Click here for a list of weather descriptions, seasonal festivals, and a real time:site time conversion.
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!
Flora grins and nods, but the motion is nearly swallowed by the way her eyes roll with such helpless, adoring fondness that it takes her smile with it, widening and brightening until there is no point pretending she has any dignity left where Kaisel is concerned. "Yeah, he did," she says, and the warmth in her voice has very little to do with Safrin’s Mirror. "But then we both got a bit stupidly sentimental thinking about how easily things could have just not worked out, and..." Laughing, Flora shakes her head.
As for the wedding, she hums out a thoughtful little no, sinking a bit lower until the starlit water kisses at the line of her shoulders. "Not really. We were thinking either next LongHeat, or maybe even Deepfrost to have it during LongNight." Her head tilts slightly as she says it, lips pursing with the very specific impatience of someone who has already gotten married impulsively on a mountain and is now being asked, by the slow-moving horror of calendars and guest lists, to behave like a normal person about the public version. "But both of those feel so far away." Which is ridiculous, probably, given that they already have the actual vows and the actual marriage and Safrin’s blessing folded between them, but Flora has never been especially fond of having to wait for the world to catch up to what her heart has already done.
She does not comment on Melita’s near-gulp of hot water, though her grin turns sly. "Or obviously if you want to win a fight, I’m totally here for that too," she adds, casual as anything.
When Melita turns the thought over properly, though, Flora’s brows lift and she nods fervently, the playful tilt of her mouth giving way to something more intent. "No, exactly. It always feels different when I channel my family, but like... I don’t know, even when Kai channelled you during LongNight, even though that was just for fun, you were obviously doing something, having your own fun that night." Her nose wrinkles a little as the thought settles badly, because it is one thing to call someone who is already obligated to care about your wellbeing, and another thing entirely to drag someone out of whatever life they are living because a monster has appeared and someone else has decided the risk should be shared, or even just to win a game or a bet. "To just be able to pull someone out of whatever they were doing?" Grimacing, Flora lets her fingers sink beneath the water, rings flashing once before the surface closes over them. "And the way it feels is weird. Kai channelled me to test it out, just asking me to pick out an outfit for him, but it was like... I had to, in this really weird way."
The rumors are terrible and cruel But honey, most of them are true
Melita wouldn’t have expected Flora, nor Kai, to dwell on how things might not have worked out. Both seemed driven towards one another, and the future, and not anchored to what other repercussions could’ve twisted and turned. Or perhaps that was the Honeybee’s skewed view of it, being of the type to march forward and scarcely glance at the past. She didn’t need to see the shapes again to know how they’d marked and carved her; the scars were still there, and the stubbornness etched right across the whitened portions of mottled skin. Both Flora and Kai had their own particular journeys, especially the Hot Take, to be in the midst of all that joy. “But it did,” she winked, if only to offer that modicum of reassurance – even if Flora probably didn’t need it.
Her brow raised even higher when the plans hadn’t turned out to be significant yet. She would’ve expected the launch and the leap into next season – unaware that the bindings had long since taken place. Incapable of hiding her surprise, she still lowered herself further, letting the warmth rush over. “Why the wait?” Though she winked at the fight addition to Flora’s clause, appreciating both efforts.
The debate over channeling, given that they were both doomed to succumb to the measures over and over again, was still a light quandary, but it certainly delved deeper into those plaguing thoughts that had bothered the Honeybee from the moment she’d been snagged into the ocean. “I think family’s one thing, and I know not many have that option. But your dads would have always willingly come to your aid – I don’t count that,” she mused, because Remi and Ronin could’ve stormed in at any point, tempestuous and armed and ready to maul and murder for the sake of their loved ones without hesitation. “And if it had come down to it, I could’ve called to Jata, or he could do the same for me. But when you don’t know these people? Or what they’re doing? Or what the whole point is…” she trailed off, brows beginning to furrow back into notions. “And sometimes even the fun turns to shit,” case in point being her near drowning experience.
