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!
11-06-2019, 07:49 PM (This post was last modified: 11-06-2019, 07:54 PM by Clemente.)
Clemente
the difference between a garden
and a graveyard
is what we choose to put in the soil
Clem has decided LongNight is prejudiced. He's not really sure if it can be considering it's like seasonal or whatever but he's adamant that it is. Why? Because there's no damn sun, and the Ascended can't even go out and enjoy it. As if he needed more reasons to despise the monsters that had hurt Rexanna and Bastien. It's still frustrating to be stuck indoors during the daytime, especially when he can't even sleep to pass the hours.
Which is how he finds himself here, slinking around in the early hours of darkness to slip into the Atheneum for the day. He hasn't told Rexanna where he's going to be or why, too ashamed of the answer and the sympathy (pity) that be would receive in response.
Because Clem is sitting at a table in the shadows away from the daylight, oil lamp flickering golden light across old pages, one hand tangled and tugging in frustration at his hair as the pointer finger on his other hand underlines unfamiliar words. He sounds out the smaller ones in uncertain mumbles, writes down the letters he doesn't recognize (of which there are many), but he's making minimal progress. Frustration brings tears that Clem stubbornly holds back, fangs biting onto his lower lip as he fights through the feelings of unfairness.
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
Amun had visited the Atheneum once before, to find the shrine where he could pray to The Voice. Normally, he’d have thought that was the only reason he would go to what was essentially a library. The potter preferred to get his information from people, both because they revealed a lot more than they intended to and because that meant he didn’t have to do the work himself.
However, some information he needed to dig up himself. That included information on anything pertaining The Voice, portals, and the lands beyond the Hollowed Grounds and the Greatwood. He was banned from the Greatwood, which was shitty enough. Which meant he was also basically stuck in the Hollowed Grounds, at least until someone figured out how to get the Fae to stop sucking. Probably wouldn’t be him: he’d done nothing in that meeting between Wessex and the Fae chief.
Well, maybe he could make up for it and show some initiative. Unfortunately, his careful perusal of the stacks yielded him nothing. Well, careful perusal was a funny way of saying ‘wandering around hoping something would catch his eye’ but hey, it sometimes worked. Not today though, so he wandered back into the main area.
Where a by-now familiar figure caught his eye. He sauntered up to where Clem was reading. ”Hey swift. You know we don’t need the lamp, right?” Night vision had its perks. The potter grabbed a nearby chair and spun it around, straddling it and leaning his arms across the top. ”Whatcha reading?” He craned his neck to see what the boy was looking at, but it didn’t seem that important. Certainly not important enough to be marked up.
Normally, Clemente would not be so foolish as to ignore his surroundings. If not out of habit, then definitely because of the rising tensions since LongNight had ended. In the Atheneum, every passing footstep echoes softly, and in some place in his mind the boy registers the approach of someone new. He still jolts a little when the chair on the other end of the table is pulled free and re-settled with a clack of noise, eyes lifting from the page and swimming a little with drying tears as they refocus on -
Ah. Amun.
Clem gives a little quirk of his lips in greeting. He doesn't mind the man so much anymore, finds him more amusing than anything after Rexanna's assurances that his teasing was harmless. He likes to think they handle each other a little better since LongNight, though they'll probably always be a little teasingly antagonistic towards each other. Clem doesn't mind - it makes him think Amun is closer to an older brother, one he'd never had.
"Yeah, but it makes people overlook me as an Ascended," he points out, sticking his tongue out with squinted eyes, a little smirk playing on his mouth. Clem has the art of disappearing into the background down to a science. Making himself seem like a normal child in the library? Cake. He hesitates a little at the next question, self-consciousness suddenly crashing back down onto him oppressively. Head ducking, he mumbles softly. "I'm trynna teach m'self to read." He needs to be as useful to Wessex and the Ascended family as he can, and reading is one of the first things he can do. How else will he read the notice board? Flaxen eyes dart up to stare at Amun from under his fringe, shoulders hiking up defensively, prepared to snap and defend himself at the first sign of mockery.
