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!
Your initial overview of the Hollowed Grounds is roughly a third complete now. You haven't managed to delve deeply into any one area yet, preferring first to have a general overview complete before you begin an in-depth study. Also, you are still troubling over beginning this process merely alphabetically. In the back of your mind you're relying on your subconscious to help formulate a more principled method for your second go-round.
Dressed fairly drably not that you mind much, you stand barefoot in the sand-dirt mixture around the ruins with your notebook in hand. You bar yourself from theorizing about what might have once been here until you've recorded all there is to see. You want your notes to be objective and already you can feel yourself wanting to write things like, temple-like in regards to some of the dilapidated buildings and fallen columns.
11-05-2019, 10:23 PM (This post was last modified: 11-05-2019, 10:23 PM by Amun.)
amun
Amun, for once, had an entirely legitimate and important reason to be skulking about. No funny business, sadly: he was scouting out the Hollowed Grounds for the best spot to put his home and/or pottery studio. After the shitshow that was Deepfrost, he wanted to have something fun and beautiful, and a space of his own. Wessex’s house was a nice offer and all, but she probably wouldn’t be too happy if he brought a bunch of lovers through there. Plus, as a fully-fledged member of the Artist’s Sanctuary, he should probably contribute and shit.
Granted, he didn’t know how this would square with the whole ‘go off and explore bright ones’ shtick The Voice was expecting from him, but he was good at wriggling out of the consequences of his actions. Which was why he was strolling down the street, whistling a sea shanty, stopping every now and again to regard a facade.
Eventually, though, a figure that was not at all a building came into focus; the Ascended’s eyes spotted her easily enough and he grinned as he saw her staring at buildings and writing. ”Hello there. Don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting.” He swept into a shallow bow. ”Amun Arlun, at your service.” Trying to peer at the woman’s page, he grinned. ”You surveying the area as well? Maybe we can help each other out.” He waggled his eyebrows. No need for him to work when he could get someone else to do it for him.
You're off somewhere looking at a particularly interesting patch of mushrooms when you hear a voice that is not your sisters ring out in the weird, abandoned space. Without much hesitation or thought to your research (mushrooms tend not to wander off that often; humans cannot be so trusted) you spin around, scrambling barefoot through the sandy ground and leaping over fallen rocks.
"Hullo!" Your voice catches up to them before you do, though not by very much. The new human-animal is not particularly tall, and dark haired, and a little pale, and seems incredibly friendly, a trait you can appreciate. Skidding to a stop beside your sister, you grin up at him, your freckled face and earth-brown eyes bright with curiosity. "Are you doin' research, too?"
On the one hand there was almost no one else around (save for Kai, wherever he'd wandered off to). On the other hand Amun had said nothing to indicate that it was you he was talking to, save for the vague fact that whomever it was, it wasn't someone who he'd had the pleasure of meeting. Which, since you don't know his internal thoughts, you can't actually be sure isn't you. All of that to say, as Amun approached, spoke, and bowed, you simply continued writing.
His offer though made you pause in your writing, and you peer over the page at him with skeptical blue eyes. "How are you at my service?" You ask in your characteristically clinical tone, as Kai skids to a halt by your side. You watch as the Amun bears his teeth grins at you, and then makes his eyebrows move. You aren't one to notice facial gestures, but his dark eyebrows are hard to miss. They look rather like caterpillars. So thinking, you turn to Kai: " His eyebrows look like caterpillars."
Alright, well, the second stranger was obviously of much more interest to the Ascended. However, even Amun, he of the always down for a good time, concluded that this lad was a bit too young. Early twenties was fine. Teens, not so much. Still, the man was as cute as the girl was pretty.
”Whatever you need from me.” The potter winked at her before turning his attention to the other man, who’d finally came to a stop. ”Well, I wouldn’t call it research.” That sounded way too formal and structured for what Amun had been doing. ”Was looking for a suitable spot for my home and my shop.” Or spots: again, the Ascended wasn’t big on planning, so he was just wandering, to see what caught his eye.
When the woman commented on the potter’s eyebrows, they rose again. Then he grinned wickedly at the two youths. ”Hey now scribbler, if you’re gonna talk about me, at least be complimentary.” Indeed, the potter didn’t mind being looked at. He didn’t even mind being touched. However, he knew that he was a fine specimen of manhood (or Ascendedhood, he wasn’t a scientist) and he would not be called anything even close to resembling ugly.
"What makes a spot suitable?" you wonder aloud, as interested on his endeavors as ever. It's an earnest question, too: you have absolutely no concept as to what makes a place suitable for a shop, never having made or worked in one yourself. And you know enough to know that your home, while ideal for you, is not perhaps consistent with what most would consider appropriate.
Oia turns to comment on the caterpillars of his eyebrows, and now you can't unsee it - especially because he goes on to wiggle them again, a bright grin on his face. "What's not complimentary 'bout caterpillars? They're important parts of the ecosystem." Personally you are very fond of caterpillars, and would be delighted to be compared to one. "What would you like us to say 'bout you?"
"Accepted." What Amun doesn't know is that he's just given you full permission to use him in future experiments. His consent rings in your ears as fairly absolute: whatever you need from me. Your mind whirls at the possibilities.
"I am not scribbler." You correct automatically. Just like your twin, you don't see what is or isn't complimentary about the comparison of his eyebrows to such a sophisticated and fascinating creature. "I was not intending to be complimentary." There. That should clear things up.
