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!
Like blood in the water, something in Harper sits up and pays attention when Maea meets his teasing with the same energy. Maybe even something darker. If he were less buzzed maybe he would find that concerning, but right now the challenge only makes his blood sing, the need to show off and impress rising to the fore with her affected boredom.
Moving and juggling is not outside his repertoire, but he has to do it quickly to catch the next apple she throws, and he clucks his tongue disapprovingly at her even as his lips twitch. "I told you I can't do nearly as exotic things without a trapeze, but if the lady is growing bored...?" Harper neatly catches each fruit as they descend, tucking them into his arms when they grow too plentiful before walking toward her.
Still shirtless as he is, it's undeniably sexual, and he leans toward her by bending at the waist to open his arms and deposit the fruit into her lap and the plush chair to her sides. As if that was truly necessary to get them there. He braces his arms on each side of her, hands folding over the curved edges of the papasan's wicker outer rim. "I'm listening, Maea," he folds her name across his tongue elegantly, unable to conceal his smirk. Surely this is checkmate given how easy she'd been to fluster before. Just because he's normally a gentleman doesn't mean she doesn't know everything about him either. "What can I do to hold your attention better?"
Tension rose in the room like a tide. The way her blood hummed louder with each step Harper took towards her should have been a warning bell, but Maea was growing too annoyed with herself and far too reckless to pay any heed. Her breath still caught in the throat when the fruit rattled down into her lap, but she kept her eyes on his as the man leaned over her, his shit eating grin clearly expecting her to shrink back, or apologize, or -
But she didn't. Instead she merely considered him, leaned back and with the light slowly fading from the smile until it seemed plastered onto her lips. A feral smirk she wasn't aware of, too much a mask to be genuine - she didn't want him to see what was really going on in her head. Because while she had told him much, there were still things she thought even he wouldn't be able to accept. And she didn't want to lose him, what little of him that was still hers. Friend - and that was good enough. It was more than she had any right to ask for.
The thought was like a bucket of ice, chilling her thoughts away from the offer he dangled in front of her.
Her hand came up, cool fingers gently touching his cheek even as a distance widened in her eyes, a yawning pit it would take more than a few drinks and a good time to bridge. "Maybe you should try singing. Or dancing - though there's no music. Mmh... " Her gaze wandered off from his for a moment, trying to think of something else.
I'm bleeding out for you
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
He can see her shutting herself away in front of his eyes, and his smirk only softens into something wry and understanding. He remains even so, letting her be the one to tell him even when he can tell exactly what her answer is. Harper won't insult her by putting words in her mouth.
He lets her touch him, her fingers cold compared to his face after such physical feats. He doesn't let himself lean into it. Though his heart yearns for the touches he fills his days with to be more meaningful than they are, it isn't to be, and at least he has those to fill the void where desire to be touched at all had once lived. It takes more to crumble him now than gentleness and understanding. It had led him to a broken heart too many times.
Pulling away, Harper flashes her a smile so she doesn't think anything is wrong with the choice she'd silently made, but he does retrieve his shirt to pull it on. It helps him clear his head at the same time. "How about I sing you to sleep?" It's a gentler offer, previous energetic entertainment fizzling out and dissipating. "I don't need music or an instrument for lullabies." Then he can let himself out of her room, and they can free themselves from these tripwires that lay invisible but plentiful in a location like a brothel room.
Maea had no desire to hurt him. Nor did she want to be hurt in return. Though she felt a brief pang of relief when he rose and went to fetch his shirt, there was a cry of disappointment stuck in her throat and in the moment when he turned his back and couldn't see her, sorrow flashed across her face. If anything, this night had shown it plainly to her how damaged she had become, how broken and in need of mending... But how was she supposed to recover, when even a friend wasn't trusted enough to be let in on the things that frightened her? It went beyond sex, beyond touch - and it was all she could do not to curl up in the oversized chair and weep, for all the things she kept missing out on.
When he turned back, she was replacing the fruit in their bowl, calm and composed in the way of one who held back a storm. One day it would have to be let out, but tonight would not be it. Looking up as Harper offered to sing to her, Maea returned his gentleness with what quiet trust she was able to offer him still. Because he still had that. Simmering attraction aside - they still had that.
"Alright. Will you join me, until I doze off?" It wasn't as hard as she had thought, to rise and move to the bed. It wasn't even hard to pat the space beside her as she made herself comfortable, offering him the spot. Strange, how she could feel guilty for not being able to offer more. Like she was obliged to give away everything just because someone asked for it. She wasn't, and Harper hadn't even actually asked, and YET... she still felt bad.
