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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!
When no one is around, my dear You'll find me on my tallest tiptoes
Despite having assured Zavien repeatedly that she really was fine, he couldn't seem to help the need to hover. She didn't mind, really - his overprotectiveness was sweet, his concern for her well-being touching. She'd always considered him doting, but the past season had exceeded even that description, leaving her to bask in the glow of his love and adoration.
Her pregnancy had progressed to the point of being obvious now, even bundled as she was in layers of warmth. The disappearance of her morning sickness had improved her mood drastically, and just now even her energy levels seemed higher as she took in the festivities. Still, despite the desire to see everything - and eat her weight in delicious food - she stuck close to Zavien, never letting go of his hand.
"Oh, anywhere is fine," she said, her gaze flickering over the friendly faces she recognized, finding many of her friends already deep in their own conversations. She would say hello later, then. For now, she selected a spot at random and eased herself into a comfortable chair, smiling up at Zavien as she squeezed his fingers. "How about right here?"
Spinning in my highest heels, love Shining just for you
Sohalia
Minor powerplay allowed without permission.
Feel free to use force/magic on Sohalia.
Grunting and groaning a slew of curses and physical complaints, Iskra successfully wrestles Goose overboard the Firecracker and onto the ground of the Oerwoud. The feat is more exhausting than it has any right being, the entire ordeal unnecessarily hindered by the great flopping of the dog in his arms who would have horrible fomo if he were left behind and destructively pace the decks, but absolutely wanted no part of being manhandled. "You're a right pain in the ass, you know that?" he scowls over at the dog who has, at present, gotten extreme zoomies upon being granted full use of his body once more. The complaint doesn't last, broken apart by a sputtering as Iskra peels hair away from his mouth, smearing it against his coast sleeve to be fully rid of it. A smile soon replaces the grumbles, and a laugh shortly thereafter which is joined with a chorus of exuberant barking.
With his ass tucked and paws moving a lot but somehow staying more in place than normal, Goose hauls ass spectacularly in orbit of him as Iskra moves back beside Mel after the entire ordeal. The Honeybee claims him with a shape that is starting to become easy, her arm twining with his as urging them onward, and he has a good guess as to why once the spread of food comes into view. Making some noise in his throat that's a combination of giddiness and admiration, Iskra's eyes widen at the offerings of food in every manner of want a man could have, and some he could invent.
"I agree, we should find some ham," he says in response to her, a bit distracted at scoping out the goods, and he assumes her swiveling head is doing the same. At least, until what she said fully registers, his own response a half answer to it. "Wait, what? Why do you need Amhran?" The subconscious ham he mentioned. His gaze lifts briefly from her as he locks eyes with Sunjata, a hand lifted up in returned greeting to the Heartless before his focus settles back on Mel and her concerning lack of interest in ham.
I'm homesick for somewhere that doesn't exist For someone I'm still learning to miss Said goodbye, wasn't ready yet Only see you in this silhouette
"Mind if I hammock with you, sugar?" Her voice slides in with as smooth a drawl as ever, pouring over all the uncertainty with enough practice to not let it through. She leans her head around the side of the hammock that Sunjata has taken residence with, golden hair drifting past her shoulders and hanging out over beneath the stretch of her hat.
She offers him a smile, another practiced thing that unseats the strain that exists just beneath it, a combination of strange monsters in her backyard, the approaching darkness that wears on her memory, and the recent uneven ground she stepped on between them. Fortunately, a bite of buttered bread is an excellent source of honest glee, and Colt voraciously tears a chunk off as she sidles around the edge of the hammock to join him. "I'll be seeing you in King's End soon too, I suppose. Maybe we can take the same Skyship out. I promised Thorn last year we'd spend it together." Not completely, the man has work to do, but she'd said she'd bring him electrolytes and protein, and she meant it, especially since it also meant she wouldn't be spending it alone in a half-tamed land with nightmares quite literally afoot, much less the ones she'd conjure up.
I'm homesick for conversations I would avoid And now I miss the sound of your voice Now there's nothing but a shadow left So I'll just keep on chasing shadows of you
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
06-17-2026, 11:48 PM (This post was last modified: 06-18-2026, 12:23 PM by Kaisel.)