The other aspect, of being summoned out of one’s role and into another, also made her fingers clench back against her palm, but she straightened them out, swallowing down the bile along the back of her throat, and let her digit swarm below the surface, watching the ripples catch on plumes. “Right – we have our own lives. I don’t know how many times some have been pulled from their sleep or whatever else they were doing – with no say in it at all."
Flora smiles at Melita in answer, the curve of it tugging so crookedly to one side that a dimple threatens to appear. "It did," she agrees softly. The Honeybee’s surprise has Flora chuckling, and she shrugs. "We both have big families, and we definitely want to put on a big party for everyone," she explains, one hand lifting from the water just enough for droplets to slide down her wrist and catch against the gold gathered there. "Plus, we were thinking of having it up in the amphitheatre, so we also need to figure out logistics and, y’know, ways to avoid people being eaten by dragons." She says it lightly, with the kind of breezy expression that suggests being eaten by dragons is just one of those minor wedding-planning wrinkles, somewhere between floral arrangements and seating charts.
When Melita circles back to channeling, Flora’s eyes widen, and she nods with immediate, emphatic agreement, the easy frivolity thinning into something sharper. "Exactly. I know some people have sent my dads thank-you letters, and obviously that’s better than nothing, but most don’t." Her mouth twists, not quite a sneer, though there is enough irritation in it to make the line of her jaw tighten beneath the damp fall of steam. "Then again, if someone woke me up in the middle of the night to throw me into danger, I’d expect a lot more than just a thank-you scribbled onto some parchment."
The rumors are terrible and cruel But honey, most of them are true
Melita’s mouth rounded into a tiny ‘o’ of surprise and understanding once Flora had voiced the reasoning behind a lack of quick and swift nuptials (unaware, of course, that they’d already committed their vows and actually followed that emboldened road well before, as tradition). Big families on top of some high-risk traveling implications made her nose wrinkle in thought, gaze going upward to watch the flock of ningos finally ascend and go elsewhere, contemplating the parts. “Oof – right. And you wouldn’t want dragons interrupting the ceremonies. Were you thinking of items or..?” Maybe they could all be escorted one by one by some of the more powerful and potent individuals, but the impending gathering itself seemed like one gigantic opportunity for a flying lizard’s meal. “Could always have your fathers be guards,” she grinned; as much as that sounded like it would be a pain in the ass. They wouldn’t be able to watch anything, always on alert and destroying things in the background. Though, on second thought…
That pattern of notions of chaos was interrupted when they kept discussing the channeling aspects of their lives, and she granted a long and heavy sigh. “I never even thought of thank-you letters,” nor had she received any either, but her circumstances had been more bizarre than anything else. “They don’t even apologize for shit most of the time.” Pondering, then laughing, she shrugged her shoulders. “Would it be wrong to aim for the channeler when they interrupt your sleep? Could blame it on the drowsiness.”
Flora grins and nods, because of course the logistics are still a nightmare, the sort of thing that sounds romantic until someone starts asking how many people need to be moved, how many dragons might consider a wedding party an airborne buffet, and whether or not the bride can reasonably ask her fathers to spend the ceremony obliterating winged hazards in the background (the answer to that of course, was yes). "Yeah, we’re still trying to figure all of that out, but honestly, having my dads keep the dragons away is probably the easiest option." The admission comes with a little lift of her brows, as if she is fully aware that easiest does not mean simple, or remotely relaxing for anyone involved, but between Remi and Ronin (and Sunjata) there are very few problems in the world that cannot be solved by overwhelming force.
Then her expression tips brighter, adoration slipping through the mischief as she rolls her eyes and grins in the same helpless motion. "Kai thought maybe we could come down the aisle ushered on wind or starlight, so obviously that would take some planning too." She tilts her head from side to side, shoulders rising in a small shrug that acknowledges just how ridiculous and over-the-top all of this is, while also making it abundantly clear that ridiculous and over-the-top are not flaws so much as the entire point. "But the goal is only to do it all once, right? So might as well do it up right." Never mind that they have already done the part that matters; the public version, the glittering party version, the one with family and spectacle and potentially dragon-related security measures, deserves to look exactly as dramatic as her love feels in her chest.
