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!
James' grin only widens as Zeph cuts his finger on a protruding shard of glass. "Bet if y'take that to the ascended doc, he'll suck it all better for ya." The thief suggests, all shit-eating-smiles and waggly brows.
"Bangin' is what I do at work all day long." James' protests, looking at the hammers with a sniff of disdain. But oil? Lubing things up? Well..that too is something he does at the Haulani, but it isn't as easy to make a joke out of, so he opts for that.
Dripping some of the oil down his bare chest, the thief begins to bear-hug the crates in order to coat them. At one point he's on his back, dripping oil onto himself like Dyonisis, his fingers making circles around his nipples as his hips gyrate up and down. "Like this, yeah Zeph?" He calls brightly, almost positive he's doing a fucking fantastic job.
James oils himself the crates
"HOLD THE FUCK UP" I say. I'm the fuck up. Please hold me.
Tying off boats felt like a task delegated to grunts with nothing important to do, but Olavi wouldn't complain if Nerissa didn't; she often did things he did not understand for a greater purpose and he had long ago accepted she had the better judgement. She had wanted to come and help in this endeavour, so he would too.
Grabbing a rope connected to one of the boats, he swam to where he knew there was a small cave along the coastline, just under the beginning of Haulani's buildings: Nerissa would know of this place too, the spot a convenient place for Mers to store things or stay during visits to the human city. There would be a cover here, rocks to secure the boats between, and they would be hidden from any greedy thieves looking for an opportunity.
08-07-2020, 05:27 PM (This post was last modified: 08-10-2020, 08:21 PM by Shark.)
Elias
Elias rubbed his cheek, cursing under his breath as he rejoined the others. He quickly decides that putting supplies into barrels and crates and hammering them shut is the easiest option, flashing a smirk towards James' antics, as he sets to work.
"That's absolutely what he meant," he muttered, rolling his eyes. He sounded amused, though with Elias it could sometimes be hard to tell. He divided his tasks up, placing supplies into barrels and crates first, before he set to work hammering them shut. All the while, ignoring his cheek, which still stung. His own stupidity was to blame, honestly. He'd known where the traps were, and should have watched himself carefully.
Welcome to Wonderland, I'll be your guide.
Holding your hand under sapphire skies,
Let's go exploring or we could just go for a walk.
In the blackened waters of conceit I saw my silhouette, pale and bleached
A brow rises as the others wander back from their tasks, some noticeably beaten up after the experience. Nerissa lifts a slow hand to cover her mouth, her eyes terribly gentle and concerned, so long as her smile stayed hidden. While she's still skeptical of this group, she wants to keep some amount of decorum, wants to have keep cards clutched close to her chest.
This sense is all that keeps her mouth closed at the next tasks are doled out. If she could read her beloved's mind, she would agree. Moving boats is grunt work. She has people who tell other people to do these sorts of tasks. She has to remind herself that this is in the name of forging new connections, strengthening old ones. Their operation is growing, changing, and Nerissa will not allow herself to be left behind.
She takes hold of a rope as well, tugging the boat along after Olavi, realizing quickly what his intention is. The spot is near perfect, a lip protecting everything beneath it from the driving rain, the pounding waves, though there is just enough of a clearance for the boats to make it through unscathed. There was the small caveat that the area could only be accessed by mer, but seeing as both and Olavi were mer, it's not a thought that occurred to her.
They return in tandem, dragging the final boat along to their hiding space and getting it tucked away, then returning for the next set of instructions, the next tasks required to get this up and off the ground.
Elias proves his experience and dependency when it comes to loading and prepping the containers, while James is surprisingly effective at oiling up the barrels... and himself. Leaving him largely to his own devices, it isn't until he calls your name that you look up from your own task and find him thoroughly drenched in the slick stuff. Which, honestly, is what you should have expected. You roll your eyes with a good-natured chuckle. "Glad ye'll be safe from th'rain, at least."
The mers, meanwhile, are a mixed bag. Perhaps because of her disdain for the task Nerissa does a rather lackluster job with her knots and placement; luckily Olavi is along to more than pick up the slack. He manages to secure the boats with impressive skill. They aren't going anywhere.
Less impressive are you. For whatever reason your knots are lacking, and nothing seems to go your way. Your hands slip as you try to secure the ropes, the stakes you hammer in just bend, and you're going to have to do another run of it if you want it done right. Idiot.
