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Character of the Season
Once known as the Butcher of Whitebrim, he's now The Butcher of Dygra, stepping forward as the first created demigod of the Ancients. There is no question that Astaroth casts an intimidating silhouette. Tall, domineering and dangerous, if looks could kill you'd be dead already, but to get up close and personal with the Grounds' resident cannibal tells a much different story. Dripping with charm and clad in only the finest attire, Asta is a gentleman monster, as polite as they come and committed to his role as security for the Dusklight and those who have earned his loyalty. Be careful of that smile, though - those teeth are sharp.
Congratulations, Asta!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
OG Skinning provided by Kaons, with functionality and many custom plugins made by Neowulf!
How memory mud has managed to make its way even into the Bodega is beyond Lyra, but there it is, squelching and squirming right before her eyes. For a marketplace built on wooden planks out over the Stone Symphony, it's certainly messy this season. It would almost be impressive, if she wasn't so damn sick of the muck and mire that seems to have overtaken every part of Caido.
The woman strides through the Bodega, clearly a woman on a mission. She's been traveling these past months, since the Family departed Caido and took the Void with them. With no kids back home to tend to for the first time in years, she's rediscovering what it means to do things for herself - and what she's done for herself is train. This little trip to the Greatwood is just one of many, familiarizing herself with unfamiliar terrain and practicing her skills to become the most sought after search and rescue responder in Caido.
It's not as though she has no work in Torchline, but back home, she's become a bit of a glorified lifeguard. No shade to lifeguards, of course - they're vital, in Lyra's opinion - but she just... wants more. More travel, more skills, more life. She's spent so long putting others' needs before hers that she's forgotten what it's like to want.
But that's why she's here, traipsing through memory mud that shouldn't even be here, and not back in Torchline.
I've done nothing wrong Except for all the atrocities
“All right, what if you set it on fire this time, and then I’ll follow up with something else?” The Honeybee outlined to her dragon, who, with regular ease and practice, had become much more confident in her abilities. Sila lifted her leathery, bronze wings from Melita’s shoulder and lightly hovered over a significant mound of muck brewing. By all appearances, it seemed to be trying to form into something, but the shape only appeared to be an outline of a rock thus far.
Well, not for long.
She clapped as the companion unleashed a lovely inferno – it surrounded and decimated the poorly hewn structure within a matter of seconds. “Very nice!” Fangorn even twisted his vines in rapt approval, before poking at Melita’s ankle, gesturing to a stranger nearby. Perhaps as a warning. For who, it was difficult to tell.
“Eh, it’ll be all right,” she retorted with a vague wave of her hand and another in Lyra 's direction, which were often famous last words. For, thereafter, upon an appeal of grand gestures and wild magic towards another bundle of grime, she promptly turned into a frog.
A burst of light and color draws Lyra's attention to a flame-kissed woman whose companion seems to be quite keen on setting the memory mud on fire. She wouldn't mind it, really, if not for the danger to the surrounding forest. Although, truthfully, things might well be just damp enough not to catch fire at the slightest provocation. Still, she's considering the merits of reminding the stranger that she's surrounded by wood and that wood burns when the woman waves at her. Lyra cocks her head to one side, confused -
And promptly yelps when the woman turns into a frog.
"What the -" Lyra starts, staring at the woman-turned-amphibian, accompanied by a dragon and a vampire gourd. Altogether, they make quite the odd trio, and the woman can't help but break into a burst of giggles at the absurdity of the situation. Stepping closer, she places her hands on her hips and looks down at the frog. "Sorry, but - are you alright?"
I've done nothing wrong Except for all the atrocities
While the memory mud had been extinguished by fire, Melita certainly hadn’t been; though she did feel a bit more foolish from her current standpoint. Once, this form had actually helped and aided her in a spar, but that was mostly so she could hide amidst sandy shores and shade while a dragon flickered overhead. At present, she just felt ridiculous.
Alas, the amphibian’s features didn’t blush, but she tried to a grant a slight movement through her shoulders to indicate all was fair in…chaos magic. “Ribbit,” came bellowing, before she shook her head and hopped to a rock. Maybe the woman would think she was a very bizarre Attuned.
