Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
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And round about his home the glory That blushed and bloomed,
There didn't need to be overtures for him to feel awkward about touch, Korbin could manage that all by himself. Even a handshake was pushing things for him, and as soon as it was over, he shoved his hands deep into their usual pockets. Sitting or standing, it didn't matter. "Korbin," he replied, offering name for a name.
"May they burn brightly," came the quiet response, when his assumption was confirmed. A simple Halo blessing for the dead. No 'sorry', no condolences... they would be hollow and empty, even if he had known who it was for.
He didn't have to be coaxed to leave the matter lying, having no wish to dig into someone else's wounds. "My sister made a business deal with an outlander, and it's turning my life completely upside down. And she's disappointed because I'm not thrilled about it." There was more to it, of course, other worries and issues, but this really was the underlying cause. Change. Too much and too soon, and with no say in it whatsoever. His options were to go with the program, or turn his back on the only person who meant anything. It was terribly unfair, and whining about it was awfully childish. Both further reasons to be grumpy.
"Hmm... Honestly, can't think of anything. Unless you're in a mind to share how to stay that cool in this weather." Recalling the cool temperature of the hand, Korbin envied it.
Is but a dim-remembered story Of the old time entombed.
Recognizing the phrase for what it was, Amun nodded. "May she burn brightly." He held up an imaginary glass to toast Maea.
Humming thoughtfully, he gave Korbin a questioning look. "So you're not a fan of Outlanders then?" The potter's voice was only mildly interested. Shrugging, he returned his gaze to the harbor. "Family can be tough. Has she explained to you why she went along with the deal, and have you told her why you don't like it? Without fighting, just talking it over." It wasn't the best advice, but it was all he had at the moment.
He didn't look back at the other man. However, he did freeze for a moment. Then he sighed. "I could, but I'm pretty sure you won't like the answer."
And round about his home the glory That blushed and bloomed,
Repeating the phrase earned Amun a few points of favor, whether he knew it or not. Korbin nodded in acknowledgement, then turned his gaze back to the sea.
"I'm not a fan of change," he specified, "and outsiders bring that along whether they mean to or not. I'm sure there's nothing wrong with each of them individually, but when they sweep in and take over and don't listen to us who lived in the place before..." He kicked at the sand with a heel and shrugged, not even trying to disguise his frustration.
"Hm? Yeah, I tried. Of course, she's doing it for us, to make life better and safer. And it's her dream, and I don't have to help out if I don't want to, she just want me to be happy and laugh and joke like when I was a kid." Said the kid, who had stopped being one far too early and hardly remembered what it was like to have no cares in the world. "Probably she's right about all of it, but I still feel overrun. Am I supposed to just leave her sitting with a project that's too big for one person to handle alone? I can't, and she knows that."
Clenching his jaws, the expression was dark and stormy. Longing for something else to throw. A bigger rock, a closer ship, a chance to break something that wouldn't suffer for being broken.
Amun's reply was cryptic enough to draw his attention away, and he raised a dark brow in return. "Yeah? How about you try me."
Is but a dim-remembered story Of the old time entombed.
Amun gave Korbin a thoughtful look. "Fair enough." Then the potter shrugged. "But I'd argue new people always bring change. You brought change, when you were born. It's just a matter of scope and degree, and the respect with which you do it." He tried to keep his tone as reasonable as possible.
"If it's her dream and not yours, then I'd tell her to find someone else to help her with it." Sounding quite firm on that, he gave the other man an understanding look. "And no one should tell you how to feel about something but you."
The easy conversation (for the Ascended, at least) was probably about to end. Amun sighed, and finally met Korbin's eyes again. "I'm an Ascended." The potter braced himself for an adverse reaction.
And round about his home the glory That blushed and bloomed,
"Which is why I don't like new people," he said with a wry smile. Fully aware of how contrary and difficult he was acting. But the grumpiness had been accepted as part of the deal, so Korbin wouldn't apologize for it.
