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!
She takes the bucket and gets to work collecting the vibrant feathers, settling them into the container as Sunjata works to saw away at the horn. It takes some time, and her question is aired sometime in the middle of that, a slight hum of amusement from Sunjata with it as he imagines how Nate might go about it. “I’m sure some of the locals will help.” He offers, pausing as he sets the first horn on the counter beside him and shifting the creature just enough to start working on the other side.
“And if not, well, I guess he’ll have his work cut out for him testing it out.” He snorts, a light chuckle leaving him before he sets the teeth of the saw on the next horn and pauses. “I suppose he’s got a test subject at the ready, though.” He looks toward her with a raise of his brow – some childish amusement slipping through his accented tones, before he starts sawing again. He can only imagine how it might end up going – with his wonderful tendency of getting stuck and in a fair amount of shit as of late. It only seemed likely that Nate would have plenty of opportunities to test one thing or two out.
we were young, dumb, taking our chance and making romance and breaking our promises trying to be and failing miserably, but am i too late or hearts to your spades?
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.
Like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins
Feathers plucked, collecting silently in the bucket, an array of hues and blends, pondering if Nate would need all of them, or if she’d have a chance to make something with them. The response thereafter though, with all its implications, caused her to snort and arch a brow in his direction.
They were very similar in their aspects of impulse, impetuous notions, sometimes completely absent of all thought, but Sunjata had managed to find his way into almost every event conceivable (not limited to dragons, stabbings, weddings, and whatever else she wasn’t aware of). The honeybee youth had meant it when she said she’d followed him to Safrin, in and amongst Halo’s terrain, to simply stop him from doing something stupid. Maybe she should’ve been doing it more – a physical blockade of motion, vitriol, and abhorrence. She’d been occupied with her own comings and goings, training to become stronger, a defiant little piece of flame and fury.
And for what? To watch her family continue to be marred?
“You know, you don’t have to throw yourself into every dangerous situation.” Ignoring the fact that it would apply to her too, head down as she concentrated on the plumes. “I’m sure Nate would appreciate it.” On that note, she turned her head, wrinkled her nose, and stuck her tongue out at him.
She works swiftly on the other side of the creature now that they have it shifted over – and he works to saw away at the second horn – the only thing accompanying them is the sound of that, the birds outside, and the quiet tones of Melita’s voice as she utters something he’s absolutely prepared to throw back at her one of these days. Today, however? Isn’t that day. “Oh but it’s so fun.” He offers her, pausing to laugh – because really it had rarely ended up in fun and instead more stupid things that had gone on.
Instead, he focuses entirely on finishing the last bit of the horn before he’s setting it aside and grabbing another bucket to help her defeather the rest of it. “I’m his best patient, you know.” Sunjata offers easily, focusing on the feathers he’s removing, before his steel gaze slips up to try and seek out her face with an equally childish wiggle of his brow and rogue smirk that crosses his face.
But the feathers are added to the bucket easily, the horns collected into it as well, and then he grabs the knives required to start sectioning the creature – again letting her have her pick of where she’d prefer to start first.
we were young, dumb, taking our chance and making romance and breaking our promises trying to be and failing miserably, but am i too late or hearts to your spades?
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.
Like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins
Fun to get himself involved in dramatics, theatrics, bloodshed, and death? If Melita paused for a moment, or self-reflected, granted and given a slight snippet of self-awareness, she might’ve not badgered on. Instead, she tilted her head back to look at him as if he’d sprouted three heads. “That’s one of the dumbest things I’ve ever heard.”
Shaking her head, full of mock-disappointment, she continued plucking until all the feathers had wound up in the bucket, and the ramphire was stark and bereft before them. Before she could even start applying knife skills to the test, he let out another comment that had her sighing, rolling her eyes, and wrinkling her nose. “Gross.” She liked Nate well enough, but she’d endured enough of Sunjata’s overt tendencies towards flirtation when Maea was still alive, and had no intention of reliving it.
The youth then had to apply actual concentration to her task, the carving sanction in her grasp, the finest bit of power and prestige binding her to attention. Grabbing hold of another bucket for future contents, either edible or set aside for whatever else, she placed it beneath the carcass. Then, without much preamble, she cut a line down the sanction of the stomach, as they’d often do with deer.
Melita’s pause grants Sunjata another huff of laughter, settling as he begins to move the feathers and the buckets to the side to make room for more knives so they could get to carving. “Only one of them?” He teases her back, settling into some sort of comfortable banter with the youth, pleased more and more that the young woman and his relationship is lighter… Better than it has been in quite some time.
Though of course it never keeps him from uttering that quiet laugh once more when she rolls her eyes and wrinkles her nose, the comment of ‘gross’ hitting her ears with a widely amused smirk. He half wonders if he should tell Melita about Nate and his little agreement, the marriage yet not quite a marriage, and wondering how she might take it – if she’ll think he’s just another passing fling, another face that’ll soon disappear.
