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!
For what it was worth, the stick did snap, breaking in between his fingers with an audible splintering. His nose wrinkled and, should she have turned to look, there’d be an obvious pout from having his sport and fun abolished. Half a moment longer and his mind was already churning to the next available token of mischief though, snagging at a nearby patch of moss already well tread upon.
Toying with it in his palms, batting it back and forth not unlike a cat, his chest and tones rumbled with agreement at the assertions of heralds and their seasonal counterparts. “And we have had time,” with a shrug of his shoulders. Though, from his recollection, the Eirachi’s claims of any recent venture had been with Wessex and the Ascended, striving to break through the Sea of Glass for a relic they wouldn’t have. Efforts and glories turned and churned to nothing. There was little doubt in his mind that the winter goddess had still demanded her price.
As for Ghilio’s shrine, he paused much like the Evergreen, considering the weight of what he’d carried. Working off of previous sojourns into the desert, his contribution would be in the form of a canteen. “Brought water from the streams in Halo.” He hastened it off his belt, listening as the clip reverberated as he placed it upon the pedestals. “Since he needed it so badly in Hak Etme.”
think about this you have the ability to survive anything
Evie allows herself to grin triumphantly as the stick snaps, keeping her head firmly pointed forward so he can't use it as further incendiary ammunition for mischief she is confident is still coming down the pipe. But as they give their offerings at Ghilio's shrine, Evie languishes in the sanctity of the altar's space; Deimos would likely continue his teasing after they'd departed.
"Ah, that's smart," she murmurs appreciatively, slightly distracted by perusing all the other offerings dotting the monument. While Halo's streams do not have the healing properties of those found in the Climb, they are undoubtedly crisp and free of extra sediment and minerals. Taking a moment for quiet prayer, Evie touches her hand to the altar and silently prompts a few flowers to bloom in spaces where their roots can thrive even after she leaves them.
Opening her eyes, she steps away to allow Deimos his own moment if he so chooses. When he is done, she asks something she has considered for no small amount of time, but which seems to spring free unbidden with no regard for timing. "You have life drain, right? Has that ever been...at odds, with Safrin?"
Placing the moss in his pockets for further antics away from shrines, he paused in the art of mischief for the sanctity of the expanse. Refraining from ruining Evie’s prayers, he waited in silence while she conducted incantations, watching the flowers bloom along arches of stone, vines, and timber. Only after she gave the living adornments did he maneuver into the space, unfurling a long, slow breath, instilling some manner of respect upon the intertwining limbs and canopies.
He twisted the lid off the canteen, pouring the water along intervals of rock and greenery, spread out over the venue as he bowed his head, contemplated meanings and gestures. Perhaps they ought to express gratitude for another season with peace, rather than maelstroms, so the extension came through his quiet vigil, and only when he stepped back, surveyed, did he permit any other thoughts to linger.
Like Evie’s inquiry – and he tilted his head, arching his brow a fraction. “Not that I am aware of.” And Safrin certainly let it be known any other time she’d disapproved of his actions. “It is something not in my control. I was born with the ability,” so perhaps she couldn’t condemn the enchantments pulsing through his veins. “Why do you ask?”
think about this you have the ability to survive anything
It's a crime that she misses his covert pocketing of the moss, because it will likely bite her in the ass later - but she is far too distracted with her prayers and the overall beauty of a shrine she has not had the honor of seeing before. They give each other the space and time they both need for their honors, and only then does Evie maneuver past gifts and growth alike to return to Deimos' side - just in time to pose her question.
"I guess it's a silly question since it's tied to being Abandoned anyway, which is already a hurdle with most heralds." Shaking her head slightly, fiery hair swaying loose, the Evergreen gives a slightly self-conscious smile and a shrug. "I was wondering if I should pray to her the next time I visit a shrine. For Halo, or just my own desires. I know Frey is our unofficial patron of course," she hastens to include, aware that Safrin - vain and fond of loyalty - would likely be unhappy if called upon so late in the game. "But I don't know if she would be as personally accepting of me as Frey - my magic is pretty evenly split between Vi and Rae if we were to ascribe them realms, but it's magic all the same." And therefore just as tainted as any other in the eyes of the Old Gods.
