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!
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
Amun had somehow managed to find himself the leader of a small group of Ascended. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have minded, would have taken to the role of leader like a fish to water. However, these were hardly normal circumstances: he was down a hand, they were in the shithole land that was Halo, and he was in charge of guiding two people who were probably even more inexperienced than he (if such a thing were possible) in a task that was potentially going to get them in trouble.
So, given the circumstances, and given his recent woes, he wasn’t the grinning happy-go-lucky potter. Instead, he had a serious expression on his face and a bulging pack on his back. Looped to the pack were two pickaxes and his shield, and in the pack was everything he could think of to help build the altar. That included paint, some paintbrushes (including one very special one), and a chisel for carving wood and stone, along with some wood and a few other odds and ends. Thankfully, he’d already dropped off the meat at the guards, and he didn’t feel pain, so the burden wasn’t too much for him.
He led Bastien and Nate higher and higher up into the Fangs. ”Keep your eyes peeled for a suitable spot.” Following that order, Amun also scanned the mountains for somewhere hidden, while keeping an eye out for predators of both the human and the animal variety.
This is an Ascended-only PQ. There are two spots, and they’ve been filled.
01-08-2020, 10:47 PM (This post was last modified: 01-08-2020, 10:49 PM by Bastien.)
BASTIEN
Bastien was intensely thankful for his Ascended dulling of senses when he saw Halo himself for the first time; he had never been in such a cold climate before and not having to feel the bite of the atmosphere on his skin was indeed a blessing. It would allow him to focus more on the task at hand, which was one of the few things he considered important enough he was willing to leave the comfort of Sanctuary.
"I presume we are looking for somewhere flat, with a good view." He said, climbing behind Amun with a few paces between them, turning his head either way to try and see something worth stopping for. "Though with all this damn snow...it's hard to tell." Wherever they ended up building the shrine, he was sure it was going to get covered almost immediately anyway.
Some people can't get success with their art
Some people never feel love in their heart
Some people can't tell the two things apart
But I keep rollin' on
so you say you want a deathbed scene, the knowledge that comes
before knowledge
and you want it dirty
It was far too soon to be back in Halo again. The ice and snow hasn’t changed a bit, it was just as cold and desolate as it had been last time, and absence had not made his heart grow fonder. At least he was more prepared this time, forgoing unnecessary bulky clothes in favour of something lighter, and making up for the lost weight with more supplies.
Nate was bringing up the rear, his gaze roving around in search of both a spot, and any dangers. ”If the snows the problem, wouldn’t we just look for somewhere with some cover?” He drawls, focusing on the back of the other ascendeds head. It seemed the obvious solution to him after all. ”And is the view really that important?”
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
Amun continued hiking through the snow. The drifts grew increasingly deep as they climbed higher and higher into the mountain peaks, until it was almost knee-deep. ”Nate’s right. We didn't exactly get permission to set up this shrine. So let's find somewhere hidden. We can make it pretty, but it should be out of sight." His words were pitched just loud enough to be heard over the wind that howled in these peaks.
A light snow flurry kicked up, obscuring the view even further. Bastien and the potter would be entirely unsuccessful in spotting anywhere suitable. Nate's seemingly sharp eyes, however, would spot a slight hint of darkness half-buried under the cover of snow. He brought it to the attention of his fellow Ascended, and they headed over. Clearing the snow would reveal a tunnel, hidden from view by some quirk of the snow and the stone and the shadows unless someone was looking for it.
Walking further in, they'd turn a corner so that it would take more than a casual glance to reveal an altar. Amun shrugged off his pack pack. Sliding one pickaxe into his prosthetic, he hefted the other in his left hand. "Alright. This seems good. Nate and I can get some stone to make the actual altar. Bastien, you work on decorations. I've got some supplies in my pack." With that, Amun handed Nate the second pickaxe.
Then Amun would go off to start mining some stone. He wanted to make chunks large enough that they could make a suitable platform or table or whatever they ended up being able to do with the resources at hand.