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
The boy’s comment was surprising, and Amun gave him a cheerful grin. ”What people? The only ones out are us, swift.” Indeed, the potter made a big show of looking around, trying to spot some hidden intruder, before returning his gaze to Clem. ”It’s unusual enough to find someone reading here, alone, in the middle of the night.” Amun’s voice had lost a little bit of the easy-going edge, though mischief still lurked in his eyes.
When the boy explained that he couldn’t read, the potter smirked, though not unkindly. ”Have you thought about finding yourself a teacher?” Instead of mocking, his tone was almost kind, if a bit teasing. Now that Amun knew what the problem was, he looked back over the pages before Clem, noting that the boy was marking down the harder words. At least the research project made sense.
"Fer now," he concedes, though his eyes are bright with amusement. He had chosen the darkened corner intentionally, so that he could stay during the daylight hours if he wanted. Inability to sleep was probably his least favorite part about Ascending. It made the hours seem endless, eternal, empty. But it gives him time to read, to learn, to try. "Like ya said, nobody here except us. Early risers I can tell 'em I couldn't sleep, late visitors that I lost track'a time." Clem is aware it's a risk regardless, but he hadn't gone into it totally blind. Had deduced that - regardless of his sunlight resistance - this was the optimum time to avoid others in the library.
So much for that plan.
Not that Clem minds Amun much anymore, emphasized by the lack of instinctive offense that would have normally been taken at the suggestion. Shrugging a little he glances back down at the book, runs a nerveless finger against the edges of the paper. "Rex can't read right now, and Bas is takin' care of her. Got his guild and stuff too. Wessex is a queen so...didn't know who else t'ask." Lifting his gaze Clem squints a little at Amun, tilting his head slightly. "You know anyone?" He's reluctant to let anyone else know about this particular matter, but he finds he trusts Amun's recommendation.
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
Amun gave Clem an approving grin. ”Smart thinking, swift. Though you could probably just take the books you needed or wanted with you.” Shrugging the potter drummed a beat on the desk with his palms for a brief moment. Then he crossed his arm on top of his chair and rest his chin there. "Honestly, I don't think anyone cares if you come in here. It's open to the public. Free knowledge and all that." His words came out more than a bit gleefully, and his eyes practically gleamed at the word free.
Letting out a chuckle, the sound dark and low, Amun smirked at the boy. "Well, let's see. There's that redheaded Ascended bloke." Then the potter gave his most winning smile. "Or, you know, me." Reaching out, he spun one of the books that Clem wasn't actively reading around and flipped it to a random page.
Clem stares at Amun for a long moment, blue-screening behind the eyes. Which is probably something The Voice lets them do, who knows. "You can take the books? But...isn't that like, stealing?" Clemente had never had a steady address or an adult to sign off on a library card, so they had firmly stayed inside the library doors. A fact that had been stressed to him multiple times by sharp-eyed asshole librarians who looked down on his ratty clothes, aware he was only there for the warmth and the free internet. Though he tilts his head, birdlike, and stares around at the books towering around them. "Huh. I mean, kinda gotta be able t'read before it's free knowledge, but yeah!" Ah, and the eager grin is back, matching Amun's though for entirely different reasons.
Clem's nose wrinkles sharply at the mention of Sam, immediately disrupting his smile. "Nah, he's the reason Rex lost her eyes. Plus he's like, super wimpy. I dunno." His eyes flicker away, suddenly uncomfortable, not wanting to bad talk another Ascended when The Voice wants them to draw together so badly. But Clemente loves Rexanna, and he had been devastated when he had found out not only how close she had been to death, but that she had lost her eyes. She had told him they'd be returned eventually, but even that isn't enough to ease his hatred towards Sam. He's a pretty decisive kid, at least. Though he brightens immediately again when Amun spins the book around, loudly hopping his hair closer and bending towards the book. "Yeah! You'd be a way cooler teacher!" He hesitates, squinting his eyes at Amun as if suddenly questioning his own enthusiasm. "Like, kinda." Then he immediately jabs his finger at one sentence he'd been struggling with, particularly underlining the word 'lichen'. He'd just kinda grabbed the first book with pictures, which had ended up being on plants. "What the hell kinda noise does c and h make? Like uhh chocolate?" At least he knows how that word starts. Even poor he'd still been a kid.