Obviously that accepted didn’t mean anything to the potter. It just caused him to give the woman a funny look. Before he could respond, though, the strange man was speaking again. If Amun knew what made a spot suitable, he wouldn’t be wandering around the Hollowed Grounds. ”I dunno. Proximity to major roads and other people, amount of work to get set up, aesthetics? I’ll know it when I see it.” There wasn’t really a process here.
”You’re scribbling, aren’t you? Makes you a scribbler.” Seemed simple enough. As the other man continued to ask questions and the woman informed the Ascended that she wasn’t trying to be complimentary grinned. ”People don’t like being compared to bugs, chatty.” And if there was a bit too much fang in the smile, well, too bad. However, there was mostly a mischievous light in Amun’s eyes. ”That I’m good company, in more ways than one.” He winked at the duo, though there wasn’t anything flirtatious about it. Still, habits and all that.
"If scribblin' makes her a scribbler, does lookin' for a suitable spot make you a looker?" Your question is earnest if not a little silly, a playful grin wrapping across your face. A grin that falters as the stranger seems determined to reject your caterpillar comparison, which is entirely perplexing because your love of caterpillars truly knows no bounds.
Before you can comment on good company in more ways than one seeming like an excessively long thing to want to be called, your eyes catch on the fangs. "Fangs!" you hiss to Oia, making no real effort to be subtle, eyes wide as saucers. "'Are you an ascended?"
“That isn’t valid reasoning.” You say of Amun’s “you’re scribbling so you’re a scribbler” fallacy. Further, you let him know that: “Kai likes to be compared to bugs. As do I.” Bugs were incredibly complex and highly specialized creatures. They possess many of the mutations that you wish you had, in fact.
However as your twin points out the fangs your eyes widen too and immediately you flip to a new page in your book and begin to take hasty notes. Looking over the page expectantly you wait for this strange human-animal to either confirm or deny. It’s possible of course that it’s only a partial shift, but given that you are inside the Grounds, there is a much higher chance than you two have ever encountered before, of this man being an ascended.
Amun chuckled at the other man’s comment, though it cut off at the woman’s. Still, he wasn’t bothered in the slightest. ”It sure does.” The Ascended didn’t mind being called a looker, not one bit. It probably wasn’t for the reasons the young man thought, but that was fine. If the other man had been a few years older—and the woman hadn’t been there—the potter might’ve added some quip about the younger man calling Amun whatever the other man wanted. As it stood, he just grinned at the woman’s second comment. ”Well, most people won’t like it like you do, scribbler.”
At their wide-eyed interest at his fangs, his grin widened, letting them get a good look. ”I am an Ascended.” He looked between the two strangers. ”You say that like you’ve never seen fangs before, chatty.” While it came out as a joke, the potter was watching them carefully for their reactions. Generally speaking, people asking if he was an Ascended (unless they were fellow Ascended) tended to end poorly.
You are less than confident in the understanding and cognitive ability of the stranger - sorry, the looker - but you nod along all the same. Though the carried commentary on comparison to critters continues to cause you some level of conundrum, and you crinkle your nose confusedly. "How d'you know they won't?" you ask, part curious, part defensive of your sister's accuracy in her accounts.
The fangs are a perfect distraction, though, and you move forward as he bares them further, peering unabashedly at the sharpened teeth. "We've seen fangs in non-human animals, an' in partial shifts," you correct the Looker absently, still fascinated by this development. "But I've never met an Ascended before."
Drawing back abruptly you straighten up, brown eyes wide with open excitement. "This is great! We can do so much research with you! What happens when you go in the sun? And when you drink blood? D'ya still eat food like other races?"
"So you would include yourself in the category of most people? In this, or in all things?" This has the making of a really good insult, but of course you really are just looking for clarification. You understand generalizations despite how you abhor them, and if this man is going to fall back onto the masses as a way of avoiding criticism than you think you'd probably not really like to study talk to him anymore.
Until the fangs of course.
You nod emphatically along with your twin's account, adding your own list of questions. "What was it like to be ascended? Do you have any..." Quickly you flick through your notes to find the word. "..upgrades? What is it like to try and breathe in? How have your senses been changed? Does everyone here hate you?"
11-08-2019, 03:40 AM (This post was last modified: 11-08-2019, 03:41 AM by Amun.)
amun
The constant back and forth between the two—and the way they played off each other—was a bit hard to keep track of, but Amun was game. He’d start with the man. ”Prior experience with people, chatty.” The potter’s voice came out in a drawl. Then the woman. ”Nah, scribbler, I’m one of a kind.” He flashed her his most brilliant smile.
Then the conversation swung around to his nature as an Ascended, and he chuckled, the sound dark and low. However, he was rapidly losing interest in this conversation. ”So many questions! I think it’s time for a few of my own.” He gave them both a mischievous smile. ”Who are you, what are you hoping to get from this conversation, and why should I answer your questions?” That seemed like a good start. However, he could see that they were incredibly eager to find out more about his kind. Which meant that he had power over them, and he’d be a fool not to exercise it.
Which meant they’d have to wait for answers until he figured out what their game was. Shouldn’t take too long. They seemed a rather guileless lot. If they had even the smallest amount of common sense between them, they wouldn't have referred to him as research and they certainly wouldn't have asked if everyone hated him.