"Hidden? A shame...but perhaps it can be like a secret jewel, waiting to be found." Bastien could imagine it now, a cave leading down to a shrine glowing with their Goddesses light. With the right bit of flair, the kind of touch he could add, it could be beautiful. A fitting tribute to their Mother and the family, how dedicated they had been to exploring this land.
A hand up over his eyes to try and stop the snow flying into them, he trudged behind Amun, having to fantasise about the beauty of their eventual shrine to keep himself from getting too grumpy. As they arrived at the tunnel he breathed a sigh of relief and lowered the hand, brushed the snow off his shoulders. "Decorations I can do."
Taking some brushes and paint and choosing a white to put down a base coat over the stone, Bastien choose a wide brush to begin painting over the walls surrounding the shrine space. His plan was to clear the space then fill it in with intricate designs depicting the Voice and her followers, hoping to use the special moving paint he had received for his guild to make the inscriptions appear to float about and change.
Some people can't get success with their art
Some people never feel love in their heart
Some people can't tell the two things apart
But I keep rollin' on
so you say you want a deathbed scene, the knowledge that comes
before knowledge
and you want it dirty
It was a miracle that he’d been able to see anything through the blowing snow, and even more of one when the hollow he’d spotted turned out to be a perfect spot, sheltered and secret. The perfect place for a shrine. Nate was less than impressed to be voluntold to gather stone, though it did suit him better than decorating.
Hefting the pickaxe up, Nate began to loose pieces from the wall, the work almost tedious in its simplicity. He found himself casting sidelong glances at Amun, a question hovering in the curve of his lips before he loosed it. ”What happened to your hand?” Usually, he’d have more tact, but tact didn’t always make for interesting stories.
01-13-2020, 02:28 PM (This post was last modified: 01-13-2020, 03:11 PM by Amun.)
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
Everyone went off to their tasks without complaint, for which Amun was quite grateful. Unfortunately, perhaps because of his injury, perhaps because of his lack of skill, or perhaps because of sheer, dumb, bad luck, he was unsuccessful in chiseling out a piece of stone for the actual altar.
Thankfully, both Nate and Bastien would have an easier time with their tasks. The basic white coating went down smoothly, a bare canvas practically begging for more intricate designs to be place on top of it. Nate's mining would separate out a chunk of rock large enough to use as the top of the altar, though they still needed two pieces to be used as the base.
Nate's question caught the potter off guard. "It got completely crushed. It soon became apparent that it wasn't healing, so I had it cut off and a prosthetic made." Amun's voice came out quietly, and as bluntly as Nate's. There might have been the barest hint of bitterness in it as well. With that, the potter swung his pickaxe again, perhaps with a little more force than was necessary.
Amun failed to extract rocks for the altar
Bastien succeeded at putting down his white paint
Nate succeeded at extracting a rock slab for the top of the altar
Once his first layer of paint was down and tacky to the touch (he could not hope for bone-dry, not in this climate), Bastien selected a blue colour to begin to add in designs; first he wrote out a prayer he had invented to the Voice on the wall; simple words but ones he hoped might help those that prayed there:
Mother of the Light, may you remain as a spirit of wisdom within my heart.
Be present for me now and in every moment of eternity.
Take my hand and lead me to the glowing truths within me,
for there shall I find my purpose in life revealed.
From these words he added in complex patterns, ones he had learnt from his mothers dresses as a child, from the textiles of far off lands he had studied in Venice. Starting at one corner he slowly spread these out, until the cave wall was an enticing wave of colours and shapes to be lost in.
Some people can't get success with their art
Some people never feel love in their heart
Some people can't tell the two things apart
But I keep rollin' on
so you say you want a deathbed scene, the knowledge that comes
before knowledge
and you want it dirty
It was more satisfying than he thought it would be to separate a slab off the wall, the long piece thudding to the ground, stopped from falling completely over by Nate’s knee. Good thing he couldn’t feel pain. He moved the piece to the side, and started trying to extract more, to build up the actual structure of the altar. After all, the Amun wasn’t having any luck on his side.
