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!
The thing being getting out of his head, getting out of Torchline, and trying his best to engage with the world around them and the tragedy that has crashed against much of Caido's shores and beyond. Still, on a dragon's wings, he follows the coast at first, having visited the Castaway Exchange not too long ago with Remi. And that place seemed to be doing well enough, and so the Nova turns inland once it comes into view.
Honestly, it's thirst more than curiosity that has him angling to land in Mourn; the wellhouse, although small, stands out in its grove from overhead, and as Ronin's feet hit the grass, it's with sweat beading his forehead that he approaches the little building. Swiping his hair out of his face, he raises a brow at the rainbow coloured cobbles, and reaches into his pocket for a battered piece of silver stamped with a star, tossing it into the depths before reaching for the bucket and winching himself up a drink.
Truthfully, Thorn has been cozy back at the House of Midnight. Not feeling the need to go and travel and explore all the trauma that he’d heard from clients and other rumors spreading through the House of Midnight. He’d stayed here, maybe venturing out on occasion to help with the flooding, but for the most part? He’d stuck close to home.
Today, though, he feels a bit different, wanting to stretch his legs. Albeit, given the Longheat sun, he wears fairly little – flowing pale clothes that cling to his shoulders, open chested, and billowing pale pants that are tight around his hips and his ankles. He fully intends to just wander, to take quite a long walk, when he spots the dragon above him, and allows his curiosity to get the better of him.
He arrives right when Ronin tosses the trinket into the well, then listens as the pulley squeaks as he draws up the bucket, and that’s when he draws closer within ear shot, taking in the full view of the Supernova. “I’m not sure I would trust what that water tastes like.” Thorn speaks up, bright eyes focusing on the other man as a smile plays at his lips.
Ronin, with a handful of water halfway to his lips, can't help but jump a little at the sound of another voice. He doesn't drop the bucket, at least, turning sharply instead to regard the stranger. Listen, when there are void people walking around who are capable of killing him without breaking a sweat, you'd be a little on edge as well. Still, the sight of the somewhat innocuous stranger does soothe him a little, and he smiles down at the crystalline water.
"It doesn't look so bad," he admits. "Though I suppose you're right. Who knows what people have thrown into the well, hm?" Carefully letting the bucket back down into the wellhouse, the Nova wipes his hands on his pants and turns properly to the other man. "Ronin," he greets, holding out his hand to shake. "You don't happen to know where I could get a drink, do you?"
Who would’ve thought that little ol’ Thorn could surprise a whole demigod? Certainly not him, and he can’t hide the soft little laughed out apology as he drifts closer, letting the warm wind tug and pull at his billowing clothes. He doesn’t know much about the void people that can kill demigods – not exactly one to seek out that kind of information when he’s got far more fun things to do.
“I’ve heard it could be a bunch of different things. Best to save yourself the stomachache, hm?” He’s drawn closer now, standing before the demigod as he introduces himself and sticks out his hand, and Thorn mimics it and shakes his hand gently, a dark tattoo of vines wrapping around his wrists like little shackles can be seen. “Hawthorn. Though, people just call me Thorn.” At the question, though, he seems to pretend to be thinking hard. “Well… There’s the House of Midnight if you want something good, though it’s a bit of a walk.” It had taken him nearly forever to get here just to stretch his legs, after all.
Of course, he did come for another reason too, hand slipping into his pocket to withdraw a bud of a flower, a deep red hue, and moves slightly to lean around Ronin to toss it into the dreaming well, boldly getting up close and personal for a brief moment before he withdraws and lets his seafoam gaze linger back on the demigod before him.
"Absolutely. With everything happening in the world, water poisoning on top of it would just be embarrassing," Ronin says with a grin, warmly shaking Thorn's hand before letting it drop again. In retrospect, given how Remi had run into (and then been thoroughly beaten) by Dahlia out on the void island, perhaps the Nova ought to be more wary of strangers these days. Alas, here he is as usual.
"Good to meet you," he continues. "And I ought to have considered the House of Midnight. A... well, I suppose you could say a friend of mine owns the place, but I'm still a little wary of imposing," he admits, only for Thorn to thoroughly invade his personal space. Had Ronin not been happily married and in a once-again-monogomous relationship, he might have take several more double-takes at Thorn for that.
Alas, he merely steps politely back to let the man make his offering. "Here's hoping your wish comes true," he says.
