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!
LongNight held the potential of making him quieter than normal; tucked away in alcoves and corners, pondering and contemplating the next searing action they’d have to take. He was also confined, caged, not his preferred method of existence, much like a predator ensnared and entrapped, and were he not occupying himself with bits and pieces of armor again, he might’ve been caught pacing the floorboards. For now, his hands were busy with chainmail once more, adding to the already collected pile he’d assembled along previous days, the pending demolition to the eternal evening, biding the hours and minutes until the next onslaught. Yesteryear’s madness and debacle had taught him to be prepared for anything, and any ministration was heightened by his senses, alert, vigilant, attentive, to movement, to motions, to sights and sounds out of the ordinary, threatening, ominous, or lethal.
Zuriel maneuvered nearby, the haughty, superior, and noble outlook upon her features entangled only further as she gazed upon the crowd, occasionally maneuvering closer to him, shoving at his shoulder for amusement or diversion tactics. He’d snort and roll his eyes, before granting her a pat on the muzzle, or tending back to his work. Some bracers were already settled along his chosen table, while his wands wove pieces of string to draw and tie them around, intending to ensure some measures of safety, precautions, and guarding wares, preambles and preludes to the chaos surely meant to ignite.
Sascha, the frail being after the blight illness had started to feel antsy being locked inside to such a degree he had earlier stuffed his face with food until he almost exploded. Well at least thats how it had felt like. He had barely eaten anything during the illness so his stumic must be big as a anorectic needle right about now which made it so that the two slices of bread he stuffed his face with felt like a never ending buffé for him. He had lost alot of weight as well and considering he hadn't been very big before the whole ordeal either he looked like a powerful sneeze would tip him over right now. But not all bad for him considering he had FINALLY started to feel well again and the weight he lost could finally be recovered with time.
After doing litterally NOTHING for an hour after his meal he didnt want to endure this anymore which made him slap his palm against the table to then force himself up. The slap made a nervous man squeel which in turn instanty made Sascha jump on the spot before in slight panic excuse his own behavior. Typical Sascha after all and as soon as the startled man had calmed down Sascha went on his adventure of the day. Sure; he couldnt really go outside but certainly there was something else he could do instead of sitting on his butt doing exactly NOTHING for another 13 hours.
The noodeling Sascha had no plans as he started to circulate inside the building, dressed in black as usual but with the hair a whole lot longer then people was used to. After all; not many had seen him before now since.. illness. Soon enough he spotted someone though which made him with a confused look stop in his tracks and squint his eyes towards the man a bit farther away. The bodyshape of the man was well familiar and as Deimos moved his head so he got a clear view of him he finally saw exactly who the man was! Without even hesitating he quickly went up to Deimos and dropped his butt on the free chair at his table with a happy; "Hello ~ " in such a sudden manner that most people (espicially during these times) would jump out of their boots.
SASCHA
"The greatest glory in living lies not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall."
His hands glowed and maneuvered in a particular rhythm, a pattern, a ritual, a routine, something more than the biting influence of the world outside, than the itch underneath his skin, than the notions of what was to come biting at his Machiavellian mind. Before long he’d assembled the distinct silver of a chest plate too, adding it to the gathered metal, without his usual symbolic traces or distinctions of ownership – it currently belonged to no one, and remained plain, unadorned.
Zuriel glanced upwards, alerting him to another’s presence – but the Sword was acutely attuned to everything going on around him now, a predator’s expanse, a raptor’s predilection, an inclination of warriors and those who had lived through battlefield after battlefield, enemies on the outskirts and boundaries of the eyes, pressing in and in and in. But as he raised his head, as the other settled themselves upon the free chair, the exuberant, sudden mannerisms and chirp of a greeting, his eyes widened briefly, before flickering back to their normal, slightly narrowed range. Deimos’ brows failed to furrow though, somewhat bemused by Sascha’s existence again – he hadn’t expected the healer of all people.
