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!
After his exploration - brief as it had been - in the Underground with Libbs, Harper returns to the Ruins to venture around above the earth this time. There is no shield of dirt and stone to keep the sun away from him this time, and so he is lightly garbed in a tanktop and shorts. The buildings are falling apart and their stability is questionable, but Harper has spent most of his life determining what is safe to climb and vault off of. It has been far too long since his last freerunning exercise, and today is as good a day as any.
Finding a building to climb is far easier when half of them are slumped towards the earth like sagging, tired giants. From there it's as easy as ever. Running, leaping, bouncing off walls and support beams, flipping over debris and alleyways. His grapnel had been lost when he was sucked through the portal, and he longs for the sensation of flight, the adrenaline of dropping in freefall from a building before shooting out a line at the precise right time to swing freely instead of yanking your arms from their sockets. A shame, though the buildings admittedly aren't quite tall enough for such antics anyway.
Coming to a jogging pause upon a sturdier roof, Harper wipes the sweat from his brow as he pants, loose-limbed and smiling after a series of difficult conversations lining his days recently. Finally he can feel the weight of it sliding away, leaving him unburdened and fresh once more.
She is intending to pass through today, having spent some time in the ruins lately and finding that she has learned all she can from this place right now. They all knew the basics, of course, the war and barrier; the will of the gods and actions of others long dead altering their lives forever. She wasn’t sure there was much of a story left to tell here, really, unless she could see into the past or speak to the dead, unless she could divine truth from touching objects and buildings left behind. Still, Weaver likes the ruins in a weird way, enjoys simply sitting in the shade of the buildings occasionally or wandering through, wondering what she might find that’s been long forgotten by its original owner.
Today though, her plans and attention are diverted to the top of the buildings and a boy leaping and flipping his way from one building to the next. She watches, following his progress from the ground as best she can, losing sight of him here and there, but managing to track him by sound and the occasional appearance of a spinning body peaking between buildings. Eventually he comes to a stop on a roof that doesn’t look highly likely to cave in at any moment, and Weaver, slightly winded from following him, manages to catch up.
”Where did you learn how to do that?” she yells up at him, some amount of awe apparent in her voice. It was impressive and she wonders if he’d ever consider teaching her some of the basics, though for now she doesn’t ask. Instead she just waits to see if he even wanted to talk to his unexpected audience.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
02-16-2020, 02:17 AM (This post was last modified: 02-16-2020, 02:18 AM by Harper.)
For once, foolishly secure in this far less populated world, Harper does not register that he has acquired a follower. Far too focused on the burn of use in his limbs, the harsh rubble beneath his palms and the impact that resonates through his heels as he lands. Keeping each breath controlled even as he sweats beneath the glare of the sun, adding to the intensity of the workout.
Only as he stares out at the horizon, hands on his hips to open up his airways as he catches his breath, does the figure below catch his eye just moments before she calls out. Surprise makes them widen, but his grin is roguish as the words register. Ever the performer, the crowd pleaser. Dusting his hands lightly against his thighs, he jogs to the edge of the building and fearlessly drops himself off the edge, one hand catching the lip of the roof as his feet find what once was a window, pushing off into a flip purely to show off as he lands in a crouch on the sun baked earth.
Straightening, Harper smiles towards the beautiful woman and gives a playful little bow before approaching. "Years of training from my mentor! I was an acrobat as a child though, which certainly helped." Holding out his calloused hand, his smile turns warm and genial. "I'm Harper."
He probably ought to be secure. Anyone who could dart along buildings like that had a pretty good chance of escape, given that any average person couldn’t follow. His biggest enemy would likely be an air manipulator, a skill that Weaver lacked, though she might be capable of chucking some fire at him one of these days (not that she had any such intentions). He looks down at her before leaping from the building, performing yet another death defying display. Despite the fact he’s clearly showing off (maybe she appreciates a show off), she gives him an appraising and impressed look as he lands.
