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!
Every time Isla comes here, she wonders whether the portal will open. The one that showed the way into a realm of dragons and oddities, where she'd taken the Prince's hand and turned him back into a man. It never does, but she wonders all the same.
Tonight it's raining, and the Last Step is slippery as she makes her way to the very top, her hands tucked in the pockets of her coat. The garment feels heavy with the water, but it doesn't really matter. Nothing does, any more.
Once she reaches the top of the strange, freestanding staircase, Isla stares out and down. A fall like this probably wouldn't kill her, she reasons. It might break a few bones and her sensors would be quite unhappy, but she'd live.
If it hadn't been raining, she might have built a bonfire to crackle and sear beneath the Last Step. She might have toasted marshmallows for old time's sake, might have held one-sided conversations with people she'll never see again. Might have done a lot of things, after that.
Alas, today it's just Isla and the rain, and thoughts of the lives she lived before this one.
It isn’t unlike him these days to find his own little refuge within the safe haven he’d made. Sure, the magic stopping capabilities were gone now and people were free to come and go as they pleased, which allows for the Flood to remain there in his attempts at isolating himself. It helps that the majority have departed once the war had lifted and the years after as they sought to rebuild. Sunjata, however, couldn’t quite rebuild his mental state enough to move on – returning to a place he’d made for Nate and the others as if he did it enough times that time would turn back and he’d have another shot at saving them.
He’s just passing through, a dragon in the sky (no other shift could compare to what he feels on the inside when he’s in these moods), and he zips past the top of the Last Steps without realizing it only to find what he imagines to be a familiar face. Of course, still untrusting of his mind and having no one there to soothe his inner anxieties about it anymore, he turns back only to find that he had been correct.
The dragon shifts to a bat, something lightweight and smaller, landing on the edge of the steps and shifts back into himself, sitting on the ledge as he peers up at Isla with sad steel, and without much else of an answer or greeting to her (the last time they’d seen one another had been hard enough as is), he simply just reaches up for her arm to tug her down beside him in silence.
love will save you, but it won't save me
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
Isla sees the shadow overhead, but does nothing, and she's similarly unfazed as it shrinks and becomes something fluttering and leathery; only as a hand, a real, human hand, snatches out to tug her down does she respond. And then it's with suspicion and claws raised to strike, only to find herself bumbled unceremoniously to sit with Sunjata. The unexpected familiarity of the gesture is enough to have the blades receding back into her fingers, her lips parting with a soft, "Oh."
If she had breath in her lungs it would have stuttered, and if she had a heartbeat it would have skipped like a wild thing in her chest. As it is, she can merely gape at him for a moment, as if trying to gauge whether or not he's real. And then - and thank goodness for the rain to disguise it - it's with tears in her eyes that she reaches out to touch his shoulder, his cheek. "It has been a very long time," she whispers to him.
The glint of claws aren’t a surprise – not after what’s happened to them. And truth be told, he’s perfectly fine with it if she wanted to sink them into his hand. She doesn’t, though, and instead manages to sit beside him even if it was a bit of a forced gesture by his tug. They’re both too tired to actually fight anything these days anyway. It was the name of the game – both of them drenched in rain that they know to one another doesn’t hide the tears, but the fact they pretend anyway is a fact in and of itself.
Her hand touches his shoulder and his cheek and he pulls her in against his chest, pressing his cheek against the crown of her head. “Too long. I’m sorry I haven’t... Checked in.” A ghost on the wind, unable to be caught and captured, unable to dwell in one space for too long for fear of the memories creeping in, awake throughout the night with the nightmares that raged and no one beside him to soothe him the second he woke.
His leg swings over the edge of the Last Step and he takes a deep, shaky inhale. “I haven’t been around much.” Physically, yes. Emotionally? Absolutely not.
love will save you, but it won't save me
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
"You know you don't have to apologise to me," Isla says in a voice that's trying not to crack, just as Sunjata draws her against his chest and there's no use trying to hold it together. Her arms work around him, her head pressed against his shoulder, and even though she has no need of it, a sigh shudders out from her body, forcing parts of her to relax that seem perpetually held tense.
