From being an Abandoned who had rarely left the Hollowed Grounds, to embracing the call of adventure, to dying and being reborn first as an Ascended and then as an Ancient, Maea has gone through quite the amount of changes in her life. One thing remains common, though, in her attempts to find out just where she belongs; she’s always had a craving for knowledge which has brought her to so many places and to meet so many people here in Caido. We can’t wait to see what else is in store for her!
Congratulations, Maea!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
Every so often, he had to think about that and take a moment to breathe. Once upon a time, he would have laughed at the idea, so sure he would never want to partake in such a traditional show of commitment. But now that he had Rexanna, everything in him wanted to jump on the rooftops, sing out to the people: I love this woman! Look at her! We will be each others forever and this world will do nothing about it!
He wondered why he had never seen the chance for dramatic theatre a wedding was. Now that he had seen the opportunity, he was not going to waste it. This was going to be the most beautiful wedding ever.
So he set aside all other artistic endeavours and decided to work only on decorations for the event until the day. It would be evening, in Deepfrost, so some kind of light would be needed, as well as bright decorations and ornaments for the surrounding area.
Bastien was cutting out shapes to become folded stars and spirals, to hang from trees and catch the light - he painted each with a swipe of his brush, giving it the appearance of shifting and changing. Humming along with his thought player (which played a half-remembered version of a wedding song) he was totally wrapped up in his work.
08-30-2019, 01:54 PM (This post was last modified: 08-30-2019, 01:54 PM by Loren.)
They say blood makes you related but
loyalty makes you family
Loren had heard from multiple people that the Launceleyn Manor had, among other things, a severe image problem. While it was to be expected, given what he’d heard of Zariah’s reign and Edy’s proclivities, it bothered him more than he cared to admit. Or maybe that was because it lined up with his own worries: his family was bad news, always was, and always would be, despite what certain members professed. Besides the metaphorical image problem, it also had a literal image problem. The crests and dark fabrics, while they might have been the traditional Launceleyn colors and heraldry, didn’t match the way Loren felt upon his return. Or maybe they never had matched, and he was just now coming to terms with all the baggage his family had left.
Well, whichever one it was, screw tradition. Loren decided to do something about both issues at the same. He could maybe kill two birds with one stone and take care of both image problems at once. After asking around, he’d found out there was an Artist’s Guild now, which was an exciting albeit unexpected development. Still, it worked out in his favor, so he wasn’t complaining.
After getting directions, the librarian was pleased to note that the Guild wasn’t too far from the manor. So Loren had set off: he made his way through the domiciles until he came to the Guild, which was much smaller than he expected. However, undeterred, he entered, eyes widening as he took in the beautiful projects in various stages of completion. For a moment, he stood there, dumbstruck, heart aching at the vision of so much creation. It stood in stark contrast to the atmosphere of the manor (which practically oozed oppression and destruction) that it was almost like they were in totally lands, and not down the street from one another.
Once he got over his shock, he glanced around, pleased to spot someone. ”Um, excuse me.” His voice came out more tentatively than he’d meant it to, but he’d gotten used to that fact these days. Then his mind caught up to his eyes, and the Launceleyn realized the other man was definitely in the middle of something. Or rather, a lot of somethings. ”Oh. Sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Loren paused, awkwardly hovering in the doorway. ”I can come back later if now is a bad time.” This was, after all, definitely low on his list of priorities, and it wasn’t like he didn’t have a whole lot to do before Deepfrost.
Still, he’d been hoping that at least this one errand might work out. Again, this whole wanting things was still foreign nature to him: he’d been conditioned to do as he was told and not ask questions, and his time away certainly hadn’t helped to break that habit. New decoration for the manor had seemed like an easy thing, but Loren was learning that nothing would ever be easy in the Hollowed Grounds, at least for him.