But for the others. Rising up from your (far more difficult than it should have been) task, you look your crew over. "Kay. Now we're gon' make things fun." Once again into the box, this time emerging with three pieces of chalk and one chalk-like rock that will etch underwater. The latter you pass to the mers, the former to the humans. "Pick a tunnel'r two an' write down some grafitti. I don' care watcha write or draw- jus' make sure th' tunnels that ain't trapped say or have suns on 'em somewhere. That's gonna be th' signal."
You wait for them to express understanding and disperse before making your way down whatever remains.
Mark tunnels with grafitti and code! Untrapped tunnels should have a sun in 'em, either written or drawn. Please let me know which set you're taking and do at least two (mers, some of the ones in the back are partially submerged)
Olavi was so used to following behind Nerissa and helping that he did not notice he was picking up most of the slack, brain set to work mode and his hands moving without much thought other than that he could keep an eye on his love while he was tying the knots. He still didn't trust any of these people as far as he could outswim them, and was always on the alert for anything suspicious.
Listening to the next instructions he assumed he and Nerissa were to head to the underwater tunnels; it would be easiest for them and likely the tunnels they would use later. Taking the rock, he headed in, choosing a spot just within the wall to draw his sun. Olavi was not at all an artist so it was a very simple sketch, just a circle with some sticks to serve as light beams: it would fulfill it's purpose, which was enough.
-----
Olavi takes the underwater tunnels and draws some simple suns.
08-14-2020, 04:46 AM (This post was last modified: 08-14-2020, 05:51 AM by Nerissa.)
In the blackened waters of conceit I saw my silhouette, pale and bleached
If Nerissa noticed her work was sloppy, her knots were loose, she did not say a word, though she did notice her beloved shadow making sure things were done properly. Honestly, what had she ever done without him? She hangs off Olavi's shoulders while the next instructions are laid out, a touch of artistic fun hiding the carefully laid entrances and traps they've set out.
With a single tool to spare between them, Nerissa waited patiently for her lover to etch out his work, gentle lips pressing to his jaw and ear, perhaps distracting him from his task. "Beautiful, dearest." She purred in their shared tongue, before reaching out, first with a tentacle, then with her hand, to take the shalky stone from him.
She may not be an artist either, but she had vision, and a quick hand. Pushing off Olavi, Nerissa etches handfuls of eyes, following the walls of the tunnels while she did. Before long, each tunnel had it's own collection, organized in small groups. Each group in the safe tunnel had at least a single eye with the pupil styled to look like the sun, in addition of Olavi's sketch, it should be more than enough to lead the correct direction, if one knew what to look for.
Nerissa leaves many many doodles around, hiding the sun in her designs.
"Wot?" James' flashes Zeph his best blowjob face (which is to say, your lips forming an O of surprise). "That we were already havin' fun." Huh. James was, anyways.
Well whatever. Off Jame's fucks into the tunnels, whistling merrily. He has a rather brilliant idea for how he's going to render the suns that he needs, only it's going to take a real intellectual to figure it out. What he does, is pull down his pants and cover his ass with chalk. Next, he climbs up on some rocks, high enough above the water-line that it won't be rubbed off, and firmly stamps his ass against the wall. Once he's sure that he's made a perfect imprint, he draws a big 'ol X over it.
The other caves just get random drawings of dicks and titties, because you've only had enough rum for one creative burst today.
James does 2 suns, but in CoDE. If you get it, you get it.
"HOLD THE FUCK UP" I say. I'm the fuck up. Please hold me.
Elias accepted the chalk, heading back to the front tunnels. He began marking the untrapped tunnel haphazardly, spelling 'nus' and drawing a sun behind a design. He finishes marking the walls of the untrapped tunnel, before heading into the trapped one.
He graffittis a bit more carefully in this one, watching where he steps--no need for another mishap in the tunnel he'd trapped, after all. The rest of the cave is randomized doodles, nonsensical lettering. When he is satisfied with his work, he snorts, and heads back towards the group. He was a shit artist, but at least it didn't have to be pretty.
Elias goes down both front tunnels, and decorates them accordingly.
Welcome to Wonderland, I'll be your guide.
Holding your hand under sapphire skies,
Let's go exploring or we could just go for a walk.
You know what? This is going surprisingly okay. Oh sure, you'll have to take the mer's words on the quality of work they're doing, but what you can see is... passable. Sufficient, even.