11-22-2019, 03:23 PM (This post was last modified: 11-22-2019, 03:24 PM by Amun.)
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
Amun chuckled, the sound dark and low. ”You can take the books, swift. You're probably supposed to bring them back, but look at this place." Gesturing at the stacks behind him, the potter grinned wickedly. "They left the doors open, and there are no librarians here. No one would notice if a few went missing." Winking at Clem, Amun found himself reaching forward to pluck one of the scrolls and tuck it up his sleeve.
Tilting his head, he smirked at the boy's words. "What do you mean, he's the reason? And why do you say he's wimpy?" There was a mischievous light in the potter's eyes. Then, though, it softened. "Don't worry about Rex. She's tough, and has a plan to get new eyes." Grinning, the potter winked at Clem again. "I will be, swift, but you don't need to butter me up."
Leaning forward, Amun's eyes narrowed as he peered at the word. "Lai-kin. And yes, usually cee aitch is pronounced with a k sound, like chocolate or chicken, though there are exceptions. Like niche. En ai cee aitch ee. Niche." Waggling his eyebrows, the potter pointed back to the book. "What else?"
Clem stares at Amun like he's just given him the secret to the universe, flaxen eyes practically bugging out of his head with delight. "That changes everything," he admits, something dark and excited in his tone. Clemente is no stranger to stealing, but churches and libraries had always been off limits. It's not precisely stealing if Amun is correct, but the idea of having these tomes and scrolls to examine in the comfort of his own bedroom is intoxicating.
The eagerness twists into a childish scrunch of his face. Rexanna hadn't told him much when he'd freaked out - to put it mildly - over her injuries. But from his conversation with Bastien in the Infirmary and what she'd told him, he has drawn his own (potentially inflated) conclusions. "He wanted them to all go outside even though there were monsters, and Rex got really hurt. They didn't even get whatever they wanted!" The injustice makes him glare at the table, wishing he was older, stronger, any number of other things. If he'd been there as a target maybe Rexanna wouldn't have been so badly hurt. "'s stupid. He sucks." Plain and simple. Clem has never met Sam directly, but he vows that any ginger haired dude is getting punched right in the balls when he meets them. Surely there can't be that many, and he's willing to make a mistake in determining his target.
Reading is a good distraction, and having someone who can even just clarify his questions instead of speaking them into empty air is helpful. Not that it's a perfect system when it's revealed that the same pairing of letters makes entirely different sounds. "Well that's bullshit," he says automatically, before wincing at himself. No point in scaring off his teacher ten seconds into the lesson. "So uh...three sounds then?" In shaky script he writes it down in his notes - tch, keh, shh. Whatever, it helps him and that's all that matters. At least he knows the alphabet, and Amun spelling it out certainly helps. Eagerly pointing to another word - said - he stares up at Amun waiting for the pronunciation. "What does the i do? Cuz it sounds like sad when I say it but it ain't."
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
Amun grinned, pleased to see Clem so excited. ”I have that effect on people, swift.” Winking at the boy, the potter’s smile stayed in place even as Clem’s own happiness disappeared. ”And what was it they wanted?”
As Amun tilted his head, he gave the boy a considering look. ”I’m not saying he’s not a stupid, wimpy, sucky person who deserves your scorn. I’m saying it’s important to get the whole story before we make judgments.” The grin gained a wicked edge. ”Besides, there aren’t enough of us Ascended to fight amongst ourselves. Gotta fight the whole world first.”
Letting out a chuckle at Clem’s words, the potter nodded. ”Total bullshit, swift.” He nodded again at the boy’s question. Then, however, Amun’s eyes narrowed. ”It’s pronounced sed. Es ey ai dee, sed.” Reaching out, he snagged a journal and a writing implement, tilting the page so that Clem could see. ”Ey ai is a tricky one, though.” The potter wrote down the two letters, then circled them. ”Can be pronounced like eh, as in said, ey, as in raid, or aaah as in plaid. Probably a couple other sounds too.” For each word, he wrote it down, then drew a line connecting it to the letters in the circle. All this is assuming Common has a similar alphabet to English, of course.