"If it was that simple, I'd have walked away already," he sighed. Pulling a hand from the pocket, he shoved long fingers through the messy mop of hair, further tousling the dark strands in a hopeless tangle. "But she's my sister. I'm the only family she's got, and she's mine. If I abandon her, what's left?"
The revelation seemed like it was a dramatic one. There was a beat of silence as Korbin processed it. "So?" he said, after a while. "What's that got to do with anything?" The look on his face was nonplussed. He'd heard a bunch of stories about the barrier and the lands within it, but it was a rather distant thing. Something to sing about in the taverns at LongNight, that's all.
Is but a dim-remembered story Of the old time entombed.
Amun couldn't help but grin briefly at Korbin's comment. "How do you feel about babies?" Surprisingly, a bit of the potter's old humor came back.
Giving the other man a confused look, the Ascended frowned. "Why would that be abandoning her?" He shook his head a bit. "Lots of siblings don't work together, and are still there for each other when they need it." It was clear he didn't quite understand the issue. "She'll still be your family, no matter what." That came out with the sad tone of someone who'd just lost someone he considered kin.
Glancing back to the sea, he shrugged. "I don't know. Lots of people dislike the Ascended for one reason or another."
And round about his home the glory That blushed and bloomed,
Korbin had to think about that one for a bit. "They're loud, smelly and distracting," he concluded. "I suppose they're necessary, but can't say I care to have any." The disinterest was surpreme, spoken like a true youth still too preoccupied with growing up to even begin considering the next generation.
As for his sister... It was clear Amun didn't realize the extent of their closeness. How their lives had revolved around each other, up until recently. Korbin wasn't really up to explaining it to him, so he just shrugged, humming unhappily.
It was easier to talk about the other man, and the prejudice that apparently dogged his steps. "I see. And have you given people reason for that dislike?" He was only moderately curious, but would listen. He was admittedly prone to prejudice himself... perhaps he could offer some insight as to why a whole race might be disliked.
Is but a dim-remembered story Of the old time entombed.
Amun snorted at Korbin's response. "That they are." Then the potter gave the other man an amused look. "I just meant, how do you feel about the change babies and children bring? The next generation I suppose." The Ascended was legitimately curious to hear how Korbin felt about the inevitable changes that came with time and progress.
Shrugging, Amun picked up a rock and tossed it into the harbor. It plopped in and he sighed. "Probably." He shot the other man a serious look. "Ascended represent those changes that you hate so much." It came out quietly, and the potter prepared to have to defend himself or leave in a hurry.
And round about his home the glory That blushed and bloomed,
Korbin shrugged. "Like I said, they're necessary. No kids, no future population. It's the kind of thing you gotta expect as long as people are around... But there's always a choice involved with them." A knowing smirk; you'd never get one sprung on you if you kept things tucked. "I guess, what gets to me are the sudden things. The ones where I'm not consulted and expected to fall in line with without the option to say no."
Which indeed made the Ascended a bit of a problem. Korbin's expression grew more serious too. Nodded, as he fixed a level gaze on Amun. "It's you people who opened that portal to Halo, if I'm not mistaken... Can't say I'm thrilled about that. Technically, you're to blame for all my current issues. What gave you the right to barge into my home unasked and uninvited?" There had been trade with other places before, but no influx of outsiders like this. Now... that sparse contact had ceased and the portal had become the sole means of contact with the rest of the continent.
Not a good thing, in his mind.
Is but a dim-remembered story Of the old time entombed.
Seeing as Amun couldn't have kids, he matched Korbin's smirk with an even deeper one. As the other man went on, the potter's brow furrowed. "Who says you can't say no?" He shrugged. "You've always got a choice." From his tone, it was clear he didn't quite understand the problem.
As predicted, though, the conversation quickly devolved. Amun sighed, and gave Korbin an almost annoyed look. "What gave your gods the right to lock our goddess and the Ascended in a bubble for a few hundred years?" The words came out more annoyed than the potter had intended. "Before that, the portals had been open. So one could argue that we're actually returning things to an older status quo." Again, his voice was sharp.