Waiting for some manner of philosophies to play out, he was all the more surprised at Evie’s proclamation. A touch of a smile ghosted along his mouth, before his eyes gazed over the shrine again, taking a moment or two to ponder over the meanings in between. “I think you should pray to whomever you find suitable.” He’d found Safrin preferable, due to affiliations with Amalia, and the incessant need to become something more. Perhaps one of the first intervals where he’d done something for himself.
Glancing back down, the shrug in his shoulders couldn’t be contained, always having difficulty in understanding the nuances in a herald’s mind, and eternally reluctant to speak for them. But he could give his opinions, thoughts, and feelings on the journeys taken – long roads of learning, and all their unknown pathways. “I think she was accepting of me because I was willing to be empowered by her.” Changed, altered. “The magic that courses through our veins matters, but not in the elements. Just in the existence of it at all.” And he’d still bear each one with pride, and not one drop of shame.
Beginning to meander away from the shrine, he watched and waited, pondering if they should head back home, or simply take, wile, away their time. “Was there something you wanted to ask for?”
think about this you have the ability to survive anything
Evie concedes with a tilt of her head, aware of the soundness of the advice. "Until recently, I didn't even think I'd ever be answered. Part of why I was considering going to Safrin is to try and break the fear of only requesting Frey since I know they are accepting of me now." Previously she would have happily lived in that bubble, content to stay where she was comfortable, but only by pushing that boundary after believing all hope to be lost was she visited by a herald at all.
Following his lead with no clear desire to linger, Evie absorbs his wisdom readily. Safrin's temperament is relatively unknown to her, but she has photosynthesized most of it from her closeness with both Deimos and Amalia - enough to know there were risks to praying to her if she wasn't the primary herald you sought to follow. While she will never fully understand his pride in his magic being so inherent, it is something hard-learned she has adopted over many years and strives to naturalize in herself.
Freckled cheeks flush slightly at his direct inquiry, shrugging a little self-consciously even as a tiny smile pulls at her lips. "A companion, I think. I know it can happen naturally sometimes, but..." another shrug. While she shamelessly wears her heart on her sleeve, this one feels harder. Like it implies she is somehow lonely, when that is far from the truth.
His eyes flickered upwards again, watching as Belial cast his obnoxious wake through several more branches and brambles, wings outstretched and dark amidst the shadows of the canopy. Acceptance had always been a difficult foundation for any Abandoned, and he could remember the instances spent on his knees in the breadths of silence, begging for absolution and strength, fortitude and might, and the answer startingly, glaringly clear. Nothing. Only when he’d built himself into something enduring again, had there been any opportunity at all to glance at the heralds, and even then, there’d been some brash, brazen schisms underneath the surface. A boldness, perhaps, an opportunity, but also some bitterness, some rancor; all altered in the years thereafter.
So it was understandable that Evie would want to try and branch out, to see who else might heed the call of one so willing. He’d done similar things – going to Ludo after falling apart, striving to find ways to see dead, dispersed, gone loved ones. Frey for Halo. He gave her a crooked grin, brushing and ducking below another set of branches. “Safrin craves loyalty and devotion.” Maybe a warning. Maybe a statement. An awareness grown from experiences. But he wouldn’t make the decision for her, nor push her in any direction. It was something Evie would need to do for herself. “But returns those notions too.” From healing, from wisdom, from advice.
His glance caught her flushed cheeks, the arch of his brow following the distinctions, confused for a moment, until the words rang clear. If she thought he’d wonder into the depths of it, Evie wouldn’t have to worry – not with someone who had two companions and having never snagged or bonded out of loneliness. “Belial did not put you off?” A warm chuckle followed through as the peryton hooted loudly again, echoing along leaves. “Were you thinking of any specific animal?”
think about this you have the ability to survive anything
It’s not the first that she has heard such a warning, but it doesn’t make it any less meaningful to be reminded. Perhaps the question now was less what did Evie want in a herald, but what was she willing to give? With her history, how devoted could she reasonably be? “I feel like I need to make her like me because she’s like a mother-in-law,” she snorts, clearly joking. If they ever did marry, Evie is unsure if she’d even want a herald present the way Safrin had been for Deimos and Amalia’s wedding. Deimos may be beloved, but Evie is still coasting along on Frey’s coattails in terms of acceptability to the gods.