It dies from his thoughts as she’s picking up a bucket and a knife, starting with the stomach and Sunjata follows through beside her to remove the entrails into the buckets, pausing to keep some of them separated for Haai and whatever else the griffin might want. “How are your Korofi lessons going?” He asks her while they work, steel gaze slipping over toward her with a raise of his brow.
we were young, dumb, taking our chance and making romance and breaking our promises trying to be and failing miserably, but am i too late or hearts to your spades?
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.
Like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins
Even now, she looked upon her uncle with a glance that could’ve peeled paint from a wall, eyes narrowed and pinched, face incredulous, and then ultimately shaking her head, mildly disappointed that that was all she’d received in rebuttal. She sneered and snorted thereafter, adjusting her attentions to the animal before them, hands instantly within to peel away some of the organs, dropping them into a nearby bucket, not for one moment squeamish, though possibly regretting not tying her hair back into place.
She would’ve worked in silence, unaware of any of the thoughts going through Sunjata’s head, content to unravel portions and parts. They were vastly similar to deer, which she’d cut on numerous occasions, and went about, utilizing tools, pondering over where they’d eventually be draining the blood, when his question rang through her ears.
Melita had the wherewithal to look a little chagrined and sheepish when the answer rebounded from her mouth, not turning to face him, stare intentionally riveted on the ramphire. “Um, not great…” another pause, some excuse spiraling through her mind. “I’ve been busy.” In between combat, wandering through the Rae's Fingers, and subsequent other trainings, parties, gatherings, and the like, language had taken a backseat.
Oh, her face when he questions her is one step in his own amusement. He almost wants to tell her that she asked for that sort of answer – but he doesn’t say it, knowing he could’ve dived in further and deeper with it, but choosing not to. Instead, he simply takes the small victory that neither of them seemed to make the right choices at the end of the day, but at least they were choices. And that mattered.
But they make work relatively easy though. The organs easily moved, the internals easily pulled, and when it comes to getting rid of the blood – Sunjata drags over a bucket, shifting the table a small amount with a wheel and pully sort of mechanism to angle it so gravity could do its work. And he listens while he does this to Melita’s comment of it not going well – and he understands, she has been busy.
It still doesn’t stop the slightly amused smirk from crossing his face. “Nate’s picked up on it pretty well. So next time we’re all together if you wanna talk shit about someone in front of their faces, we can all be a part of it.” He flashes her a wink, leaning forward with a knife to start to drain the animal.
we were young, dumb, taking our chance and making romance and breaking our promises trying to be and failing miserably, but am i too late or hearts to your spades?
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.
Like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins
She chose not to comment any further, tending to the work instead, watching her uncle bring over a bucket for the blood, angling, wedging, ensuring gravity could take hold and pour the ichor into place. The youth stepped back while he persisted, only lifting a brow with as much poise and dignity as she could muster; suddenly envious Nate might’ve picked up more of the language than her. A quiet little huff escaped her mouth, and she watched the life-force flow, ignoring the quip for the moment. “What’re you going to do with the blood?” Was there a medicinal purpose there too, or something else altogether?
Then she sighed, winding back to the forefront, while putting away some of the tools she didn’t require any longer, moving some buckets out of the way to make room for new ones. “I suppose. Do we have a common enemy nowadays?” Someone they all hated and despised? Kiada was reserved specially for her distinct abhorrence.
The question of what he’ll do with the blood causes him to pause slightly, a small smile crossing his face. “Nothing really. I keep some of it because Haai likes it.” He rumbles, shoulders rising and falling in a small shrug as he takes the buckets of feathers and horns and sets them aside. “Good for her coat, I think.” He offers her before he leans against the counter to wait for the animal to finish draining.
The next question though has a wide smirk crossing his face. Something challenging and devilish in nature when his gaze finds her again. “Common? I don’t know. I’ve got a few enemies out there though.” He hums, leaving it open for her to question the simplicity of ‘just a few’ versus however many out there Sunjata actively thought were against him. But he waits, gaze lingering on her as if he’s waiting for her inevitable rebuttal, only moving when the bucket begins to fill too much to hold to slide another within reach.
we were young, dumb, taking our chance and making romance and breaking our promises trying to be and failing miserably, but am i too late or hearts to your spades?
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.
Like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins
It made sense that the griffin would enjoy the ichor, causing the youth to pause in thought as the buckets were collected, drawn back and forth again. “Hm. Could Fangorn try some?” The vampire gourd’s mere circumstance, existence, and namesake claimed some insurgency in the world – and though he’d never gone after anyone without Melita’s permission, he must’ve been missing a key nutrient in his diet. The companion, likely overhearing, bounded from his nest and came careening into the venue, vines askew, a hefty grumble ricocheting and reverberating forth, eager to try, but waiting for permission.