Deimos had broken the news to her, had told her that her mother was to be marrying the painter, something she hadn’t expected. From once her mother had gone from king to seer to king again, to now settle down with an artistic man with a mind built for creation rather than destruction. It prickles at the back of her mind, had she not been the Elephant General’s daughter, and still her mothers, how much different she would have been. How much different her life could have been.
But she doesn’t dwell on it, instead, she spots the notice and well — if they are to be family, she should at least try to learn something about him. Maybe tell him she exists, and despite the tentative relationship with her mother, she’s still watching, still willing to cover her mother’s back.
Or maybe it’s the blight talking.
Either way, she and Auni make their way to the Guildhall. She had enjoyed helping Amalia with the puppet show, and she finds that if she could do that, she likely had it in her to help with this too. Unless, of course, her trembling hands got the best of her. The two of them enter, pausing behind Loren briefly while he speaks before she shoves her shaky hands into her pockets and Auni dives straight through the space between Loren and the wall before he stops before Bastien, the lolling of a tongue sticking out the side.
Kiada foo steps around Loren with a light shrug, before she looks to Bastien. “Hey, uh, I’m Kiada.” She manages, standing up taller — far taller than her mother. “I’m here to help for the wedding?” She tells him, glancing over her shoulder toward Loren briefly, wondering if he was here for that too or a different reason. She also wonders if Bastien can see any of her mother in her — her dark hair falls the same, framing a similarly pale face, but her eyes are icy compared to the hardened sapphires of her mother’s, and she has quite a few more scars too.
& i bled every time somebody touched me
ok, ok, i wasn't beautiful, not even in golden light
does it really matter, anyway?
we all get swallowed eventually
Kiada has a large X scar on the right side of her neck.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Kiada, without killing her <3
A voice drew Bastien from his work, and he looked up to see a man he did not recognise stood in the doorway. He smiled, always glad to see that his guild was attracting new faces. "No, my friend, I would like the company. Come, sit. Have some of the wine, if you wish to." He gestured to one of the couches along the edge of the room, which were finely made but scuffed and stained with little dashes and blobs of paint.
Before he could ask what it was the man wanted (he knew that kind of stance. This was not just a casual visitor) another entered. This time a woman, who he did not recognise either but something about her felt familiar, as if he had a memory of her he could not quite recall.
The music on the thought player changed to a more jaunty sitting room piano tune as his mind drifted to thoughts of guests. "Ah! How wonderful. For you see--" He turned to Loren. "I am getting married. Come, sit, ah...?" He gestured to Kiada, asking her name, then looked to Loren with the same question.
"If you would wish to help me, you could paint those with that brush - it will do the most wonderful things to the paint without you needing to do too much." He asked, pointing at the decorations already made but still plain.
09-01-2019, 06:01 PM (This post was last modified: 09-01-2019, 08:49 PM by Loren.)
They say blood makes you related but
loyalty makes you family
The man welcomed Loren into the paint-filled sanctuary, and the Launceleyn gave the artist a cautious smile before the summoner made his way to the couch. Sitting without a care for his own clothes (Loren had never cared much for his appearance, and now less than ever) the librarian glanced at the wine, but did not take any. ”Thank you. And I’m good.” Alcohol and the summoner was not a good combination at the moment. Or ever.
As the woman entered directly after him, Loren twisted in his seat to get a good look at her. She had the build and the grace of a fighter, and was relatively tall (though not nearly as tall as most of the women in the Hollowed Grounds seemed to be), but thankfully was unfamiliar to him. Indeed, strangers were generally easier to deal with. At the mention of the wedding, however, Loren threw the other man a startled glance. ”Are you Bastien?” There was only one wedding the Launceleyn knew of, and it was between Rexanna and, yes, a man named Bastien. If this was indeed that man, then the summoner would gladly help in whatever way he could. Indeed, his own errand was almost completely forgotten.