Finishing out the back tunnels with your own sets of rather abstract suns and a particularly dirty series of jokes culminating in a punchline about sunshine coming out of one's ass, you grunt appreciatively at the collective handiwork of your rag-tag little tribe.
And now, the last step.
Gathering back in the Trading Post, you look over the lot of them approvingly before rummaging through your bag. The items you pull out are as follows:
Five (5) rope bracelets, intricately knotted.
Three (3) rolls of gauze.
Two (2) wooden bowls, one of which you fill with sea water.
One (1) wickedly sharp hunting knife.
The knife glints in the flickering light. Holding it up above the bowl, you intone your final request. "Alright. Now. Those'a us here in the guild - an' anyone we wanna add - gotta pass a test'a loyalty. Cut yerself wherever ya want an' add some blood to the bowl. I'll go first."
You raise your right hand and in one fluid and very dramatic move slice down on your wrist. Blood bubbles up - not too much, you didn't cut too deep - and a few drops fall into the bowl. Once you've bled enough to coat the bottom of it you wipe the blade with a length of gauze and then pass along the knife and bowl, waiting for the others to follow suit. Is it all symbolism and showmanship? Yes. But hey, sometimes that's the kind of magic the world really needs.
Elias accepted the knife next, cutting across his hand without a thought on that. He raised his hand over the bowl, wiping the blade off with a bit of gauze, before passing it and the bowl on.
"What sort of tests?" He inquired, arching a brow and turning his gaze to Zephyr. He was curious if the man had any ideas in mind, or if he was waiting on ideas to be offered. It's all very secretive, though he supposed that if just anyone could join a guild of smugglers, they'd be overrun with mediocre misfits.
Elias had no wish to deal with people who had no idea what they were doing. There'd be nothing but work in his future. Probably another reason to find out what sort of tests of loyalty would be offered; surely something that would test the mettle of anyone that wished to join them, as well as their loyalty.
Welcome to Wonderland, I'll be your guide.
Holding your hand under sapphire skies,
Let's go exploring or we could just go for a walk.
Olavi had no patience for dramatics; in his opinion that was all the blood letting was, but he supposed that there wasn't much harm in it - and when he looked to Nerissa, she seemed quite happy about the idea, taking the knife and holding it out to cut his palm for him: resisting the temptation to roll his eyes, he let his hand be cut, squeezing it into a fist over the bowl to drop blood in it.
"If you screw us over this doesn't mean anything." He said plainly, not seeing this as any kind of real bond, though he did take the bracelet; Nerissa was the boss after all, and she wanted to join this thing.
In the blackened waters of conceit I saw my silhouette, pale and bleached
The last step, their final task, was a relatively simple one. Bleed for the cause. There’s something tacky about it, and something a little exciting. Nerissa takes the knife, marvels at it’s shiny blade, then takes Olavi’s hand in hers, opening a bright red wound in his palm. There’s her own symbolism in the gesture, one that just makes sense to her beloved and her.
Then comes her turn. Nerissa has always been one for a certain type of dramatics, and this is no different. She hauls herself out of the water, leaning over the bowl and opening her mouth wide. It’s not conventional, but she wouldn’t do it any other way. The blade drags across her tongue, opening enough of a cut to drip into the bowl. Then, she leans back again, trusting Olavi to hold her when she does. Pale blue eyes focus on Zeph, a grin that’s a touch too red spreading over her face. ”Anything else?”
What an obedient little crew. They commit to the absurdity with surprisingly little protest, gaining a flickered half-grin that disappears as quickly as a shadow, replaced by Serious Zeph. One by one they add their blood, the mer mistress making the whole thing far more dramatic than called for, and when it's done you add the water and bracelets, dying the knotted fiber a deep red.
"These're all made special. It's a pattern, an' only people we trust'll have 'em. It's how we'll tell the fakes from the real." You begin to extract the now-red bands, drying them off on a towel and passing them out one by one. "An' with that, we're an official gods-damned guild. Let th'Biter come for us now. We'll meet here again in LongHeat, when th'Ark's back, an' report on what we've seen an' what trades we got."
And that's it. You made a guild. You wait for the lot of them to leave before you finally let your business face drop, exhaustion and shock rushing over you. If this backfires it'll be your damn fault, and it'll be what you deserve for trying.
If it works, though? Honestly, that'd be pretty damn cool.
Done! Sorry for the delay <3 Thanks to you all the Smugglers Guild has been established!
