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!
Laser beams we're about to awesome all your dreams
Decision made (and thoroughly unhappy about it), Wessex exits the Safehouse and heads for the tree in the Woodlands. While she’d said there would be no ill will for the choice, and she’d managed it for Neron’s reasoning, Sam’s notion that he knows best, that he’s saving them is infuriating and the Wraith figures its best to give him a wide berth right now.
The tree is easier to find. She waits for the rest for the rest to trickle in after her and when they’re all there, she says loud enough for all to hear, “Lady, we’ve come to a decision regarding the Monsters. We choose to let them live and take the upgrades.” There is no doubt in her mind that that is the choice the Voice wanted them to make - it’s a win win for their Goddess. Inevitable loss for them. And how it’ll play out is anybody’s guess.
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No need to all post before the Voice shows up unless you want to post. You only need ONE post in this thread for it to count as ‘being there.’ Thanks!
Amun had stalked out of the Safehouse without another word. Though he'd glared at Samuel, what was done was done. The potter just followed Wessex to the shrine that she'd spoken of. Honestly, he'd never visited it before. Under other circumstances, he'd have been interested to see yet another one of their goddess' holy places.
As it stood, anger at the bookmaker's cowardice burned within him. Standing by the Wraith's side, Amun went entirely still, not even breathing. Even the promise of being in the Voice's presence soon wasn't enough to banish his rage. Already upset beforehand, this whole fucking ordeal had pushed him straight into a fury that he'd rarely felt before.
Given that Neron had only been privy to Wessex's mental messages once before, he did not realise that a lack of acknowledgement was in any way a slight against him. Following through the night with his hands in his pockets, the Warden stood some way back from the shrine, waiting expectantly for the Voice.
Whether or not their apparent decision was the right one was beyond him - and nor did he expect that Wessex would need their vote to be unanimous. So it seemed they would be getting shiny new upgrades rather than ridding the Hollowed Grounds of monsters he had never seen. All the better for him, in the long run.
Letha moved quickly and silently to keep pace with the others. She did not know where to go on her own to make it to the shrine, so she did not want to fall behind. The tension between the Ascended was almost tangible to her, and it forced her silence. They had chosen not to fight. Or, rather, had been directed not to fight by Wessex because the entire family did not agree. Letha did not know a family to ever wholly agree on anything, ever. But, this family was still new to her, so she did not argue that fact.
Aside from the tension she felt between these new comrades of hers, Letha's own personal tension was growing. Finally, after having many others tell her of the Voice and that she needed to go see her, Letha was being led to a place where the goddess would hopefully make herself known. Anticipation crawled along her skin like insects, and it made her feel more antsy than normal. Her fingers incessantly tugged at the sleeve of her shirt, and she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She waited, expectantly and nervously, standing slightly behind Amun.
It wasn’t the answer she had been hoping for, but she still takes Bastien’s hand and squeezes it tightly – searching out Clemente in the group to give him a light squeeze on his shoulder as well. But she follows the rest of them – filing through and relatively silent as they all make their way through the woods to the shrine that sits therein.
She can’t help but to wonder why they couldn’t agree – why it couldn’t be worth the fight. To save people that weren’t entirely people to begin with – prior products of what they’ve become. She can’t imagine a place where they would’ve kept things like that around. But, alas, it wasn’t unanimous, and so they face another hard and challenging Longnight of losing friends to the monsters that roamed the night. To those that kept the souls of lovers and friends away from Mort. To those that taunted and toyed at memories many didn’t want relived.
Though Osozo had not particularly cared which way the vote went, there was still an undeniable sense of disappointment in the family. Disappointment and quiet hostility. It was tense enough to keep even their mouth shut as they walked beside Wessex, eyes forward to catch sight of the shrine before they came upon it. To catch the closest sight of the Voice when she came to them. Osozo wondered how she would react, if she pretend to be disappointed for the sakes of those who had wanted the vote to go the other way.
Confine me let me be the lesser of a beautiful man without the blood on his hands
Despite the fact that Nate didn't actually expect them to get anywhere, too many contrary souls in the ascended family to ever agree on anything, he was still irritated. Irritated at being summoned here for what felt like nothing, irritated to have had to clash horns with Sam, irritated that they didn't come to a consensus, irritated that they had to move along to a secondary location now.
There was an effort to put on a brave face though, to not just glower and moan, spurred mostly by the kid beside him. Nate all but insisted on walking next to Clem, his shoulder bumping into the younger now and then, and it kept something neutral on his face, something closer to a grin than a scowl. When they reached the shrine, the tree far too familiar, Nate kept to the edge of the group, near the back, and glared at it.
