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!
It wasn't supposed to go like this. "Far fairer than the Voice," she snaps back at Morgan automatically, lowering her eyes. "The Voice lied about the cause of the Blight. She did nothing to help those who were sick- with a disease that affected a goddess. It was only through Vi's intervention that we were saved." Her eyes snap to Remi and Ronin, who will remember as acutely as she the toll that illness took upon the world. "Nobody has died from this illness. And I don't want anyone to die, Ascended or not. But I can't condone handing over more power to the Voice, not when we don't know how many more lives will be at stake because of it."
But on one thing they agree. Exhaling an aggravated breath, Amalia turns back towards Loren, her eyes closed briefly as she shakes her head. "You need to give the metal to us, Loren." It isn't a furious demand, it's a statement of fact, and as she searches for her blue eyes she hopes he can feel through the Attuned bond just how final this is. I don't want the Voice to have it either, but at least we have a better chance of standing against her. And they aren't going to let you leave, if you don't.
I will not be told where to stand
I will not be told what to say
Morgan found herself very much appreciating Ronin, who was saying what she thought with a particular grace; she'd always been direct and honest without much of a gift with phrasing, which sometimes made arguments difficult. Still, she was not hesitant to respond, especially not to Amalia, who seemed to be blinded by her loyalty to the Old Gods. Morgan knew in the company she kept, three Demi-Gods and a man very much enamoured with the Deities, it was likely a poor idea to display her disinterest too much.
She wasn't just going to let anything pass though.
"This isn't the Blight. Don't let bitterness over the past cloud your judgement now." Was all she had to say on matters of the last plague; Morgan had not experienced it first hand, but as far as she was concerned, it had nothing to do with the current situation. "They may not be dead yet, but the Ascended are suffering: I am seeing it first hand. The Voice, at least, can be relied upon to likely save her own people. Your Gods? What can you expect them to do other than destroy the cure and damn them? It would be a lot of blood on your hands to live with."
walked out this morning and i wrote down this song. i just can't remember who to send it to
"No one in this room trusts you to do a damned thing you say you will." Remi snarls bitterly from where he stands. With Ronin against the door, a ghostly manticore appears at the back of the room. Large enough that were it corporeal it would have sent shelves and books flying. As it was, the creature simply stared with furious eyes at the Launceleyn, radiating fear and a biting chill into the air.
"You will tell us where it is Loren, or I will make you." Like Amalia's words before, Remi's weren't a threat either, but a simple point of fact. And it would surprise no one in the room, except for perhaps Morgan, that the alchemist would likely find some degree of satisfaction in Loren choosing the harder option in all of this, after everything they'd been through.
Magic: Ghost Shape | Can summon the ghostly echoes of his former shifts (lion, raccoon, octopus), non-mythical creatures in his current biome, and a manticore. These will last for 3 post per thread, cause fear and cold damage; the manticore ghost can also cause poison damage.
Type: Dark | Rank: Mastered
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
The fingers of fear did indeed creep down the Firebrand's spine as the manticore appeared. However, it might not have the effect Remi intended: the healer snarled at it, claws appearing at his fingertips, teeth lengthening into fangs, and fur rippling up his arms.
The problem with backing people into a corner is that some of them had the soul of a honey badger. And he was far past the point of hearing what any of these assholes had to say to him.
Loren spoke only to Amalia, silently. I'm sorry. I didn't want this. If you had come to me, alone, and asked for my help, I would have gladly stood by you against the Voice. But not like this. Remember that. Please. Hopefully she would hear the complete honesty and note of finality in his thoughts too.
Meeting the Shield's eyes, he sighed. "I would've told you earlier, but we got interrupted. Everyone will die, even with the water, if we don't collect enough lilies and Tanau doesn't show." His lips twisted into a grimace. "I was hoping to prevent a panic by not informing everyone at large."
With that, he turned to face the other three. "I'm not the villain you all think I am. If you had come to me, like reasonable human beings, to talk about this I would've happily spoken to you about this. Any and all of you." He stabbed a claw into his desk. "But you didn't. Instead you came here to condemn me." He growled. "And I will not stand here and listen to you level accusations against me for a crime I did not commit that you're already convinced I'm guilty of."
