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!
08-16-2020, 02:01 AM (This post was last modified: 08-17-2020, 06:27 PM by Amun.)
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
Amun hadn't been to Torchline for a while, too busy with his work in the studio, preparing for the Festival for Fiat Lux, and taking care of Zhanshi. However, reports of the monsoon season had gotten him worried. The damage it had supposedly done on the region was horrifying.
Given that the shrine he'd built had been in a relatively isolated location, and how few people likely visited it, he didn't think anyone would keep it safe. Sure enough, after he carefully climbed down the cliff face he frowned as peered inside. The cave was flooded
His eyes had no trouble piercing the darkness of the night and the water. It showed him the rocks had fallen from the ceiling. Sighing, he made his way back up the cliff.
Sending notes to the Ascended (and any friends he thought might be willing to help), he requested they meet him to help him clean up the shrine the next night. He gathered a bunch of tools set them down carefully at the top of the cliff.
Then he settled down to wait, Zhanshi making circles in the ground around him. Occassionally, the potter would reach down to scratch the landshark affectionally. In return, Amun's companion would nip happily at the Ascended's fingers.
This is a PQ to help repair the Ascended shrine! There are two open spots, but more can be made available upon request.
I want to bring my fear, loathing, and delusions to a pourI want to tip panic and reason into my god-fearing mouth
After their last encounter, it's a surprise to receive anything from Amun, even something as simple as a note. Nate almost considered simply ignoring the missive, assuming all the bridges between them burned, but curiosity kept him from tossing it, drove him to read over the words. Good thing too, because he hadn't realized anything had happened to the shrine, and it would make his own task from the Voice far more difficult to have to go elsewhere.
Without knowing the extent of the damage, Nate wasn't sure how to prepare, what to bring, and settled for less, rather than more. A few tools, tucked into a bag, hefted over his shoulder, and Pemota trailing over his shoulder, pleased to be coming along to help.
"Amun." It was the only thing Nate offered in greeting as he walked up, crossed his arms. There was more that he would love to say, spiteful things, but he truly couldn't summon the energy to start another fight, at least not at the beginning of this. Some part of him had hoped that maybe, enough had happened to cool his frustration, but apparently, that wasn't the case.
His own feelings didn't stop his starwhal's curiosity though, Pemota swooping low to investigate Zhanshi, a trilling cry and crackle of electricity following in her wake.
At least they were under the cover of night, and she was safe in those moments.
The darkness spread over her heart and lungs and she rejoiced; filling in the ether and vestiges of her movements. Perhaps they were like the water she maneuvered nearby. Maybe they were like the rippling tides. Mayhaps they were nothing at all, and she simply wanted to be cast in their elements for once.
But the monsoons had wreaked havoc on the shrine rumored to be around, and so there was a fluid purpose to her steps instead of the normal, curious, nosey wandering. Notes extended and cast, uncertain if they were supposed to meet her hands or not, adhering to them anyway, gliding along the coastline until she spotted the familiar outline of Amun, and another man.
Her eyes went to the landshark warily, as they’d been known to devour people in the Fields, and glanced upwards to the men. She didn’t have any noteworthy skills or abilities, save for her willingness and fortitude in hard work. “I can help.”
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
As Nate arrived, Amun nodded at the other man. "Nate." The potter's voice was carefully neutral. However, he sighed. "Sorry about the fight last time." It came out softly, and he shrugged apologetically.
Zhanshi, seeing Pemota, immediately leapt into the air, jaws nipping playfully for the starwhale. Grinning at the sight, the potter grabbed at the landshark. "Zhanshi, seriously, no biting."
As Mabel arrived he gave her a bright and genuine smile. "Good to see you again." When it became clear that Nate and Mabel were the only ones who would show up, Amun sighed.
Then he turned to the cave. "Monsoons apparently broke part of the ceiling and flooded the cave. I figure one of us can move the rocks while the other two figure out how to drain the water." He glanced between the other two, not particularly caring which task he ended up with.
