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!
Letha's response was enough to make Amun chuckle. "Nah, it's fine. Just giving you a hard time." Thankfully, they were making excellent time, and he lead her through the Domiciles now. "Long story short, there are old gods of Caido. They gave mortals magic. However, the Voice decided to strike out on her own, and use the magic in ways the gods didn't approve of to help humanity, including making the Ascended." He paused to let all that sink in.
"So there was a war. The Voice lost, and was imprisoned in the Hollowed Ground." Shrugging, he shot her a cautious look, wondering how she'd feel about the truncated history lesson.
Thankfully, they arrived at the door to his studio soon enough. The sign said Potter's Play, and he opened it and gestured for her to enter. "Home sweet home." Inside was sort of an organized chaos: there was a cot in one corner, a kiln in the opposite one, a workstation with half-worked clay on it and a bunch of unworked clay underneath it, shelves with various completed projects scattered around, and finally a potter's kick wheel in the center of the room.
Letha smiled, relieved to feel that Amun was still on her side, still willing to have her here and to speak with her about her new family. Everything that Amun had so far explained to Letha had been all together too interesting to ever let go. He went on about Old Gods and the Voice, and she lifted a brow. "How do the Old Gods feel about the Voice?" she asked, following him through the domiciles and the winding streets. He already responded by telling her of the war that ensued. She tensed some. "So, there are Old Gods and the Voice, and us, and other races, I'm assuming. And how do we all get along?"
Somehow, Letha felt that there was still a war. It explained the less-than-lively Hollowed Grounds. Even in the dark, Letha had watched in Torchline how many people were active. Here, it was not like that. She followed Amun through to his shop, and smiled even broader as she looked around. Even for having never been here before, it all felt familiar. She walked around, unashamed in her wonder and her joy. She touched almost everything, letting her fingertips run along shelves and work spaces and half-finished projects. She was almost lost in it all, before she snapped herself back.
Pulling her hands up to loosely cross over her midsection, Letha let out a breathy chuckle. "Sorry."
Sighing Amun gave Letha a slightly troubled look. It didn't look quite like it belonged on the normally cheerful and easy-going potter's face. "They don't like her. They and their followers think she has some nefarious plot afoot, and don't like that she and her Ascended are spreading out and expanding their influence across the world."
Shrugging, he chuckled. "I get along fine with everyone. But the old gods are the ones who make the Attuned. So there can be some friction between us and them. The Accepted, well, it depends which gods they follow. Some people have a problem with the Abandoned, since the Voice was one before she rebelled." Again, though he was telling her in as even and neutral a tone as he could manage, it was obvious this wasn't his favorite discussion topic.
Thankfully, watching her joy in exploring his studio was enough to bolster his spirits. Grinning, he headed to the cot. Kneeling down, he pulled out a chest from beneath it. Rummaging through it, he pulled out some clothes, including a black, full-body cloak and gloves.
Standing up, he turned to face her. "No need to apologize. Always nice to meet an admirer." He held out the bundle of clothes for her. "Plus you're family. Feel free to use any of the tools or supplies. And here is some spare clothing for you." They were about the same height, so it should fit her.
She had missed the look on his face that would have told her to stop, but she didn't need it. Letha took in all of the information Amun offered, but she didn't ask anything further about the Voice, the old gods, or the others. She nodded, still. In her own mind she laughed, thinking about the amount of history he had offered her. She joked with herself that she might need to ask Amun for a paper to write this all down, so she could keep it all straight.
She moved to close some distance between them in the shop when he started rummaging around in a chest. When he reached out to hand her the clothes, she smiled some in appreciation. "Thank you, Amun." She took the cloak bundle of clothes and held them against her chest. the cloak and the gloves, she noted, would be helpful against the sun, like he had told her before.
She turned to look out again at the shop, running her eyes along everything. "Would you teach me to use that?" she asked, motioning with her chin towards the kick wheel.
