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!
01-02-2023, 12:08 AM (This post was last modified: 01-02-2023, 12:00 PM by Deimos.)
Deimos
suns for bones and constellations for eyes
Winter pressed and it was a home within a home; the frigid air conforming around furs and pelts and cheeks, granting the wild locks of his hair another sweep and turn. It gave Deimos an ease that shouldn’t have existed – but such had always been his way, to settle in amidst scores of adversity, revolution, and bedlam; comfortable in the contortions of chaos. Repose held a certain sway to his shoulders too, so they weren’t so damned heavy, even when laden with responsibilities, when there were other promises and convictions on the horizon.
It helped to have the Evergreen at his side, in ways he’d yet to find to describe, paramount and preeminent. The piercing slate of his gaze settled on her from over his shoulder, jaw gesturing to the next street in a single nod of his head, as they dragged the sled down ramparts and avenues. It made a jostling sound, but didn’t echo, sliding easily across pockets of snow and stone, carrying the bundles of wood for their citizens.
On a mercurial tease and with only boyish intentions of where he poked and prodded, he pulled out a granola bar from his pocket, opening the wrapper with a subtle grin as it crinkled. “Want some?”
Winter has begun to truly set in, and though she was not born in Halo’s reaches, enough winters have been spent now that it feels as familiar as the frosted reaches of the Grounds had once been. It feels strange to think she has been leading Halo with Deimos at her side for a year now. That they have been together just as long. Watching him habitually from the corner of her eye - always subconsciously tracking where he is in relation to her, like the needle of a compass tracking true North - Evie ponders at how he still manages to enchant her.
Even these habitual chores, more frequent now with the season, never fade or become weary with repetition. There is always something new, something interesting - be it a citizen’s response or, currently, the flirt of juvenile intent in Deimos’ mouth as he procured a granola bar. Intrigued, and incapable of turning down food on any given day, the Evergreen crosses over behind the sled in an crunch of boots on snowy cobblestone and eyes the wrapper like a magpie. “What flavor is it?” As if she’d turn it down regardless, but he’ll sell her faster on it (read: she will try to snatch it faster) if it has chocolate in it.
Not one to ever wax poetical, but had she required it, Deimos would’ve listed all the ways for when, how, and why Evie was cherished. Even amidst the easygoing sanctity of simply delivering timber to their fellow citizens, he lacked the residual nonchalance and stoicism, or the fierce, feral guard he often steeled and armored himself with. There was no need of it here – at home, and happy.
Though, for as long as he’d known her, rarely had the flavor of food mattered – so he was quick to narrow his eyes in suspicion and dubious materials; his own intentions marshalled in. “Chocolate,” he announced with a pretensive, haughty indulgence, and by way of this particular round of teasing, broke off singular, small pieces, reaching forward to turn over her palm and let her have the granules.
And knowing far better, immediately and swiftly, despite his size, seizing the threads of the sled and dashing further down the cobblestones, echoes of boyish laughter resounding against the houses.
It must surely be amusing from the outside, the way they both eye each other with suspicion, walking on egg shells around a granola bar. But they are both terribly mischievous individuals, and food-motivated ones at that. Nothing deserved their weariness more than that tiny, wrapped morsel right now. Moreso once it is confirmed that it is indeed chocolate.
Brightening (the fool), Evie holds out her hand as instructed - and makes a strangled noise of injustice as mere crumbs are deposited in her palm as a token of tomfoolery. "You-!" she cries, and leaps after him immediately, the two (three, if the sled counted) dashing down the street helterskelter. She can't very well trip him with her earth magic without forsaking the sled, so Evie uses her telekinesis instead to unlace his boots, hoping to slow him enough to leap onto his back from behind.
Their antics ultimately scattered a few passersby, though two Wardens rampaging down the street at high speeds looking rather foolish tended to do that. Some, used to the antics, simply moved out of the way before they were run over with a sled, and the Sword made sure to still toss bundles a wood as they passed by neighboring stoops and doorframes during his evasion.
That a boot would be left behind hadn’t quite occurred to him, and a with a rumbling sigh, he turned back to see it haphazardly run over with the vessel, and then Evie close behind. On a more mischievous and obnoxious note, and knowing he was about to be caught, he stuffed the rest of the granola bar into his mouth.
