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!
The commotion was far enough from Kel that he caught only the distant edges of it and could see nothing of who was involved. Quiet returned soon enough that he didn't feel the need to investigate further. Instead he found a twig near at hand and used it to draw in the sand, sketching simple, sweeping lines. A tree, the edges of a face, a leaf that belonged to no tree of Caido. The candle burned with a clear light, glowing green within its leafy lantern, but Kel kept a cautious eye on it to make sure it didn't catch the greenery on fire.
For a moment he glanced up and thought he caught a familiar shock of auburn but... no. He blinked and it was gone, whoever it had been swallowed up into the crowd and the shifting light and shadows of a hundred and more lanterns. The homesickness swelled in him, painful enough to burst as he reached up to tangle his fingers around his mother's necklace as he fought to hold in the tears he hadn't cried since he arrived. It wasn't the dead he mourned so much as those he had lost.
And he felt like the one who was the most lost of them all.
Her lanterns settled in place, she gave them one last look, before extending her eyes over the crowd. She spotted Nate and Sunjata nearby, but they seemed ensconced in their own discussion, and she wasn’t about to go interrupt. There were a few others scattered here and there, familiar, known, but the state of mourning against the backdrop of play, of games, seemed so different. That she should’ve been embracing, celebrating, and remembering those individuals seemed right, just, and fair, but the weight of loss was all too paramount. So instead, she grabbed hold of Fangorn, comfortable, familiar, a part of her soul, tucking him into her arms, where he purred against her chest, before taking a step back from the threshold, slowly sticking her toes into the sand.
isn't it funny? how the cold numbs everything but grief?
It’s too sobering of a mood, this Festival. And it always really had been from what he can remember (a whopping grand total of two), so he doesn’t take it to heart when Nate can’t muster the energy for the quip. So Sunjata remains quiet, a support and a tether as Nate hangs his lanterns as well, imagining who the decidedly not Maea lantern was for. A deep nod is given to the first comment, still not quite feeling like it was real. But it was, and if Sunjata knew one thing, it was watching those around him die and disappear into nothing more than memories.
So he squeezes Nate’s hand back, leaning over to press a kiss light to the Ascended’s cheek, trying to keep the mood from delving too deeply into the uncharted dark waters it could so easily go for him at least. A flash of a smile is given to him as he spots Melita’s fiery hair in the distance. “That we can.” He agrees, before moving and tugging Nate along with him while he inclines his head toward the honey child.
He reaches her after a moment, solemn and quiet upon his approach, a small smile of greeting. “Heuningby.” He rumbles with a small half smile, before letting Nate’s hand go, eyeing Fangorn perhaps a bit warily as he opens his arms to Melita to see if she’d like a hug.
if we could light up the room with pain, we'd be such a glorious fire
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
Still somewhat taken aback, Amalia smiles crookedly at Remi with a quiet nod. "Yes. I do."
Not keen on further infringing on their family moment, the Shield quickly reaches into her bag and pulls out a carefully wrapped package. Gingerly she unwraps it to reveal the gift painstakingly made: a paper mache lantern made of the many colorful and childish drawings Aoife had drawn on her visits to the bakery. Though not the most expertly made, the star-shaped light is nonetheless resplendent with illustrations, bright with the heart and soul of the girl and crafted by Amalia's love for her.
Passing it gingerly to the men, Amalia looks at Ronin. "You said you didn't have anything of hers," she says softly, searching the blue eyes. "I had these in the shop... I hope... I hope it's okay."
Glancing warily at his lantern — he tried not to think about what might happen if the sea breeze picked up and caught the lightweight wood and paper — he stepped away from the stripped branch and its delicate treasure, trudging through the sand as Oliver grinned and replied. Rance felt a bemused smile curling his lips. “Yeah, makes sense. Don’t need the locals drivin’ you out of town because you shun their traditions.”
Once he was close enough, Rance dropped down beside blond, draping one arm over a knee and letting the other hand drift to the sand. The texture was still new to him — hells, the beach as a whole was still new! The Grounds were at least somewhat familiar in that it was a rough town surrounded by forest. The heat, the salt in the air, the strange trees and animals, the fucking ocean — had he not been surrounded by activity every time he visited, he might have felt lost. Like now, when he could focus on Oliver instead of the vast body of water yards away. “Bein’ very appreciative of the carpentry skills I learned growin’ up.” His smile and tone said he was fairly amused by this fact. “Talked to people at the tavern, done more than a few building repairs — Almost makes me wish I had any desire to set up a business, There’s more than enough work.” And that was definitely said with a sardonic self-awareness.
Nate hummed, a toneless buzzing that only lasted until his hand was squeezed, until Sunjata leaned in close and brushed against his cheek. It didn't take much to pull him away from the edge of darkness on the best occasions, and while this wasn't exactly that, Nate was more than willing to pull some comfort from the hand in his, from the smile he's offered.
He moves along where he's pulled easily, not at all surprised when they move towards a flash of red hair. "D'you think we should just start inviting Melita to come with us to things?" He joked softly, smiling softly at the girl and lifting his newly empty hand in greeting.
He’s about to say more, and she wants to hear it, but damn whatever Loren and Remi were up to. They interrupt Korbin, and instead the topic shifts to them. The topic of Weaver’s life often shifts to Loren, actually. She ought to be annoyed, but she cannot quite bring herself to be. Stupid soft heart.
”I know Loren told me they don’t get along, but shit. I didn’t realize it was that bad.” Loren had clearly left out some details that Weaver probably needed to know. Because this was going to be more than a personal grudge, potentially, with each of them part of the government of their regions. Well just fuck. Something to keep tabs on. ”Loren never told me why they weren’t on good terms.”