Belial’s hoot is perfectly timed enough that it sounds like an objection, and Evie can’t help how a laugh startles out of her, loud and graceless. “You know he and I are peas in a pod!” A crinkle-nosed teasing expression is aimed his way, reminding him of all the hijinks they’d participated in that the Sword had effortlessly foiled. “It feels pretentious to ask for a specific kind honestly, so I’ve been struggling to come up with one. Something like a cat, fox, or other mammal maybe?” Thinking of it in any other way makes her feel as if she’s listing qualities that benefit her instead of being open to companionship in any form.
His initial response was to settle self-deprecating efforts on his tongue, to varnish away any of those doubting qualities from her own statement. He didn’t believe himself beloved by the herald, nor under her whims, and she’d certainly advocated for him to seek out measures of happiness for himself. But it was the other notions lain underneath those layers of jokes and snorts that gave him pause, consideration, an inward hesitation. So instead of wandering around the topic, Deimos assembled a pointed inquiry, watching her from the corner of his eye. “Is that something you are interested in? Marriage?” He’d learned, at the very least, from his short union with Amalia – to discuss, to not presume, to not leave everything muddled and confusing. He and Evie had already openly conversed and deliberated about children; but perhaps not the pathways before that. They’d taken their time.
Thereafter though, the Sword made earnest attempts to not let the piercing question hang there so precariously, offering a crooked grin again. Belial and Evie being on mutual wavelengths may not have been a good consideration or rally for another companion in the house, though the calm rumble he exuded thereafter was meant to be a jocular facet, rather than a prod into her notions. “Is it presumptuous to know what you want?” With a wink, his gaze flickered back to the trees, as Belial nearly rampaged into a bough, missing it by an inch. “Maybe you will happen across the opportunity. Something else that craves a bond.” With Zuriel, they’d both been self-sacrificing. With Belial, equal opportunists.
think about this you have the ability to survive anything
04-16-2023, 07:51 PM (This post was last modified: 04-16-2023, 07:52 PM by Evie.)
Evie
I see what lies heavy on your heart
It's certainly not the response she had anticipated, and though the topic is far from one she's uncomfortable with, the surprise alone makes her freckled cheeks hot and her tongue suddenly thick. It takes swallowing a few times to get her suddenly racing pulse down to a normal level, which thankfully also provides time for her brain to summon something more than 'brrrrrkkkkksssssbrrrr'. So hopefully she seems a little more put together as she also looks at him from the side of her eyes. "I don't think it's required in the least - I intend to grow old and gray with you regardless of whether we have rings or a ceremony," she answers bluntly, with no measure of their normal teasing and mischief to be found. "Part of me wants it to be a big, fun party if only because we have so few of those as is. And I won't say no to dressing up at any time." While the intimacy of Amalia and Deimos' wedding had been more befitting the two, Evie was different from the two of them in her desire to relish in joyous times with as many people as possible. Turning to face Deimos more fully, Evie smiles tenderly at him. "It would be nice to call you my husband, sue, but I don't see marriage as a requirement for lifelong commitment, or even children. But how do you feel?" Because they've learned through trial and tribulation that these conversations are needed, and emotional honesty and transparency cannot be overlooked.
The break in seriousness is still a relief even with that knowledge. She watches Belial nearly take out (or be taken out by) a branch, and snorts a laugh. "I'm not rushing it. We still have some work to do on the house anyway. Let's just hope it's something manageable," she chortles, envisioning another Belial type and the havoc it could wreak in its early years. Best not tangle baby animals with open beams and supports.
He watched the transformation of her features carefully, pondering if he’d overstepped sentiments, if the pointed juncture had been too much, or if neither of them were ready for such direct conversation. Ordinarily, he might’ve laughed at prompting the flush in her cheeks, but instead, he merely listened – at the way it wasn’t required, at the terms of commitment. He wasn’t surprised when the notions were volleyed back at him in return, and then he had to wade through his own thoughts and notions; because he’d attempted before, failed utterly, and had often wondered where he’d errored so grievously. If he’d be willing to strive once more.