On the subject of gratitude, or the startling lack of it, Flora rolls her eyes in helpless agreement, her mouth twisting. "They really don’t," she says, because the bar is apparently buried at the bottom of the Arclight and people still keep finding ways to trip over it. Then her grin returns, mischievous and bright enough to put a dangerous little sparkle back into her aqua eyes as she leans a touch closer through the steam. "I mean, accidents happen all the time, right?" Her shoulders lift in a delicate shrug, gold glinting softly against damp skin as the starlit water ripples around her. "We’re demigods, not machines. Sometimes we miss." And maybe missing sometimes means the person who channelled actually gets the full brunt of their heroic efforts right in the face.
The rumors are terrible and cruel But honey, most of them are true
An understandable figment – though Melita half-wondered if the dads would like to watch the ceremony too, but then she figured maybe they could just as easily do both. “I mean, still entertaining all the way ‘round.” Everyone would get to behold the nuptials, plus watch others fend off dragons. The fact that Kai had thought up more wasn’t the least bit surprising, and though it might’ve sounded like a lot, the fact that both of them wanted to grant and give a monumental display of their love and devotion spoke volumes. Jack would never, and it was another consideration Melita would never voice, but she grinned at the notion – content again that Flora had found someone bold and enamored and not afraid to show it. “I bet someone with Air magic could do it. Or Safrin, of course.”
Leaning back against stone once more, grinning at all the ideas, she cast a little shrug, meant to be mischievous. “Faaaaaaair, but you could always do more for big anniversaries.” Probably go a different route than her fathers, but still, a celebration of time and enduring love and all that. “Are you going to invite all of Caido?” Again, she wouldn’t put it past them.
The Hot Take’s acceptance of Melita’s newfound channeling conveyance caused another bright grin to flicker on the Honeybee’s features – wicked and amused. “That’s true. Look how many times mine backfire,” with another casual shrug. “Wild magic and all. I can’t guarantee everything.” Or anything, really.
"Oooooooh," Flora murmurs under her breath at the mention of Air magic, her eyes brightening before she nods, visibly filing the idea away somewhere between dragon security, aisle drama, and the ever-growing list of ways to make the whole thing so beautiful and absurdly theatrical that no one can possibly pretend they aren’t impressed. "Yeah, that’s what we were thinking," she adds of Safrin, her smile turning briefly starry at the edges despite the steam curling damply around her cheeks.
The question about inviting all of Caido has Flora wrinkling her nose immediately, horror and amusement chasing one another across her face as she shakes her head hard enough to disturb the damp curls pinned messily atop it. "Gods, no." Her eyes widen for emphasis. "There are definitely a few people who are not invited." Letting her grin grow crooked, Flora lowers her voice as if the steam itself might carry gossip back to the wrong ears, though the delighted pettiness in her expression suggests she wouldn’t entirely mind if it did. "That’s partially why it’s up in the Cordillera. If it was in Torchline, I wouldn’t be surprised if Jack sailed the Ark in front of the sun to put the whole thing in shade."
She lets the image sit there for a second, ridiculous and yet not entirely impossible, because if there is one thing Flora has learned, it’s that underestimating Jack Barclay’s capacity to be pointedly inconvenient is how people end up surprised by exactly the thing they should have seen coming, herself included. Still, the thought is easier now than it might once have been, less a bruise and more a sharp little shell she can turn over in her palm without cutting herself open on it, and after a moment her attention swings back to Melita with fresh mischief sparking across her face. Bouncing her eyebrows playfully, Flora leans into the warmer current of the spring and says, "soooo do you think you even know all of what your wild magic does? Like, do you think there’s some super rare ability you have that’s just... never come out?"
The rumors are terrible and cruel But honey, most of them are true
She let loose a wild little cackle and laugh combination at the vehement gods no. Melita could imagine the multitudes invited and those not; and though she didn’t know all of Flora’s detested proportions, the mere thought of Jack not being able to secure a place along the Cordillera was a nice little caveat to the dangerous intersections. “Gods, I know you’re right, but that’s still fuckin’ aggravating.” That she’d have to settle somewhere simply so the Captain couldn’t arrive. Though, maybe it was a blessing – she still could have somewhere beautiful and dangerous without the toxic persistence of one Jack Barclay. “Who else isn’t allowed?” she waggled her brows, ready for gossip and shenanigans – mentally calculating the potentials. Probably not Colt, based on current circumstances.