Grinning as Letha took the clothes from Amun, he nodded. "You're very welcome." As she asked about the kick wheel, he glanced towards it. "Sure! It's really not that hard." With that, he gestured for her to head over to the workstation.
Taking out some unworked clay, he cleared a space on the table for her. Next to the clay he set a wire. There was a small barrel of water under the table as well, which he used to fill a bucket. "First step in any pottery project is deciding what you're going to make." Stepping back, he nodded at the stool in front of the desk. "Why don't you tell me what you want to make, and then cut what you think is an appropriate amount of clay using the wire."
04-06-2020, 09:42 PM (This post was last modified: 04-06-2020, 09:43 PM by Letha.)
LETHA
As Amun prepared the work station, Letha set her new clothes down on the cot from which under they had been retrieved. It was a quick motion, because she did not want to miss a thing. Her keen eyes swallowed Amun whole, committing every move he made to memory. Her fingertips twitched with anticipation and excitement, but her face was focused stone.
"Uhm....a mug." It was the first thing that popper into her head she thought could be useful to her. She looked at the hunk of clay. Before she took any tools, her hands lifted, even with her torso. She cupped them together, trying to imagine a mug in her hands. They moved around some, adjusting and turning and tilting, as if she were examining a real mug, though invisible, in her hands. Her eyebrows furrowed.
She stepped forward and took the wire, slicing down the moist clay. She took it in her hands, feeling the weight of it. She was not a potter, which was obvious because she had asked to learn, but her mother had been a mason. She knew that wet clay and stone and even mortar were heavier when wet. Deciding it wasn't enough, she took more clay, rolling it all over in her hands, before presenting it to Amun with a questioning look.
When Letha made her initial cut, Amun opened his mouth to correct her. Most people didn't realize how much clay was discarded in the process of making any given item. However, she swiftly corrected herself and he nodded. "Good. You added more. You always want more than you'll use in the final product." With that, he gestured for her to come over to the kick wheel, grabbing the bucket as he went. "Bring the clay too."
Sitting down, he glanced up at her. "I'm going to demonstrate the motion. It's a bit tricky but you'll get the hang of it quickly." With that, he kicked at the base that was slightly above the ground. It set the cylinder in the center of the wheel to spinning, and the wheel on top as well. He had to kick it a few more times before it was at the speed he wanted. Then he shifted into kicking in a steady pace, just maintaining the current speed.
Letting it rumble to a halt, he stood up. "Got it? If not, feel free to ask questions." He held out his hand for her clay and gestured for her to take the seat he'd just vacated.
She watched him carefully, holding the clay in her hands. Letha had always had a knack for being able to watch someone move their body in a certain way and then replicate it. Nothing could have happened in this moment for her attention to be pulled from Amun as he worked the wheel. Idly, her thumbs moved over the clay as she took in every detail of his movements.
When he stood, Letha moved quickly. She took his place. She set the clay down in the middle, a large lump of grey. Lifeless, shapeless. She needed to practice the motion of keeping the wheel moving as Amun had. She kicked it a few times, carefully, watching how it reacted. When she was satisfied with the action, she kept it going steadily, and looked up at Amun, awaiting further instruction.
Watching Letha carefully, Amun finally nodded in agreement when she got the hang of keeping the wheel spinning. "Nice work! You figured that out way more quickly than I did." Grinning, he leaned forward a bit so he could get a better angle for the next part of the work.
He gestured for the lump of unworked clay in the very center of the wheel. "I want you to wet your hands. Then placed your thumbs gently in the center of the clay and pinch the outside a little bit and pull up and out. Not too much, mind you." He spoke slowly and clearly, and he paused to see if she had any questions. As he did, he bent down and picked up the bucket of water, holding it for her to dip her hands into.