The bed was plush beneath her. Too soft. The pillow she mashed in under her head smelled of rose petals and lavender soap, and the fragrance clawed at the back of her throat. It was a bed for gentler creatures than her, who had grown more comfortable around charcoal beds and ashes than clean linen.
And Harper deserved someone gentle. That was the whole of it, she told herself, and closed her eyes.
I'm bleeding out for you
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
It says enough about the two of them that they are able to remain composed, to move past the unspoken regardless of their personal feelings. Right now, they cannot give each other what they need. Harper can't deny he's fond of her in a way that could mean more someday, but here and now, he's not sure he ever wants to see that day. The pain has lessened with time, alcohol, and distance. It doesn't mean he isn't aware that Maea is as prone to disappearing as the other women he'd loved. Maybe it's him that's the problem?
Consumed by these thoughts, he doesn't return to himself until all objects and garments are in their proper place, and Maea has slipped into the bed on her own power. Her voice pulls him out of it, and he smiles at her - still just as warm, because he finds no fault in either of their choices just now. Attempting to give comfort in case she needs it. Though, if she does, she hides it well.
"Of course I will. Get comfortable." As she does, he goes around dimming the lights until he considers partial-shifting his eyes to make up for the weakness of his human pair. He partially sits on the bed once she is comfortably ensconced within the sheets, leaning over on one forearm until he's just as physically relaxed - though he has no intentions of staying once she has fallen asleep. Lifting his free hand, he gently begins to card his fingers through the ends of her hair, moving higher only if it's clear she won't reject the touch. Clearing his throat, Harper lands on the first lullaby he can recall in entirety, and lets the throaty baritone of his voice rumble hypnotically in the quiet of the room.
"The dark doesn't frighten me. I chose to close my eyes - it is mine, it is mine," he croons quietly as he brushes through her hair, and he hopes maybe these words - this song - will mean something to her in particular. Words he won't share so soon into her rebirth, but which might find their way into her ears in a different way. "Time has changed the metaphor, now dust is not the origin of bone. Little girl, don't let them sell you any armor," he sings, and his fingertips brush gentle at the base of his horns as he draws out the end of the stanza, "All your ribs are still your own." And on and on the song unfurls, much slower than it was normally sung, to try and lure her into sleep. And hundreds more songs upon his tongue, ready and willing, if one was not enough to ferry her there.
Quietly listening ro Harper's movements, she perceived the dimming lights as an easing against her eyelids. There was something soothing in this; of handing over responsibility for a moment, of simply breathing in the same space as him. If her stomach fluttered when the bed shifted under his weight, Maea thought she could be forgiven for the delusions that flashed through her mind; what mortal could entirely banish such notions when athe same man har been extending offers only a little while ago? She was not made of stone, regardless of what her distanced attitude might suggest.
It was quite the other way around. If she flinched ever so slightly as warm fingers found her hair, it was only because the shivers that rolled down her spine were so very potent. She should pull away, should not let herself indulge - but she was so tired of saying no when the no wasn't even half of the truth. So she caught herself, disguised the surprise with a stretch, and felt her heart race as she nudged her head closer to Harper's hand. Fluttering eyelids parted enough to catch a blurry image of him, soft silhouette in the dark - and closed tighter upon noticing how ready he was to leave.
That shouldn't hurt. Not when she had declined his offer. Not when they hadn't seen each other for so long, when there was no reason why he would stay. It shouldn't - but it still did.
When the song came, it was as gentle as the blanket of night that surrounded them. Beautiful and haunting, she thought there must be a message there for how well they suited her. And Maea tried to let it lull her into calm, really wanted the sleep to come. But there was little relaxation to be found when his fingers were in her hair and all she could think of was how cruel a tease it was to show her all that he was of safery and comfort - all she could've had - and know how quickly he would move on to another bed when she dozed off.
There must be something about her, that made her so easy to move on from. Or perhaps she was the strange one, for being unable to let go of anyone who came close. f her chest kept aching from his kindness... that must be her own fault, for being too sensitive.
Fool. Bleeding fool was she, and too enthralled by the feeling of being touched to move away. Twisting in the soft bed, her breath betrayed the fear that he would stray from the tender skin around her horns... and the fear that he might stop.
I'm bleeding out for you
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
He can't feel her through the bond as he might a fellow Attuned, but the way she clings to consciousness and leans into his touch makes him wonder and conjure up meaning that may not be entirely true or fair. As the first song dwindles out, he hums soft nonsensical bars as he considers his options.
Though his hand never stops threading through her hair, he quietly asks, "Do you want me to stay?" Twining a bit of ivory around his scarred, tanned fingers, Harper stares down at the spun moonlight there and does not try to seek her eyes in the dark. "Just to sleep. If it would help." It feels presumptuous, but perhaps she's as lonely as he is, and if they can't find a middle ground between their shared aversion to intimacy and romance then maybe this is the best alternative. Something platonic, but undeniably intimate. Comforting, he hopes.