The cave needs to be drained, and the rocks need to be moved. No post order!
Oh honey, honey bun, honey bunches of oats. It's still a monsoon.
A huge rush of wind howls into the mouth of the cave. Funneled as it is it gains extra momentum and concentration, less a gust and more a blast. Each of the Ascended will feel the force of it, staggering a little but not falling.
Except for Mabel, who is pushed onto her knees. Oops.
Amun confirmed the other man’s identity, and she saved it in the back of her mind for other notions, days, ruminations, and sentiments. Eyes gazing back at the landshark once more, wary, and then to the shrine itself, marked and etched by the foretold monsoons. Storms and tempests held no predilections for temples and sacred worship. Only humans. Only those with hearts lodged somewhere in faith.
“I can move the rocks.” Farm girl brawn and a complete lack of pain, or aches in her muscles would suit her just fine. She didn’t have anything else to aid or assist with in maneuvering water either – so she set for the first of many stones, hands intending to wrap around, move, and deposit them outside.
And then careened, a shove from the wind, from the gales, pushed directly into the ground. A bite, a curse lifted from her mouth, crawling back from her knees, trying to find the stone she’d already lost.
I want to bring my fear, loathing, and delusions to a pourI want to tip panic and reason into my god-fearing mouth
Nate doesn't expect the apology, his face shifting just a touch with the surprise, one eye looking over Amun's face for some hint of a trick. "It takes two to fight." He rumbles eventually, eye flicking away. "I'm sorry too." He didn't know if it was an actual solution, but he was man enough to let things slip away and focus completely on the task at hand.
The sudden snap of jaws startles Pemota, and, not expecting the toothy greeting, she jerks, spiralling horn trying to tap against sandpapery skin, to dissuade future nipping. Nate's hand reaches out immediately, trying to scoop the starwhal up, out of range for either companion to touch the other. "Be nice." He says sternly, only letting her drift freely again when Pemota goes limp.
The girl who arrives is not familiar to Nate, and he holds a hand out for her to take, if she so chooses. "Nice to meet you. M'NAte." He offers quickly, a smooth grin accompanying the words.
Two tasks are laid out, one significantly more complex than the other. Nate knows the one he'd prefer, but he also knows the one he's going to be left with, even before the words leave Mabel. "I guess that leaves you and me to drain the cave." The words are aimed towards Amun, as Nate begins to move up the cave to take a look at the damage, wind howling around the cave. "Maybe if we make a channel?" He suggests, already moving to make the starts of a path, somewhere for the water to flow out, and maybe to prevent future flooding.
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
Simply nodding in acknowledgment of Nate's apology, Amun had his hands full preventing Zhanshi from going for the starwhale again. Sending a firm command to settle down through the bond, the potter was glad when his companions finally returned to the ground. Even the threatening circles the landshark made were a welcome change.
"I guess it does." Of course, their task wasn't going to be as simple as Amun laid it out to be. Although he'd hoped the weather might cooperate, it actually seemed to worsen. Muttering under his breath, he reached out to help the fallen Mabel, but she was already springing back up.
Taking a length of rope, he would attempt to tie it around his waist tightly. Then he would try to tie it around Mabel and Nate's waists as well. It was long enough to let them work unimpeded, but would hopefully prevent them from getting swept out to sea or lost in the storm. The potter shouted to be heard over the storm. "What tools do we need to make a channel. I can shape them if you tell me."
Random event next?
Amun tries to tie the group together to make them slightly safer from the storm and asks Nate what tools they need to dig a channel.
A confirmation accompanied a handshake with the other man, Nate, and the lightest of smiles adorned her mouth. “Sunjata told me about you. Can I ask you some questions, later?” Curiosity stemming and brimming, then she released his hand, features carefully neutral again.
