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!
Twilight fell over the flowering meadows and laid a blanket of darkness over the blossoms. A heady scent lingered in the balmy air, rich with the perfume of honeysuckle and jasmine and rose. The last evening songs were sung in thickets and groves, quieting one by one as stars lit in the high heavens, marking the end of another day.
When a thin mist rose to dance around her shoulders, Maea shifted back from tigress into human form and began to search for a place to make camp. Mourn never quite felt suited for such things. Much like having a meal in a library or relaxing in a barrack, the neat flowerbeds and well tended pathways always discouraged anything but peaceful contemplation. And while she did have a reason to linger, it was not a pleasant one.
Drawn by reluctant duty, Maea's feet brought her to a very specific spot in the landscape. Knowing it like the knew the back of her own hand, she halted near an intersection of paths and lingered, staring at the unremarkable spot in the flowerbed where a fae lay buried. In her belt, the throwing disc seemed to hum as if recalling the struggle that took place here, some years ago. Angered words, taunts that escalated into blows; Maea still recalled the fear and desperation, and the feeling as blood washed over her hands as a life was extinguished.
Nothing remained to mark the spot. A staff had once stood here, but seemed to have vanished; so too bad the dark rags Maea had wanted to keep, but not dared to wear. Was someone else wearing them now? Ludo's gift, once a mark of favor Maea had worn proudly and with conviction...
As darkness deepened around her, she gathered what fallen branches and kindling she could find and made up a campfire in the middle of the intersection. While not strictly necessary in the Longheat night, it was comforting to have light, and soothing to watch the dancing flames. Chewing on the last bits of bread and fruit from her pack, she spent some time meditating, searching for the spark within that might connect her to the flames.
Ever since Harper had told her of the possibility, it had become a daily ritual. A moment spent each day, whenever there was a fire or candle nearby, in fervent prayer that she might awaken a touch - just a whisper - of her former potential. Perhaps she ought to be content with the shift. Once, she would have been. But the years had made her greedy and more selfish than she once was, until the idea of living in moderation under the eyes of the old gods no longer held any appeal. She had tried that, and what did it lead to? Mistake upon mistake, until she had to fight for her very right to exist on this very spot.
"What would you make of me now, Nephele?" she asked into the night. Naming her, to invite the ghost of the fae to reappear and pass judgement again. Only silence answered, and with a sigh Maea stoked the fire. Built it out bigger, until the heat wilted flowers in the beds nearby.
Peeling off her clothes, Maes reached her hands out to the flames. Reached into them, not without trepidation, and watched in awe how they licked her skin without burning it. Bracing herself, she slowly eased herself into the pyre. Like sinking into a hot bath, warmth soaked into her limbs, burning off sweat and dirt until only clean ash remained; and on a bed of glowing embers, the Ancient fell asleep. Dreamt of fire and shadows and the ghosts of all the ones she'd lost, until the night passed and a pale dawn bled color back into the world once more.
Only wake each morning to remember that you're gone
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
"Gods, are you alright?" Isla's voice rings out across Mourn like a bell, and the medic makes quick work in closing the distance between herself and the pale figure she's spotted at a makeshift campsite. Having not long come from the House of Midnight, the Remedy has decided to collect a few herbs to take back with her to Torchline before leaving the region - and so here she is.
Upon getting close enough she realises she might have made an error; in the Longheat dawn it's hardly cold outside, and the state of undress in the woman before her coupled with tails, horns, and the evidence of the embers she's been sleeping in... well, Isla is getting the idea that she's absolutely alright, and then some.
"I'm so sorry," she continues as her footsteps slow, the Remedy offering an apologetic smile. "I didn't realise you were an Ancient as well - I didn't mean to ruin your nap."
There were better and worse ways to be dragged from sleep. Better, because shouts and hurried footsteps approaching you made for an alarming sort of wake up call. Better, because it wasn't every day Maea woke to see friendly faces. Blurry eyed and half asleep still, she fumbled around for her coat and pulled it on as she sat up. Ash swirled up like snow around her, clinging to hair and skin as she squinted up at the Remedy.
"It's fine. Easy mistake... Good morning, Isla. You're up early. Been a while, hasn't it."
While Sunjata har told her of the healers transition, Maea hadn't expected to see her. Not so soon, and not like this. A drowsy smile implied it was a pleasant surprise, all in all.
