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!
The sun has long since burned away the morning mist, but its warmth doesn't descend readily. A truth all around Caido this season, but it seems particularly distant today, at least here, upon her. The knitted poncho around her shoulders is one she draws tighter across her chest, fingers curling into the fabric with a grip that turns her knuckles pale.
She has avoided this place ever since she walked away from it. It's been traveled plenty of times in her sleep, and while returning home should seem like a dream, it's always been the nightmare of it burning. Standing before it now, there's no flames licking up all she'd ever known, nor the blackened bones of what had already been picked clean by the voracious fire, but it still rolls through her with all the smoke of something extinguishing slowly.
"It almost doesn't look like it," she murmurs beside Thorn, the words requiring enough effort from her that her head doesn't have the strength left to hold itself. Slowly she leans into his shoulder, cheek resting there. The tilt of her gaze continues to trail every edge of strangeness that has come to rest over something once as familiar as her own hand. Her inhale catches on the way in, suspended in the back of her throat before her ribs make room for it.
"It's pretty, though." The meadow is a fury of color, unlike any of the rest would naturally be. Here, all the seeds Sunjata spread had flourished, fed by ash that has soaked into the soil.
Complete a thread unearthing flowers from Meadowreach (roots and all!)
Baby, don't fall for me, I'll tell you right now You're gonna hate me when we hit the ground Think you're gonna fix me, think we're making progress You'll be broken with me somewhere in the process
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.
At this point, the planted flowers had certainly grown up enough to have steady roots among the ashen remains of the ranch. And with it, the slow bloom of all the flowers and their rainbows of colors were pretty – like a reminder that from the ashes, something beautiful could be made. It almost reminds him of Colt, in a way. That despite the terrible thing(s) that had happened, she’d always found a way to turn it into something better. This part, in particular, was a catalyst of her going to Hak Etme, and for that Thorn is quietly proud of his friend.
“Yeah.” He agrees softly, his arm wrapping around her as she tucks in against his side, hugging her gently as her cheek warms up his shoulder, injecting through his coat. “Do you want specific flowers or are we jus’ goin’ for what looks nicest?” He asks, angling his head toward her and shoots her a small but gentle smile. He squeezes her shoulders gently, looking back toward the flowers thoughtfully. “M’a sucker for the pink ‘n purple ones.” But she’d know that.
It should sit as a symbol of how even damaged things can adapt and thrive, and that thought passes, but so too does the one that every mark she'd made here has been so thoroughly erased even she can barely find the sketch of them. The world does not wait to move on, and it'll bury whatever it can in the process. She swallows.
The wind of his arm against her tugs her back to him, and she stirs a little, sighing against the reminder of the present. "A little of everything," she says in gentle answer, lifting her head and turning an eye towards the shift of his gaze from meadow to her. "Kind of like the time we collected flowers to keep out the void." Her smile is weak, but present, and the more it tries the shape of itself on her lips, the more insistent it becomes.
Easing fully off the crutch of him, she reaches for the bag slung around her other shoulder, pulling it around front. She withdraws a trowel in each hand as if intending to duel-wield in the battle against grief, but the formidable gardening appearance doesn't last before she hands one over to him. "You get the pinka nd purple," she hums, "I'll nab the blue and yellow." With nothing more than a nod and another gathered breath, she starts down the slope to where her house had once stood, bag thumping at her side, and eventually crouches down to drive her trowel in under the dirt and roots. They'll be excavating the flowers for replanting in Hak Etme for Rae, and it seems fitting she'd select part of one home to bring to another. There's enough to spare, and they'd repopulate the gaps themselves before long.
"So tell me," she says with enough pause to cut a glance over to Thorn over her shoulder. "What's got you smiling this much. I saw it on your face the whole time we were riding, and I expected a much different expression then." With all the heaviness that's been dragging her down for so long, it feels she barely has the means to stay above water and catch her breath, but she grabs hold of the opportunity for something lighter in the hopes it might shed some of what pulls her under.
Baby, don't fall for me, I'll tell you right now You're gonna hate me when we hit the ground Think you're gonna fix me, think we're making progress You'll be broken with me somewhere in the process
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.
“Aye, that I can do.” Thorn offers warmly, shooting her a slightly brighter smile – knowing how hard this was for her and still damn proud she’s doing it anyway. The smile that’s there is small, but promising, and Thorn opts to try and keep it on her face as much as he feasibly can. She starts to pull away from his embrace and he lets her, taking a moment to tighten the jacket around his frame to keep out the cold while she reaches for the bag and the contents within.
For a moment, he thinks she might be double fisting the flower party, but she soon concedes the trowel to him that he takes with ease. “Hell yeah.” Thorn beams at her, waiting until she starts to dig before Thorn drifts over to the patch of purple and pink flowers, crouching low beside it to start digging up the roots and all of these particular wildflowers.
He should have anticipated the question, because it wasn’t like she didn’t pick up on his own little tics and usual behavior. “Uh, well..” He nibbles on his lower lip, glancing over the flowers to look back at Colt before he laughs a boyish sound. “I asked Cas t’dinner with me. Finally got him out from behind th’ bar.” He plucks the pink flower from the hole he’d dug to make sure he got the roots of it before he puffs out his chest a little. “An’ I think he likes me..”
The earth is harder than usual given the season they're in, and a stark contrast to last year's muddy reign. She prefers this need to carve out the flowers though over the slop of last spring, least of all everything else that came with it.
Angling her trowel down and carving out a circle of motion around the blue flower, she tilts the handle until her knuckles kiss the ground and gently pops the flower and its root ball free. With her other hand, she gingerly places it into the leather pouch at her side. As she drives the metal tool into the dirt around a yellow flower, Thorn's careful answer starts to drift over, and his laugh finally lends her pause as she shoots him a curious look. He sounds almost shy about it, and that's as far from the Thorn she knows as she could imagine, having already seen him angry once at least.
The explanation he finally shakes loose has her brows vanishing into her hat and her mouth popping open with the sheer surprise and violent delight. "No you did not!?" she demands, slapping down her palm on the ground as she leans in on her arm and gawks at him. Except he continues, and Colt pops up into something straighter over the fold of her kneel and instead clasps both sides of her face with her hands, not minding the dust that scrapes there like dark blush.
"THORN!!" He's not close enough to smack her affection into him so she has to depend on her voice to do the trick. "Gods, finally. The adorable little rivalry you two have had going for soooo long was driving me up a wall." It's quite astonishing too, really. She doesn't know many who can hold out against Thorn's charms so well, not once he really lays them on. Although maybe it'd been the change up to antagonization that'd finally done the trick.
"Tell me everything."
Baby, don't fall for me, I'll tell you right now You're gonna hate me when we hit the ground Think you're gonna fix me, think we're making progress You'll be broken with me somewhere in the process
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.