Not that Nate could really blame him, wincing in response to the answer he got. ”Oh. That sucks.” Really, what else could he say to that? He gave it a beat before asking more, glancing over at the Potter to make sure he wasn’t prying too much. Or at least so much the other man would do something about it. ”Did it happen during the festival?”
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
Perhaps the extra force that Amun had employed had been a good idea after all, considering he managed to break off a chunk that would serve well as part of the base of the altar. Unfortunately, Nate, perhaps too focused on the potter's prosthetic, was unable to mine anything usable. For Amun's part, he paused before answering the question. "Yes. It does. And yes, it did. Running into Ronin at the Temple didn't help, I imagine." With that, the potter swung his pickaxe again.
Unfortunately, Bastien's efforts didn't come out exactly as he'd planned. Likely due to the cold, the words came out smudged and nearly illegible, and the designs blurred together. It wasn't awful, but it certainly didn't live up to the head of the Artist's sanctuary's high standards.
Amun succeeds at acquiring more rocks for the altar
Bastien fails at this round of decorations
Nate fails at acquiring more rocks for the altar
After he had been working for a while, stood with his face close to the wall and his eyes squinted as he focused, Bastien stood back...and his expression fell. His paint had begun to smudge and bleed, rendering his work a mess. He allowed himself a moment of annoyance, sighing out an annoyed breath, before putting his hands together and purposefully calming himself.
Being pissed off didn't often help art. Trying to work with what he had, he instead began to add more water to the blurred areas to try and mix it, make a mottled blue and white effect that would instead serve as a background to another prayer he could add later; if he could fix it he thought it might actually look quite fetching. Not quite the crisp aesthetic he'd planned, but still something beautiful nonetheless.
Some people can't get success with their art
Some people never feel love in their heart
Some people can't tell the two things apart
But I keep rollin' on
so you say you want a deathbed scene, the knowledge that comes
before knowledge
and you want it dirty
So his first attempt had been more luck than skill. Nate frowns at the wall, then down at the useless crumble of gravel gathering beneath it. Then he shrugged. It wasn’t like he could be good at everything, and at least he’d gotten something. Amun seemed to be doing better, though it was possible he was just spurred on by his words. Losing a hand didn’t exactly put one in the best of moods, being reminded of it even less so.
”That’s... fuck man.” Nate shook his head, glancing towards Bastiens work just so he had something else to focus on. He spent a moment appeasing... whatever was going on, then focused back on his own mining, deciding to drop the subject and work in silence.
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
The three Ascended worked mostly in silence, except for Nate’s response, the sound of metal hitting stone, and the sound of Bastien’s brush moving across the wall. Unfortunately, Amun's efforts were insufficient this time, failing to secure any suitable rocks. That didn't matter, though, because Nate managed to pry out the last stone they needed for a crude, but working altar.
Bastien's painting would go much more smoothly this time. He managed to turn the mess into the mottled blue and white pattern he'd been striving for. Amun nodded approvingly as he set his pickaxe down. "Let's move these stones into place. It'll probably take all three of us to put the top of the altar on. Nate, can you get the other half of the base?" That being said, the potter carefully lifted the rock for the base he'd carved out. It was heavy, and with his prosthetic unwieldy, but he somehow managed to stumble it into place.
Then he walked over to the big stone and waited for the other two men. Once they were there, he'd tell them to lift on three, and try to carry the top of the altar over.
Amun fails!
Bastien succeeds!
Nate succeeds! They now have all the stone they need to set up the altar.
Completely lost in fixing his work, concentration forced so he wouldn't fail again, Bastien worked silently; if he heard the conversation between Amun and Nate he did not make any moves to contribute. Luckily this seemed to pay off - before long he had rescued the mess into an effective background for his pattern work, adding in the prayer again in the midst of this, careful to wait for the paint to set before moving onto the next portion.
Finished for the moment, he stood back and put his paintbrush back in the pot, going to where Amun had asked them to lift the stone. Kneeling and placing his hands under the slab, he nodded. "Ready when you are." He was not the strongest of men, but he had lifted many ungainly things up and down stairs in his line of work.
Some people can't get success with their art
Some people never feel love in their heart
Some people can't tell the two things apart
But I keep rollin' on
