he says quietly, collecting up the sunflowers to sit them in his lap, leaving the gin. It matters less.
"Why wouldn't I be serious? You know that letters reach him, so the only reason he wouldn't have heard from you is if you hadn't sent him anything." Sure, they only ever respond once in a blue moon, and Mateo isn't sure how many letters actually get opened, but... whatever, right?
"If you don't want anything, then why do you come out here every day? You could be like this at home."
i've told you time and time again i'm not as think as you drunk i am
"No, no of course they aren't." Flora says instantly, leaning over to one side that she might press her shoulder against Mateo's in a gesture meant to convey apology. If this had been Enzo he'd have made some joke, or kissed her forehead, or otherwise smoothed away her worries. He was magnanimous like that; with her at least. But this wasn't Enzo, and much as Flora desperately wanted to project her twin onto every surface around her, it wasn't fair to project him onto Mateo. "I'm just...it all still feels so hard." She murmurs and shrugs.
Flora's aqua stare turns flat at that. "I don't know why you defend him like that. He's the parent here. It's my twin who was killed. I shouldn't have to be the one to write a fucking letter to get his attention." Yes, Remi had come to her in a dream, and no, it wasn't like there was anything he could do, but...well, if he didn't want to have all the blame put on his shoulders, maybe he should get off his fucking mountain about it.
Blinking soberly, Flora turns her gaze back out toward the sea. "Because I see him, when I'm home. He's everywhere there. And in the town, at the bar, in the streets...but out there.." A smile appears at the same time a sheen of tears do. "I know he isn't out there."
Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness 'Cause it's all over now, all out to sea
There's no joke and no forehead kisses, but Mateo does let an arm stretch around his sister's shoulders, enveloping her for a moment in the scent of smoke and vanilla and bergamot before releasing her again. "It is still hard, that's why," he mumbles. And as for Remi? "Your twin was killed. My brother was killed. His son was killed," he reminds her, for what doesn't feel like the first time.
Following her gaze out towards the sea, Mateo's brow furrows and he sighs. "There would be room for you, if you moved to Stormbreak," he tells her, again, probably not for the first time. Somewhere that Enzo had never been, never could be. But he gets the feeling that she'd be adverse to not seeing him everywhere as well.
i've told you time and time again i'm not as think as you drunk i am
Just as Flora considers relaxing in Mateo's embrace, his words have her stiffening and curling in on herself. For better or worse, and based on posts alone, she truly believes she has the worst of it. Of all of them she was closest to Enzo, and though she isn't so selfish as to want to keep Mateo from grieving, Remi, certainly, was owed a good amount of blame. Right or wrong, nothing would make her think he didn't. 'Thanks for the reminder.' Flora snaps unhappily, tugging herself away from Mateo.
"Stormbreak is gross." Flora says confidently, despite having never been there. In reality, it just wreaked of all the ways in which she was made to feel like an outsider: it was a place that neither her twin or nona could go, a place ruled by Ronin, a place that Mateo fit in so well. "I'm allowed to be sad, you know." She says, turning hurt and lonely blue eyes toward her sibling before sulkily pressing her chin to her knees.
Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness 'Cause it's all over now, all out to sea
"Oh, I am terribly sorry, is the news that you are not the only one feeling bad about everything interrupting your vibe?" Mateo fights the urge to roll his eyes, letting Flora extract herself and casting blue eyes back out to sea. "Stormbreak is beautiful. You are gross." Because two can play at the low blow game. (And maybe he is still feeling sore about her remarks about his flowers).
"No one is debating whether or not you are allowed to be sad," Mateo says. "But you can be sad without completely neglecting yourself and making the people who love you worry. Fuck me though, I guess." Shaking his head, Mateo gathers up his sunflowers and rises to his feet. "I am going to the Hanged Man. You should come."
i've told you time and time again i'm not as think as you drunk i am
"No it isn't interrupting my vibe," Flora snaps back. "But you know what? You and Enzo never even really hung out, and Dad never really paid much attention to us, so if everyone could stop acting like they're somehow just as upset, that would be great." Colour and heat rush into Flora's cheeks, but by now she's too far up her own ass to care much for the coherency of what she's saying. "And I had to see it. I was there." She adds, triumphantly, before instantly feeling like she was going to vomit.
"Yeah, fuck you is right. You don't get to be bossy just because you're doing okay. You don't get to start caring about me now." Tears sting at the back of her eyes, but her tongue, caged for far too long, is enjoying this bout of freedom too much to be silenced behind her teeth.
"Congratulations on doing the bare minimum Mateo. Dad would be so proud to see how perfectly you're following in his footsteps."
Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness 'Cause it's all over now, all out to sea
