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!
What does she know about Frey? What does she know about Frey? Ha, well, she’s walked along the Hollowed Grounds for far longer than the midwife has. This is where she was born. This is her one and only home. But sure, let’s get it out of the way that she’s Ascended early, since everyone likes to bring it up all the time, but she hasn’t always been this way. It’s worthless to keep trying to explain it, and so the Queen doesn’t. Instead, she ignores the useless midwife for the key, backtracking toward a shitty locked door.
The demogorgon begins to make its way toward them, and Wessex fiddles with the lock, putting the key inside and wiggling it around. The creature then tries to swipe for Pim or Phoebe, but fuck it, she’s a little busy. If the midwife wants to be useless, Wessex will not stop her. It’ll likely end up being her fault, but so long as they get the door open they could be free and away from creatures and fires.
Apparently, Wessex was just ignoring what Phoebe had to say now. No doubt it was because the Ascended Queen had no easy answer about The Voice. Indeed, the midwife knew that Wessex’s goddess did not care for anyone but herself. Though she professed to care for her beloved Ascended, The Voice also used them for nefarious ends, and refused to reveal her goals and intentions. It was so obvious, and the fact that people were blind to it was shocking, frankly. Well, Phoebe wasn’t going to let The Voice carry out her hidden agenda. Luckily, the midwife had her own, much better and more caring god on her side. Frey would never let The Voice carry out her devious machinations unopposed.
Still, Phoebe couldn't let the other woman get away with giving the midwife the cold shoulder. She let out a little annoyed huff at Wessex before Phoebe opened her mouth to tell the Ascended Queen that her silence was damning. Unfortunately, at that exact moment, the monster came back.
In fact, it came straight for Phoebe. She felt her terror grow as the creature charged straight for her and Pim. Of course Wessex didn’t lift a finger to help the midwife. The Ascended Queen was only concerned with saving her own skin and the skin of her fellow Ascended, it seemed, as she always was. The Ascended Queen didn't care for anyone else, especially those that dared to speak up against her. Well, Phoebe wasn't going to make that easy for her. Letting out a shriek, she fell backwards, trying to put Wessex between herself and the creature. ”Frey, please! I need you.” Her best friend hadn’t shown up yet and she couldn't understand why. At this point, the midwife would’ve taken help from any source. She was a healer, not a fighter, and would only get in the way in the fight that was about to come. All she could do was pray that something would help her, since it seemed the Ascended Queen was perfectly willing to abandon Phoebe to her fate.
Pim, unlike the Ascended Queen, didn’t hesitate to protect the midwife. His Phoebe was in danger, so he had to make sure this monster didn't come back a third time. As she fell back, the dragonling leapt from her arms with a fierce cry, blasting at the monster with as much rainbow lightning as Pim was capable of generating. Nobody was touching a single hair on the midwife's blonde head, not while he was around. The dragonling didn’t need Frey or the Ascended Queen to keep the midwife safe. He was powerful enough to protect both of them.
10-22-2019, 06:23 PM (This post was last modified: 10-22-2019, 06:23 PM by Shark.)
Rule number one: always keep the curtains drawn.
Rule number two: only open the door, if you hear my secret knock.
The key fits in the lock, and even turns (albeit reluctantly), but the door still doesn't open. It's jammed, it seems, though through decay or time or magic or unlucky dice we may never know. It does seem to have some give, though, so maybe that's a good sign.
Pim's fearless attack once more sends the demogorgon reeling, though not before it takes a good swipe at the little dragon, slashing into the little thing's side and leaving a sparkling trail of pretty pink scales that fall dramatically to the floor, awash with the red of his blood. Ow! Is this it for the group, cornered and trapped against an unbudging door?
But no - Phoebe's piety is indeed great, enough to transcend worlds. Even the things that live here can feel her devotion to goodness, and though her calls for Frey only seem to antagonize the monster more, there are others listening. One, especially, seems to have taken an interest, and with a pop as loud as a firecracker it appears in a plume of purple smoke, causing both Phoebe and the demogorgon to begin coughing uncontrollably.
And when the smoke clears, what is there? A satyr. A very fat, very drunk satyr, naked as the day is long, eyeing Phoebe lecherously as it wobbles toward her on unsteady goat legs. "Pretty pretty thing... pretty thing. Earl will help you, don't you fear, all you need to do is - hic! - ask." With one incredibly sweaty hand it reaches out to caress the midwife's cheek, ignoring Wessex entirely for now.
