From Attuned to Ascended to Ancient, Kiada Njovu-Reyes has been reborn several times throughout her short life, but her fighting spirit has never once been diminished. With beauty, grace and a quick wit, Kiada is the whole package wrapped in an infectious smile. Recent endeavours have found her in the heart of the Hollowed Grounds, aiding the region and bettering it for her new Ancient kin, and whatever she does next, we know it's sure to pack a punch.
Congratulations, Kiada!
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!
"Ouch," he huffed softly, with a mock wounded expression, placing a long-fingered hand over his heart. "The lady is harsh. But alright. Challenge accepted." His answering grin was full of salacious promise, and only faded marginally at Astaroth's admonition. Sparing the taller man a second look, Isar considered the impeccable state of dress, the cane and the overall impression it affected. Maybe he should make a point of sticking to him; something might rub off that would please the sharp-eyed woman.
An odd gleam entered his eyes as Whitebrim was brought up. Nodding in slow understanding, he got a feeling that they would need a private conversation at some point. With Thalassa to overhear them it might be awkward - he didn't want to make her even more adverse towards him.
"Yes, do tell," he agreed instead, and went over to the rocks to make himself comfortable. He would never grow too old for a good story.
i don't belong among the angels // and baby that's just fine with me
Collecting the interest of Thalassa has Astaroth’s grin growing a bit wider, teeth sharp as he inclines his head, wind ruffling through the edges of his dark hair that’s very carefully slicked back behind his pronged horns. “Vastly different. No Skyships or skyboats, locations were closer. Halo hadn’t quite separated from the Draig as far as it appears to have.” He’s seen the new maps created from the shift of the last war, the changes over so many centuries of his stasis had been surprising to swallow.
“The people were quite different then, too.” Not nearly as advanced in terms of their comforts as they were now. Not that he’s complaining – he prefers the advancement that the regions have made, especially considering their ability to create such beautifully brilliant things. “There is one other that I know of, and he’s the Theocrat of the Hollowed Grounds.” The information is easy to offer, a casual shrug from a slim enough shoulder for how much he towers over the participants of the group. “Everyone else, however, could still be asleep or gone forever.” His shrug, paired with his too sharp grin, seems to suggest that he doesn’t care one way or another where they ended up.
He was here and Danta was here and realistically that’s all that matters.
Astaroth
the things i did up there were high school // but now i'm going for my degree
At Isar's mock pain, she simply shrugs her shoulders. Thal never claimed to be kind. Although, she looks forward to seeing what kind of transformation Isar attempts. The mystery itself entertains her while she further assesses his messy hair and dark eyes as he approaches the rocks to sit next to her. Even if he plans to one day appeal to her, currently, she shifts slightly away from his form as if the ruggedness might rub off on her pristine black cloak. With a flick of her hair, she chooses to ignore him and give her full attention to Astaroth's words.
The idea that Caido could have been so different not too long ago, has her tilting her head in interest. Astaroth seems to her like a walking history book that she may actually be convinced to read. Thal continues to twist her dagger but looks to the older Ancient in more open curiosity. "Do you think more will awaken?" She likes to imagine that the Ancients could be quite the intimidating force if there were more of them.
Another thought comes to mind, and she asks quietly, "How were we treated in the old days?" There is a suspicion that tells her she already knows the answer, however, she lets Astaroth answer nonetheless.
Content to listen, Isar did not interrupt as Astaroth began his tale of the elder days. It was interesting to learn of the world that in many ways was as unfamiliar to him as to those encased in stone. He had only ever known Halo; these were the first steps he took on the lands beyond the Fangs, and if he found it disorienting, he pitied the others.
Leaving Thalassa alone for now, he simply nodded his continued interest in the question she asked - sharing her interest, fancy that - and idly wound a few strands of reed around his fingers while he watched the wind billow the beach grass beyond the tall ancient's shoulder.
i don't belong among the angels // and baby that's just fine with me
Flashing Thalassa another sharp toothed grin, Astaroth’s head tilts slightly with the question. “Perhaps. Unless we are killed, we simply remain as stone. I lived life as a slumbering gargoyle for centuries.” Unaware of how the world changed and forgot about them as time passed. But that’s okay, because he’s here now.
As for how they were treated, his smile shifts sharper, and his dark gaze dances between woman and man (Isar) as he starts to explain that particular shift. “We were not to be trifled with. If anyone accidentally appeared in the Climb it was likely they didn’t get out.” It essentially had an enter at your own risk sign, one that should likely be stuck on Astaroth’s door, but that’s beside the point.
The butcher keeps that grin aimed at them, however. “The Climb was larger and we harbored so many rituals and hunts, the public knew that messing with us would be a terrible decision. So they didn’t. Instead, sometimes they would bring gifts to appease us.” His shoulder rises and falls in a small shrug.
Astaroth
the things i did up there were high school // but now i'm going for my degree