Clem is glad that Nate sticks so close as they travel from their safehouse to the shrine. He doesn't have the same wisdom and experience as his elders do, and his emotions feel volatile and too-big for his body. Like he's going to rip apart at the seams at any moment in a display of fury at the unfairness of it all. Nate's presence helps temper that urge, and the gentle squeeze to his shoulder that Rexanna gives at least produces a small smile from the boy.
He doesn't have much to say, if anything at all. Opening his mouth seems like a dangerous thing to do when he's not sure what sort of vitriol will spill out of it. So instead he sits and waits, only partially aware of Nate's glower (though he chalks it up to the man being mad at Sam still) as he hangs back with the taller man on the outskirts of the meeting. It feels wrong to be gifted something when the majority had voted to fight, as if they're being rewarded not only for their cowardice but for the lives they will surely be forfeiting this LongNight. It makes Clem feel sick.
Sam left the safehouse and followed the group silently, giving Wessex as much space as she wanted willingly: he could feel the irritation coming off of her. Walking with his head down and his hands in his pockets he hardly looked like a gloating victor: if anything he wished he could agree with anyone else if only not to be the odd one out.
Well, at least seeing their Goddess might be a pleasant reprieve, if she was alright with the decision that had been made. Trailing along at the end of the group, he leaned against a tree behind everyone else and watched to see if The Voice would appear, hoping she might agree with him about the lack of a need to sacrifice their weak for this cause.
04-22-2020, 09:43 PM (This post was last modified: 04-22-2020, 09:43 PM by Bastien.)
Bastien
Bastien would have made the best of things whatever the decision had been, but it would be lying if he said he wasn't a little secretly glad: with their child on the way, the thought of having to fling themselves into danger right now was one that made him feel slightly ill. Rexanna already had a tendency to turn up half-dead.
Heading to the shrine he held her hand tight and looked around to each member of their little family, trying to remember who was there and in what order: he was sure soon enough it would be smaller, one way or another.
She appears in a sizzle of light. Her mere presence revitalizes them, making their circuits whir with bright energy. It isn't an easy thing, this decision that they've come to, and she's pleased to see so many of them here, taking ownership.
"I know this was not easy." She says, electric gaze looking around, pausing perhaps a moment longer on Sam as she looks around to those assembled. "I could have made it for you of course. I could have told Wessex what needed to be done, or perhaps not mentioned it at all. I could have said that gods work in mysterious ways, could have lied to you..." Again her gaze sweeps across them, a smile for each.
"But I didn't, because we are a family. Nor did I participate, because unlike the gods of the others, it isn't for me to force my will on you. Not when it is you who has to live with the decisions."
Turning towards Wesses, the Voice nods. "What is it you have decided?"
04-27-2020, 07:30 PM (This post was last modified: 04-27-2020, 07:31 PM by Wessex.)
Laser beams we're about to awesome all your dreams
While her presence is revitalizing, the Wraith continues to hold on to her resentment. Oh, she listens and nods and is thankful for the Voice’s words and attetion. Their Lady’s transparency should beget their own. Looking a tad chagrined, but only because she couldn’t bring them all together (fuck you, Sam and Neron). “We couldn’t come to a unanimous decision. Which means we won’t be fighting the LongNight monsters.”
This year, she wants to add, but in her heart she knows that any chance of them coming together to do something like this is so small that it’s far more likely to be a never situation than a not this time situation.
The disappointment, the anger is written across her face even as her tone is carefully neutral. The Voice and whomever stands at her side might be the only ones to see it. She hides nothing from her Lady; not now, not ever.
"Not to be needlessly philosophical here," The Voice says with a tone of apology and a coy smile, "But if you couldn't reach a consensus to fight, does that mean you've reached a consensus not to fight?" The Voice let her gaze linger on those assembled.
'Your task—" This she said to them all, "—was to make a decision. Not to fail to make a decision, and opt to do nothing. As a family you were asked to decide what to do. I just want to be sure that this is in fact a decision you're making."
Sam noticed the Voice's eyes lingering on him as she looked out over all of them; for a moment he feared this confirmed his worst fears, that she had decided him weak for the resistance to the fight he held - though as she continued to speak, he thought it sounded like she might actually be amenable to his points, even if the rest of the Ascended weren't.
It wasn't his turn to speak. He hadn't been asked upon.
But this wasn't normal circumstances, so he spoke up. "I'm sorry mother, but I have to say this. There are so many here who are new, who haven't even experienced a LongNight yet for some of them. Is now really the best time for us to enter a fight with the monsters that have nearly killed some of the strongest of us? It feels like we would be willingly throwing away our family members for the sake of a better reputation with the other races." Stepping forward, he took a deep breath: talking up was not easy for him.
"Wessex may be alright with that sacrifice, but I'm not comfortable silently standing here while it seems everyone else is willing to let unknowing new members...be slaughtered. And they will be." The last words were quiet and sad; he was angry, he was frustrated, but most of all he was scared and upset.
