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!
Well, there it was. Gideon stood at the base of the Spire, staring up at the monolithic structure: foreboding, impressive and chilling all at once. A place of real history. Once, he would have seen it as a symbol of control and beauty, but now that the Voice had escaped, left it torn and broken...it was simply a sad monument to the power of wickedness.
He reached out to put a hand to it's smooth surface, whispering under his breath a prayer of hope, that one day they might be able to capture the Voice and her followers in a more successful prison (Gideon would rather she be destroyed, of course, but due to her perverse divine-like powers, he knew that wasn't always going to be possible). Once he was done with his prayers, he peeked through the entrance - having come to the Grounds using his own ability, he had not yet seen the portal.
Shuddering at the atmosphere of the whole place, he turned to leave: and when he did, he saw a figure before him; before he could even see them entirely ,something gripped him like fear. Knowledge of a dark energy, something wrong. Gideon stared, waiting for the enemy to define itself.
Is it just part of the process? Well, Vi, it hurts
The Spire, even shattered as it is, inspires a kind of peace, a kind that is sorely needed in the wave of strange illness sweeping the continent. It's managed to touch even their Family, ascended's growing strange, loopy almost. Perhaps they should speak to the Voice, ask her what to do, how to help, but that's a thought for later, after their little pilgrimage. They'd heard the man who'd set up in the tip of the spire had perished, leaving the building free to be explored to their heart's content.
At least, they intend to explore it. There must be some curse, some kind of divine intervention placing people in their path, every time that is their intention.
It must be anticlimactic, expecting some kind of beast, some kind of monster, and coming face to face with them instead. Not that Osozo knows what the man is thinking, what shadows he sees as the Demi-god approaches, unhurried. Their hair is a shock of bright yellow, at odds with their dark clothing, the bright blue of their eyes, an unintentional mimicry of the Voice's glow.
"Hello." They call cautiously, something stopping their steps a fair distance from the man, barely close enough to talk. Close enough to know that this man is something unknown, to know that that thought shakes them. "Enjoying the sights?"
Osozo might have thought they didn't fit the description of a monster, but to Gideon they were almost perfect for it. The bright, unnatural colours, the clear sense he received as he looked upon them that this was not someone of the Old Gods but something new, vile, made - he swallowed, daring to look into the eyes that held the glow of the Voice (which he had never seen, but he'd heard tales).
He laughed at the casual greeting, the sound angry and sarcastic: what a trick, to pretend to be so calm, so welcoming. "Can't say I am. Who likes to see a broken prison? Means the scum are out on the streets." Gideon was sure that Osozo would know what he spoke about, but for emphasis he reached back to smack the Spire.
As much as the others presence angered him, disgusted him, he had to admit he was morbidly curious: it helped to know ones enemy. "What even are you? Were you ever human, ever of the Old Gods? To turn so far...you can't have ever been a person."
Is it just part of the process? Well, Vi, it hurts
The laughter echoing between them drains the bright colour from Osozo’s hair, a deep blue replacing it. Bright eyes meet the strangers, flickering black, red, before settling back into their blue. ”I suppose the people on the streets might like to see it.” Osozo comments softly, moving closer to the preacher with casual, unhurried steps. ”I like to see it, in spite of what it was.” They pause, glancing up to where the tip of the spire once pierced the sky, where the Voice once languished, unable to reach outside.
”What am I?” It’s the Demi-gods turn to laugh now, the sound mechanical, at odds with their otherwise fluid expression. They take another step forward, this one obvious, deliberate. ”I am New. We are not constrained by the cowardly hands of the Old Gods.” Electricity crackles between their fingers, the shape of their hand contorting at their side as they take another step closer.
There’s no anger in their voice, no disgust, unlike the man Osozo stares down. Instead, there is pity. ”Your gods have kept you stunted. I have no such limits.” Theres another laugh, though this one is joyous. They’ve never felt this feeling before, never known an opposite to truly press up against, but it feels right.
Seeing the way that Osozo's hair and eyes changed colours, shifting as if to mock the natural order of things, Gideon took a step back, clear disgust on his face and his hands raised as if trying to defend from the sheer idea of Osozo. Their laugh only further cemented his belief that he was in the presence of evil: for the first time in a long time, the Priest was scared.