Kaisel
One foot in the ground One foot in the grave
"Wait wait wait," he tells Flora hurriedly, one hand even holding up forcefully in front of her, although his head is turned, gaze acutely narrowed on the target at hand. "I'm gonan go running and leaping in first, and then once I'm in position, you come in and I'll catch you and then we'll be perfectly positioned for prime comfort." The plan is as extravagantly explained as an Ocean's 11 heist, just shy of using salt and pepper shakers as models.
Without waiting for confirmation, Kaisel shoots her a grin, chocolate gaze bright with the promise of something grand, and then he takes off running towards one of the open hammocks. He leaps, and for one brief, beautiful moment, he looks almost majestic and surely the picture of comfort done right. He hits the hammock netting, but the momentum tips him too far into one side, and it abruptly swings him out and down flat. A heap of sweats and hoodie, Kaisel for a moment doesn't move where he's bucked off beneath the complicated seat, groaning into foliage before rolling over onto his back, a leaf stuck to his cheek. "Too much gas."
One second she was saying 'anywhere was fine' and the next she was plonking down in a cozy chair with no obvious intent to move. Laughing, Zavien leaned over to place an endearing kiss on Sohalia's forehead. "Works for me." The way he looked at her dared to ask if anything else existed beyond her. The scent of food and the low hum of people weren't enough to draw his attention away, but he felt his companion stir at his side, a quiet reminder that he couldn't stand here staring at her all night.
He ran his thumb along her hand, smiling softly as he said, "I'll grab us drinks. What are you in the mood for? Hot chocolate? Tea? Cider?" Something warm seemed a given, but he glanced around to look at the other options, wondering if he'd missed any that might interest her sensitive tastebuds.
It was impossible, of course. But when did that ever stop any dreamer from dreaming.
My heroes had the heart to lose their lives out on the limb
He emerged from the faceless crowd like a dream made real, and expelled all thought of woodland furniture and wanderlust from her mind. Any distance melted from her gaze as Maea smiled up at her partner, the silken underskirt of her dress rustling as she shifted to make room for him next to her. "Always for you," she replied, and felt her cheeks warm from the heady delight; if their absence from one another had any positive side effects it would solely be the way it reaffirmed how much she preferred to be together. "How are you? How goes the desert project?" Will you come home soon? Somewhere Maea had assumed Liam's interest for Hak Etme to be a passing thing, something to occupy his time while she studied and sought to overcome the wrench that a faction of fae elders had thrown into their plans for the Greatwood. Perhaps she hadn't asked as much about the matter as she ought to, either. Certainly it hadn't occurred to her to move anytime soon, and as she held out her plate to offer its contents to her lover, it was with the assumption that her own restlessness was the only shadow cast over their domestic bliss.
When nothing seemed out of the ordinary (yet), his shoulders loosened, a little less tightened through his back. Still, he cast his gaze on a number of moving elements and individuals, quirking a brow at some kids slinking their way through tablecloths, then shrugging once he and Erebos had snagged a pile upon their plates – full of sweet and savory dishes that would keep them occupied until the inevitable dirge of LongNight. “Where do you want to go?” The Sword hoped not a hammock, because he could see a considerable issue in being either entangled in one; always a little wary of the unstable proportions.
He granted a nod to several others recognized and noticed, waiting for his son to make a decision on whereabouts.
"Well it's a good thing we decided to come, to make sure we thought of it," Danta says around a mouthful of cracker (the instigating cracker for the collapse of the pile, in case anyone was wondering). "And you know I would like to try it, though I worry you're going to be wearing that stew if you try to climb in with it." Not that the Maverick wouldn't love to see Asta try, and he makes a point of pretending to dramatically stumble across the festivities as he's oh-so-gently nudged with the other man's hip.
"Good, that means you won't be left holding your dick when we ring in Longnight," he adds with a crooked grin over his shoulder, approaching one of the colourful hammocks and nodding in greeting to Thalassa on the way past. He also raises his drink towards Sunjata and Colt nearby, before lurking appropriately to claim their hammock without actively jumping in just yet.
