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!
i reach out to my lifeline, the angels laugh in paradise
The Last Whisper had grown in the couple of years since the fires ended, that was for sure. Not that El was overly familiar with the place, but no one in their right mind would have come seeking entertainment in the Hollowed Grounds in the year since the war ended. They wondered idly how such a secretive little place was able to draw so many people; perhaps word of mouth? If so, El had not been privy to the rumors, and had only just discovered the little covered alley a couple of weeks ago, by chance.
It was strange for them, seeing so many people concentrated in one place. It frightened them at first, and the first time they came, they spent only a few minutes there before leaving. However, over some time, they became more comfortable, even working up the nerve to go to a couple of shops and bars.
This is what they wanted to do when they came down here tonight, but first, they needed some money. People came to the Last Whisper with their coin purses full, so El didn't even have to steal the whole thing. Their usual plan went like this: they discretely broke a hole in someone's purse, then, as they helped the person pick their money off the floor, they made off with a bit of money. Just enough to get a drink, perhaps a curio from one of the boutiques. They were good at being quiet, at staying unnoticed, even with their above average height. They hadn't been caught before, though they'd only done this about two or three times in the past.
El waited until they spotted a possible target. Someone was standing at an open bar that lined the side of the way, and there was a lovely-looking crimson pouch on their hip. El wasted no time and sidled up behind them, making use of the crowded space to get within 5 feet. After a few seconds of concentration, the purse broke along the seam, and the sound of clattering coins filled the air.
"Oh my goodness, let me help you with that!" they said quickly, in their most concerned voice, disrupting the flow of people milling around them to bend down and start gathering coins.
George hadn't spent much time in the Hollowed Grounds, but he had a certain, shall we say, penchant for mischief. As a result, he could usually be found around other people, and so it was on this particular day.
He lounged against a bar, leaned back on his elbows with a drink in his hand, studying the surrounding crowd with a practiced gaze. His brown hair was tousled, as though he often ran a hand through it, but it somehow managed to look intentional on him. Blue eyes darted from person to person, subconsciously cataloguing them. Don't want to mess with him, probably a soldier. Maybe that one - she's got a fat purse. Or him, he's not paying attention... And so it went on.
It was thus that George found himself watching a particular person - not because they were a potential target, but because they were a potential thief. He grinned to himself as he watched them sidle up to a patron of a nearby bar, picking at the target's purse until it broke, scattering the contents on the ground. George tipped back his drink, draining it, and made his way over to the thief and their mark, crouching to help gather the coins. Most he handed back to the patron, but he was well-practiced in sleight of hand, so some off them would find their way eventually back to George's own wallet.
"Don't mind my sibling," he said to the patron, shooting a mischievous glance at the thief. "They're just clumsy."
if life had background music playing your song I've got to be honest - I tried to escape you but the orchestra plays on
i reach out to my lifeline, the angels laugh in paradise
El was happily swiping a couple of coins when someone else began to pick up the coins as well, someone entirely outside of the situation. El immediately became suspicious. Who was this man, and why was he making a big deal out of everything? They hoped he was just some kind stranger who wanted to help out of the goodness of his heart.
Then he claimed they were siblings, which was quite the ridiculous lie to El, as they looked almost nothing alike. Maybe he was trying to help somehow; maybe he knew all about El's little trick and was planning on snatching up their share of the pot. El cursed themselves internally for not making their disintegration magic more subtle. The patron looked disbelieving and started to count out their coins as they put them in their pockets. It was time to go.
"Reginald! I was looking everywhere for you!" El said the first name that popped into their head and tried to sound as genuine as they could. It was passable to those not paying close attention. They looped their arm around the man's shoulders and steered him away from the patron, pretending not to hear their call after them to stay. "I saw this pendant in a shop window I think you would love..." They said this loudly as they continued to walk into the crowd, then, when they were far enough away, they began to furiously whisper. "Who are you? What do you want from me? I swear I didn't take anything!" If he thought El had nothing, maybe he would leave them alone. But first, they had to make sure he wasn't a rat.
05-28-2023, 09:04 PM (This post was last modified: 05-28-2023, 10:21 PM by George.)
George
It was, perhaps, not the best ruse that George could have come up with, but hey, people could be adopted siblings, right? As the patron began to count their coins, the thief steered him hurriedly away. He went willingly along, chuckling to himself. If there was ever a way to scream suspicion, it was to run. He'd have to teach them a better distraction technique.
He leaned towards the thief, his eyes twinkling with good-natured roguishness. "Aye, just like I didn't take anything," he murmured with a wink, then flashed a piece of gold from between his fingers before tucking it away again. "Don't worry, love, your secret's safe with me. I'm George," he added, straightening and allowing his voice to rise to a normal level. "It's a pleasure..." He raised an eyebrow with a crooked grin, waiting expectantly for a name.
if life had background music playing your song I've got to be honest - I tried to escape you but the orchestra plays on
i reach out to my lifeline, the angels laugh in paradise
El watched George pull out some gold seemingly from nowhere and grin at them, winking. Their mouth opened in shock, then quickly closed, and they felt a little flame of indignation at his brazen cockiness. Then he, a complete stranger, called them a little pet name before introducing himself. It was quite the nerve, in El's opinion. A jumbled mixture of intrigue, shock, defensiveness, and, honestly, a small bit of attraction was tumbling around in El's stomach.