At least this time as she grabbed hold of rocks, she didn’t stumble, crash, or fall down. Amun’s efforts to tie the rope around them made her feel juvenile, like a tiny child meant to be on a leash, but she understood the reasoning for it. So she said nothing, only glancing down at it with a frown, otherwise content to lift the next stone and carry on her way.
The pouring rain didn’t bother her as she toddled her way outside, but it did seem to be amplifying. She tilted her head, catching a few of the drops, before snagging at another rock, noting the way the water had already crept along the cavern floor.
I want to bring my fear, loathing, and delusions to a pourI want to tip panic and reason into my god-fearing mouth
Again, he's already recognized, the connection his fiance warming Nate's heart, his smile only growing wider as his hand is taken. "Course you can. Whatever you need. We're family, after all." The words come out casually, though he is curious what kinds of questions she could have.
The rope is clever idea, something to keep them together, keep them from stolen out to sea or dashed against rocks. Nate is more focused on trying to figure out what to do, while the water steadily rises in the cave. "We uh, we need some kind of ditch first. To keep the cave from flooding more, just straight across." A hand comes out to gesture while he thinks out loud. It feels as if they're on a timer, and if they choose wrong now, everything else will be in vain.
"We need pickaxes. And shovels." Already, he's moving to go through the tools Amun has brought, searching for what he needs. "This first one needs to be deep, and it needs to have some place for the water to flow back out. Just a few dips in the edge, so it doesn't overflow and keep flooding us." Really he doesn't know if his words make sense, if the plan in his head is communicated, but if nothing else he can get to work himself, try and guide through example.
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
Neither of the other two Ascended commented on the rope, so Amun went over to the pile of tools. Digging through them, he selected two pickaxes and two shovels. Setting the shovels aside, he handed one of the pickaxes to Nate.
Assuming the other man took it, the potter would hold onto his own. Walking toward the front of the cave, he'd begin to swing in steady strokes, trying to carve out the channel and ditch the "doctor" recommended to prevent the water from further flooding the cave.
As he did, Amun glanced back at the rocks Mabel was moving, then at Nate. "Could we use the rocks to create a dam or a wall of sorts? At least until we've finished the channel." Although the potter was still speaking loudly to be heard over the storm, there was something tentative about the suggestion.
RE next
Amun uses a pickaxe to make a channel/ditch to try and prevent the water from coming in from the front. He also suggests using the rocks to build a dam or a wall to block the water as well.
Nate's plan isn't bad. Water does flood into the ditch, though the speed with which it moves is increasing. At this rate it won't be very long before it floods back out around your feet. Outside, the waves are growing restless.
And rocks, huh? Well, if you insist.
A great burst of thunder shakes the stones that make up the secluded cave. Not enough to really cause structural damage, but a few rocks are sent loose and flying. One of them is the size of a baseball, and hits Nate squarely on his foot, breaking some of the bones. He won't feel the pain, of course, but he'll have a limp until he gets it fixed.
With the confirmation of Nate’s approval for answers, the smile appeared there again, residual, not noticed at all by the one wearing it, before she bounded off and left them to their efforts. Amun’s suggestion was met with a nod – and it made sense. Why not use them for other tactics and purposes, while the monsoon raged?
She gathered up several medium-sized stones in her arms, resting them on her elbows, when the burst of thunder shook and rattled their aperture. The youth ducked instinctively as rocks went cascading, a rippling accord of damage and might. Her eyes noted the way one seemed to land directly on Nate, and she winced in sympathy. Even if they couldn’t feel it, there’d be consequences for the measures. “All right?” She yelled across – incapable of doing anything to help him, other than perhaps set a slight splint. The youth had done that enough times for her siblings.
Best to maneuver the rocks as quickly as she could (unless she was now assisting the storm – who knew anymore, honestly). So the youth intended to drop the pile she was carrying, muster them together into a makeshift dam, a wall, to blockade. Then she attempted to continue the movements and motions before the void impeded them any further.