Deciding to let her ruminate on her choice, he plucks another song from his head, and lets it speak for him once more. "There's still cobwebs in the corners, and the backyard's full of bones," he sings quietly, brushing a bit of hair from where it is drifting toward the corner of her eye, "Won't you stay with me, my darling - when this house don't feel like home?"
Her breath caught in the stillness, too loud after the rich hum of his voice had died down. Impossible to hide. Embarrassing in the way it revealed her weaknesses, her needs. To the hammering beat of her heart, Maea bit down on the inside of her cheek against the instinct that would have her decline, say no, drive him away.
Even if he only offered out of pity... even if there was nothing more to it than camraderie... it was better than being alone. Better than being left behind.
Not trusting her voice, a pale hand slipped out from the covers and closed around a fold in Harper's shirt. Beneath his fingers her head moved in a quiet nod; yes. Stay. She wouldn't say please - would never beg for something he wouldn't freely offer - but a soft breath let out a tension she hadn't realized was building in her shoulders.
This time when he sang to her, Maea smiled faintly at the lyrics. They fit far too well; she almost snorted at the last line and all the sweet nothings it tried to offer. Not Harper's words, to be fair, but vexing all the same.
"Don't paint wonderful lies on me that wash away," she found herself humming back, voice barely audible and the melody a bleeding color upon her breath. Plea or threat was anyones guess; but the grasp on his shirt tightened, and she didn't let go.
I'm bleeding out for you
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
Harper merely hums his understanding when her hand comes up to grip at his shirt. "Okay. I'll be here; I promise." Whether he slips out before she wakes or they part ways awkwardly in the morning won't matter; he'll accompany her through her dreams, give her someone to reach for across the bedsheets if she finds herself lost and lonely. It will have to be enough.
Chuckling dryly as she quietly sings back, Harper lets his head fall sideways onto the pillow beneath him. "You sure you're not the singer here?" It's cheeky, but her voice is lovely, if quiet. He takes the reprimand for what it is - or at least how it feels - and switches gears to songs that reveal just as much, but which feel more personal, less pointed.
"It's a secret I keep tucked inside my chest, with this heart of mine that's guilty, not remorseful." And though he knows the stanzas will become muddled and may leave her feeling like he hasn't given her the reprieve she has asked for, the emotion in his voice is too heavy with grief to be borne from anything so recent. "There is love that doesn't have a place to rest, but it would have buried you if it had settled on your shoulders..." He trails off, biting his lip in the dark and realizing he is perhaps being cruel of his own accord.
Harper switches entirely, focusing on something ethereal and vague, even if his heart isn't in it. He needs to get her to sleep. He can't keep focusing on himself - even if that is what this entire journey of isolation and self-indulgence has been about since abdicating. For once, he has to curb his own pettiness and return back to that prior headspace of prioritizing other people. For her - who has never hurt him - he can do that much. "I want to stand on the edge of the water and see horizons stretch on forever. I want to know that there are lands not yet touched by human hands - I want to be the one to find them." Perhaps she'll envision lovely forests and enchanting animals, and it will lure her into the dark of slumber better than words best left unspoken.
Her smile grew under the compliment, bashful and pleased at the same time. She tried to remember the words of the lullaby her brother used to sing to her as a child, but they scattered like hels before a Torchline stormfront, and were lost in the deep rumble of his baritone. Listening, perhaps too intently for one who was supposed to be falling asleep, Maea sensed the shift in tone along with the new song. Could have taken it personally, internalized the guilt of rejecting him - but somehow it was as if he was speaking of himself this time. Like a confession whispered to the night, as much as to her.
Letting go of his shirt, her hand fumbled its way up towards his face. Brushing past his jaw and temple she found the top of his head and let her palm come to rest there, in quiet understanding of the emotions she sensed beneath the stubborn attempt to sedate her. Was he doing what he wished someone would do for himself? What was kindness, what was care, what part simple self-indulgence?
She didn't mind if he wanted to be selfish. She was too; selfishly glad that he was singing to her, and no one else.
"On the borders of safety, that's where I find peace," she softly confessed, returning his trust with faith in equal measure, conveyed in sweet lilting melodies. "Where the black sand, meet the raging sea." Even if meeting him again had turned out far more complicated than she could have expected, she still trusted him not use her weaknesses against her. "On the edge of comfort... that's where I find love. And the ocean already knows."
It shouldn't be fun, this odd conversation of broken up songs, yet she couldn't help the anticipation in hearing what he might choose to return.