Flora’s mischief of potentially obliterating annoying ass channelers made her loosen another chuckle from her chest, cheeks hurting from the jocular potentials, then progressing at the mentions of magic. “I mean – could be. I don’t know how many options there are.” Which was part of the fun and chaos of it all. Raising her fingers out of the springs simply to start keeping count, she rattled them off. “I’ve experienced the ducks, lightning, turning into a frog, a water cannon, applause, falling asleep, hurting myself…,” but she’d been wholly unaware of anyone nearby being healed from her actions, nor a constituent being reduced to half their health. Humming under her breath, she glanced back at the Hot Take. “Is there something else you’d want from Safrin, like right away?”
Flora snorts under her breath, the sound softened by the steam but not by the look on her face. "Tell me about it,” she says, widening her eyes dramatically, because yes, the Cordillera is beautifu" and dangerous and wildly romantic in exactly the kind of way she and Kai are determined to lean into, but it is also deeply annoying to have to think tactically about one’s wedding location just because some people cannot be trusted not to make themselves everyone else’s problem. "Welllll, I mean, the rest of the Marins are a no after what they did to the Hanged Man. Maea did bring me a rose back when, but it isn’t like we’re close, and I’d rather have her presence not set everyone else off, which means probably also not Liam, her boyfriend, either." Then, with a grin angled toward Melita, she adds, "Obviously not idiots like Sah or anyone else who has killed any of my friends, either accidentally or not."
As Melita rattles through the list of wild magic mishaps and miracles, Flora’s expression shifts into open delight, her brows lifting higher with each new addition as if the whole thing is less a catalogue of unpredictable danger and more a particularly chaotic menu. She has seen some of it herself, but hearing the full assortment laid out like that makes it sound even more absurdly, wonderfully Ludo, and by the time Melita finishes, Flora is grinning with unmistakable approval. "I bet there are more things you can do," she says, settling back against the stone as the starlit water laps against her shoulders. "It feels very Ludo to just keep adding in random stuff all the time."
At the question of what else she might want from Safrin, Flora hums, tilting her head as she lets the possibilities drift through her mind in bright, impractical little constellations. "Well, teleportation would be epic," she says first. "But also like... have you seen Ronin do the thing with starbolts? Something like that would be neat." Her fingers skim over the surface, rings flashing briefly before dipping beneath the warmth again, and there is a smaller, more practical line tucked beneath the glitter of wanting something beautiful and dramatic. "I have my daggers, but I mean, in moments like right now, or if I got channelled and just didn’t have them on me, I’m kinda useless."
The rumors are terrible and cruel But honey, most of them are true
She leaned forward, tucking her knees upright along the stone so she could place her chin on their edges, surrounded by the warmth and glow of the surroundings, breathing in the mending proportions while the list went on. Her grin widened as Flora continued, somewhat pleased to hear Nova wouldn’t be on the list, nor Maea, given how influential and horrendous she’d been with her uncle. Even if the years had conformed and gone well past, Melita could bear and hold a grudge – it’d be a stark relief to know neither of them would be bristling around. The name Liam struck her though, sounding vaguely familiar, brow furrowing slightly. “Huh. Didn’t know they were dating.” Seemed like an odd pairing, but then she shrugged; though the movement turned into something else at the other admittance – especially about Sah.
She tucked herself inward almost out of habit, still not quite over some portions of her death. Maybe she never would, not without getting some form of vengeance – nowadays burning down his house would probably be considered some sort of crime and there’d be a whole political issue between Halo and Torchline that she didn’t really want to be the reason for…and otherwise he’d seemed to have disappeared. If something else had swallowed him whole, perhaps good riddance – but still, she’d wanted to be the offender. Mercurial and capricious at best, her eyes flicked towards ripples amongst the starry surface, granting the Hot Take a small smile for the considerations and efforts. “Thank you. I would hate to ruin your wedding by trying to get my opportunity for revenge,” she winked, because it was mostly a joke. She wouldn’t do that to either Flora or Kai. Unless she could corner him at a reception or launch him off the mountain. “I say that, but I haven’t seen or heard of him in a while. So I had Iskra help me with dealing with lightning instead.” An admittance that she still wasn’t over those portions either.