However, when the other man asked for the librarian’s name, he hesitated for just an instant, almost imperceptibly. ”I’m Loren.” Hopefully neither of them would notice—or ask him for his last name—since being related to Zariah did not endear the summoner to anyone. At the artist’s direction, the Launceleyn glanced over at the plain decorations, then at the brush. Although the other man had assured them that they could do wonderful things, Loren knew he was not much of an artist and did not trust his hands; though they were well used to fine tasks and writing and all manner of arcane arts, actual art was another thing entirely. So the Launceleyn stepped close and used his very limited telekinesis to lift the brush and begin painting patterns in gold and ivory. Hopefully they wouldn’t be too terrible, being created directly from his thoughts as they were.
The painter has an accented voice, and Kiada wonders what it is with her mother and men that spoke other languages, but she keeps her mouth shut — eyes drifting from Loren to with a light shrug as he introduces himself and Bastien’s voice slips toward her, too, questioningly. “I’m Kiada.” She repeats, not caring if her mother’s secrets are out or not. They aren’t her secrets, after all.
She moves to sit before she continues. “Her daughter, though I hope that she told you all of that.” She pauses, icy eyes slipping from the painter to Auni while he peruses the decor, offering a light gilt glow to the metallic paints. She picks up a few of the paints, opting for moonlight and mountains, knowing her mother would appreciate the touch. After all, she’s trying.
Her gaze slips back to Auni briefly as she contemplates. “Auni, njoo. Kaa karibu yangu.” She hums to her companion in her fathers tongue, perhaps to be a little bit of a menace, but the Luxere listens — drifting to Kiada’s side and settling in on the floor while she begins to paint with trembling hands, splattering stars on a wash of blues, purples, and greens. Icy gaze slips toward Bastien after, almost as if she’s bragging. ‘You’re not the only one who speaks another language.’
auni, njoo. kaa karibu yangu. — Auni, come. Stay by me.
& i bled every time somebody touched me
ok, ok, i wasn't beautiful, not even in golden light
does it really matter, anyway?
we all get swallowed eventually
Kiada has a large X scar on the right side of her neck.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Kiada, without killing her <3
Loren passed on the wine; Bastien did not press the matter (after all, drinking was much like sex, only fun when all parties were fully enthusiastic) but did reach over to grab his own glass. While the taste was duller and the effects virtually gone after his Ascension, he still could not deny the feeling of culture and simple pleasure that came to him from holding a glass of wine while painting.
"I am Bastien, indeed. I am glad to know my fame precedes me." He grinned. When he heard Kiada's name though (and actually realised she was bringing a Luxuere behind her) his face turned to an expression of surprise. Now that he knew, he could see the resemblance to Rexanna. "Yes, she has told me of you. I am honoured to meet you."
Loren lifted the brush without touching it, something Bastien had found amazing every time Remi had done it and found it was no different with Loren. Kiada began to work too, and he nodded at both of their pattern work before going back to his own project, speaking as he made. "You two are not connected guests, I assume?"
”I’m, ah, friends with Rexanna.” Loren hoped she wouldn’t mind him making that claim. ”And I saw the invitation on the notice board.” Bastien had an easy manner about him, one that Loren could never possibly hope to emulate. Indeed, even with the now lively music—that was a neat trick, one the summoner would’ve loved to find out more about—the librarian mostly stood there, awkwardly shifting his weight from one side to the other. That only grew worse when Kiada mentioned that she was Rexanna’s daughter. The Launceleyn glanced over at Kiada for just a moment, then pointedly turned his back to the two of them. While he couldn’t exactly give them space, he could at least give them the illusion of privacy. Instead, he watches the small deer creature with a faint smile on his lips. However, when Kiada speaks in another tongue, the summoner can’t help looking over at her again.
Loren wasn’t entirely sure what Bastien meant by that comment, so he paused, brush floating in mid-air; a few drops of paint tried to escape it and he idly forced them back with his magic. His telekinesis was quite limited, so he reached out to grasp the brush, intending to switch up his strategy. ”No, not connected guests.” In fact, the Launceleyn wasn’t entirely sure he was invited. Oh, sure the notice had said everyone was welcome, but given everything the summoner had done to the people of the Hollowed Grounds he wasn’t sure his presence would be appropriate for the festive occasion. Looking between the two, the summoner bit his lip. ”I’m going to summon something, so don’t be startled.” With that, he focuses his will and his magic for just a moment.