She takes his hand, giving it a firm shake, noting the calluses on his hands which she assumes come from flipping on and off rooftops. Her own were covered in the calluses that come from years of fighting, skinning animals, and generally growing up with two brothers. An acrobat?” she asks, having an idea of what that might be but only inasmuch as one might know what cake tastes like having never actually had it. ”I take it you are not from around here? I admit I don’t know the Grounds that well, but I don’t think they have acrobats…” What would be the point, when you were busy just trying to survive and not get eaten by monsters?
”I’m Weaver. And that is impressive. And probably useful.” A compliment. Actually two, given without even being tucked away in some usual Weaver-like sarcasm. Such a skill did not deserve sarcasm. ”Have you ever taught anyone?” She raises her brows slightly, selfishly curious.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Ah, tough crowd. Harper grins boyishly at her, more than satisfied by her appraising look even in the wake of her silence. Perhaps he has grown a little spoiled, especially after so many of his formative years performing in front of a crowd more than happy to scream and clap at his death-defying stunts. Working a little harder has never daunted him before. Though clearly hard work is not a notion beyond the woman before him, if their matching callouses are any sign of tenacity and determination. The firm shake that follows is well-met, and Harper's own gaze turns appraising - though far from objectifying - as it sweeps up and down Weaver's frame.
The uncertain way she repeats the word reminds him of Kiada and the fact that such things aren't commonplace here, where entertainment is even more of a rarity than some of the less economically blessed places he had performed in in the past. "A performer of sorts, I would fly between bars hung on ropes high above these buildings with no net or brace. You stop being afraid of heights after that." It's admitted with a boyish grin, aware of how foolish it can sound to someone unused to a circus atmosphere, to willingly perform such dangerous stunts. "I'm an Outlander, I think is the term. Where I come from such acts were put on for large crowds in exchange for their patronage." Money isn't present here in a way that Harper is familiar with, but patronage at least is semi-universal. "Are you from outside the Grounds then? I'm attempting to explore this area before trying the portals admittedly." He may know of the lands beyond, but his exploration of them has been minimal to nonexistent.
Her compliments - and her name, even more precious - only brighten his countenance. "A hard won compliment, thank you! I've taught many people, but usually in the art of combat. Not as many see the usefulness in free-running." But she had. He can't help but give her an appreciative look on that merit alone. "Would you want to learn?"
The impressed look she gives him is high praise. It’s not something she gives out lightly, and the concept of cheering and clapping doesn’t cross her mind. Not that she wouldn’t, necessarily, but it feels very un-Weaver-like. Like him, she appraises, her gaze interested but not necessarily objectifying, and she doesn’t shy away from his matching look. She’s rather used to being both appraised and objectified, usually in the same glance, that neither bothers her much. Not that everyone had a taste for her, but certainly enough, and she wasn’t fool enough not to realize she’s attractive. On the contrary, her looks are often as much a weapon as the scythe, so long as she knows when to wield it.
She nods as he says Outlander, confirming that was indeed the word, what all the Naturals called those pulled in from other worlds by The Voice. She finds the idea of other worlds fascinating, and while she knows most Naturals are not happy with the Outlanders, Weaver feels for them. To be ripped from their home and thrown into the hell that was Caido was no small thing.
”Entertainment, then? It would be wonderful to watch, I’m sure. Did you enjoy it?” It doesn’t seem all that weird to her to do death defying things, but of course, she lived in Halo which in and of itself was a death-defying feat. ”Halo. We’ve never been able to leave really, so when the portal opened my curiosity got the better of me eventually.” She shrugs. Curiosity killed the cat, and she was definitely the cat. ”If you ever want a Halo tour guide though, I am pretty good at it,” she offers, having extended the offer to a few Grounders she’s met. Extend a friendly hand, gain a few friends or allies, perhaps. Or simply a bit of information in return.