“Very much so.” Thorn agrees with a soft huff of a laugh passing from his lips, resulting in an easy smile as he shakes the Supernova’s hand. It’s a smile that shifts to a bit of confusion at the mention of the House of Midnight – not knowing too much about the intricate dramas of the demigods, but figuring that if they’re both old god demigods they’d probably be friends anyway.
Made sense, right? “He’s not there right now. He’s up in Stormbreak working on some Frey quest, I heard. I work there, so, he usually keeps us updated where he is in case we need him.” Through the grapevine that was the House of Midnight, after all, if it didn’t come from Sunjata’s mouth himself, news spread quickly. And as Ronin steps out of the space Thorn had invaded, it makes his hopes of settling in with a customer for the night start to fade. He shifts a bit more prim and proper as he drops the flower into the well, focusing in again on Ronin.
It might come true, but at this rate likely not. “We’ll see.” He says instead. “So, what do you think? Want a drink?” Even if it meant nothing for the night, Thorn finds himself craving one to ward away the slight sting.
"Ah, I see," Ronin says, quietly absorbing the information - both Sunjata's absence and Thorn's profession. It explains not only the casual invasion of space, but the somewhat cooling off afterwards as well, and the Nova offers the other man a self-deprecating smile. "It isn't you," he assures him. "I've just been married a long time, now. He keeps me busy enough." Wiggling his fingers - and the wedding ring on one of them - to clarify, he's happy enough to move on from the conversation.
"That sounds great," he agrees with a gentle nod, gesturing for Thorn to lead the way. "How have things been in King's End since the meteor fall, by the way? Were you hit hard by the aftermath...?" Torchline, of course, is in quite the state, but he has no doubt that the other man knows that already.
The last thing he expects is to have a it’s not you, it’s me with a demigod, yet here they are – and despite the explanation, Thorn can’t help the small amused smirk that graces his face, the airy breath of a snicker beneath it. “I understand.” The thought in and of itself is enough to make the sting not hurt as bad, which is likely what Ronin’s intentions were.
Regardless, Thorn starts to lead the way back, content to have the casual conversation – after all, he loves listening and dealing in stories (and the occasional gossip), and very rarely to people ask him about things. Half of his job is to listen to others, the other half is to numb their sorrows or celebrate their achievements. “Not as hard as Torchline, thankfully. But the Boondocks flooded and destroyed some of the docks, took out a good majority of the new castaway exchange that had set up shop out there.” A small frown graces his features as he glances over at Ronin. “They’re in the process of being rebuilt and the House of Midnight and Refuge have been taking in those displaced from it while work is being done.” All in all, it could absolutely be worse.
And while they didn’t have the destruction Torchline did, there still was the scar of the first meteors that had fallen, etched into the ground of King’s End.
Also a socialite and a lover of casual conversation, neither man knows it yet but they'd likely make fast friends given enough time and a couple of drinks between them. "Oh, that's a shame," Ronin murmurs about the Castaway Exchange. "Remi and I - that's my husband - had a chance to visit there recently. If it helps, it doesn't even look as though it was hit, given by how determined the people are to keep going."
Indeed, it had seemed as vibrant as ever when the two demigods had dropped by - which is a testament to the new region in and of itself. As they stroll through the long grasses and out onto one of the more established pathways, Ronin savours the breeze that whispers through. "I imagine things are busy at the House, after what happened. Have you worked there very long?"
“I’ve noticed that the people of King’s End are quite resilient.” Especially with the uncertainty they had always had to deal with. The people that lived here long before Sunjata had come along to make it more livable were used to being on their own, traveling from place to place, fending off the natural wildlife and hardships of it. Since the change, it’s gotten easier for some, and with it a newfound pride in being able to make roots, rather than remain vagrants amongst the tombs.
Thorn likes to think that the Castaway Exchange is exactly that. People that have found a place that’ll be damned if anything tries to tear it away from them now.
The breeze is relieving and Thorn exhales a gentle sigh as it whispers through the thin billowing clothes he wears, still trudging along through the grasses and small patches of flowers toward the goal way off in the distance. A footpath is found, and from there Thorn starts to guide Ronin easier. “About a year, I think? I arrived shortly after it was built. Wanted a change of pace from Torchline.” He glances over and flashes Ronin and easy smile. “Not that Torchline’s bad or anything, but there’s only so many ways to sate sailor after sailor before it starts to get repetitive. And the magical rooms in the House of Midnight make it different every time.” It’s said with a spark of excitement – the fact that the rooms could change to whatever his client wanted, it kept things remarkably fresh.