Dantalion
// so aim it straight and true //
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
Erebos’s eyes were probably bigger than his stomach, but he gladly filled his plate with all sorts of arrangements – from the honeyed proportions to the savory meats and then tossed a few delights on there, as if to intermingle with the vegetables and pretend everything was fine. His gaze went from the table and back to his dad, watching as the Sword seemed to settle, and he half-wondered if the way of life here was always like this – to be on guard at almost all hours. Maybe it was because of him being there, but the youth couldn’t be sure.
With a grandiose smile for his father, and maybe a way to bring some energy and enthusiasm into the festivities, at least for them, he glanced around at the choices for seating. The hammocks, while impressive, probably wouldn’t do for shoving food into one’s gullet, so he found a row of seats and tables with branches wound around their sanctions – reminding him of his whole family. “Let’s go there!”
bring me your suffering the rattle roar of broken bones
Goose was a wondrous distraction, and if Melita wasn’t on the hunt for a particular set of people, she would’ve easily doted on the chaotic little beast. Her eyes narrowed in on food, her brain pulled in a variety of directions, from a growling, ravenous, and voracious stomach, to the notions of finding Flora and Amhran, head going back and forth (not unlike some rampant bird).
Waving to her uncle, who apparently was opting to wallflower it in a hammock instead of greeting anyone (she assumed it was angst mode Flood time), she perused the platters, rapidly snagging at a bit of bread and breaking it into pieces while she surveyed the crowd. “So, I meant to tell you, I went to go see Ludo but Mort showed up instead,” offered casually to Iskra, as if it had been on pure happenstance and a normal occasion. “And said he hadn’t been able to call to Ludo recently, and that I should go see Safrin, but-,” the potential of the starry goddess not seeing her seemed high, given the feud between heralds. In between bites her mouth went about a mile a minute, striving to compose the details of the last few days. “I wanted to see if Flora would go with me, and then I wanted to talk to Amhran about Rae and maybe seeing if there were connections between the weird shit in the Peepholes and Ludo…”
Pausing, she tilted her head, realizing she might’ve gotten ahead of herself, then finally started pursuing the butter. “Wait, did I tell you about that stuff?”
the honeybee
Bring me the riot in your heart angry, wild, and raw
// i came from a broken home, so look at all my broken bones count me in, but count me out, i know what this is about //
Fully expecting to spend the time alone and perhaps quietly watch Melita and Iskra in the distance and their budding relationship that he hopes goes leagues better than his own have gone, he hears a familiar voice curl toward him where he swings from the hammock. “Come on in.” He offers, shooting Colt a smile as he shuffles over to let her join him, noticing @Dantalion’s nod and offers an easy wave back, hopefully evading the Butcher in the midst.
He takes another bite of his food, chewing it slowly as he listens to her announcement that she’ll be around soon enough and he swallows down to look back over at her with a tinge of conspiracy flirting in his steel eyes. “Oh, he’ll love that. Usually he spends the time pestering the bartender.” He mutters with an exhausted drawl, like the problem inevitably ended up being his eventually.
“Happy to catch the same Skyship, though. Unless you wanna fly back on one of my shifts?” He offers it out, just in case she didn’t want to have to wait.
the flood
// i'm the next, so get in line just let me have my fucking time //
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
Flora comes to such an abrupt stop that the moss beneath her sandals threatens to make a whole dramatic incident of it, one hand lifting to her chest while her aqua eyes widen with bright, theatrical anticipation. "Oh?" she trills, immediately swept up in the grandness of whatever Kaisel is about to propose, because obviously if there are hammocks involved and he’s using that voice, then this is either going to be genius or fatal to someone’s dignity.
As he lays out the plan, Flora nods along with solemn, queenly confidence, her expression turning increasingly sagacious despite the fact that the plan is, in essence, run at a hammock and hope. "Mhm. Yes. Positioning. Prime comfort. I’m seeing the vision," she says, already leaning forward on the balls of her feet by the time he shoots her that grin and takes off.
