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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!
But it was a safer (somewhat) alternative to Amhran exploring the necessities of his impending purpose. Not yet taken over by the Family, or mauled into complete annihilation of void properties, it harbored enough of the latter to test and ponder over, without too many looming threats. Should a landshark appear, the Sword could get them out of there – or pulverize it. Depended on the mood and situation, perhaps.
So the first stop was the Furnace – aptly named as the sweltering heat, despite the season and early morning, engulfed his feathers and he already felt the loathing reach new heights. And though the new demigod wouldn’t be able to feel the frustrations, the Sword spiraled downward, coasting easily to a dry, spiderwebbed area. From there, he landed, giving the younger man time to depart from the thunderbird’s back, before shifting readily into human form.
Already snagging at the canteens in his bag, Deimos passed one over and glanced out over the horizon – eyes narrowed before finally speaking. “Do you want to explore for a bit?” They’d likely come across something to test and mettle through.
Amhran, on the other hand, has precisely zero feelings about the desert, other than the obvious. (E.g. it is hot, and flying on the back of a thunderbird is exhilirating, and there is a lot of sand and not many plants).
As Deimos takes them into land and allows the willowy demigod to clamber down from his feathery perch, Amhran is left kicking off his boots almost instantly so he might feel the ground beneath his feet. Not expecting the heat, particularly after Halo, it's with a hiss of surprise and pain that he's left hopping back until he finds a spot of shade beside a boulder.
"Is it all like this?" he wonders, because it will definitely have an impact on how much he'd like to explore, Amhran reaching out gratefully to accept the canteen and taking a sip of it. He doesn't douse his feet with the water either, which for the record, Deimos, is evidence that he is learning.
He should have anticipated the shoes dilemma the moment they touched down, but before he could offer a semblance of a warning, they were gone, and with it came hiss and pain. Grimacing, he offered a balm of ice via magical means to float nearby, in case Amhran opted to take it. “Most. This is not like Torchline’s beaches.” As the demigod would be able to tell – miles upon miles of desolation and hot sand, dirt, and soil decrepit and lacking in much of anything but mirages and isolation. “May want to put those back on,” jutting his jawline towards the boots while his eyes went towards the horizon, and surrounding area; though he did allow for half a smile as the other didn’t pour the water on his feet.
Other than a few stray horned lizards making their way across the landscape, he didn’t see a sign of anything of note – until there was a familiar outline of a particular void flora off to his left. Advancing upon it, but not too close, for he certainly didn’t want to give Amhran the wrong idea, he pointed out the differentials. “Here is one of the void plants,” and the Rae creature would be able to see the ominous shades of purple and black along the petals, and likely the unease, though perhaps that sensation would be new to him. “I am not certain if you can do anything about these, but there are many like it within each region.” Deimos’, and multitudes of others, solution had been to destroy them – but if his purpose was preserving the balance, perhaps there were other things to be done.
Amhran does indeed accept the offered ice, grumbling softly to himself and leaning back against the boulder so he can cool off his feet before pulling his shoes back on with a great deal of reluctance. "Alright." He sighs, leaning down to lace them - also a recently acquired skill, and it takes a couple of tries before they're securely back on his feet.
Rising to stand with Deimos and shading his eyes from the sun, he takes another (bonus) sip from the canteen before offering it back to the other man, the same way a child might offer something back to their parents when they're done with it. Raising his eyebrows as he follows after the Sword, the tinge of purple on the barren land is almost unmistakeable, and he approaches with mimicked caution.
"I am unsure," he admits, of being able to do anything about them, though he does crouch down on his long legs to peer at the specimen. "They grew the same as any other plant." Under Rae's guidance, he seems to say without saying.
On any normal occasion, the desert is a dry, decrepit place – bones jutting out of the scenery, sand dunes for endless miles upon miles.
But today is a wondrous day, for now it rains.
A pouring deluge of wonder and coolness brings much needed respite from the heat as the clouds roll in, making the world come alive before your eyes as animals embark across the plains, and plants begin to crawl their way back to the surface, grabbing every drop they can get.
Moderately impressed with Amhran’s recent shoe-tying skills, he gave a boyish smile as the demigod put his shoes back on – though it might have all been for naught.
For no sooner did the skies open – clouds moving in swiftly, churning over the desolation into a sudden and welcome deluge. Enough for him to raise his head swiftly to the drops, shocked and surprised and clearly not his doing, but shoulders overcome with a semblance of relief he hadn’t felt in months. “Fine. Maybe you can take them off,” given the sudden influx of temperature and sodden sand. “But if it does get warm again…,” he indulged in the breadth of one raised brow, before pulling his long hair back into a messy bun, droplets skewing each particle.
Amhran’s reluctance upon the plant, and the balance between nature’s accord and Rae’s aspects, made sense. But Deimos wasn’t so charitable to the disturbing and invasive vegetation, glancing upon it with a wrinkled nose and visible irritation. “I can take care of it then, if you want.”
Brow furrowing as the skies suddenly darken, all traces of a frown positively vanish from Amhran's expression at the sudden cooling deluge; unable to help himself, a laugh escapes his lips. "Alright," he says, unashamedly eager, and he pulls his shoes off without regard for whether they'll fill with water. Straightening up and letting his toes dig into the waterlogged sand, immediately the young demigod seems more at ease.
