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!
Oia'i'o really seemed very insistent he explain every possible angle of his aversion to the sun. With a sigh, Bastien continued to oblige (he was, if nothing else, generally friendly): "Perhaps it is. But I do not think The Voice gives 'social experiments' for no reason. Besides, inside I have my paintings, my wife, books to read, wine to drink. There is little need for anything else."
Despite their reluctance it seemed like they both would come in after all, though he could see the hesitation in Oia'i'o's steps. That is, until she caught eyes on Pittore. While the way she edged around him as if he would attack stung a little, he was happy to see the girl (for really that was what she felt like, a child) so excited about something.
"His name is Pittore." He said out into the room, leaning against the wall as he watched his little green art assistant turn to look at the two twins, yarn dragging along the floor as he turned. Then with a wide smile he ran over to them, excitedly holding out the yarn to them both and babbling in his own little language, squeaks and 'bop's running over each other with an enthusiasm to match Oia'i'o's and Kai's.
“But you only think that.” You point out, before venturing deeper into the house. However as Pittore turns towards you, you entirely lose the plot so to speak, and dissolve in the presence of the gremlin.
You’ve never seen one before after all. You’ve heard of them of course; creatures of rumour and stories, but it’s absolutely amazing to see one up close. You note it’s large eyes, teh dexterous hands, the sharp teeth. Mostly though, you notice the yarn. ”Don’t tangle it.” You warn as if this is simply common sense, before reaching out your fingers to try and unknot the bright yarn that is trailing behind the creature. After a moment you chirp something unintelligible (but kind sounding) towards the creature, and pull out your notebook. With that in hand you begin to sketch and take notes, chirruping every now and then at Pittore to try and get its attention to draw a new angle or record a new pose.
The gremlin - Pittore - is astoundingly cute, almost like a tiny person with green skin and sharp teeth and huge ears and eyes and okay, maybe not like a person really that much. But it's so much different than you expected an animal made by the Voice to be, so much more alive, and really you find yourself adoring it despite its questionable origins, utterly entranced by the little green thing and its yarn.
"Watcha doin' with that?" you ask it, fully confident it can understand (and wondering vaguely if you will be able to establish a non-verbal communication system). "Are you makin' something? Do you make things? What kinda things d'ya eat? Are you like an Ascended an' eat blood or do y'eat other foods? The teeth look carnivorous. How'd y'meet him?"
This last question is addressed back at Bastien, your brown eyes wide as you look up from the floor where you still sit, fully at the mercy of the little companion and whatever games it might choose to play.
"And you only think everything you think too. You only think you won't burn up when you step into the sun, but whos to say what might happen next time?" Bastien pointed out.
Though it seemed Pittore had fully taken all attention away from Bastien. Clearly revelling in the spotlight, he happily chirped back to Kaimana, though nothing recognisable as words, more mirror sounds. As Oia reached to untangle his yarn though, Pittore frowned and tried to pull it from her, making a louder angrier squeak. The yarn was exactly how he liked it, thank you very much.
At least Bastien had not been entirely shut out of the conversation. Looking to the back of the room, he pointed to the corner where Pittore had been found. "After Longnight I returned to my guildhall to find him asleep in a pile of canvases over there, having made rather a mess. ...Speaking of the canvases, would you like me to speak you through the art here...?" He asked, desperate to speak about the paintings and not his companion.
“No. I have data and evidence for what I think.” You disagree with a sharp shake of your head. ”Ah! An interesting point. Many argue that in fact there is no reason to think that the future will resemble the past, no matter how many instances of consistency we see in the world. It could be that physics will suddenly depart and that I will indeed burst into flames the next time I am in the sun. However all available evidence indicates that this is not the case and thus I act accordingly.”
You trill back under your breath at Pittore as the gremlin recoils from you. Still, you nod obligingly and scribble a few notes and even draw a rough outline of the creature and some of its more noticeable characteristics. “You haven’t answered Kai’s questions.” You point out to the creature, as if it needed reminding (rather than a translator).
Glancing over your shoulder as Bastien mentions the paintings, you immediately shake your head. You don’t really care about art, and you care even less about it when you instead have the chance to study a new species. “No.”
Smiling broadly at the creature's angry chittering, you turn to Oia with a patient look. "It's rude to take things before you have permission," you point out informatively, the social custom stated simply for your twin's enlightenment. Turning back to Pittore, you shake your head gently at the little creature. "It's also rude to ignore a question." You wonder just how sentient it is, and how much it can understand. Does it know or care about social norms, or is it more an animal in that way?