Clem wrinkles his nose in exaggerated disgust at the comment and wink the potter sends his way. First of all, gross. Even if his fangs poke out the side of his mouth when his lips twitch in betraying amusement. Short-lived though it is. "I mean yeah, logically and whatever, but can't I still punch him in th' junk in private?" Despite his grumbling it's clear his hackles have been smoothed, aware of the truth in Amun's words. Wessex and The Voice both advocate for cohesion, and their words are like gospel to Clemente.
Clem leans over to watch with narrowed eyes as Amun outlines on the paper. The letters themselves are memorized, but the sounds and how they connect still give him trouble. Breadth of vocabulary is still a whole other box of snakes. "Can I keep this when yer done?" Pointing a finger at where Amun has written all of this down. "I jus' wanna be able to write notes and stuff on the notice board. Maybe read better in the future." Already he has learned so much, and Clem eyes the older man, wondering how much he can truly ask for. "Can ya...can ya tell me 'bout The Voice?" A distraction from his current studying, but Rexanna's word is the only one he has to go on. His last visit had been pleasant, a clear presence but no face to face. He dreads the idea of being the only Ascended their creator will not visit.
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
Amun didn’t miss Clem’s amusement. Between that and the boy’s comment, the potter smirked. ”I mean, you could, swift. But considering we don’t feel pain, what exactly would that accomplish?” He grinned, a mischievous light in his eyes. ”Besides being quite satisfying.”
Shrugging, he passed the page over to Clem. ”Sure. I don’t need it.” Chuckling at the boy’s aspirations, Amun winked. ”I think that can be arranged.” There was maybe a little bit of gentle ribbing in his voice, but nothing too bad.
Clem’s question caught the potter off guard. His smile faded, slightly as he considered it, though he was still joyous. Finally, he shrugged. ”I can. Is there anything in particular you’d like to know?” Pausing, Amun decided to at least share what he thought. ”She is greatness, and loving, and wants the best for her children, the Ascended. All she asks from us is that we are true to ourselves.” There was no playfulness in the potter’s voice now, just a gentle awe.
12-24-2019, 02:08 AM (This post was last modified: 12-24-2019, 02:08 AM by Clemente.)
Clemente
the difference between a garden
and a graveyard
is what we choose to put in the soil
Clem levels a pointed state at Amun, working to keep his lips from twitching. Damn it he's so good at making Clem feel better, which is weird for the pint-sized pervert. "Exactly. It's all 'bout makin' me feel better." Forgiveness isn't a trait he ever really learned, couldn't afford to. Everything fell under one-and-done. Betrayal and stupidity were things that could gete you killed, that nearly killed Rexanna as it was, and even forgiving because The Voice wants them as a cohesive family seems hard. Dick-punching would go a long way to jump-starting his forgiveness though.
Squirreling away the paper, Clem turns his attention to hang on Amun's every word, and if he were in need of breath he'd scarcely be indulging in it. He wants to meet her so badly, to feel this love and acceptance firsthand. "I wanna meet her so bad," he admits softly. "I tried but she was busy. I just...I just wanna know what I can do for her. I wanna help, but 'm just a kid y'know? Did she even mean to make me? What do you think?" It's similar to the worries that had prompted him around Wessex last time, when he'd vowed to be her eyes and ears. But is that enough? It feels like he's not doing enough to thank The Voice for everything she has given him.
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
Amun couldn't help but chuckle at Clem's bloodthirsty response. "Well. Tell you what. Why don't we try to find more productive ways to make you feel better." The potter smirked. "All else fails, I'll hold his arms while you punch him as hard as you can, swift." There was a gleefully cheerful tone in his voice. "Sound like a deal?" He held out his palm for Clem to shake.
At the need for approval in the boy's voice, the potter grinned. "Trust me, she knows. She's with us, always, even when she can't give us as much attention as she'd like." For once, his voice was light, and without teasing. "I know she meant to make you. She meant to make each and every one of us. And I, or any of the other Ascended, would be happy to take you to a shrine to meet her, if she won't answer you on your own."
The potter pointed back at the page. "As for helping her, learn. Listen. Find out what you can of this world, explore it. And when we've done that, she'll open the gates to all of us." There was a great deal of enthusiasm in Amun's voice, and reverence in his eyes.