“Really,” he muttered around the food as she collided into his frame, though out of habit his arms adjusted, hands snagging around her legs so she wouldn’t end up falling backwards in her haste.
Admittedly, there are far more rolled eyes and easy sidestepping citizens than those startled by their antics, which likely says something about their ruling habits - good things, in Evie's professional opinion. Isn't it impressive to see your Warden throwing firewood bundles like newspapers while running with a full mouth, pulling a sled, and being pursued by his fellow leader? Evie's doing them all a favor by inspiring this show.
Colliding against Deimos' back with an oomph, the Evergreen pulls herself to see above his shoulder, and makes a scandalized noise to find his cheeks bulging with what should have been her granola. Appreciating the extra lift of his hands beneath her thighs, she pokes angrily at the bulge in his cheek, humor in her bright blue eyes. "You should have expected retribution in the first place," she harrumphs pompously. Then, shifting gears quite plainly, she lays her cheek on his shoulder and bats her eyes at him, badly concealing a grin. "Surely you have another, right?"
Oh, he had expected some form of vengeance, but it was all the more amusing to tease and taunt, see what other things he could pull out of her. Cleverness, persistence, perseverance, flushed cheeks or wayward mischief; content with explorations of any of the latter. Besides, there were far worse actions they could be doing in the middle of the day. Like presently, he mulled over the possibility of dumping her in a nearby snowbank, but the lost article of clothing prevented him from too much – for the moment.
Cheeks still bulging as he divested the rest of the granola with satisfying, and loud, crunches, he angled his eyes and head to catch her glances, the batting of lashes earning her not much more than a snort. Eventually he swallowed the rest of the chocolate infused bar, contemplating the next range of actions. “I do,” but he wasn’t going to tell her where, not without some form of compromise. “I will trade you for my boot.”
She clings rather determinedly to his back, if only for self-preservation. Fully aware he has the power to tilt her off into the snow, or take them running off down some alley as an unexpected rider. For now he remains suspiciously still - at least until he proposes a trade, making Evie glance over her shoulder at where the boot still spins loosely in mid-air, held in the grip of her telekinesis. Seeing it in her possession almost makes the crunch of him eating the granola bearable.
"Hmm, a fair proposal," she murmurs almost to herself, and turns back around to loop her arms more comfortably around his neck, fingertips tapping idly at his chest. "We each keep the item in one hand, trade into the other?" She wouldn't trust handing over his boot without doing it at the same time as him relinquishing the goods he'd undoubtedly squirreled away into an unexpected place. Perhaps she should get a magical food detector...
Her response caused a narrowing of his eyes, inscrutable and nonchalant, no great revelation to the way his mind began churning again. There were many options and opportunities in their wake, but he was being generous in his asinine and juvenile way. Distrustful too, maybe, by the way his head still tilted and watched her, in the ridiculous antics they displayed. Only in these instances did his specious, furtive notions ever carve a jaundiced accord in her direction, for obvious reasons.
The piercing slate of his gaze fixated on the way his boot twisted and turned in the air, knowing he had other predilections brewing. “Sure,” was a firm tone, as if set in stone. For a moment, he released one of her legs simply for his hand to reach down towards a pants pocket, retrieving said granola bar, one of many hiding places. “When you are ready,” came along a low rumble, jaw indicating the shoe would need to be in her possession.
Even as they eye one another more like cowboys in an old Western about to duel in the main street, there is an underlying lightness, a humor that - for Evie, eternally incapable of keeping a pokerface when the stakes are so minimal - is difficult to conceal.
The hold of her own thighs around his waist means she barely dips as he withdraws one of his hands to procure a second bar in offering. Evie eyes it, magpie tendencies insistent she check that it is of fair and equal value (read: has chocolate too) before she agrees to his terms. Imperious and decisive, she nods firmly, and brings the boot closer with a little nudge from her magic. Pulling one hand away from where it had been stabilizing against his shoulder, she plucks it from the air - and then holds herself with only her legs so that she might open the other palm up, awaiting the trade. Biting the corner of her lip to try and force it into a neutral expression, Evie lets one brow rise expectantly as if to say ready?