And round about his home the glory That blushed and bloomed,
Did he though? Korbin wasn't so sure. And Amun's rant kind of proved the point, in a way. The raven hadn't raised his voice, and strangely enough didn't get riled by the counter arguments. He just shrugged at them, got to his feet - feeling the need to move, stand, change his line of sight - And with hands tucked deep into pockets he leaned back against the building he sheltered in the shade of.
"Gods, goddesses... I don't really care about who did what several hundred years ago. I wasn't there. Nor, dare I say, was you. What I do care about is what's happening right now."
He spoke quite calmly, and threw a quick glance at Amun before turning his eyes on the horizon. "From where I'm standing, this is what things look like. An outlander appears from nowhere and takes over my homeland. Two years later, that portal opens, and people start flooding in. They begin to poke their noses into things they don't understand. They screw up, and as a consequence, my people die. The self proclaimed Warden does nothing. Now..." He paused, pursing his lips. "You could argue that none that is any of your business. But I gotta ask... Where was my choice in any of this? When was I consulted, when did you ask what I thought before you slammed open a door into my house?"
Despite the slight emphasis on a few words, Korbin's tone was almost cool as he spoke, and as he turned fully towards the other man, he looked more curious than anything else.
"Did your people ever consider the consequences your actions might have on the place you invade? Do you feel any responsibility at all for the deaths your 'restoration' bring on?"
Is but a dim-remembered story Of the old time entombed.
Watching as Korbin stood up and began to pace, Amun just remained seated where he was. As the other man grew angry, the potter's expression remained neutral. "From where I'm sitting, I was brought into this world without a choice in the matter." However, his voice was quiet.
For a long moment, he was silent. Then he sighed. "I had nothing to do with the Warden. Or with the portal opening in your land to begin with. However, I'm sorry for any deaths that directly resulted from the portals opening. This is the first I'm hearing of them." His tone was genuinely apologetic.
"If you wish to prevent further changes, then yes, you do have a choice. You could seal off the entrance to the portal. Collapse the tunnel and prevent anyone else from using it." The Ascended were done in Halo anyway.
And round about his home the glory That blushed and bloomed,
He didn't feel angry, nor did he mean to come off as such, but perhaps his words and posture were sharp enough to give that impression.
"Very few people are given a choice on what or where they are born into," Korbin said with faint amusement. "And it's hardly an option to close the portal, when every other means of communication with the continent has been cut off since it appeared. You don't happen to know the cause of that?" He cocked his head aside in a birdlike manners, hoping for some theory at least.
"I'm not saying any of it is your fault personally," he pointed out, "but if you choose to identify yourself solely as one thing, you should be prepared to shoulder everything that comes with it. I'm attuned, but that doesn't mean I'm about to defend the Gods for every action they've ever made. If you plan on fighting that kind of battle, I suggest you start considering the consequences of your choices."
How many portals had been opened? How many more remained? How many lives would be forever altered, lost and destroyed because of a few thoughtless fanatics charging blindly ahead?
And for what?
"We've strayed quite far from the original topic... I believe I askwd about how you stay so cool in this heat? It's got something to do with being ascended, I take it..."
Is but a dim-remembered story Of the old time entombed.
As Korbin went on to explain what he'd actually meant, Amun sighed. "Few people are as discerning as you, I'm afraid." He shrugged. "I've been met with scorn and fear, distrust and prejudice pretty much everywhere I've gone, simply because I was made into something I had no choice over." HIs hands clenched into fists before he relaxed them.
"I have not been responsible for any of the deaths of which you speak. As for change, well, the portal to Halo was opened just when I arrived in Caido, and I had nothing to do with opening it." Nor had he had anything to do with clearing the path. "So no, I am not responsible for this new world." Letting out a huff of bitter laughter, he met the other man's gaze squarely. "The storms are the result of the old gods. The higher ones, specifically. I suggest you take it up with them if you are displeased."
Lifting an arm, the potter waved it vaguely in the air. "It's a side effect of the Ascension. Our bodies are altered. We don't react to temperature, or physical sensations at all, really."