But there they were, together, and maybe that said enough.
“I would not mind trying again,” the Sword started, staring straight ahead as he gathered all the machinations rummaging through his mind. Not because of parties or celebrations, but stability in their dedication and devotion – maybe even this was backwards thinking, considering how quickly his and Amalia’s had seemingly dissolved. Or progress, continually willing to place his heart on the line. “Perhaps not a requirement, but something I find meaning in nonetheless,” and he permitted the crooked grin to reappear, facing her thereafter. “My parents were not married, and I do not think I would wish the uncertainty and insecurity on children.” For as much as he’d loved them – his father had made some choices, and his mother the same.
Leaving that in the air for now, with a long breath, he watched Belial slide off into another portion of air, ducking below a branch, as if to evade the stupidity of his last near-encounter. “And not overly large.”
think about this you have the ability to survive anything
04-16-2023, 08:54 PM (This post was last modified: 04-16-2023, 08:56 PM by Evie.)
Evie
I see what lies heavy on your heart
He hasn't spoken much of his parents, but she can infer enough from past conversations and his current allusions to laugh a little under her breath. "It was the opposite for me - my parents were married, but they only ever pretended to be in love in public. Rings and ceremonies did little to keep them faithful." Which was how Amalia had come to be, cruel twist of irony that it was. Sometimes, Evie selfishly wishes they'd never found out - it made the woman's various betrayals sting more to have known they shared blood, even if it was from the worst side of her parentage.
"But that's why I'm ambivalent about it. I would marry you today if you asked me - or twenty years from now, or never." She reaches the small distance between them to take his hand loosely, swinging slightly as they walk. "If you find meaning in it, I'm happy to do it. Even a smaller one," she amends with a grin. Because as much as she loves parties - "It's not as if we know very many people anyway. Luckily, Halovian traditions are much more private. In the Grounds, they would have thrown a fit to miss their King and Queen marrying." Gossips and partiers, the lot of them. Such big news always had to be social events regardless of the desires of the intended.
He wrinkled his nose at her additions, because in the end, it probably only mattered about what they did, rather than the examples settling over their lineage. One couldn’t ignore the way their lives had played out or how they’d been influenced, but how they either overcame or rewrote the sentiments for themselves. “Well, I am always faithful,” he conspired with notions of reassurance and jocular mannerisms; or perhaps to set aside any other worries.
Deimos snorted at the today or twenty years elements, but curled his fingers around hers, let her hand slide along calloused palms. Maybe purposefully swinging their linked portions harder, for amusements sake, and to break up the seriousness. “It probably will not take me that long to plan a proposal,” another semblance of teasing on his residual rumbles; comforted again by the way they could openly discuss things with apt understanding of one another.
He scoffed at the party insinuation. “I know quite a few people,” whether or not he considered them friends or noteworthy enough to come to a wedding was another subject. The last statement caused a brief shudder through his shoulders though, because that sounded horrific. “Noah and Cordelia’s was nice.” And they could fling their unhinged mischief with no repercussions.
think about this you have the ability to survive anything
It's a good thing they are both so committed to ending the cycles their parents had created. In fact it is this quality in her partner that had cemented the surety of one day having kids with him, knowing he would commit himself just as faithfully as Evie herself to raising their children in a better home than the ones they'd known. Swinging her hand just as exuberantly as his, the Evergreen laughs, a chiming thing. "Yes, you are. Which is why I trust you regardless of whether we're married." And thus her ensuing ambivalence.
Little butterflies swarm in her stomach at the thought of a proposal coming at all, much less soon. It's a pleasant, tickling sensation that she still feels even after having languished into a rather happy, domestic life with him. "Just giving you plenty of time - margin for error and all that," she teases, though it's clear by the renewed pink in her cheeks that the romantic in her is jubilant at the idea of such a thing.
"You know a few, but how many would you feel inclined to invite?" Ginger brows dance and wiggle mischievously. Deimos is quite well-known and relied upon, but also tricky to befriend at times. "It was beautiful, I would love something like that. Maybe a few old Grounds traditions included admittedly, but just the ones I would miss." She is far more Halovian these days anyway. The memories of her upbringing will never fade, but her connection to it does - more so with every year.