Only wake each morning to remember that you're gone
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
"Oh - Maea? Gods be good, it's been a long time, hasn't it?" Isla, simultaneously surprised and delighted by a familiar face, lets her shoulders relax and watches as her fellow Ancient draws a coat around herself amid whorls of smoke and ash. "Good morning," she continues. "It's good to see you. And I have always been something of a lark."
Smiling and stepping closer, she gestures around to the girl's camp and the fire she's clearly been using as a bed. "What are you doing so far out here?" she asks. "The refuge is nearby, or the House of Midnight." And whilst she can understand the appeal of a roaring fire, the downside to sleeping rough is - as Maea has just experienced - the potential for interruption.
Far less awkward around her own gender than if the surprise visitor had been male, Maea made no hurry as she rose to her feet. Calmly collecting her clothes and brushing the ash off her limbs as she dressed, she gave Isla a sheepish smile. "It's good to see you too. Wasn't sure I would get to see anyone else from home... How have you been?"
Getting her horns through the collar of the shirt was no easy feat. Struggling against threadbare fabric that omitted ominous ripping noises, her voice was muffled as she tried to explain the impromptu campsite.
"I know, I left there a bit late... didn't want to spend the night, is all. I met Sunjata in Torchline, and, erm... let's just say, it would be a bit too soon to see him again."
Emerging from the tangle of fabric, Maea's cheeks were rather flushed, though it could of course be from the struggle. If she was at all upset, it was hidden well behind a mask of pleasant smiles. "I did meet with Hotaru, though, which was nice. Haven't seen her in forever either... I turned to stone, see, but someone helped me break free recently," she added by way of explanation. Rushed, as if trying to pretend it was no different from nipping over to the neighbor for a cup of sugar, and being late because of a lengthy conversation.
Only wake each morning to remember that you're gone
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
Home is a strange word for Isla when considering the Hollowed Grounds - honestly, she hadn't considered the place such since Varus's death, but her smile is warm nonetheless as she regards Maea. "We're a bit scattered to the wind these days," she admits. That, or dead. "I'm doing well. I'm in Torchline now; I'm thinking of setting up a clinic out there, or a healer's guild. How about you?"
Considering assisting her fellow Ancient for a moment, Maea emerges from her shirt soon enough, and Isla lets her hands fall back to her sides. At the mention of Sunjata of all people, Isla understands more, perhaps, than the girl before her might think, not that she's at all keen to get into a discussion about it. "At least with a fire you've no chance of getting too cold," she says instead with a nod.
Maea's circumstances - stone, rescue, and so on - are unusual even for an Ancient, and asking if she's alright dies on the medic's tongue, because clearly she is. "Gods, I'm glad you were found," she says instead. "Are you still in the Grounds, then? Or travelling?"
She was doing it again, she realized. Putting up a front, growing flustered for no reason. Lack of contact making all her pent up thoughts and emotions press up against her mind like a dam waiting to burst whenever anyone stayed near enough to hear the rumble. Simple questions like 'how are you' and 'what are you doing' turned into mountains simply because Maea didn't quite know the answer herself, not fully - and her hands slowed halfway through combing the hair in place. Taking a deep breath, she let it out, deliberately slow in an attempt to ease the growing tension of her spine.
"It's funny, that. I used to love the cold... but now I can't stand it. I salivate at the thought of raw meat, and even though I've got the whole of Caido to be... I keep going back to the Grounds." Ironic was probably a better word for it. A lopsided smile twisted her face as she looked to Isla, shoulders rising in a light shrug. "I guess I don't know what to do with myself yet. So the Grounds it is, for now. I've never given it a proper chance, it was always just a place to escape from. That hasn't worked out so well, though."
Chewing on her tongue for a moment, feeling as though she was talking too much about herself - Isla hadn't really asked for the details, had she - she finished dressing and fought a battle with herself to just stand still, without scrambling for something to do next.
"Sounds like a good idea, the healer's guild. Do you have anyone to help you out?" An offer to lend a hand burned on the tongue - but hadn't she just said she would be in the Grounds? Restlessness again. Or perhaps just a pretty word for anxiety, over idle hands and too much time to think.
