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!
Walking home should’ve been a grand occasion, a light fury to her steps, a chaotic embrace to her stride, racing, racing, racing against the sun, until she threw open the door and saw her family once more. It should’ve been the pangs of homesickness erasing and fleeting, heart beating back to its regular intervals, the sanctity of sanctuary, refuges, and sanctums, to know and understand exactly who she cherished and what it meant.
But now her movements were cautious, maneuvering on airy endeavors, furrowed contemplation rendered between her brows, a weary, wary invocation to all the information Vai had shared with her. She pulled on the bandages on her arms, then forgot about them as she neared the door, the apprehension over their potential reaction towards her burns completely gone. Now, she only worried by what she might find beyond the aperture.
How sick they really were.
If she was damned and doomed to lose them too.
Fangorn grumbled at her ankles as she stood before the wooden threshold. Melita wasn’t a coward by any means. She just knew what it meant to be incapable, ineffectual, and inept. The girl wasn’t a healer. That had been her mother, her sister; and they were long since gone. Vai hadn’t been able to help them.
So what was she supposed to do?
Watch? Cherish? Love until they wasted away?
On impulse and a strangling sense of fear, the girl opened the entrance, and peered inside. “I’m home!” On jubilant, effervescent chords, as if the world hadn’t delivered one more nefarious blow.
'cause karma's just a different word for bad luck &
Knocks and unannounced visitors and all manner of things that bump and scratch at doors have been haunting Nate for what feels like an eternity now. Days drag strangely, surrounded by sickness, surrounded by monsters as he is. And he has been ever vigilant, listening to the whispers, watching the shadows, numbing himself to them as best as he can. Even now, he sits upright at the foot of the bed, starlight from Pemota just barely keeping him still as the rooms swells around him, as things press against the walls.
His body moves before Nate even really understands what the noise is, what it means, frantic feet thundering as he rushes downstairs, skipping steps where he can to try and head off whatever this new threat is. To face the shadow clever enough to work the door. There is a snarl on his face, teeth bared and hands out as he leaps off the last step, rounds the corner and comes face to face with not a monster at the door, but Melita. Wreathed in a conflagration, glowing and stern in a way he doesn't remember.
"How..?" Feet that had been so sure a moment ago stumble bringing Nate closer, wide unfocused eyes taking in the shape of his niece, his brow furrowing more the longer he looks. Where had she been? What had happened to make her glow and burn so? Still, his arms rise as he comes closer, hands trembling only a touch as he goes to hug her, wondering if she will burn him as well.
Nate’s sudden jolt upright causes Sunjata to wake from a slumber, bleary eyes scanning the room for the danger immediately and sagging back into the bed when he finds none. At least, none upstairs. But then Nate’s moving and Sunjata’s already groaning internally to himself at how his lover’s already gone to face whatever creature might lurk below.
So of course he follows, he goes with him, throwing on some semblance of clothes despite the sheen of sweat that clings to his skin, and he nearly slips down the stairs as he fights his mind to catch up. He has to be there to protect Nate, and that’s all he wants. But he stops short, sliding against the wood flooring as Nate suddenly stops – nearly stumbling into his fiancé before his hand finds the rail of the spiral stairs, grabbing on so he doesn’t lose his balance.
The question is met with confusion from Sunjata, and he peers around Nate’s shoulder to spy Melita – wreathed in flame and gold and brilliance, and Sunjata exhales a loud sigh of relief, all tension in his body fading as he goes the opposite way of Nate’s caution, slipping around to the girl’s other side to wrap his niece in a tight, sweaty hug. “Oh thank Safrin.” He rumbles, squeezing her tight and never wanting to let go. “I thought… Ghost whales…” He manages to choke out, a sudden terror that Melita might have gone out as a flame like Maea had, even if he knows deep down Melita’s resilience and flame would always be there.
SUNJATA
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.
The expectations were more than she could possibly imagine or bear, and she knew she wouldn’t care how they were, what they were like, how they’d been altered or changed, the moment they swept her up, made her feel whole and real again. A tangible flame, nothing battered, bruised, or burned. “Hello,” she laughed and fought off some semblance of tears (warm, happy ones – perhaps she hadn’t realized how much she’d missed this). Her arms wrapped around them both, and despite their soft utterances, their confusion, and everything else misplaced and consigned to oblivion, she wouldn’t leave them now. Not for the void or the seas.
“Are you hungry? Or thirsty?” Thinking back to what Vai had told her, and not releasing either of them, not right now. Her expression was an effervescent sort of inferno; bright and kindled and stoked, ready for anything and everything the world might throw their way. “I have stories to share.”