He brightens at the compliment and then talks of having taught others. She grins, excitement showing in her features now. ”You fight, too? But yes, I would love to learn if you are willing.” He just keeps getting more interesting, it seems.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
The nostalgia in his guileless gaze is likely answer enough for her, but Harper gives a wistful smile nonetheless. "Absolutely. It was all I knew from the moment I was born, and there's nothing quite like entertaining beneath colorful lights, making people hold their breath and scream with joy every time you perform a dangerous routine." Their envy had never registered with Harper, who even now believes you're never too old to learn, to try, to teach yourself how to be fearless and weightless.
Weaver seems more than fearless enough as it is, especially if she is from Halo, which is impressive enough to have his brows rising in admiration. "I've only been once, and it was...very far from what I'm used to. But I'm always happy to see it with fresh eyes if you're offering." His smile is sincere, willing to give the frozen land another chance, to see it from her point of view and find the positives that the chill alone had concealed from him.
Her excitement is contagious (not that Harper ever needs the incentive) though his grin is slightly sharper at the edges this time around. Recognizing that same fighting spirit in her that he sees in himself. "Aren't I just the whole package?" he teases. "Care to start learning now? No time like the present!"
She listens with interest, and she finds she is glad to know he enjoyed his old career. To be a spectacle seems either like a blessing or a curse, or perhaps both. She’s not sure she would enjoy it in the way he did, not that she isn’t a spectacle in her own right sometimes. A pretty girl with a scythe certainly drew attention, but no one was watching her with expectations of being entertained. ”It sounds like something we could use here. A bit of enjoyment in the midst of all this,” she says, gesturing to the ruins around them. Maybe one day Caido would be more than a place to survive.
Weaver chuckles at his response to Halo. ”It is very far from what most anyone is used to. Once upon a time it was not a Tundra, or so the stories say. No one alive today would know for sure though. That said, I am certainly offering. It is still freezing cold and covered in snow, but I do know the best spots in Halo.” There was beauty there too, amidst the frozen wasteland, as long as you knew how to look for it.
”Oh, you truly are,” she says with a mischievous little grin. Cute, talented, kind, and willing to teach her new tricks. Really, what more could a girl ask for? In response to his next question, she nods. ”Where do we begin?” she asks, ready and willing.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
The ruins she gestures to speak for themselves, and Harper - for all he can appreciate the fun they supply him - is aware that there is little joy to be taken from its current state. "I'm here to be a pleasant distraction," he asserts jovially instead with a grin and an impish wink. "Audience of one still counts right?" She could have the place of honor, front row center seat to Harper's tomfoolery.
The lore surrounding Halo's creation is admittedly captivating, and he has to fight not to look like a starry-eyed and whimsical child being easily fooled by fanciful stories. Except he is, because there's no fun in losing that kind of magical mystery in your life. "Consider it a date." Slate blue eyes crinkle with mirth, wondering what her reaction will be to such forward, inescapable flirtations. Certainly if she gives him the sign he'll back off, but she's already proving to be delightful company, and a witty contender.
With a delighted laugh he bends and gets some loose dust on his hands, reaching forward with a beckoning gesture for Weaver to give him her palms to spread it over. She could have done so herself but where's the fun in that? "Step one: climbing. You can't fly if you're on the ground. The dust will help you grip better especially as you start to sweat." Dusting up his own palms isn't a priority with his experience, using what remains as he advances back to the fallen buildings, leading Weaver to a collapsed wall that has formed somewhat of a rocky triangle. With a grin he runs up the base of it as far as it will take him, and with an easy jump grabs onto the lip of the top of the building and hauls himself up. Turning to look down at his new pupil with a smirk. "Make sure to get some momentum! Don't worry, I'll catch you if you fall." Though he suspects she won't be needing his help at all.
”An audience of one is just how I like it,” she says with a playful smile. Though some part of her can’t help but wonder what it might be like if they set something up purely for entertainment, somewhere to seat the crowds and watch others perform. A place of joy in all this. Though it feels like they would be flirting with disaster to try it, knowing how well even simple gatherings seem to go here.