"Hawke," they introduced themselves, figuring that's the way it went in these circles; George was likely not his real name. "You from around here?" El had never seen him before; if he was from here, he had been competing with El this whole time, in a way. Or, perhaps, he was a potential ally. El wanted to know for sure, but couldn't quite yet. They glanced around for any sign of the person whose purse they'd broken, though they were quite a ways away now from that open bar area.
George couldn't help a crooked grin as his new friend gaped at him, enjoying the sensation of being shocking. He kept an ear behind them and heard no commotion, no shouts of, "Thief!" Stopping to seemingly look at the wares of a nearby stall, he glanced casually behind them. It didn't seem that they were being followed, so the patron they'd robbed must have either not noticed that they'd stolen from them, or simply not been quick enough to follow. He moved on, sticking by Hawke's side.
"Torchline," said George by way of explanation. "I'm just visiting. I like to travel." Which was a shorter way of saying, I like to move around so my marks don't get used to seeing me, but that was neither here nor there. "What about you?" They didn't seem like they were from Torchline - he'd never seen them there, anyway - but they could be from anywhere else. Maybe if they knew the area, they could be beneficial to him. Perhaps they could help each other to score something big.
if life had background music playing your song I've got to be honest - I tried to escape you but the orchestra plays on
i reach out to my lifeline, the angels laugh in paradise
El almost didn't want to respond honestly when George asked in turn where they were from. To be from the Hollowed Grounds created a sort of shame within El, especially when this man wasn't a local himself. However, they figured if anyone could catch them in a lie, it would be this guy. He was a traveler, after all, so he must have known more about the world than El.
"I'm from around here, actually," they replied, trying to sound casual. They supposed they could take it as a compliment that he couldn't tell they were from here.
"Any thoughts on the place so far? I know it's quite the beauty," they said the last part sarcastically, but as they gestured around themselves, they realized that the interior design of the Last Whisper was actually quite visually pleasing. It was one of few pleasant places around here, then. Though the Grounds had been rebuilding for a time, the recovery period was ongoing, and out near the Hawke homestead with the other farms, there was much less development.
It wasn't George's first time to the Hollowed Grounds, but it had been quite a while since his last visit, and things had definitely changed since the war. The Inner Quarter was still as large and varied as ever, but it was calmer now, less chaotic. The Last Whisper specifically was, in George's opinion, a thief's paradise. Sure, it was a pretty area, but he had to appreciate the crowds, particularly as they partook in drinking and gambling. It made them easier targets.
So he reacted not at all to the revelation that Hawke was from the area, other than to offer a casual, "I see." Instead, he focused on their question, raising an eyebrow at the insinuation against the Last Whisper. "It has its charm," he said, his eyes dancing. Then he leans closer conspiratorially, "Especially if you know where to look." The question is, does Hawke know? Or, perhaps, are they willing to join George on a bit of an adventure?
if life had background music playing your song I've got to be honest - I tried to escape you but the orchestra plays on
i reach out to my lifeline, the angels laugh in paradise
El raised an eyebrow at George's playfulness and couldn't help but be drawn in. Sure, he could be dangerous, but El was bored. There seemed to be a good opportunity arising, though El couldn't yet pin it down.
"I guess it's entertaining enough," was all they replied in an attempt to keep cool. They really didn't know much about the Last Whisper since they had only recently just started going. "It does cater to a variety of interests. Just pick your vice." They knew for sure there was a gambling parlor or two, a brothel, and a fortune teller here. This was besides all the drinking. But other than these, they truly didn't know. They had been too wary of strangers up to this point to explore much further. El had to wonder, though, exactly what would charm this man.
"It's funny you should say that," said George with a broad grin. For vices were exactly what he intended to take advantage of. The Last Whisper was, after all, home to a variety of bars, brothels, and gambling dens, all of which allowed people to be drunk or distracted - or both. And when people were drunk and/or distracted, they were easy to target.
So George steered Hawke towards one of the larger bars, its patrons spilling out into the covered street with mugs of ale in their hands and sloppy smiles on their faces. "There are better ways to spend your time than sneaking a gold piece or two from a torn bag," he murmured, his eyes on the crowd. He jutted his chin towards the bar. "Which one would you pick?"