"I don't blame you," she continues; not for disappearing, not for shutting down and closing in on himself. "It still feels like it only happened yesterday." Hugging him tightly, it's a moment or two before she can draw back even enough to look up at him, absently wiping at his wet face with her sleeves. "You don't look like it was only yesterday, though." Smiling weakly, it's the politest way she can think of saying you kind of look like shit.
“I feel like I do.” Not just to her but everyone he interacted with. It was a unique change of pace, however, to be able to be himself around her – no use in pretending when they both were in the same boat. He feels her relax as he tugs her in against his chest, his cheek pressed against hers as the rain continues to batter on and he eventually grows a bit tired of it, partially shifting that leathery dragon wing to flex above them as a little makeshift umbrella.
There’s a low rumble of agreement as she mentions it still feels like yesterday. “It does.” Its part of the reason it’s been so hard – no ability for him to cope with it, just the reminder day after day that each morning he wakes up his life is forever different. It’s also not like he’s got good dreams to fall asleep to, either. Just one thing on top of another.
There’s a small weak smile that meets her own when she wipes away the rain and tears of his face, a shoulder rising and falling. “Haven’t been able to cope the usual ways and I’ve avoided seeing Frey. So… I’ve just been wandering.” He murmurs, casting his steel gaze over her face, his warm hand reaching her shoulder now and squeezes lightly. “What have you been doing?”
love will save you, but it won't save me
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
"Well if it'll make you feel better you can, but I just want you to know you don't have to," Isla says with a weak smile, glancing up at the leathery wing that spreads over them, casting them in an even blacker shade of midnight. Her hands drop from his face to rest against his chest, the Remedy managing a lopsided shrug in response to his question.
"Well," she says softly, "I haven't been able to cope the usual ways. The Voice is gone and I've avoided speaking to Dygra, the goddess of the Ancients. So... I've just been wandering." It's a sad parallel, when she gives it too much thought, though it sounds better coming from Sunjata's lips.
"Honestly," she says in a quieter voice, "I wonder whether I ought to just walk into the Climb and burn. I don't have anything left here to live for, Sunjata." And that's the sad truth of it.
“It isn’t that I don’t want to.” Because it would probably help – like it had before, of course in the most unhealthy of ways. Alcohol, sex, anything to avoid feeling a single thing. “I’ve been ending up feeling incredibly guilty about it the second I try.” Another noncommittal shrug offered as her hand finds his chest, to the heartbeat settled beneath it and his arm slips back around to her back, alongside her shoulderblade.
It is a sad parallel, the things they’ve been doing to try and deal. And as her voice drops and she offers the brutal honesty that he’s been struggling with day after day, well, the Flood sucks in a long slow breath, nodding without a single ounce of judgement. “I spent a few hours on the Ahi Coast debating whether I should drown myself or not.” He admits equally as quietly – a little, I understand. “I don’t know what to do either. I’m here still because of the twins and that’s the… Only thing I have and even still, seeing them just reminds me of him and I’ve… unfortunately been quite an absent father because of it.” Something he regrets but can’t force himself into being better at.
So it’s this rut they find themselves in, Sunjata leaning back against the last little pillar for the Last Step, bringing her with him. “I can’t tell you what to do but… just know I’d miss you.”
love will save you, but it won't save me
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
"I don't think he would want you to feel guilty," Isla begins softly, before catching herself and letting out a mirthless laugh. "And I know Varus wouldn't want me to wander around aimlessly, never feeling much more than okay about things, and even that's rare. But..."
Sniffing and wiping at her cheek with her shoulder, she scoffs. "He isn't here to stop me, is he? Because he's dead. So fuck you, Varus. Fuck you for dying, I'll do what I want." It's petty and she doesn't mean it and the tears that glisten in her eyes say as much, but gods, what else is there?
The heart beating beneath her hand is almost like a lifeline in its constant drum, and her fingers flinch to hear that he's considered the same thing. It sounds different, somehow, coming from Sunjata. "I'd miss you as well," she says, peering up at him and letting him shift against the pillar. "I have missed you."
“Probably not.” He hums, working his jaw as he focuses on some dark speck in his wing – a scar more than likely that he can’t remember how he’d gotten it. They could rationalize it all they want and yet it would still keep him up at night, still manage to keep him tied up on the inside until he didn’t know which way was up, tearing at himself to get the feeling and weight to go away.