Letha was not the only one satisfied with her motion. As Amun praised her, she felt the muscles in her shoulders relax slightly. Continuing to follow his instructions, she dipped her hands into the water. Carefully, she placed both hands just hovering over each side of the rotating clay. As Amun had coached her, she set her thumbs to the middle of the clay. Gently, she pressed and pinched and guided upwards. Her hard was hard with focus, eyebrows barely able to come closer together than they were.
As she worked the clay, she played with the pressure she applied. She watched how the clay reacted, and as Amun coached her she adjusted. She did her best to try and do what he said, though she would admit that she would always do better with watching someone do something and then replicate it herself. She knew it would take some practice to master this craft, as Amun had, but Letha enjoyed working with the clay. It felt like she was close to the earth, close to Ma here in this foreign land. "How's this?" She asked, looking up at Amun from the side of her eyes.
Amun watched Letha work the clay. Although he wasn't much of a teacher, he tried to turn as critical an eye to her work as possible. Unfortunately, it came out a bit lopsided in the end, the thickness not the same all the way through. "Good! This is tough though. Here, let me show you. Keep kicking at it."
With that, he knelt by the wheel until he was on the same level as her. His hands reached out and hovered over the clay for a moment. Then he pressed it back together, undoing all the work she'd done. However, it was only so he could replicate it. His thumbs pressed down on the center while his fingers pulled on the outside. "Make sure to keep the pressure steady. And if you mess up, remember it's malleable. You can always pull or push it back into the shape you wanted." That said, he pulled it outwards so the rim was bowing out. Then he shifted it so it was pushing inwards at the top.
Finally, he returned it to the lump it had started out as. "Now you try." Removing his hands from the clay, he stood up. Then he gestured for her to take a spin (pun semi-intended).
Letha continued to kick, but she pulled her hands back. Her fingers twitched as she watched Amun work the clay, totally mesmerized. Watching him, a master at his craft, shape the malleable medium with ease, made her lose reality. Nothing else mattered in the world to her in this moment, other than making this mug. She bit her lower lip, her face stone.
Wordlessly, she took back over when she was instructed. For a moment, she closed her eyes and envisioned what Amun had just demonstrated. She tried to replicate it as best as possible. The motion was easy, having watched him, but she struggled slightly with the pressure. At first, she pinched too hard and the sides thinned. "No," She said aloud, to herself mostly. She eased up the pressure between her thumb and fingers, and pressed down slightly with her palms to make the beginnings of her mug shorter, but thicker walled. After a few turns of the kick wheel, she pressed in again with her palms and let the structure rise again in height.
She glances at Amun out of the corner of her eye. "What next?"
Amun's mouth was already open to correct Letha, but he snapped it closed when she corrected herself. Nodding approvingly, he watched as she fixed her mistake. When she asked what was next, he pointed towards the outside of the mug. "See how it's a bit uneven? And how there's some excess clay on the outside?" He picked up a small blade, kind of like a scalpel.
Then he held it just over the surface of the clay. "The next step is to trim that. You just run the blade gently along the areas you want to even out. Don't press too hard or hold it too long or you'll remove too much."
Still hovering without touching the clay, he ran his blade up from the bottom of the mug to the top, moving at a steady pace and holding it at the same distance the whole time. "Think you can do that?" He flipped the blade around towards her, holding it out hilt first.
The fact that Amun's mouth opened and closed several times at this point as Letha explored how she could mold the clay was not lost on her, despite her iron focus. She did not lean back any more as Amun explained the next step to her, explaining the use of the tool and demonstrating. Nodding, she took the scalpel from him. She held it in her hands for a few minutes, keeping the wheel turning and the clay moving. She closed the eyes, envisioning the technique in her head that she had just watched the master demonstrate.
Opening her ocean eyes, she gently reached out with the tool. She barely grazed it over the still-moving, still-moist clay. Thin, thin lines of shrapnel fell from the blade. She was afraid to press too hard, not wanting to start over at this point. She bit her lower lip some, pulling the knife away and inspecting the mug. She reached out again, shaving just a few more hairlines of clay from the soon-to-be mug, before deciding it looked okay.