Truth be told you aren't particularly interested in the paintings, either, but you pick up a little bit of desperation in Bastien's voice and decide to indulge his interests. This is what you were sent to do, anyway: observe the people in their natural habitats, seeing how they've adapted to their situation.
Leaving Oia to entertain the gremlin, you rise to your feet and walk toward the tall artist. "You can tell me about 'em," you announce cheerfully, your eyes darting between the canvases that hang upon the wall. "An' why you made 'em. An' what they represent, an' what purpose they serve, an' why it's so important to you."
"Perhaps I simply like staying inside." Bastien put forward to Oia, now a little tired of debating whether or not the sun was dangerous. She clearly did not have much experience of the Ascended (or, well, nuance) and it was becoming obvious that arguing with her was a lost cause.
Pittore clutched possessively onto his wool, only frowning as Oia and Kaimana both told him off for not answering questions. With a loud defiant squeak he sat down, little eyebrows knitted together in frustration. "Ah." Said Bastien. "I believed he has answered your questions. You simply did not understand the answers...and he's rather irritated you suggested his wool was not lovely as it is."
At least Kaimana wanted to hear about his paintings. With a smile he looked over to the wall, gesturing to each painting on it. "This is not only my work, you see. This collection here is the work of many different people in our town. Melita painted that --" He pointed to a painting of a sun over a desert, an oasis pool shining in the light. "--I like to gather people who have not had much of a chance to explore creative expression before and show them how freeing it can be. The purpose is to give the people here an outlet and to collect a catalogue of work. To see what the artistic vision of the town is...what they believe, what they want to see. You can tell a lot from a painting."
"How lovely do you think it is?" You ask immediately, pen raised. "Be as specific as you can." This you say as if you've suddenly developed a keen ear for the squeaks of a Gremlin, looking for all the world as if you really are going to record his answer.
For the most part you tune out what Bastien is saying, finding absolutely nothing of interest or worth in his mini-lesson on artistic expression. Like Bastien you think that arguing with him is pointless, and are much more focused on what Pittore is doing. Indeed you try to replicate the sounds that the gremlin is making, pointing to various objects to see if the Gremlin will name them, and doing your utmost to recreate the sounds despite having very different vocal folds and chords.
"Oh! I met Melita!" you exclaim happily because what are timelines, scooting forward to look more closely at the sunbeam's painting.
As Bastien drones on and Oia watches the gremlin you tilt your head, enraptured by the art, the sunlight on the water. Strangely, you agree with the artist's sentiment: you can learn a lot about people from their art. This one, for instance, is full of impatient strokes, less concrete image than abstract representation. It's emotional, you think, and honest, and very much her.
"Is this where she's from?" you wonder aloud, turning back to Bastien, blissfully unaware of the blush creeping up your cheeks, the slightly-more-than-normal earnestness in your eyes.
In lieu of a response, Pittore threw the yarn up in the air then tried his best to roll and catch it with his feet in time, just about succeeding with only a little of it falling into his face. The series of squeaks that followed this seemed like unrelated excitement, but Oia could likely tell that he thought it was very lovely indeed.
Bastien seemed to have interested Kai with something, though predictably it was not his collection of art. With a small, knowing smirk on his face he nodded. "Yes. She told me quite a lot about it, as she painted it; you know she is considering joining this guild?" He'd not even thought about recruiting when the twins had entered, but he'd suddenly seen a most potent opportunity. "If you were to join as well, you might be able to paint with her, next time she creates such an image. Learn more about it as it is being made. And of course, create your own."
You too know Melita and over your shoulder you say, "Are there dragons in it? There are dragons where she's from." before you turn back to Pittore.
"Do you want to see a trick?" You ask the Gremlin, hoping that he will agree. Holding out a hand for the yarn, if he gives it to you, you will clearly mime that you are going to toss it into the air. "Get ready to catch it." You say, and toss it up just as he did. Before it can fall however, you point at it. "Freeze." You command, and to the surprise of no one, it does. Waiting until the Gremlin is in place to catch it, you release your hold on the magic.
Well that's not the worst idea in the world, though something about the idea of painting alongside Melita brings an odd heat to your skin. Instead of commenting on it, you fidget, turning back to the art. "I would like to paint sometime." Creativity is one of your strong suits, after all
But you've been here a while and you have some things to think about and you're ready to head back outside. "I'm gonna go see what else is happenin' in the market," you announce brightly, turning to head toward the door. "Thank you! I'll come painting sometime!"
Then you slip away into the sun, expecting your sister to follow.