“Sascha,” he acknowledged, nodding his head before finishing up on a contortion of iron. He hadn’t glimpsed upon the healer in a while, not since they’d trained; wherein Sascha defended and cheered and granted some of the more excitable nuances he’d ever witnessed from fledgling soldiers. But these moments called for calm, for composure, not the brandished, bristling maneuvers settling beneath his flesh and bone. “What have you been up to?” A portion of it was genuine curiosity, the fathoms of his stare settling on the other man, his attention segmented on the carpenter now, instead of everything else fraying and tightening on their ends. Had he enhanced his healing abilities? Had he gone to the Infirmary, intending to heighten, strengthen, his capabilities? Had he attempted to hone anymore brutalizing or defensive tactics?
10-18-2019, 12:40 AM (This post was last modified: 10-18-2019, 12:41 AM by Sascha.)
Sascha undiscretly eyed what Deimos was up to as he carefully, like it was made of glass, prodded the metal in front of him to make sure it didn't break (xD) before respectfully stopping that action. It was without doubt beautiful work which yeilded alot of questions within Saschas mind med if he did what he always did and took the piece to examine it closer Deimos might get annoyed and THAT he did not want. However Sascha lit up completely over that Deimos remembered his name which almost made the aura in the entire building feel like a not so gloom place anymore. It was something with this little healer that could make the darkest of places a bit more mangeble, maybe it was that naive little optinism within him or the constant cheerfulness but whatever it was it tended to spread like a wildfire most of the times. Then again; when Sascha ran in to someone he knew he couldn't feel more then happiness after all.
As the question about what he had been up to came towards him it did not darken his mood as it very easily could have done. Instead he lit up (if possible) even more. Why? Well.. most people looked back at the bad events with well earned negativity but Sascha instead just focused on that he now had defeated said bad event and was on his way to health again. So instead of remembering the bad he choose to remember that he had beaten it = happiness. "Well i have been very ill for quite some time so sadly i haven't been doing much of anything. But now i already feel 110% better and are ready for whatever comes next! What have you been up to? Met any interessting people? Learnt a new skill? I wanna know everything!" Yes the cheerfullness in the young mans voice actually made the closest people look over to their direction with surprise in their faces. Who the hell could stay positive during days like these after all?
SASCHA
"The greatest glory in living lies not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall."
Sascha’s curious scrutiny wasn’t unwelcome; silent, quiet amusement loitering through his reticence as the younger individual poked and prodded the metal. He arched a brow, surveying the rest of his actions and movements, buoyant, exuberant, and ebullient, despite all the ghosts, wraiths, monsters, and mayhem lurking beyond the corridors. Perhaps it was the unknown that ensured Sascha remained unphased by the potential devastation, ruin, and annihilation, the press of tangible abhorrence and demolition along the hazes of the outside. The Sword would take the distraction as it was, a deterrent, an amusement, away from the pending pitfalls and oblivion restlessly toying and entangling along doors, windows, and apertures.
The notions of Sascha’s actions were intriguing, enough to make him tilt his head in examination and perusal; the mention of the sickness coiling over his form. “Did you have the blight?” Had he been the same as all the others, savage and bestial, unfurling, wreaking and coiling havoc upon others? It was difficult for Deimos to surmise or imagine the healer taken into pestilence’s grasp and completely, wholly ensnared by its ministrations, courageous hearts overshadowed, overwhelmed, by the torrential disease. Perhaps that was why they hadn’t seen him – maybe he’d drifted away, away, away, far from everyone and everything, keeping some portions of the world safe from blighted anarchy. He’d recovered though, same as the others, either due to their combined efforts or luck out of the misfortune.
The cheer still pulsed though, causing the warrior to snort. “I have a new rank. General.” Of a two person militia, himself included. It might not have been anything noteworthy, had it not been the funneling and channeling of another time, another place, where he’d accepted the title proudly, where he’d led armies into slaughter and mayhem. “And gained Attuned abilities.” That one was more prominent and something to behold; feathers, fur, fangs, talons, devastating power and speed. “What about yourself?”
10-18-2019, 11:59 PM (This post was last modified: 10-19-2019, 04:41 AM by Sascha.)
SASCHA
Many things could be said about Sascha but mean and vindictive wasn't really in the vocabulary concerning him but that was just how he had felt like he was during the sickness he had to endure. So indeed Deimos was right in his thinking; Sascha had locked himself away with his mizerable self to avoid being (using his terms) mean towards others. And to be honest Deimos was right in the other thing as well; Sascha had yet to learn how dangerous these times really could be. Sure he had heard the warnings and listened to the plead to stay inside here until it was safe to leave but that's just that for Sascha; words. He couldn't really understand it all until he came in ontact with it which, if the stories was true, he hoped he never had to experience. To be honest he didn't even had heard the name of that horrible illness that had plagued him until now since he been locked away.