A golem made of rocks and his mind popped into existence right next to him: Loren had been sure to pick a spot where it wouldn’t damage anything. It was slightly larger than a man, but not that much. At the summoner’s direction, it bent down and picked up two brushes, one colored with warm colors and another with cool. It brought them up to two different decorations at once, and Loren instructed it to paint as beautiful as he could imagine, his brow furrowed in concentration. Thankfully, even despite its rough features, its hands moved dexterously enough.
He seems kind enough, softer than her father, despite his Ascended status, and she inadvertently gnaws on her lip when she dips her head in a nod that almost says ‘likewise’ before she takes up her station. At Bastien’s next question, the Harpy shakes her head no, and listens while Loren speaks. “I have been told I’m coming to the wedding regardless of whether I want to or not, so I figured I might as well help.” She admits, lifting her eyes toward Bastien with a tilt to her head.
But Loren’s speaking next, and her icy gaze flits over to him as she finishes the paint on the decoration she holds. The Harpy says nothing, but instead watches, while Loren summons a golem of sorts and watches with a small amount of surprise at the dexterity and help the creature gives. Suddenly, she feels a small amount inadequate, biting down on her cheek harder again as her fingers tremble against the blight.
She might not be able to do a quick painting like Loren is showing how to do, but she certainly can have a bit more history in the decorations and depictions. Her gaze slips back toward Bastien with a somewhat raised brow. “In Helovia, my mother had a marbled polecat as a companion. His name was Marembo.” She tells him somewhat informatively. “They look like black and gold weasels. If you think it would be nice to include maybe we could make one for her?” She asks him, because she knows she can’t do it herself.
& i bled every time somebody touched me
ok, ok, i wasn't beautiful, not even in golden light
does it really matter, anyway?
we all get swallowed eventually
Kiada has a large X scar on the right side of her neck.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Kiada, without killing her <3
"Ah, then you are a friend of mine." Bastien assured Loren. Though as far as he could remember, he had never heard Rexanna mention the name - something to ask her about later, perhaps.
Kiada's words, implying that she was being forced to attend his wedding, caused him some more concern. "I promise you, if you do not wish to come, I will not insist upon it. Though you would be missing quite the event of the year...ah." He shrugged. "Things like this are only fun if everyone wants to be involved." He really didn't know who would be making Kiada go; it did not seem like something Rex would do given what she had last said about her long lost daughter.
Loren informed him he was going to summon something. Bastien nodded but did not really understand was definitely a little more than 'startled' as the golem appeared. It was a pleasant shock though, magic always seeming an amazing spectacle to him. He clapped his hands together and said: "Oh, bravo! What an odd fellow. Do you prefer to paint through the hands of another?"
Bastien had not been sure what to expect from Kiada, after Rexanna's words. Perhaps not outright hostility, but perhaps coldness. Yet it seemed she was warm enough to speak of her mother's 'polecat' fondly, even suggest making them for Rexanna. "What a wonderful idea. Would it look something like this...?" Grabbing a piece of paper and a pen, he quickly drew a sketch of how he imagined the creature from her description.
As Bastien responded to the revelation that Loren was, well, maybe friends with Rexanna (though the summoner would learn that was true soon enough), the Launceleyn smiled. ”Thank you. That’s very kind of you.” Loren didn’t make friends easily, so getting two for the price of one was an exciting prospect for him. Of course, seeing as the Launceleyn didn’t trust himself to keep either friendship, let alone both, he wasn’t getting his hopes too high.
Then the conversation became awkward and personal, and Loren turned back to the decorations he was responsible for, doing his best to give Kiada and Bastien what privacy the Launceleyn could. Knowing a little bit about complicated family dynamics—his relatives were nothing if not complicated and dynamic—he figured they’d appreciate the gesture. That didn’t mean he wasn’t listening, of course. It just meant he felt bad overhearing what they were saying.