Her eyebrows raise just slightly at the use of the word date, though her smile curves into something roguish and pleased. ”A date?” she asks, tone playful and pleased as well, clearly not minding the blatant flirtations. He’s cute and talented and kind, which is certainly something she can appreciate. ”I shall dress in my best wool cloak then,” she says with a chuckle, for there is no dressing up in Halo really. There are only thick layers and warm clothes, hoods and scarves and very little exposed skin.
As he bends forward and then gestures for her to do the same, she obliges, reaching her hands toward him and allowing him to cover them in dirt (which she will absolutely let him do, simply because he’s adorable). Not that her hands weren’t slightly dirty anyway simply from being outside, but the dust has a clear effect to make them less clammy or likely to be slick with sweat.
He leads them to a collapsed building, and she watches as he runs up its side and then leaps, grabbing the lip of the building and pulling himself over. He makes it look so damn effortless, which she is sure will not be the case, but she also doesn’t really want to fail on task number one. Weaver unslings the scythe from her back, propping it against a crumbling wall. Though she’d love to learn to do all this with the scythe on her back, best to start without it.
She starts a bit farther back then he did, giving herself space to get some momentum as he instructed. Then she takes off, running up the wall as fast and as far as she can before leaping forward, barely managing to catch the lip of the wall. It takes her a moment to get a slightly better grip and then haul herself up far enough to throw one leg over the wall before coming to join him. Not as graceful or easy as he made it look, but successful enough for a first shot.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
A beautiful, skilled, and humorous woman? All in one? Harper must truly be lucky to have caught her attention today, and his cheeky grin practically writes the words there in the sky for her to read. It's a miracle that she even entertains his playful notions of a date, and agreeing to it only makes him light up all the brighter. "I will dutifully compliment it," he assures instead through his soft chuckle, already knowing she will likely look much better than what he can pull together to ward off the frost. She is much more practiced at it than he is.
Harper knows she's amusing him, but he is gentle and thorough with her hands as she gives them to him. He is a little surprised by how quickly he finds himself warming to her, but then again powerful and witty souls have always been his downfall. He suspects she will only prove him right as he begins to teach her how to free run.
His own breath is held in anticipation as she runs up the same path he laid for her, kneeling in preparation to assist if she needs it, which she most certainly does not. "Impressive! You'll be stealing my spotlight in no time." Springing back to his feet with limber ease, he gestures to the far end of the building and the alley that they will next have to cross. "We're going to start slow, but momentum will be your best friend as you get faster. The jumps are easier from building to building, but you always want to land with bent knees, and potentially roll over your shoulder on longer or higher jumps." Here he demonstrates a slowed down version of a simple forward roll, springing back up like an energetic rabbit once more. "Second most important thing aside from sparing your joints, is eyeing the right landing spot before you hit the edge. The entire time you're running, you need to be deducing which spot is safest. Cracks, debris, those kind of things you want to avoid. The closer you land to the main structural pattern, the safer you'll be." Which really only holds such important meaning out here where the buildings are crumbling and decayed, but he knows she'll be safe if she follows the routes he takes.
"And tip three?" Here he grins and reaches to brush a line of dust from his finger across her cheek, winks and sound around to take off running, calling over his shoulder, "Don't hesitate!" Leaping gracefully over the alleyway, landing in a crouch that he turns into a rather unnecessary roll if only to be a good teacher.
Weaver laughs, loud and amused, as he responds. ”You really know how to win a lady over,” she says with a playful grin, clearly enjoying the flirtatious banter. He may consider himself lucky (and perhaps he is, a bit), though he is selling himself short. Handsome, talented, and kind were not qualities to be taken for granted. And perhaps she is humoring him as he dusts her hands, but who’s to say she is not enjoying it? Let’s face it, she has always been a shameless flirt anyway. It is fun. Though he might be worth more than mere flirting, a thing that time would reveal. Hopefully he would come to visit.