The demogorgon seems utterly taken aback by this development, and has retreated about 10 feet away.
What will you do?
Rule number three: Don’t ever go out alone… especially not in the daylight.
Wessex decides a few things very quickly. First, this place is shit, and she wants out of it as soon as possible. Second, the midwife is virtually useless. Third, the pink dragon makes up for Phoebe’s inability to do anything other than grovel for the gods.
Things don’t seem to turn up so well at the moment, though, as the ascended puts the key into the lock, turns it, and tries to open it. Fuck, it’s jammed. Because of course it is. At least Phoebe has distracted the demogorgon and she can focus on trying to open the door, preparing to ram her shoulder into it to give it enough of a push to open up.
When suddenly… There’s a plume of purple smoke. And is that…? It’s drunk?! Honestly, can’t get any better than this. (Read: sarcasm.) Entirely annoyed and still somewhat anxious around the fire that burns closer and closer, she doesn’t mind that the satyr ignores her. She hadn’t been the one to beg for its appearance, and she’s more than happy to let Phoebe deal with it.
It could either serve to distract the creature, or help open the door. Against her better judgement, she lets Phoebe decide.
The queen takes a few steps away from the door, preparing her shoulder enough and silently thinking of her Lady, of how she might be able to heal whatever injuries might occur from ramming her fucking shoulder into the door. And without a second thought, she takes a few quick steps, hoping to dislodge the door.
Pim’s lightning was enough to send the monster reeling again. Thank goodness. However, as Phoebe watched, horrified, the monster took a swipe at the dragonling. Blood and scales splattered on the ground and she shrieked. Pim, though, was not deterred. A little scratch like that wasn’t enough to keep him from his solemn duty to protect his Phoebe. Indeed, he had already opened his mouth to send another blast at the monster.
At that moment, though, a plume of purple smoke exploded and wreathed around the midwife and the monster. They both started coughing, and the monster retreated to a safe distance to watch this new development. When her eyes and throat cleared, she was shocked to see a satyr had appeared in the hallway. ”Did Frey send you?” Her voice came out hopefully.
However, Phoebe shrank back from Earl's touch, wrinkling her nose. She might’ve been desperate to be loved, but she had some standards and a drunk and fat satyr certainly didn’t meet them. In fact, it seemed that no one did, and they all left her in the end. ”Stay away from me. I am best friends with the god of sex and love, so I don’t need some drunk satyr. If you lay a hand on me, they will be very unhappy with you. So if I were you I’d think less about touching me with your sweaty hands and more about keeping me safe.” While it wasn't her friend, this satyr had answered the midwife's call.
Pointing at the monster, Phoebe gave Earl her most authoritative look. As a midwife and as the Dean of the Caido Medical College, she was well used to giving orders to mothers in labor, patients, their loved ones, as well as her professors and students. ”Take care of that monster for me.”
Earl taken care of, she moved to Pim. While she wasn’t a fighter, she was a healer, and so she knelt to apply pressure to the dragonling’s wound. He gave her an adoring and fierce look, since just as he took care of her, she took care of him, playing to their strengths. Sparing a glance for Wessex, Phoebe was unsurprised to see the Ascended Queen still struggling with the door. For all that Wessex pretended she was all-powerful and all-knowing, she couldn’t even seem to do the simplest tasks properly.
"Oh oh, so am I, pretty - hic - nymph!" Though, to be fair, Earl's god of love and sex is very, very different from Phoebe's. Like... Really. A lot.
We're Earl any less drunk he might have pointed out that touching people is exactly what the god of love and sex would be happy with, but instead he simple grins because h has thoroughly misunderstood and believes the blonde to herself be a love nymph. As Phoebe instructs Earl to handle the monster, the satyr leers in obvious delight, bringing his rank face appalling close to the midwife's. "And then you'll take care of me, pretty nymph."
There is a beautiful, majestic moment, the type that might be seen in an action movie. To Wessex and Phoebe it will feel like slow motion as th drunken satyr charges the demogorgon, fat rolls and dick bouncing with each step, a battle bleat pealing from his lips. What beauty. What grace.
What a splat.
The satyr and the demogorgon meet in a beautiful display of muscle and adipose, slamming squarely into one another and beginning to wrestle. By some miracle Earl appears to be an exact match for the monster in terms of attack strength. Wild.
Wessex, meanwhile, has managed to crack the door enough that she can probably squeeze through. It's impossible to tell what's on the other side, though. What will you do?