Magic was more of a delight, and a laugh echoed across at the thought of more things added to her wild list. “Maybe it’s never-ending,” she equally conspired with a waggle of her brows. “But gods, so true, teleportation would be amazing.” Imagining crossing lines of regions or terrain in singular seconds, like it was nothing. A rush, a haze, of sinking weapons or incantations into another and not having to worry about closeness and distance. “I have seen Ronin’s starbolts and what they can do. Very impressive. You could get…” her nose wrinkled, mind concocting. “Your own comets or something.”
At the uselessness, a more serious tone fell over – though she tried to layer it in their usual frivolity. “First of all, I don’t think there's ever been a time you were useless, and second, that’ll come. I was like that at first too. Probably all demigods were.”
Flora only shrugs about Liam and Maea; she thought it had been strange too, but not enough to linger on. Sah, though, draws a wicked little curve across her mouth, and she lifts one shoulder from the water as if revenge during a wedding is merely another detail to consider alongside flowers, music, and whether the guests can survive the venue. "Honestly, I feel like a bit of revenge at a wedding might be good luck," she says, eyes gleaming over the steam. "So if he somehow manages to show up, you never have to worry about me being offended if you shoot your shot."
The mention of lightning changes her smile almost at once, the wickedness dimming into something quieter and more knowing as her fingers drift unconsciously beneath the water to the scars along her hips. The warmth of Safrin’s Mirror hides the motion from view, mostly, but it doesn’t hide the way her shoulders settle or how her expression loses some of its shine, as if the past has reached up through all that glittering water and tugged. "That’s good you have someone to work that out with," she says softly before she shakes her head a little, her gaze dropping briefly to the starlit ripples spreading away from her body. "I still find walking in the Greatwood kinda hard sometimes." It is not fear exactly, or not only fear; it is memory with teeth, the sense that a place can look the same after it has swallowed you and still expect you to move through it like nothing happened.
Letting mirth rise again before the quiet can press too firmly around them, Flora lifts her brows at the idea of comets, her grin returning in a brighter, easier flash. "Or I just steal his idea and let him be mad about it," she says, snickering under her breath. Melita’s reassurance softens her more genuinely, though, and Flora’s answering smile turns crooked and sincere as she shrugs, not quite ready to accept the kindness cleanly but unwilling to dodge it either. "Maybe," she allows, and for once there is no sharpness in the word, only the tentative brightness of wanting to believe it.
After a moment, she glances back toward the Honeybee, the steam curling between them as her fingers trail idly through the water. "Is it bad that sometimes I think about abilities that are just like... not necessarily useful in a fight, but more that just... hinder people I don’t like?" Her tone stays light, almost playful, but there is a particular glint behind her eyes that narrows the thought into something more specific, something shaped like a ship on the horizon and a man whose shadow has learned far too many ways to fall across her life.
The rumors are terrible and cruel But honey, most of them are true
She thought of weddings with blight vitriol splattered all over the terrain, and couldn’t help but laugh to herself. “All right, well, if I have your permission,” and she gave another small smile in return, lined with mischief. “What if I just chucked him over the side of the mountain, hm?” Would anyone complain? Maybe Sah’s kids, but eh.
Implications over their deaths seemed to have drawn them both into quieter depictions – hard not to, when memories were sharper over knives and lightning-drawn scars. If Melita noticed Flora’s withdrawal, she didn’t mention it, pointedly looking nowhere near the Hot Take, but at swirling waters with pools of constellations or in the short distance of snow. “Yeah,” she agreed, only smiling at the semblances of Iskra’s willingness, the safety of trying beneath another who wouldn’t hurt or maim, but tucking that down into her knees too as she folded over again. “That’s understandable. Even when they’re gone…it’s not like they actually are, y’know? I’m sure it’s the way our minds still want to protect us, but gods,” sometimes it went too far and a mere thunderstorm would send her into places she didn’t want to revisit.