"That's not an opinion I'd disagree with," Ronin says with a grin and a nod. "Though I'll admit, I haven't come across a region in Caido yet that hasn't been forced to be resilient in one way or another. That's not to make light of King's End, of course." Add in only recently becoming a region, and the people might arguably have even more to prove than some more established areas.
It isn't surprising, actually, to hear that Thorn has come from Torchline, Ronin smiling sunnily at hearing that the islands have supplied King's End with a few colourful souls. "It sounds as though you chose the right time to move, honestly," he says; based on the damage done by the meteor, anyway. But magical rooms piques his interest, and he tilts his head at the other man.
"Magical in what way?" he asks. "If I remember, the Halenani rooms were always kept fresh and clean by magic." But that's hardly interesting.
“It’s the name of the game, I suppose.” Thorn adds with a soft airy laugh, the shrugging of shoulders. In fact, it only serves to punctuate the fact when Ronin mentions he’d picked a good time to move, given the state of destruction of Torchline – a small frown crossing over his face as he nods. “Funnily enough, I’m from Halo originally. King’s End just offered a good middle ground of snow and warm summers of Torchline.” A happy middle, that had been his happy answer to getting out of Torchline and still staying out of going home entirely.
Though, he should probably reach out to his parents and see how they fared. His mom would respond, he’s sure. His father, though, he could give less than two shits about.
Talk of the magical rooms sparks his attention in a playful way, however, lips quirking in amusement at the mention of Halenani’s rooms, and just how vastly different King’s End’s were. “Mm, they were. These ones, though, the second you step in you can be anywhere you want to be. The rooms meld around your wishes.” He turns toward Ronin in all his dramatics, arms spread as he steps backwards along the path. “And I get the pleasure of experiencing so many different places I’ve never seen or would ever have the chance of going to.” It was a double win, in his book.
"From Halo? Another place worth moving away from based on... er, recent developments." Ronin's smile doesn't reach his eyes - because the destruction from the meteors, not to mention the danger its arrival had wrought - is hardly a laughing matter. But that doesn't mean Thorn hasn't landed on his feet, and the Nova can absolutely appreciate that.
Letting his hands rest in his pockets as they walk, Ronin glances up only to see his companion turn about, all flamboyance and easy dramatics, and he finds his smile growing warmer by the second. Not to mention, the little feature of the rooms in the House of Midnight is very interesting indeed. "You don't say," he quips, eyes widening a fraction.
"That does sound good for business... and for workers." Already wondering what such a room would hold for himself - and whether Sunjata took bookings for couples wishing to experience the House's magic - he manages to drag himself out of that train of thought by focusing back on Thorn. "Where's the best place you've seen?" he asks curiously, the House of Midnight growing closer all the while in the distance.
“Yeah.” Thorn murmurs with a soft little laugh and a shrug of his shoulder. “Maybe I’ve got some secret luck charm, huh?” He doesn’t think that’s true, but he does know that he does his best to try and survive and learn, and so far that’s worked out for him.
The House of Midnight draws closer and Thorn knows this path like the back of his hand, content to step backward on the road to explain in full dramatic flair just what the rooms allowed, the grin spreading wide in complete and utter agreement. “It keeps things fresh. Remember what I said about the sailors?” He tacks on with a little teasing wink, before he spins again, able to smell the hint of smoke wafting from the fires in the kitchen the closer they get.
“Hmm,” he pauses, because it certainly does take him a moment to think back to his clients to determine which was the best out of all the varying places he’s been in those rooms. “I had a client once come up with this… Treetop clearing? Apparently he loved heights and wanted to feel on top of the world and as close to the golden sun he could get.” Thorn’s head tilts this way and that as he recollects it, reaching the dark painted door, flashing an amused grin over his shoulder to Ronin. “So the rooms offered the safety of not falling to one’s death, but my gods the view from up there.” He half groans his appreciation, opening the door and stepping aside to let Ronin into the dark sultry interior of the brothel. A place that in its decor screamed Frey and Sunjata, of course, but with a myriad and multitude of touches from Isla, still found everywhere throughout.