Otherwise, she was free to lean against the counter, biding their time until the life-force had been sufficiently drained, and they could continue on their cutting. She managed to snort at Sunjata’s comment, asinine because they both knew it was more than a few, and some part of her was a little disappointed she hadn’t gained more. What on earth had she been trying to accomplish anyway? “Pick one or two. We can come up with some crude nicknames.”
Melita’s pause draws Sunjata’s eye, shifting a small amount as he regards her and the question. “Sure.” He offers, flashing her a small grin. It’s not like he’s saving it for anything else, after all. So he moves through the room, reaching into a cupboard to grab a shallow bowl, holding it under the draining animal and once it’s sufficiently filled enough, he sets the bowl down in front of Fangorn, offering the gourd a small smirk. “Don’t get sick, okay?” He says to the vampire gourd, before he’s moving to lean back against the counter again and wait.
Her question of picking one or two has him mulling it over. There’s a low hum slipping from his lips, not unlike a small ‘hmm’ sound. “Well… There’s quite a few to choose from.” He muses. Deimos and Delphia come to mind, unsure if they really classify as an enemy, but they disliked him just about as much as he disliked them. Then, after a moment, a small thought crosses his mind too. “Amun hates me a pretty decent amount.” His arms fold across his chest, steel gaze flickering toward Melita, waiting to see what she comes up with.
we were young, dumb, taking our chance and making romance and breaking our promises trying to be and failing miserably, but am i too late or hearts to your spades?
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.
Like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins
Fangorn, relishing the opportunity, rushed forward and despite the warning, fervently sipped and sloshed, slobbering a majority of it on the floor. While Melita sighed and went to clean it up, the gourd didn’t seem to care, gobbling the ichor down with aplomb and satisfaction. A grumble followed thereafter, of contentment, one would hope and derive, before he sauntered off into a corner, to either quietly digest and nap. The youth snorted, a light shrug once she’d picked up the remnants of the bowl. “Guess that was successful.” Maybe it’d been the length of time in between true, bloodied feedings, and for some reason she felt a pang of regret, somewhere immersed in the back of her mind.
But they moved forward, and the youth arched a brow as he seemed to wonder, peruse over his lists of enemies. Of all the names that could’ve spiraled through, for some reason she didn’t expect the named Ascended. “Amun? Why?” Perhaps she’d missed something there – head spiraling around, striving to understand occurrences, other parameters she remained blissfully unaware of. The honeybee girl rather enjoyed him, and so ignored the fact that she was supposed to be spinning up lines of insults at him.
There’s a raise of his brow and quite a lot of amusement with the mess Fangorn makes as he devours the blood. At least there’s some use for it after all, settling a small amount against the counter and watching as Melita cleans up the mess and sets the bowl in a space where it can be cleaned. “We can save some for him for the next time he’s hungry.” Sunjata offers, flashing her a small grin as he already prepares to set one of the buckets aside – some place where they could either freeze it or keep it cold so it doesn’t go bad.
But instead, the creature begins to stop draining and he goes to grab a couple knives to work on breaking the creature down while he listens to Melita question why Amun disliked him. His attention focuses on the animal while he speaks. “Upset with me about moving on so quick after Maea.” He offers, positive that’s the reason why. “Other than that, your guess is as good as mine.” He shrugs, using a rather large knife to slam down in the space between the vertebra of the spine to behead the creature.
we were young, dumb, taking our chance and making romance and breaking our promises trying to be and failing miserably, but am i too late or hearts to your spades?
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.
Like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins
“I think he’d like that,” she laughed, once she was done cleaning up the ichor mess, watching and snorting as the pumpkin licked its lips, and general exterior, while he settled in for repose and rest after his massive meal. “What next?” Gave over the implications of the next task, her knife back in her hands, ready to carve and slash.
The implications of Amun’s anger towards her uncle were tad on the ridiculous side (and disappointing, in the wake of enemies – at least hers had justifications). Though she hadn’t enjoyed Maea’s company, how tightly the woman’s grip has been on the Flood, the disgusting flirting displays, and overall pale, ghostly essence (as if she had no fiber, no mettle, no grit, no gut, floating on wisps of air, smoke, and fumes), she hadn’t wished the woman dead. She also wasn’t going to begrudge the notion of Sunjata finding someone else thereafter. “What are you supposed to do, mourn for eternity?” And while she didn’t believe Maea worth lamenting for long, everyone was entitled to their own arrays of grief.
Her head shook, a sigh bristling through, uncertain if it was frustration and anger for him, or just the entire situation. “You somehow manage to gather an awful lot of people who should mind their own business.” She didn’t include herself in this, of course, given that she was family, and meant to be an irritating, nettling, nuisance. But Melita was also a protective, shielding threshold, ready to burn down worlds for the sake of her kin. "Nuuskierige bliksem".