I'm bleeding out for you
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
In the dark, they are both graceless and fumbling, and perhaps in ways more than just purely physical. Harper huffs a laugh that stirs the moonlight tresses closest to his face, and obliges her touch. If he leans in, it's a subtle thing, not the needy sort of motion he might have made in the past.
They're taking the cowards way out by letting better lyricists fill in the words they want to say, but Harper has had seasons now of embracing exactly that character trait. Though he does lay his forehead against the back of her head, fingers twirling the ends of her hair around his knuckles, and smile wryly in the dark.
"You don't sound like you're trying to relax enough to sleep," he accuses gently, keeping a playful lilt to his tone so as not to bring the mood much further down. "I'm going to lose all my best material early in the game if you keep resisting."
His hair was soft to the touch, and warmer than she had expected. There was a temptation there to let her fingers wander, though Maea wasn't bold enough to give in to it. The sound of his amusement at least suggested that the wasn't out of line; bolstering her enough to at least stroke the dark curls as best as she could reach.
Warm breath against her neck sent faint shivers down Maea's spine. Just like the lyrics of her song, she was really dancing on the edge of safety here; not physical, because Harper would never hurt her. But emotional safety... The borderline between this playful intimacy and the slippery slope that might plunge her into burning heartache if she wasn't careful. In the dark it was hard to see where the line was, what boundaries looked like, when it was time to hit the breaks.
But this... was fine. It had to be, because she didn't want to move. White bone prevented her from turning all the way around to face him anyway, and the way her heart kept skipping beats... that was probably för the best.
"I'm sorry" she mumbled, half apologetic, "It has just been a long time since I had... company." Or fingers twining through her hair. Or any kind of warmth to lean on that wasn't raw fire. "You do make it sound as if your songs aren't worth repeating? Maybe you're saving the best ones..." for later? For someone else? Maea didn't dare finish the thought. Found that she didn't want to know which was true.
I'm bleeding out for you
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
He stays placid and trusting beneath her hand, allowing her to touch wherever she likes. He has received his answer regarding his prior, unspoken advancements, and the rest is within his control. Tenuously, perhaps, because loneliness is a battle you can never truly win without banishing it entirely, but for now it lies within his grasp.
"I understand," he murmurs. "It's nice, right? That's why I do it, at least. Even if it's nothing more than paid services...it helps, to not sleep alone." After so many years with someone at his side, drowning the pain in a facsimile of those memories is all he can afford to keep himself afloat.
His chuckle is a short, dismissive thing. "What counts as best is subjective." Just vague enough to be the perfect answer. Harper had chosen the first songs he had for the way they spoke what he couldn't risk saying himself. That doesn't mean it was right of him to do. So he shelves his own desires and resumes running his fingers through her hair. "C'mon. Give it an honest try. You deserve a full night's rest." And, waiting until she decides whether she will or won't, Harper begins to sing once more. Quieter, this time, hoping to truly lull her into the void laying just beyond their consciousness. Something simple, something mindless and poetic. "I hear a rumblin' honey, up on the peak. This wild weather's got the mountain shakin' weak..."
Nice..? Not the word she would have chosen to describe the persistent warmth that bled through her chest like a sweet poison, despite her best efforts to ignore it. Nor did she think a paid stranger would let her relax in the slightest - how could she ever entrust herself to someone she didn't know? They were opposites, there, because Maea would rather spend all her nights alone than give herself over to something that wasn't real. Unable to do anything by half, she really didn't understand the ease with which people connected and parted over and over, as if they weren't leaving pieces of themselves behind. How could they stand it? How did they survive?
No, it had to be she who did it wrong, when she poured all of herself into even the slightest connection. Incapable of sharing, terrified of finding that hands that reached for her couldn't - or wouldn't - hold it all. What then would she do with the parts that spilled, with all the sentiment that had nowhere left to go? If only she could learn to give no more than was asked for...
But that wasn't her.
"I'll try," she sighed, burrowing deeper beneath the cover. "Good night, Harper." Forcing relaxation with deep breaths until the bed felt about to swallow her up and Harper's touch became a distant tingle in her hair, it was her mind that wouldn't stop churning. Babbling hysterically to her of foolishness and pride, of weakness and lack of boundaries, how she should have gone home to warm herself by a fire instead, because at least that wouldn't cause her any pain...
Minutes ticked by, threatening to turn into hours. Harper sang, beautiful songs she didn't dare listen too closely to, lest she begin to reach for things that wasn't there. And at some point she must have begun to doze off, when exhaustion finally overcame the nervous agitation, because her breath evened out and the pale, scarred hand slipped from Harper's hair onto the pillow in the space that yawned between them. Lines of tension eased from her features, and when she turned in her sleep she inched closer, unconsciously reaching for the warmth he radiated.
I'm bleeding out for you
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