Weaver can feel the exertion of just the one move, and she chuckles slightly as he calls it impressive. ”You know, you make this look easy. Not that I expected it to be, but damn boy.” She means it too. Just to get on to the building was hard, and some part of her is about ready to turn around and get straight back down to solid ground. Though most of her is simply exhilarated. Adrenaline pumps in her veins, and she’s itching to try more. Even if jumping along buildings is probably a really great way to break a bone. Well, she could go visit Loren.
Weaver listens as he lists out tips. They might be overwhelming, but she has spent enough time training to hunt, to fight, to wield weapons, that she is used to taking a barrage of directions. He does a good job explaining though, and she chuckles as he wipes dust on her cheek and then yells tip number three over his shoulder. ”Show off!” she calls as he leaps with a grace she cannot even hope to possess. Still, she takes off, following his path and launching herself over to the next building, landing with knees bent and ready to roll, though she finds she manages to keep her balance. She straightens, looking pleased with herself, and turns to him for the next move. Though, she takes a moment to stick some dust from her own hand on his cheek. ”There, now we match.”
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
An impish grin is her response, playfully miming zipping his lips as if to spare himself from betraying his own flirtatious ways. Not that she seems at all bothered by them, which only makes her company all the more pleasurable. She is certainly a catch herself; beautiful, witty, unafraid of getting her hands dirty, and willing to learn any manner of new skills. Harper might just swoon, but climbing buildings with her is far too enticing a prospect to go flopping over in the dust like an overgrown fish.
Instead, as she chases him up to the building's roof, he laughs brightly at her teasing even as his cheeks flush with warmth at the compliment. Cheeks dimpling with the force of his smile, energized and entertained. "Have to show off a little for a beautiful lady," he assures, eyes crinkling with mischievous delight. Admittedly Harper can't hide the sincere appreciation for her compliment. It is so rare for someone to not only commend his skill but to also want to learn it at his side. Before their adrenaline can die down, Harper swipes his finger over the curve of her cheek and takes off, spinning on the balls of his feet to eagerly watch her response. She does not disappoint; dark hair a streak against the pale sky, eyes focused and intent, form admirable for a beginner. Just as he opens his mouth to compliment her in turn, she sneakily returns the favor of marking him, and any words he intended to speak jumble up into a huff of laughter.
"You got me." Blue eyes gleam as he smirks down at her, letting her take the words in any variety of ways before he turns and surveys their next obstacle. It has a solid standing wall up to what had once been a second story, and then a modest drop down to the ceiling of the first story. Perfect. Instead of overloading her verbally once more, he instead beckons her towards the edge once more, long legs striking out quickly to speed up into the jump. Landing with both feet on the beam-like concrete, then swinging his left hand down to hold himself as he uses the momentum to jump and side-roll over his shoulder on the landing below. "Don't worry, I can catch you!" Harper calls back to Weaver once he has popped back to his feet, knowing the narrow landing can be daunting and more than willing to be the sweaty knight in shining tanktop if she falters.
A sweaty knight in a shining tank top he may have to be. Though she’s been enjoying the challenge, the flirtatious banter in between, and even the dust streak on her cheek, this next move looks hard. Besides that, he gives her almost no instruction this time, though she follows as he beckons her forward and she watches as he lands easily on the beam-like wall and then rolls down to the landing below.
Well fuck. Okay then. Guess we’re doing this. Because let’s face it, she is too much a fool to back down from the challenge. Besides, she does trust that he’ll catch her.
Weaver takes a running start, trying to judge just how much force she needs in the jump to land at exactly the right spot. She is close, but not exactly, overshooting slightly so that only one foot makes it to the second wall. She teeters, trying to catch just enough of her balance that she can use her hand to help herself into a roll as he had done. It is only mildly successful, enough so that if he fails to catch her, she will land on her back and at least not her head.
Not such a successful attempt this time, and she finds herself laughing (whether from her back on the ground or his arms), amused at her own somewhat failed attempt. She didn’t die or go crashing all the way back to earth, at least.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