Weaver shakes her head slightly as the commotion dies down and people try to go back to the festival, though the hushed whispers that run through conversations are clear enough. ”So what were you saying about Torchline being too warm?” she asks, teasing grin slipping back into place as she bumps him lightly with her hip.
And round about his home the glory That blushed and bloomed,
He hummed at the not-explanation. Korbin was only moderately interested, mostly due to the possible insult done to a Halo citizen. He didn't know what it was about, but part of him wished Loren would have stood his ground rather than run like a rabbit. Or a goose, in this case. It didn't look good.
Still, it didn't take much persuation to lure him back to the conversation with his sister. He nudged Weaver back, his lopsided grin warmer than anyone else would have been granted. "I was saying, I have no idea how they can think around here when the brain is slowly evaporating. Though I guess that would explain a few things..."
He threw a meaningful look in the direction that shouting stranger had disappeared off to, then rolled his eyes.
Is but a dim-remembered story Of the old time entombed.
Strung along her silence, the youth was poised to flee or sink into nothingness – uncomfortable with the idea of playing and frolicking amongst hums and murmurs and memories of those they’d lost. Perhaps others didn’t mind, starting something off to the side, but she couldn’t; too many other things embedded in these intervals. A heavy sigh threatened to boil over and choke her, except for the rumble of Sunjata’s voice jumped her – settling quickly upon realizing who it was. Her head twisted around, smiling feebly, and letting Fangorn down to the ground, where he rested against her ankle, as she addressed both Nate and Sunjata.
As Sunjata opened his arms to her in offering, she did the same to both of them – comfort and reassurance in multiple forms.
Some people aren’t meant to have a lot of others, and I’ve accepted that I’m one of those people. I value my independence, my privacy - in fact, it turns out my privacy is going to be necessary now, so - I shrug. “Or maybe I’m just glad all the good ‘uns are still alive, yeah?” The good crew of the Ark, perhaps? The new people I've met. Mik. My regulars have been remarkably responsible, which makes me think next year will be a doozy, because that's just how things tend to roll. You don’t have to mourn every year. Fuck, that would be exhausting. Offering the bottle to Saiden again, I let him drink if he wants before continuing my wander down the beach with an eye for all kinds of admiration - lantern and person alike.
04-21-2020, 10:08 PM (This post was last modified: 04-21-2020, 10:08 PM by Saiden.)
Saiden smiled at Raza's response, not begrudging her that if it was true and respecting her need for privacy if it wasn't. "Good on ya. And enjoy the festivities then, yeah?" For those of them who couldn't quite muster up the requisite cheer, including him.
Taking the bottle, he toasted her, then took one last drink. Handing it back to her, he wiped a bit of liquid with the back of his hand. "Thanks." As she moved on, he gave her a little wave. Then he turned back to regard his lantern, happy to stand there and think good thoughts about Vanya for a little while longer.
For all of the weirdness and wonder of the festival (and Ludo hadn't even made an appearance yet), Ronin could never, not in his wildest dreams, have expected the gift that Amalia held out for them. He recognised the colourful scribbles instantly, of course, blue eyes widening, and he gazed at the baker with a mix of shock and wonder. His throat tried to close around any words he wanted to say, and when he did speak it came out rough.
"How did... thank you, Amalia." He glanced to Remi, as if to ask if he would take the lantern given that Ronin's hands were kind of full. "I never expected to see anything of hers again. It's perfect. I don't know what to say."
Honestly, it took Lily awhile to remember Lucas. Not because he hadn’t been important to her, but because she’s suffered little loss compared to others. And when she did remember that he’d died this past year, she was suddenly filled with a sadness because it’s likely that no one else was going to hang a lantern for him. Maybe his Ascended people? Maybe the Devil’s Advocates? Maybe. But unlikely. His name had been conspicuously absent for too long.
So the redhead goes to work with a sigh one night, fashioning a lantern into the shape of a dick, because that’s probably what he would have wanted. Not his dick, because she can’t remember what it looks like, but a general dick all the same. And in the end it makes her chuckle, with its sparkly balls and glisten of pre-cum, plenty of room inside to light it and (hopefully) not have it melt or catch on fire. Little does she know that might be a fitting end to this particular lantern too.
When the redhead arrives in Torchline, she follows the flood of people down to the beach, taking a moment to observe some of the pretty lanterns before revealing her obscene one with a little snicker. She finds a place to hang it and light then, then sits down in its loooooooong shadow (at this, she is sure he would be most pleased) and nibbles on a post-hanging pastry.
--------------
tl;dr - Lily hangs a dick lantern for Lucas.
lily
as if you were on fire from within the moon lives in the lining of your skin
isn't it funny? how the cold numbs everything but grief?
“Mm yeah, we should.” He offers to Nate, giving his hand a light squeeze before he’s addressing Melita and focusing on the redhead, the way she jumps and seems inward on herself. But upon the sight of them, and Sunjata’s outstretched arms, he watches as she sets Fangorn down and approaches, embracing both of them. His arm slinks around Nate’s waist, and around Melita, pulling the honeybee child in tight.
Pulling away slightly, he lets his hand linger on her shoulder, offering her a small smile. “Gaan jy oukei wees?” He hums to her, raising a brow to see if she were still practicing. Nate had picked it up relatively quickly, and it had felt like a little secret between them all, something that was simply… Theirs.
Gaan jy oukei wees? - you gonna be okay?
if we could light up the room with pain, we'd be such a glorious fire
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