Only wake each morning to remember that you're gone
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
Smiling softly, Isla nods her agreement. "After so long as an Ascended it's really strange, isn't it?" she murmurs. "Be gentle with yourself, that's the only advice I can really give you. It took me a long time to accustom to being an Ancient - I imagine it will be the same, given how long you were stuck in stone." Smoothing out her skirts, she gives a little consideration to the Grounds, too. "Maybe you have unfinished business there," she says with a light shrug. "At least we can get around easier now, right?"
Not having to duck and hide in the shadows, or wait for night to fall, she means.
Perking up as the subject returns to her potential clinic and guild, Isla purses her lips and considers. "A man from Stormbreak has offered to help me set things up - Everest Hart, is his name. But I have no idea how many healers are out there these days, magical or otherwise. I don't suppose you would mind putting a notice up in the Grounds to see if anyone is interested, maybe? Or if you're interested, of course you can join as well."
"You are a lot kinder than me, I think," Maea murmured in response. "I've never really had the time to adjust slowly... not sure now is any different." Then again, maybe she didn't have much of a choice. Whatever urgency that the rest of the world was in, to deal with foreign threats and strengthening regions - it didn't have much to do with her. And she certainly wasn't strong enough to make a difference. "How... did it take you long, to get used to the bloodlust? If you don't mind talking about it, of course. That's the part I have trouble with. Mostly."
Seeing Isla brighten with the changing subject, she found herself growing more confident herself. Especially when the question asked was one Maea could oblige without a problem.
"Of course, I can do that. Healer's guild in Torchline..." Chewing on her lip, the rest of the offer was more difficult. "As for interest... I do have that. I'm just not sure if I would be of any use. It's far away, and even if it is easier to travel... But I could help building, at least. And maybe learn...Would that be alright?" The tiniest flutter of hope stirred within her, and it took the young Ancient off guard. She had never really considered becoming a healer before. Never thought it possible, given the natural penchant she had towards making a mess of things.
Only wake each morning to remember that you're gone
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
"It's true, a lot of the time change just seems to come for us," Isla agrees with a sympathetic smile. "I've found if I don't make time to adjust, though, my body will make the time for me, with or without my permission." And she's been trying to reduce her number of mental breakdowns as of late, if possible. As for the bloodlust, though, Isla considers the question carefully, and when she responds it's with a somewhat bashful smile.
"I didn't really struggle," she admits. "It was the overwhelm of being able to eat and drink and feel again that took me the longest." But they are all different, and it doesn't make either one of them better or worse than the other. "I did find it was easier to sate it while shifted," she adds offhandedly, in case it helps the other woman. "I'm able to become a molten tiger. We could hunt together, if you wanted...?" Perhaps completing the task together would make it easier on Maea?
"Thank you," she adds earnestly, to hear that her fellow Ancient will pass the message along. "And of course you could learn - it's an important skill, but I might be biased as a doctor." Grinning, Isla gestures to the bag over her shoulder. "I was actually out here to collect herbs this morning, to take back to Torchline. And I used to run the Infirmary in the Grounds, so there's plenty of opportunities for you to practice."
"Ah, when you say it like that... it's true." No matter how reluctant she was to admit it, no matter how difficult it was to focus on herself, it was the one thing she hadn't truly done in all these years. At least, not in a fruitful way - it had all been in the way of laying blame on herself for poor decisions and failures. Even now it was easy to sink into the self-loathing and just wallow in despair, repeating over and over again how bad she was at everything... and thus, changing nothing and going nowhere.
But she had a second chance now. It kept being hammered home for her, even now as she listened to Isla's offers - hunting, healing, perhaps in both literal and figurative ways - and she would be a blind and stubborn fool if she turned away from it this time.
"It has definitely taken a while to get used to eating again... but I also think it helped me reconnect with everything again, too. Especially feeling. Nothing bad against the Voice, since she brought us back to life and all, but... I honestly prefer this. Or will, once I get used to it properly." She gestured to the horns and the tail; not quite at a point of pride just yet, but with a quiet delight of stepping into shoes that fit comfortably, finally able to picture herself running after so long in the dark.
"My shift is a molten tiger too," she admitted, sheepish as if caught wearing the same dress to a party. "If you don't mind, I would be grateful for any help... Danta did explain the basics, but I have a feeling he left a few things out... perhaps because they seemed obvious." Or maybe he just forgot? She didn't know the man well enough to judge. "If you like, I could help you collect the herbs after? If I'm to learn, might as well start right away."
