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!
Oh, as Deimos’ grin turns positively devilish, Kiada’s sharpens as well as she nears her chair to claim for the game to start. Any excuse or attempt to try and beat the Sword at something was an opportunity Kiada couldn’t miss – though she supposes she’d have to make do if he does indeed win, considering it is his wedding after all. Still, she doesn’t make it easy for him, waiting for the music to stop as she bounds around –
And then it does, and she swiftly dives toward her own chair, iceberg gaze flickering around to see who’d gotten out, flashing them wide grins before looking toward Deimos and letting her grin sharpen even further. A quick glance given toward Weaver in her own amusement, before she settles and readies herself for the next round. The only thing on her mind at this present moment is snagging a chair and devouring her fill of cake.
to you, everything tastes like blood
Kiada has a large X scar on the right side of her neck.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Kiada, without killing her <3
I pray to blades of grass
To find forgiveness in the weeds
Well, that didn't take long. Sam was actually quite glad to be an early out though as it meant he longer had to deal with the social minefield of musical chairs (was it polite to give up your chair to the hosts? What did you do if you accidentally sat on someone's lap?). He gave Oliver a weak smile, but was more keen to go and eat the cake than spend time talking to anyone.
Perhaps he didn't need food, but he'd always had a bit of a sweet tooth, and the cake was delicious. Watching the game continue he ate with delicate bites, catching crumbs with a napkin.
Remi's better half had been the one who couldn't decide what jacket to wear (read: had not wanted to go to the Hollowed Grounds and had had to remind himself over and over again that it was not about him). He had also been distracted somewhat by the familiarity of the streets, by the sight of the bakery, and had thus missed much of the celebrations - and the chance to go ahead and say congratulations with his husband.
But he was there, watching quietly by as they played musical chairs, keeping an eye out for Remi so he could apologise for disappearing, and an even sharper eye out for Deimos and Amalia, so he could super apologise for disappearing. The Grounds did a number on him, it turned out. Better prepare for Longnight. But for now, at least, this was a moment of peace and jubilance, and he tried to enjoy it.
Amun had arrived late, a slightly forced smile on his face. Slipping in he scanned the inside of the bakery. Not wanting to interrupt the festivities, he headed towards the corners. As the music wound on, he spotted Deimos and Amalia unsurprisingly in the thick of things.
Also spotting Ronin, the potter's eyes narrowed. Moving towards the opposite end of the room from the Dark Star, Amun held his wrapped gift carefully. Waiting patiently for a break in the game, and a chance to snatch the newlyweds away for a moment, he tapped his foot to the beat and just watched for now.
They dance around the chairs and each other, laughing and smiling and enjoying the moment. It isn't until she scrambles into a seat - claiming it despite Kiada and Deimos' competitive natures, laughing merrily at the wicked ambition in their eyes - that she catches sight of Ronin and Amun standing in their own corners, not yet greeted and apart from the crowd.
So when the next round comes she makes a point of being too slow to snag a chair, snapping her fingers in mock-indignation before hitching up her skirts to meet the other guests. Amun first, the Ascended being rather forlorn in appearance, isolated on a day that shouldn't be isolating. With a smile as bright as starlight the Shield greets her strange, unlikely friend: "It's good to see you! I'm... I'm glad you came, especially after..."
And she trails off bashfully, remembering their spar and his reaction to her fire with a chagrined smile and a vibrant flush.
Amalia will throw the next round of musical chairs to go talk to Amun
took the stars from our eyes and then i made a map i knew that somehow we would find our way back
Jigano eyed Deimos , Weaver , and Kiada with a knowing chuckle, all three warriors and friends who would make the last rounds a chaos-filled free-for-all of wicked mischief if allowed. And while he couldn't actually stop them, he could try and minimize the damage to the furniture and surrounding party-goers.
"Let's make this a little more challenging, shall we?" The question was rhetorical as he stole a chair and pushed it towards Ronin with a smile. "Can you grab this for me?" Then there were two chairs remaining... and he took one of them as well, ushering off in the direction of the cakes. "One last round, for all the glory! Three shall enter, but only one... shall sit!" With that grand proclamation he settled down and struck the harp with practiced fingers, calling the music forth again. This time he started at the previous tempo but slowly increased it, letting the contenders prowl round and round and round again. After a little while he closed his eyes so that he couldn't see who was where in relation to the chair, and after a few more bars...
The music stopped.
And Kiada sat upon the makeshift throne, winner and new champion.
Challenges in music and movement, instead of swordplay, munitions, and arms; but Deimos had always been one stoked and fueled by almost any form of instigation. Laughing amidst the revelry with Weaver and Kiada, the remnants of their party as Amalia meandered off (an arch to his brow as he watched her leave, only to see her slip over to Amun), they continued along within the serenade and song, until Jigano insisted only one lingered.
And despite any tactics he might’ve tried to muster, in the end, Kiada was swifter, faster, quicker than them all, the champion of the leftovers. He snorted, a roll to his eyes, but left the distinction dignified, purposefully rubbing one hand over the top of her head. “Congratulations.” A shrug of his shoulders indicated he wasn’t truly bothered (he’d lost far more before), and then the beast sought to remove the remaining chairs out of the way.
Thereafter though, certain duties were to be upheld. The first was to Ronin, threading his way towards the Dark Star, at enough of a distance to extend a drink in hand towards the other. “Glad you could make it.” The Sword didn’t pierce any weight into late arrivals. The world was busy, and he remained content in the knowledge that at least they all chose to partake in the festivities, before segmenting back into their thresholds of preparation and frozen wares.
He only turned his head slightly from Ronin when he spied Evie again, attempting to catch her eye, using the inclination of his cranium to indicate a beckoning.