However, the other man’s delighted clapping when the summoner called upon his golem caused him to turn. Loren ran an embarrassed hand through his hair and gave the artist a sheepish grin. ”I have no experience with painting, but, well, my creatures follow my thoughts exactly, so there’s less opportunity for my body and my hands to get in the way.” It was the honest truth, though the Launceleyn felt a little silly admitting it. He glanced between Kiada and Bastien, wondering what they’d make of the summoner’s oddities.
Then the conversation swung back to the two others, and Rexanna, and got awkward and tense again. So Loren once more turned to the golem and gave it directions, doing his best to tune out the words being spoken behind him. It was impossible for him to succeed at that completely, but he was doing his best. Some of the paint had splattered on the golem, giving it a cheerful and festive look at odds with the atmosphere in the workshop.
As Bastien’s voice reaches the air between them, Kiada tilts her head in a slightly predatory manner, a small smirk on her face. “Ah, but you don’t get the choice.” She hums thoughtfully. No, not even her mother had a hand in it. Deimos was the one to blame, but at the very least she didn’t have to attend in her flesh and skin – a caracal or a vulture would work, it would do the same. She could claim she’s attended, even without her face being visible.
She begins to get to work, shifting her attention between Loren and his creature and she returns to her own designs, asking Bastien for help as much as she doesn’t want to. (The girl has issues asking for help all the time.) And luckily for her, he agrees, so she slides over toward him, with Auni on her heel to keep an eye on the drawing. She watches him work, head tilted over the paper as she confirms things here and there. “His body was mostly brownish black, but he had spots of gold, and blue eyes.” She tells him after confirming the shape, helping with the colors.
If he truly knew her mother, he’d know how similar those were to the woman he’s marrying.
& i bled every time somebody touched me
ok, ok, i wasn't beautiful, not even in golden light
does it really matter, anyway?
we all get swallowed eventually
Kiada has a large X scar on the right side of her neck.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Kiada, without killing her <3
Making art via a stone golem was one of the more imaginative mediums Bastien had seen, but he did not object; no, he actually wondered if this could be the beginning of a new era for the guild. "Do you think you could leave one here for others less confident in their own hands to use? Or indeed, the guild could benefit greatly from a member as talented as yourself. If you wish to join you need only ask."
The same went for Kiada, but Bastien suspected they were not yet at a point where she would want to spend a lot of time in a room creating with him. All good things in time.
She described the animal to him and he corrected his sketch a little, added a few dots of colour. "He seems a fitting animal for Rexanna, I must say. Perhaps I should ask someone born here if there are any similar creatures out in the wilds." Not that he had any idea how you'd tame such a thing enough to make it a pet.
"...Ah...Kiada. I must ask you something." Looking up, he hesitated for just a moment, then asked what had been on his mind since she had walked in. "Rexanna told me you did not seem to care a great deal for her. Yet here you are, helping me to plan the event and telling me of her pet. Is it not true? Has your mother got the wrong idea?"
Once again, Loren was reminded that basically no one in the Hollowed Grounds had any idea how summoning magic worked. He gave Bastien a sheepish and apologetic look. ”Unfortunately, no. I’m the only one who can direct it. Even if others could give it commands, it only lasts as long as my energy does, and I need to be physically present to manifest it.” At the offer to become an artist, Loren laughed. ”I’m flattered, but I think my talents probably lie elsewhere. Thank you, though.” Decorations for the wedding aside, the summoner hardly had much talent or imagination.
Then, however, Kiada and Bastien went back to their awkward conversation and the Launceleyn went back to awkwardly pretending he wasn’t listening to every word. The golem had finished the two closest to it, so Loren ordered it onto the next two, and stepped closer to them as well; it wasn’t strictly necessary, but again, he was trying to maintain the illusion of privacy.