No time like the present, and all that.
A quick look around the camp showed the fire to be out and her possessions gathered into the pack or otherwise attached to herself. Hefting the bag onto her shoulders, Maea would be ready to shift when Isla did, and tried her utmost not to fight the itch in her teeth, or the singing hunger in her blood that she'd failed to properly sate thus far.
Only wake each morning to remember that you're gone
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
01-30-2024, 09:13 PM (This post was last modified: 02-02-2024, 02:01 PM by Isla.)
Isla
babe, there's something so lonesome about you
Nodding to Maea, the Remedy doesn't say as much but the agreement is written all over her face. She still holds the Voice with affection, even to this day - even knowing what she knows, and with the outcomes what they are - but it's true that it's been nice to feel human again. To be flawed, as wonderfully and terribly as anyone else. "It took me a season, on and off, to get to grips with it. Mostly," she admits with a shy sort of smile. "I won't deny, I was a little off the rails for a bit."
But now it (whether it is drinking, eating, sleep, sex or bloodlust) is as easy as slipping into a well-worn garment, and her eyes light up to hear that she share's a shift with Maea. "I don't think I've met another molten tiger before," Isla says. "I'd love to hunt with you - and collect herbs after." So saying, she deposits her bag near Maea's makeshift camp, takes a few steps back and, after offering the other woman a friendly smile, makes the change from woman to feline.
Dripping with golden stripes and amber fur, Isla shakes herself off as she finishes the transformation, sleek and dangerous against the waving grasses.
And I only needed one more touch Another taste of devouring rush
Where Isla experienced her new life with comfort and ease, Maea felt the raw newness of it with every fiber of her being. Emotions running high, they swayed between deepest darkness and blinding light like a freshly awakened volcano. Always on the verge of overflowing, she was not quite bold enough to let herself erupt just yet, but too far gone to return to the numb dormancy she had lived in for so long. It was a lot, honestly. Feeling, sensing, dreaming, processing the losses and gains and rediscovering who she was, all that she had become and daring to seek out who she might yet grow into - a season was the least amount of time she would need. So far, though, the people she had met since reawakening helped the process immensely. Astonishingly there had been only kindness, support and encouragement to greet her welcome back. Not a harsh word, no judgement to be seen nor any obstacles thrown in her way - whatever ghosts she experienced stemmed solely from her own mind and it was boggling to her how easy it had become to breathe. How sweet the air tasted, and how full of promise every day felt.
Whether she knew it or not, Isla boosted her confidence a lot without doing anything special; only with simple invitations, a gentle kind of acceptance without conditions that Maea wasn't used to. Gratitude was too small a word for all that she felt in that moment. So Maea only smiled at Isla, and nodded a quiet thank you.
For a moment she lingered to admire the tiger before her, absorbing the amber colors and the metallic sheen of her stripes. Then she sank into her own shift. Albinism remained even in this form, yet where Isla's stripes were golden, Maea's resembled blued steel. Flicking the long tail and licking her chops with a white-hot tongue, the tiger offered her head in a feline bump of unbridled affection - before trying a playful swipe of a paw at Isla's nose and bounding off towards a distant hilltop, from where they might scout for prey.
It was so much easier like this. Not so many thoughts crowding her mind. Nor as many inhibitions holding her back. There was only the solid ground under her paws and the endless sky above, and fire singing in her veins. Perhaps she ought to stay like this; what more could anyone need?
But the room was so quiet Whose side am I on?
Base by Skylark, Art by Midjourney
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
What more, indeed? Knowing that they aren't as privileged as true Attuned in this shift, nevertheless Isla doesn't mind relying upon pure feline instinct in place of a magical bond. And so, offering a furred cheek and the press of whiskers against the affectionate headbutt Maea delivers, the tiger playfully flops back out of reach of batting paws, before rolling, shaking, and trotting after her fellow Ancient.
With dirt beneath her feet and a Longheat breeze in her face, it's not only easy to lose herself to the shift - it's impossible to resist it. Catching up to Maea only to swat at her tail, they cross the plains of Mourn as if they have always belonged there. And, only when a familiar scent hits the air - a deer, Isla thinks - does she lower her haunches and slow her steps. Lope becomes prowl, and her whiskers twitch with the anticipation of the hunt.