Leaving his own curls sodden and tumbling around his shoulders, he walks a slow perimeter around the void-infected plant, head tilting his way and that as if trying to decide whether it's an inherent threat, or if it was merely grown that way. "Take care of it like dig it up and take it home with us?" he asks, clearly never having come across the more sinister meaning of the phrase.
If the shoes did end up waterlogged, Deimos could always remove the portions later. It was the way the demigod inched around the plant that held his attention anyway, keeping a very scrutinizing and careful eye on the methods and motives at work. The question at hand though, had him wondering if Amhran would prefer everything to continue existing as it was – if that had been Rae’s direction – an infliction upon Caido or not.
Uncertain what the distinction this conversation would bear upon the youth, he sighed, crouching nearby, as if studying the fronds and edges of the plant. The Sword had been raised, through multiple lifetimes, to defend, preserve, and shield his home, family, and by extension, some matter of humanity (depending on some characters involved). Recognized threats had often been decimated, and that had been the way of it. So he shook his head gently, adjusting the explanation. “I meant destroy it.”
Amhran's thoughts on nature and the way of the world is still forming, alas, but his very essence is one of live and let live; he hasn't yet come across anything that deserved to be destroyed. Perhaps Deimos will be the first to teach him such a lesson. Pausing to stand back with the Sword and pushing his wet hair out of his face, he considers the void-touched plant and furrows his brow as Deimos's voice rumbles out into the air.
"I see," he says softly. "Is it an invasive species, then? It's somewhere it doesn't belong?" That seems to make sense to the youth, Amhran glancing about as if there might be a colony of void flora nearby to prove him wrong. "If that's the case, I guess it's probably better for the environment as a whole that it isn't allowed to continue to propagate."
Unfortunately, the Sword had come across many things in this lifetime that had to be annihilated. Some unwillingly, some voluntarily, some through pain and circumstance and misfortune, and some with the most unrelenting viciousness. He’d never deny that his initial instincts still called for that inherent weight of destruction at a moment’s notice; but that didn’t mean everyone else had to live in such a way. He hoped, in some part of him, that one day no one in Caido would have to worry about sentiments like these – to wonder if they’d have to break apart infiltrations or fight against monsters. Safe, guarded, protected, and refined away from horrors and traumas.
But with Starfall present, this wouldn’t be one of those times.
Remaining in his crouch, content in the rain, he listened to Amhran reason and parse. “Yes.” He answered first; to the invasiveness, to the way it, and so many of its kind, seemed to yearn to take over. “They have already infested the Greatwood, Feverlands, and Oerwoud.” Deimos worried it would target another soon, eventually – already perturbed by the circumstances and not showing it other than through a furrowed brow. “Do you want to examine it further first?” At that, he utilized his earth magic to peel the plant away from the sodden soil, just as he’d done with multitudes, the roots still encased, and permitting it to hover in the air, never touching the demigod.
"Oh, I see." That did sound concerning, even to Amhran's relatively pacifistic nature, and he drops into another crouch beside Deimos to take one last cursory examination of the plant now that it's right before him. Even in the rain the aura of unease radiating out from it is almost palpable, and despite himself, he wrinkles his nose and shakes his head.
"I think I have seen enough of it," he decides, straightening up once more and backing away to collect his shoes and enjoy the sweet fall of the rain on his face and shoulders. He doesn't necessarily want to see it disposed of, it's true, but it's quite clear based on the Sword's context that it can't be allowed to continue to grow out here among the sand dunes and barren scrubland.
The study and perusal didn’t seem to last long; perhaps it was the dread and apprehension coating through the lotus, or merely the expanse of what it encompassed. Taking it as permission, Deimos drew the sentiments of fire from his veins, and the magic pulsed strongly, despite the rain, smothering and smoldering against the plant until it seethed and tore and bled out its scent (the Sword blinked away a number of fast maneuvering nightmares from his eyes), and then became nothing more than ash.
Scattering that in the wind, he drew upwards again, no longer needing to crouch in the sodden earth. “Did you want to see anything else?” There were other pathways and portions to explore, and maybe something far more intriguing and interesting to the demigod than a doomed and damned void plant; not wanting the trip to be a reel of disappointment.
07-20-2024, 06:13 AM (This post was last modified: 07-20-2024, 06:13 AM by Amhran.)
the harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun
Purposely moving upwind of Deimos as he disposes of the plant, Amhran lets his gaze rove out across a landscape made strange by the sudden and torrential downpour. Luckily, the sound of the rain masks whatever the Sword is doing to the void flora, and by the time it has been disposed of and the other man speaks again, Amhran is freshly interested in something else.
"Let's go this way, maybe?" He points across to a flat area in the distance, where he's certain he can see rainbows cascading across the land. (It's a mirage, of course, created by the water on the heated ground, but the Raeling isn't to know that). Either way, Amhran is already heading in that direction, and while they may not come across any other void plants, they'll certainly get some good explorations under their belt before it's time to go home.