He can’t help but to hum his own quiet huff of a laugh as her pettiness rears its head, the tears betraying the words for what they were and Sunjata nods, squeezing her against him again in perfect understanding. “Supposed to live on, you know. Move on, forget about the pain, blah blah blah.” He drawls, shrugging lightly as the soft exhale leaves his lips.
She peers up at him, though, and his gaze leaves the speck in his wing to look down at her, a small smile tugging on the corner of his lips. “I’ve missed you too.” It’s a whisper that leaves him, one that hes unable to give much voice to. “And I’m sorry about what happened with Varus.” He adds on, his smile faltering. “Shit’s unfair isn’t it?”
love will save you, but it won't save me
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
It's with a very unladylike snort that Isla finds herself pressed back against Jata's chest, her chin resting against his shoulder, his heartbeat thrumming against her enough that, if she forgets to think about it, perhaps she can pretend it's her own. "Do you ever worry that if you forget about the pain it will be like they were never here?" she mumbles. "Because I know it's silly and it's not true, but... I still think about it."
Perhaps that's why she wanders, to refuse to give herself any chance at healing. If she's just existing, then it's as though she can pretend she's still in that grey, strange place before realising what had happened to Varus, to the Voice. There's still hope if she's not moving forward, however much of a lie it might be.
Peering up at him, Isla manages a very small smile and nods. "Shit's so unfair," she agrees in a whisper. "I just wish you could see my memory from back then. Nate was... he was amazing out there. You'd have been proud."
“Every time.” Sunjata responds softly – having experienced this more times than he cared to admit, each one was all the same – the guilt for moving on, the guilt for not hurting as much when seeing the bits and pieces of them (the way that Frey had become a mixture of Nate and Lusea and at some point, seeing Lusea combined with Nate hadn’t hurt.) But now? Now its just reminder of his failed relationships, the failure of them a weight he carries on his shoulders despite how he knows he shouldn’t.
Her agreement is one that he nods to, but as she continues and speaks about how Nate was in those final moments, he shies away, head tilting away from her as he refrains from imagining it. “I was always proud of him.” He admits in a soft whisper. “I just selfishly wish that there was no reason for the stupid war. If only they’d talked, maybe everyone would still be here.” Not only had he lost Nate, but he’d lost the Ascended too, and with the previous year and silence from those that have been lost he’s realized that the only friend he has left is her.
And he hasn’t even been around to help her with anything, selfishly grieving on his own, hiding himself away.
love will save you, but it won't save me
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
Nodding at that, Isla chooses not to think about her own every time. It doesn't hurt as much to think of Remi some days, but in others the wound is as fresh as ever, and gods, is it wrong to be so tired of grief? Glancing up in time to catch him looking away, she absently smooths out a wrinkle on his shirt caused by the wind and rain, offering an apologetic smile.
"You had a lot to be proud of," she assures him, fixing his collar before reminding herself not to fuss, letting her hands drop. "Maybe," she agrees, though she sounds a touch doubtful, if only because those who needed to talk were the gods rather than the people. "At least it is over now. I know that sounds terrible, given everything we lost, but... I couldn't go through that again, I don't know about you."
He knows he did, and he didn’t (still doesn’t) appreciate them for what they are. There’s a large part of him that would rather love the man that fled the war and became a deserter for it, than to be proud of the things that got him killed. But again, he’s delving into his selfishness, a fact that has only ever seemed to get him in trouble.
At the mention of doing it over again, though, Sunjata shrugs, ruining the fact that she’d fussed over the wrinkle in his shirt as it makes another a few inches below. He works his jaw, before his anxiety eats at his stomach again and a promise he’d made bubbles up to the surface, something he’d break for his now closest friend. His free hand rises and he rubs at his temple, eyes shutting as he puffs out a quiet sigh. “It wasn’t bad in the Refuge. And I was terribly optimistic about it. So fucking confident that things would end up okay.” Once he starts the words, they don’t stop tumbling from his lips.
“And I regret it, a lot of it, because while I was having a decent time, everyone else suffered. I mean, I don’t know when Nate died. Was it when I was helping one of the kids there with a study he was working on? Or was it later when I was fucking… Fucking Phoebe?” He grits out, the fingers splaying across his eyes now.
love will save you, but it won't save me
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