Not scared enough to allow a comment like that about the Old Gods to pass, though. Anger now taking over his fear and horror he began to storm forwards from the Spire, towards Osozo, looking them right in the uncomfortably bright eyes. He wasn't sure how to interpret the electricity between the fingers, but thought it could be a threat. Before Osozo could get a hand on him, before the Voice's touch could reach him - Gideon acted first.
"How dare you." He hissed as he drew his fist back, not hesitating for a moment before bringing it forward to connect with Osozo's face, hoping to knock them to the ground for their insolence.
Is it just part of the process? Well, Vi, it hurts
The blue in their eyes flickers white, just for a moment, before the fist collides with their face and Osozo is pushed back by the force. A hand rises to touch their face, to wonder at the trickle of fluid coming from their nose. There's no pain, of course there isn't, but that doesn't make it better. The demi-gods face twists into a sudden snarl of anger, teeth bared and eyes and hair both swirling dark red, the colour of a mans blood, when it's spilled by angry tools. "How dare I?"
Their recovery takes only a moment, Osozo rising up and stepping forward again, faster this time, fast as only an ascended bathed in shadows can be. Both hands are outstretched, one reaching for Gideon's face, and the other grabbing for the offending fist. Electricity crackles beneath their skin, their palms flickering.
And while they reached, Osozo crackled, roared, every ounce of fury in their body pouring out. "Your time has passed. Your gods will fade from this world, replaced by the New. Replaced, by us."
His hit connected satisfyingly, Gideon drawing back his fist and grinning savagely at the sight of Osozo's fluid. He'd always found the Ascended's blood replacement to be repulsive, but like this? He could handle it.
Of course, Ascended couldn't feel pain. He knew this, so he knew it was unlikely Osozo would stay down for long. He was ready, braced for whatever was to come, whatever attack they would launch; Gideon was confident that the Gods protecting him would not allow him to come to true harm. However, he wasn't expecting the simple reach, rather than a direct attack. The Ascended's fingers touched his skin in both places they tried to and he jumped back as if he had been burnt, immediately holding out his hand to inspect the damage.
"Your 'Goddess' is a petulant child. The Gods are eternal and you are a blip. A mistake in our history." He barked back, the words almost automatic.
Is it just part of the process? Well, Vi, it hurts
Both hands touch bare skin, and all Gideon will feel is a crackle of static, and then nothing but a light buzzing as his eyelids and cheeks sag, going utterly slack and numb. The same will happen to his hand, fingers falling limp and useless, a buzzing static crackling through them. A savage kind of glee spreads over Osozo's face, made all the more deranged by the slow trickle of fluid.
"I am the next step. I will still be here long after you have faded away to dust and nothing, long after your gods have been remade in the image of the future." The demi-god leans in close, teeth bared in a wide, sharp grin, hands reaching to caress Gideon's face again, to spread more of that numbness through him. "This is not a battle you will win."
But with that last threat uttered, the ascended Demi-god pushes the man away, trying to send him toppling back towards the spire, to open an opportunity for them to turn and run. Despite their convictions, their rage, they also know how to pick their battles, and this one has gone on for as long as they can manage. It's unlikely an accepted would be able to catch them anyway, but a little extra security never hurt anyone.
Immediately, upon his skin and flesh tingling and changing noticeably, Gideon jumped back; sickened, as if he had been shot, he stumbled backwards and clutched his hand, hair out of place and over his eyes, glaring forward at Osozo as they spoke. The touch to his face caused him to spit towards them, his nose wrinkled and lips snarled with hate.
"Enjoy your fantasy while it lasts." He growled under his breath. Gideon would have said more, expelled more bitter words towards Osozo, but they turned to run. His anger began to slowly turn to laugher as he watched the coward leave the area, the way he'd been pushed back not mattering in the face of Osozo apparently given up. "Good! Fear those better than you!" He yelled to their back, glaring until they had gone over the horizon.
{FIN}
Is it just part of the process? Well, Vi, it hurts