Naturally, she darts after him without any real pause for safety, because the only thing worse than watching Kaisel attempt something stupid is not being close enough to participate when it works. Or, more likely, when it doesn’t. She has more than enough time to see the glorious arc of him turn into a less glorious collapse, the hammock bucking him down into the foliage in a tangle of limbs, netting, and one traitorous leaf, but instead of slowing, Flora’s grin only goes brighter and more dangerous.
"Geronimooo!" she calls, arms flung out and curls bouncing wildly as she launches herself toward him anyway, aiming for husband, hammock, and disaster with absolutely no intention of choosing between them. [SE] I can shake it, I can shuffle, I can shimmy, I can griddy Bought bells with Kai!
my broken bones are mending
Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3
I'm homesick for somewhere that doesn't exist For someone I'm still learning to miss Said goodbye, wasn't ready yet Only see you in this silhouette
In theory, asking for a seat with his hammock sounds fine enough, but the practice of it proves another matter entirely. Much like a porch swing, only more difficult, there is no entirely graceful way to get settled on such a device, especially not one already occupied. She does her best at Sunjata 's agreement though, one hand steadying on the top of the hammock where it connects with a tree, and gingerly she sets one folded knee into the space beside Sunjata, pressing down on the netting which immediately gives a sense of betrayal.
"Maybe I should stand actually," she half laughs, the sound so genuine she doesn't have to think about pushing anything else to the surface. Her gaze lifts for a moment around hte party, connecting briefly with @Dantatlion , who she's realizing she might need to properly introduce herself to sooner than later, but for now she's got enough of a predicament afoot for the current time being.
Not one to give up so easily, even if it seems in her best sense to do so, she decides both hands are needed and bites down on the rest of her buttered bread like a bit fitting to her mouth. She says something behind it, but it's too muffled and distorted to mean anything, although it had been a pre-apology to him in the event she dumps both of them on their ass with this process.
Hammocks, like some things in life, require a bit of commitment. Too careful and they won't serve any better than someone too hasty, but it requires at some point a transaction of faith in the netting holding her balance, which is always the hardest thing for Colt to hand over. Sucking in a breath, she flounces her other leg up and over, her other hand having joined the first, and with a very precarious wobble, she settles into it. Smiling around the bread, she locks eyes with Jata for a moment before carefully lowering her death grip on the tree and popping her bread gag free.
"Tada," she announces with a relieved sigh, biting off another piece of her carb-based dinner. Circling back to the things Jata had said now that her life isn't liable to flash before her eyes, Colt grins roughly at the offer. "I absolutely would love to fly back with you, so you better not take that offer back. I fucking hate skyships and especially how often I've been having to use them." Where she might ordinarily try to refuse such an offer to be polite, he wouldn't need to ask her twice about doing anything other than skyshipping. "He's absolutely crushing on him, don't you think?" she says with a conspirator's tone of Thorn's love hate relationship with the bartender. "He pretends he isn't, but it's always the first thing he wants to talk about when he gets the chance."
I'm homesick for conversations I would avoid And now I miss the sound of your voice Now there's nothing but a shadow left So I'll just keep on chasing shadows of you
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
He is relieved, having for a moment considered her ill, much like any animal with a bright appetite that is suddenly dimmed. She is already pilfering the plates though, even as her eyes continue to dart around, the food secondary in a way that's still a bit puzzling as he begins to craft his own plate. His attention swings back and forth from the process to her, brows creasing deeper and deeper with each sentence she sets down.
"What the hell are you on about?" he asks with the faintest edge of frustration, the confusion mounting so spectacularly that he's a buzz with every maddening thing she just offered. Deciding this requires his entire focus, he leaves the rest of the offerings of food for another time, concentrating on her face now as he chews around the folded bit of ham (success) he just crammed into his mouth.
"You sound like you're explaining a dream," he tries again, the edge gone, placated by savory meat and the careful picking apart of the major points she just scribbled down on his brain. "You met Mort, because Ludo is...missing?" His expression lifts, waiting for confirmation he got this right, as insane as saying it back sounds. "Aaaand so you have to call Safrin and Rae?" His head tilts, the Flora and Amhran pieces fitting in beside those, but it's already a lot. "Peepholes?" He fishes for more clarity there, cautiously bringing another flake of meat to his mouth.
Never caught a feelin' this hard — harder than the liquor I pour