Within another minute or two though, she went right back to her old self, managing to look mildly amused and embarrassed all in one go. “Sorry. Didn’t think I’d be getting that one. Are you trying to get rid of this stuff?” Meandering from one topic to the next, she pointed at another blob of the muck and grime conforming near a stump.
Lyra can't help herself; she bites her lip in an attempt to hide her smile, but fails spectacularly, especially given that she's already laughed once. Within a few moments, the redhead reappears, and Lyra is left to wonder if she's a particularly eccentric Attuned, or if there's some other explanation at play. Her explanation helps not at all, and either way, Lyra's not rude enough to inquire.
She turns her attention to the mud. "To be honest, I was just wondering how it got here in the first place, but if you have ways to get rid of it, I'm all ears." She wanders towards the stump, peering down at the clump of muck. Nudging it with a toe, the woman mutters something unintelligible under her breath, a frown on her face. It doesn't belong here, and it irks her that it seems to have taken up residence everywhere.
I've done nothing wrong Except for all the atrocities
Melita was so used to her own chaos, she assumed everyone else would find it a normal circumstance. Even complete strangers. So she gave no explanation, moving on to the current issue at large. “Eh, I’ve been using a bunch of things. Like beating it, or setting it on fire, or blasts of water…,” trailing off and counting on her fingers. There were some other things she could try though, considering her little bedlam act hadn’t worked in her favor yet. “Maybe I’ll just shoot it,” she shrugged, before drawing at her bow bracelet, letting the armament come emboldened into her fingers, snagging at one of the icy arrows in its quiver on her back.
“Well, we get a lot of it in the rain. It’s like memory snow, but y’know, somehow shittier,” she admitted with another shrug, clearly unbothered but equally eager when it came to violently pummeling something into the ground. Placing the elemental weapon on her string, she fired at a blob of mud within decent range, watching as it froze solid. “I’m Melita.”
The stranger seems to have a knack for chaos - at least when it comes to disposing of the memory mud (and, strangely enough, turning into frogs). Lyra listens politely to the list of things that the woman has tried in her efforts to get rid of the muck, blinking with surprise at the range of options - most of which she hadn't even considered. Water, sure - wash it away - but fire? Beating it? All Lyra can picture is going after the mud with a stick.
Then the stranger suggests shooting it, and Lyra snorts out a laugh before she realizes that the woman is quite serious. Her amusement turns to awe as the woman - Melita, apparently - shoots an ice arrow at a puddle of mud, freezing it solid. "That's handy," she says, admiring the weapon. "I'm Lyra. Nice to meet you."
I've done nothing wrong Except for all the atrocities
The woman didn’t seem bothered by the suggestions, merely…bewildered. That was a common enough experience in Melita’s lot in life, so she shrugged it off, unbothered as she watched the mud continue to freeze, solidified and no longer maneuvering into lumps and coils. With a name, Lyra, the Honeybee gave a nod; moving onto the next throng, and the opportunity for more chaos. “Want to help?” There were always sticks or rocks around – unaware if this individual had any skills or weapons of her own.
Regardless, she fired off another round of arrows, listening as they sunk into the memory muck’s grime, then a singsong decibel of ice coming together. Sila, in the near distance, was far more careful and precise, blowing her embers and fire into some filaments and watching as they seared into nothing.
Bewildered is probably a good descriptor for Lyra at present, but she manages to gather herself all the same. Looking around, she notes more mud dotted here and there, and with a sigh she nods to Melita. "Sure. I'll do my best. Don't have much to work with, though." Other than good, old-fashioned elbow grease.
Making her way over to the now-frozen chunk of ice, Lyra does her best to lift it and deposit it into the nearby river. Perhaps it will drown, and though the thought makes Lyra vaguely uncomfortable (is memory mud alive? Is she killing an innocent creature that doesn't know any better?), she continues on in this manner, following along with Melita and helping to dispose of the memory mud along the way.