So as the word 'blight' reached him he simply blinked slightly surprised over hearing the name of it. Kinda made him look a bit like a confused kitten or something harmless like that. "Oh that's what it was called? Interesting.. I noticed i started to get very rude for no reason at all so i decided to lock myself in my home til it had passed enough. I even bumped into a lady and didn't have the manners enough to apologize.. it was horrible.. So that made me lock myself away until my faul mood passed.." One could truly see how ashamed he was over such a small thing; salmost heartbreaking in a way seeing how bad he felt over not excusing hiself after simply just bumping into a lady on the street. What did such a thing really say about the healer? With a slight sigh he forced himself into a better mood again and one could see the transformation from the shame and sadness into that contagious joy again. Despite them being where they were now.
"But! Im truly glad its over now and i don't have to be such an asshat constantly anymore. Time to get back into action! Eat delicious foods, drink delicious beverage and get back into work!" He lifted his arms up in a triumph motion with that cheerful grin all over his face as he started to listen to the news about his friend and trainer Deimos. As he told him about his new titel one could see the happiness spreading from the point also called Sascha and it did not lessen as Deimos continued telling him about his new found abilities. "That's AMAZING! Congratulations! Wow.. it truly goes quickly around here when you are off being ill. You like all this? Whats your favorite parts?" Sascha asked without even thinking about eactly what a General needed to do and therefore overlooked the brutal parts of his new profession, of course, he is Sascha. Sascha who just had held a sword one single time since he came here; when training with Deimos. He kinda stuck to creating stuff rather then tearing stuff down after all.
As the question had landed on Sascha he did actually shrug a bit since he really hadn't done anything interessting at all but got his thinker face on to see if he could remember anything exciting he had gone through. "Well nothing since the illness hit me really but right before it i helped restoring parts of the city! It was exhausting but very fun and awarding! I slept like a baby for the first time since i ended up here, didnt have any more power to work during nighttime haha"
The Sword couldn’t imagine Sascha as rude, much less dangerous, treacherous, or scathing, scratching claws, talons, and vitriol into the heart of his enemies or his friends. Perhaps he’d been lucky in such regards, noticing the first signs of something off, and staying within his own confines, instead of continuing on like the majority of the blighted had. Deimos’ experiences with the blighted had consisted of planting and hunting, of being stalked like a piece of prey (when he’d always been the predator, the avaricious endeavor); bestial maneuvers he hadn’t enjoyed when it came to seething against those he’d devoted himself too. “Wise of you,” he nodded, the hint of a smile still remaining. The rest hadn’t been so lucky, the hints and inclinations of I’m fine and I’ll recover brandished and lingered in the distinction, carrying on in their regular activities until they simply couldn’t anymore, overcome, overwhelmed, no longer themselves, but demonic, fiendish counterparts.
At the next set of words extended by the healer, notions of delicious foods and beverages, getting back to work, the great beast shook his head and extended a chuckle. At least Sascha had found a way to combat the melancholy, brooding voids (which Deimos always fell into, out of habit and routine), still full of spirit in the enclosed sanctions, while the General thought about seething his way into disaster and oblivion.
Things did move quickly around here, maneuvering and motioning at swift speeds and uncanny exploits. The other man’s enthusiasm lightened Deimos’ darker mood, encouraged some expression other than a furrowed brow and reticent features, imploring the depths of a smile when asked his favorite parts. Of being Attuned? Of being General? He lent towards more of the altering and morphing; being in charge of a small militia didn’t quite have the same impact of soaring and blending into the sky. “Thank you,” for the congratulations. And for the preferences? “Flying.” He mentioned with the inklings of a grin – the liberation and freedom, the deliverance and providence.
As far as Sascha’s comings and goings when not plagued by sickness, it sounded like a simple restoration of his health had been in order. “We may need your healing prowess soon enough.” The monolith gestured towards the door, eventually to be opened, for monsters to slip inside, for wounded to be limping in with feral interludes and the ignorant expanse. Sascha might find himself incredibly busy in the coming days.