She’s ready when the next round begins, doing her best to try and linger ever so slightly by the chair for when Jigano’s music stops. And for a few moments, she’s half expecting to miss out as she darts around the back of the chair. But when she rounds to the front once more and the music stops, and she slides her ass into that chair, she snickers brilliantly with delight – eyes immediately seeking Deimos to catch the roll of his eyes before his large calloused hand is patting her on the head and she puffs out some sigh of her own.
Well that was far less climactic than she was expecting. So she turns to Weaver then, a wide grin crossing her face. “I’ll share the left overs with you if we can prank the married man somehow.” Something wicked crosses her face with that before she sits up from the chair and smooths down her dress a small amount and flashes Weaver a brighter grin, hands outstretched. "How about that dance in the meantime?" Now that she's been crowned victorious, and there were still guests hovering over her winnings, well... What else was she to do other than wait?
to you, everything tastes like blood
Kiada has a large X scar on the right side of her neck.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Kiada, without killing her <3
Glancing up at the sight of Deimos (and really, how could you miss him), Ronin had just about gotten hold of the chair that Jigano sent his way, guarding it as he gave a warm smile to the groom.
"Glad to be here," he said, and despite all that had happened and his thorny relationship with the Hollowed Ground, he meant it. "Congratulations, both of you. Amalia looks radiant, and you aren't half bad yourself." He tipped the General a wink.
"You're doing better than Remi and I so far, too. At our wedding I don't think I could even see at this point." He laughed.
As Amalia approached, Amun's smile managed to grow less forced and more genuine. It still wasn't quite as bright as it had been once upon a time. As she trailed off, he waved away her apology (well, sort of apology).
"Water far under the bridge. And none of that bashfulness now. You do know what's supposed to happen on the wedding night, right?" Chuckling, he winked playfully at her.
Then his expression grew more serious. Unwrapping his present, it revealed a wooden box. However, the real gift was inside. "I made these for you. Both of you." If she opened the box, she'd find sets of plates, bowls, and cups. On each of them was a sword hidden behind a shield, with stars adoring the rest of the space, painted in vibrant colors. "Congratulations, kitty."
i'll plant a row of daisy seeds in the space beneath each eye
It's amusing to watch the festivities from the sidelines, waving away any who try to pull her into the raucous game. She laughs behind a hand as Sam and Deimos are immediately thrown out of the first round, amused by that particular turn of events. Watching until it comes to a high-intensity close, leaving Kiada as the winner of the cakes they have made.
Deimos is surrounded by others, but the way he tilts his crown in a beckoning motion is enough to have her waiting for an appropriate time to insert herself among the men at his sides. "You summoned?" she teases playfully as she moves closer, idly adjusting the skirt of her dress to lay better against her skin. Whatever it is he has called her over for, she's sure it's important. Deimos isn't the type to mince words.
so they'll remind you of your beauty when they bloom each time you cry
The game is actually rather short, as Amalia drops out and Jigano takes away yet another chair. Well, one round left it is, and soon enough it’s Kiada’s butt on that chair. Weaver might fight harder if it had been Deimos, willing to gang up on him with Kiada to declare one of them the victor instead, but she won’t shove Kiada from the chair.
Besides, as Kiada turns to her looking to prank Deimos, Weaver can only grin. ”Sold,” she says, leaning closed to Kiada and dropping her voice a bit. ”What did you have in mind?” Her new-found friend gets up off the chair, suggesting they go dance. With nothing better to do, and never saying no to a good dance, Weaver smiles and nods, offering a hand to Kiada to lead her to the dance floor like proper partners.
Weaver leads, or maybe is led (either way, she doesn’t care) to the dance floor, casting a look over to Jigano, hoping for a lively tune.
WEAVER
but the rest of us are trying to pretend it’s a party
Game complete, Jigano set about moving the chairs back where they had come from so minglers and snackers could make use of the seats, whether they were pulling them together to chat or just pulling up a chair to eat more of the delicious cake. With that complete he turned to look out over the festive and light-hearted gathering, a grin on his face, only to catch Weaver's eye. Seeing her partnering the winner of the game, he reached for his harp once more and settled in at the corner of the little dance floor. Isuma trilled excitedly, dancing in a small circle as he stretched his fingers, then struck a chord on the harp to call any other would-be dancers from their pursuits.
A lively tune, to get toes tapping and inspire a little movement to work off that cake, he decided, and bent over his lap harp, fingers poised. A moment's consideration had the perfect song plucked from his repertoire, and in the next breath he dropped fingers to strings to call forth the music, cheerful and bright, with a good rhythm for a rambunctious country dance, or a couple's more energetic swing 'round the floor.
Glad to be here surprised him, especially coming from Ronin, with the past trials circumventing the Grounds, and the Dark Star’s involvement in it. But perhaps that was reflected in tonight’s festivities, a celebration of joviality in spite of everything else bearing down on them. In yesteryears, the Reaper had difficult in ever finding anything remotely worth celebrating, save for victory on the battlefield – and here the Sword found himself immersed in things he’d never thought of having. His eyes widened at the compliment, shrugging his shoulders, shaking his head. “Thank you. Feel free to have some cake before Kiada snags it all.” At the tones of laughter, the insinuations of drunken statures, the General snorted, but managed to maintain his smile. “I wanted to remember it.” To treasure and cherish, when the world became infinitely darker and colder.
Attention meandered away from Ronin momentarily, and onto Evie’s approach, the healer managing to comprehend his silent summoning. His tones were a little more hushed, and only because they concerned diplomacy, and political matters; almost an offense to be lacquered into the party. “I did.” He paused momentarily, just to see of if he could get a rise, before continuing. “Phoebe has gone to Torchline, and the Health Advisor position is open. The council wondered if you would be interested.” Evie had been originally, but things altered, changed, as swiftly as tides or the wind.