These makeshift duels were better circumstances – both of them had been in far more dire situations that ensured life or death situations. Granola bars and boots might’ve been a hard-fought battle in the way they’d reached those points in life – trading off horrific occurrences for the earned thresholds of these mischievous decrees. Instead of terrifying monsters or malicious wounds, the weight of grief or the harsh outline of melancholy, there were airy configurations of juvenile supremacy. Portions of light that, years before, he wouldn’t have bothered glancing at. Not with the way the shadows had pulled the anguish in his eyes.
The present was far more triumphant. He still gave her a side-eye meant to inflict manifested suspicion, but as the boot came floating along, an airy portrayal, his gaze narrowed, reaching out to place the granola bar in her outstretched palm, and with the other hand, snagging at the shoe. “Thank you,” he murmured in a low rumble again, as if the trade was imminently satisfying.
While these waged wars involve only two soldiers, they are far more preferable to the darkness they’ve both waded through in past years. They have earned their happiness, and it was hard won and long earned. Evie will gladly sacrifice a few eye rolls and amused passerby if it means they both get to keep this.
The exchange goes far too smoothly, making Evie squint suspiciously, but the bar in her hand is too enticing to prolong opening it. Still, she spares a moment to grin, breaking the wary expression with brightness as she kisses his cheek. “Always good doing business with you my love,” she murmurs against his skin with a laugh. Parting only to immediately rip the wrapper open and take a large bite, clearly pleased - and not intent on getting off his back anytime soon.
Some rumble came along the acceptance, as they both adhered to the trade without any further parameters or antics. He took half a moment to drop the boot to the snow-laden ground and place his foot back within, and in that space of time he was viciously tempted to up-end her over his shoulder. The Sword could imagine some wailing, screaming, screeches reverberating along the cobblestones and homes, but upon surveying the amount of timber still left in the sled, he justified the juvenile inclinations with only a subtle twist of his snicker.
His hands remained along her legs to ensure she didn’t drop off into the road, despite earlier notions, and carted the vessel along as well. But recognition upon the next house gave him a noticeable alteration in his spine, straightening and tightening, as the Seawrights’ residence became more and more evident before them.
Deimos didn’t hide the sigh beginning to build in his chest, and eventually escaping through a long breath, puffing out into the air. Having no grudge or bitterness towards Talyson’s siblings, nor the family overall, he wouldn’t pass by without offering the same as everyone else – but the rancor remained, lodged somewhere in his bones. His vocals muffled the irritation though, granting Evie a chance. “Do you want to do the honors?”
She can sense the mischief building as he bends over and slightly tenses her thighs in response, knowing she would be utterly hopeless at fending off any move to unseat her no matter her preparations. It seems he intends to take mercy on her - or at least her pride - because he straightens back up with no further fanfare. Evie tucks her face into the crook of his neck and the lined collar there, hiding her fond smile in its folds.
He carries her onward easily, as if her weight meant nothing, and Evie takes the time to close her eyes and listen to the world around them. Snatches of conversation as they pass, the rhythmic slide of the sled's runners over the snow-slick pavement, Deimos' breathing and the pulse that thuds in his neck. She is filled with a deep sense of peace and belonging. Even these small measures of caring for their people together provides a sense of fulfillment, a purpose she'd never been entirely missing, but one that had blossomed fully the moment she'd stepped into the Citadel so many years ago.
The change in his breathing alerts her first, and Evie immediately lifts her head, blinking eyes against the brightness of the snow once more to determine what had caused the change. Though, given his reaction, it should've been obvious. "I should," she ventures quietly. "I have something extra for them anyway." Talyson's sister had been more than pleasant at the training Sah had organized, and Evie was used to being the bigger person; no matter how Talyson may still despise her, despite the small progress made over the last year, Evie would not scorn him in return. Shuffling off Deimos' back, Evie grabs one of the bundles from the sled and pulls her own roll off her belt from beneath her coat before approaching the house and laying both down side-by-side on the doormat. Retreating quickly - Gods forbid Tal is inside watching from the window and cursing Evie's germs being left all over his doorstep - the Evergreen hurries back to Deimos. "It's mostly for his sisters, but I got a good deal on waterproof bags recently. Why not, right?" She shrugs a little sheepishly, cheeks a tad pink. Evie knows it's a hopeless endeavor, but she isn't known for giving up easily either.