He had his eye on a man sitting at a table, his attention on the waitress serving him. He appeared to be rather drunk already and had a full mug of ale, and his purse hung from his belt by a thread. If George pretended to be drunk, stumbled into the man, and "accidentally" pulled the entire purse free in the resulting scuffle, well... then the only thing left to do would be to spirit away the bag full of money, and that was where George's true talents lay.
if life had background music playing your song I've got to be honest - I tried to escape you but the orchestra plays on
05-29-2023, 12:31 AM (This post was last modified: 05-29-2023, 01:59 AM by Eleftheria.)
i reach out to my lifeline, the angels laugh in paradise
It seemed that George was interested in stealing more, which El was fine with. They tended not to take much as George seemed to be used to, but they could up the ante a little, they supposed. It might be fun, it might be dangerous. El didn't mind. Maybe, if they took enough money, they could buy themself a boat or something and save themself the trouble of chartering transportation off this Godsforsaken island.
They scanned the bar with their eyes, looking for a suitable target. Many in here were drunk already, as it was rather late in the night, but only one patron stood out to El. A man sitting alone, making eyes at a barmaid as if she had any interest in him. Well, perhaps she did, if she noticed the heavy purse hanging from his belt. If El got their way, he wouldn't have it for long.
"That one," they said, nodding over at the man, and when they looked at George, it seemed he was interested in the same target. "I'll pick up the purse if you provide some distraction?" They would rather be the one making off with the money, naturally. Though they wouldn't leave George without a fair share of the pot, they couldn't be sure he would do the same.
If we're being honest, George wasn't particularly fucked about the amount of money they could get either way. He'd been stealing since he was a child, after all, in order to put food on the table for himself and his ma, and he'd amassed quite a bit over the years as he'd grown in capability. He wasn't rich, but neither was he poor - not anymore. So why, you ask, was he so interested in robbing this poor man?
Well, for fun, of course.
George scanned the rest of the crowd so as to avoid drawing attention to their focus on their mark. He didn't see any law enforcement - not that he'd ever seen much in the Grounds - and nobody seemed to be paying their target much mind. Unless you counted the barmaid, who was currently leaving the man with a wink, sauntering back to the bar to pick up another round for some other patrons. "Deal," he said to Hawke, promptly leaving them to their own devices as he made his way through the crowd to the bar.
Exchanging a few coins for a drink of his own, he turned and staggered towards their mark, playing the drunk convincingly enough that even Hawke might believe him if they hadn't known better. He meandered through the crowd, taking a sip of his drink, and then purposely tripped over his own feet, stumbling right into their target and barely avoiding spilling his drink all over the man. Had he wanted to start a fight, perhaps he would have let the ale spill, but as it were, he wanted only to distract the mark. He didn't want the rest of the bar's eyes on them.
"Sorry, mate," he told the man, clapping him on the shoulder - and thus blocking his view of most of the rest of the bar as he bent over cheerfully. "Ale's a bit much, yeah?"
if life had background music playing your song I've got to be honest - I tried to escape you but the orchestra plays on
i reach out to my lifeline, the angels laugh in paradise
After what they just saw, El could definitely count George as a good wingman for thieving. He made it almost too easy to saunter by, El acting a little inebriated themself, and make a move at the purse. El had to admit that this guy was good; even they would have believed he was drunk if they weren't in on the whole thing.
With a quick breath, El slunk up surreptitiously beside the man, pretending to be making a generous amount of room for a tray-carrying barmaid to walk by. Without having to look, they pinched the tether from the purse to the belt between their pointer and thumb, the leather deteriorating beneath their fingers in a second, and filched the purse. Then they sauntered on as if they had never stopped in the first place. They turned their head, cocked a half-grin over their shoulder at George, and headed toward the bar to get a drink of their own.
El tied the purse to their belt as if it was their own and sat down at a barstool, careful to hide it from any other pickpockets. Their heart was pounding as they raised a hand to order an ale, but George didn't need to know that. Through the adrenaline, El could feel a familiar sense of triumph at a successful swipe. Their immediate instincts told them to run, but a part of them wanted to impress upon George that they weren't a wimp, and they knew what they were doing. They figured the drunk guy wouldn't notice his purse was gone until he had to pay his tab, and El would surely be gone by then.
The man started to grumble when George first ran into him, but settled quickly as he caught the big, goofy, apologetic grin on George's face. He waved George off with a mumble that sounded something like, "Yeah, yeah." So George pushed himself up, patted the man on the back, and made his way past, still not quite steady on his feet.
He was very committed to his role, so he stumbled his way over to the bar, drained his ale, and purposefully set the mug down just a little too hard, swaying back and forth until he leaned heavily on the counter next to Hawke. "Another!" he called to the barkeep, raising a hand in the air and winking at his new thieving buddy. Other than that, he studiously ignored Hawke, not wanting to draw attention to any partnership between them. After the second ale arrived, he took a few sips, left a few more coins on the counter for the bartender, and made his way outside the bar, where he took up a position near the entrance to watch for Hawke.
if life had background music playing your song I've got to be honest - I tried to escape you but the orchestra plays on