Ideas of stealing Ronin’s abilities and twinning did leave her amused, even if it rougher around the edges. Though the glint in Flora’s eyes and the suggestions measured had her laughing much more, letting that echo against her skin and across the veneer. “Oh, you’re asking the wrong person for that. I’d only encourage it.” Her grin widened, impossibly chaotic, imagining a course of scenarios to make her adversaries have an absolutely horrendous day. Abilities that might do more than hinder, hamper, and hobble; she’d want them so curtailed they might as well wished for an early grave. Lowering her voice as if involved in the newest conspiracy, her gaze brightened, seditious and playful. “What were you thinking?”
Flora snickers, the sound bright enough to send a little shimmer through the steam between them as her grin turns wickedly approving. "My permission and my encouragement. And hey, there are lots of Alpina up there who are known to do just that." She shrugs, brows lifting with a look of exaggerated innocence that does not even attempt to be convincing. "Who’s to say what happened, really? Mountains are dangerous. Sometimes people slip."
The laughter fades more gently than it came, and Flora looks down into the water as the constellations scattered across its surface break and reform around the small movements of her hands. Swallowing, she nods, because Melita has put words to the part of it that people tend to slide past, too relieved by resurrection to understand that coming back is not the same as being untouched. "I feel like that’s what people don’t get," she says, her voice softer now, with none of the sparkling varnish she usually paints over things to make them easier to hold. "They think, oh, well, you came back to life, so really what’s the big deal? But like... the dying doesn’t just go away. How it feels, how time stops being the same, it’s just..." Despite the heat wrapped around her, a shiver cuts through her shoulders, sharp and involuntary, and Flora shakes her head as if the motion might loosen the memory from wherever it still clings beneath her skin. "It stays in you."
The shift back toward magic gives her somewhere else to put her hands and her attention, and Flora brightens with obvious relief, her lips twitching as Melita lowers her voice. She can't say the thing she really means, that telepaths should be weaker against so, and so instead she lets her expression go airy and theatrical, drawing the idea out as if she is only being ridiculous. "Maaaaaaaybe that ship captains have a harder time hitting me," she suggests, aqua eyes glinting with private satisfaction. "Orrrrr, if that’s too broad, what about just men who ask the gods for help so they can fuck their ships can’t hit me?"
The rumors are terrible and cruel But honey, most of them are true
Permission and encouragement were all she needed to invoke another state of vengeful reenactment. “So I’ve heard,” and the Honeybee granted another vicious grin in return. “See, that might be a fun thing to have as a shift.” Besides the usual dragons and monsters and flying things, all delightful sure, but renowned to headbutting people off mountains? Where was the downside?
The humor waxed and waned on the interim of deaths though – a quieter edge to both women who’d seen a flash of a dagger and the spark of lightning as something more than everyday nuances. Her own eyes darted back to ripples and constellations, listening quietly as Flora’s voice softened and the understanding passed between them. While the Hot Take had always seemingly fluffed issues away, Melita could fathom deep down it wasn’t that way at all – just another sentiment to let the harsher outlooks pass over. At least, that’s how she’d done it. Anger first, upheaval and sedition, and then weeks and months and years to gaze inward in the trauma – if she ever dared at all. “And there probably isn’t a good way to move past it either. I tried ignoring it for a bit,” wilted on a shrug. “But then last season was thunder screams and shit all the time.” Much like going into the Greatwood, just to drift in amongst the eaves, must’ve been something cantankerous and loathsome on the fringes of Flora’s sight. “Maybe people find it easier to just think everything’s okay and fine, because they don’t know how to address it either.” How to help. What to do. Everyone could go on pretending.
Magic was certainly easier, in her experience anyway. Unaware of the inferences between, she could only stick to what Flora granted, still managing a grin in the furtive edges. Until, of course, things added up. “Wait – wait a second,” abandoning the creative aspects of future elements, as something dawned on her, because the specific phrases were really hitting hard, and then she couldn’t really hold the quieter intonations together. “Jack is fucking his ship?!”