Stepping back from the desk, he stood tall. "But since the Warden, the Governor, and the Queen all want me to return the metal to the Voice—oh and the Dark Star, of course—" he narrowed his eyes at Ronin, "and since most of you seem to believe I've made some horrible and malicious mistake in not returning the metal sooner, allow me to rectify that. Maybe that will prove to you, once and for all, that I can be trusted." Scoffing, Loren grinned (okay, bared his teeth) and flipped all of them off.
And then he disappeared, taking the metal (which had been in a hidden pocket this whole time) with him.
Type: Light
Snake-Guardian Scale: A palm-sized opalescent scale from one of Rae's portal guardians. When used, it will take the holder from their current position into the portalling dimension regardless of where they are. Once it has been used, it will disappear.
Actually, Ronin already knows that Loren is exactly the asshole he thinks he is, and he gives a sarcastic little bow at the use of his title alongside the rest of the soapbox speech. Before he can so much as respond, however (what do you say to that anyway, apart from the tHaT’s yOuR oPiNiOn meme), the Firebrand has just winked out of existence, and Ronin takes a step forward away from the door with a curse on his lips.
”You know the worst thing about all of this?” he rumbles, the words muttered though clenched teeth. ”I’m not even surprised. I’m not even fucking surprised.” Raking his hands through his hair, he turns and walks out of the little space and into the snow to get some air.
"And you think the Voice wouldn't use it to harm the rest of the world?" Amalia retorts, glaring at the Warden with fire licking through her hair. "They're not my gods- they're ours. Or they were, last we spoke." The Warden had agreed with the Shield, that the Ascended tide needed to be stopped. Now it seems her allegiance has shifted, sending a shiver down Amalia's spine.
She catches Loren's mental voice, turning back with a frown. I didn't want this either, she replies sadly, anger and frustration rife in her mind. I tried... tried to prevent it. I'm sorry.
And then there is more yelling, and a ghost manticore, and just as things appear to be escalating to a fever pitch Loren is just... gone.
Amalia blinks, staring at the place where the Firebrand stood, confusion widening her eyes. "Mort!" she curses, turning back to the others, her face contorted with anger and fear, dark gaze fixing on Morgan. "You were supposed to let me talk to him! To at least give him a chance!"
I will not be told where to stand
I will not be told what to say
The appearance of the Manticore did make Morgan take a step back, but she'd long ago perfected her poker face, and once she'd decided it wasn't an immediate threat, she accepted it; perhaps it was necessary, to make Loren do something. The speech that followed from her Healer (or ex-Healer, with the way this was going) only served to make her raise an eyebrow, the lack of responsibility in his words so grating she could barely even think of a response before he was gone.
She understood Ronin's frustration, let out her own huff of air, though her attention (and ire) was quickly drawn again by Amalia. "I had concerns about the Ascended. I never claimed to be loyal to the Old Gods. At least not with this determined zealotry you call loyalty. This will probably disappoint you to know, but I have seen the error of my ways since then. The Ascended do not deserve your hate." Morgan supposed this was where she was drawing her line in the sand. Not as a lover of the Voice, but a defender of her people, who were, in her opinion, only as much trouble as their Old God counterparts.
That she was apparently being blamed for Loren's disappearance did nothing to calm her anger. "He lost his chance when he held onto this secret for so long. Now. I'd like you to leave my council hall. Loren will be dealt with whenever he returns." If he was going to do what he said, actually give the metal to the Voice, Morgan had gotten what she wanted anyway; no point in continuing to bicker endlessly.
10-13-2020, 09:57 PM (This post was last modified: 10-13-2020, 10:03 PM by Odd.)
walked out this morning and i wrote down this song. i just can't remember who to send it to
'He always has to have the last fucking word.' The Lullaby snarls as the ghostly manticore disappears. Gods if Ronin hadn't hit it right on the head, with Loren saying so much and yet nothing at all. Running his fingers through his curls, Remi offers Amalia and unapologetic look on behalf of both himself and the Star. Talking was well-meaning, but they'd both known Loren longer than anyone else. There was no talking to him when he was like this. The Firebrand would find a way to come out on top or to make himself the martyr one way or another. Given his little speech, Remi had an idea of which one.
"No offence meant, but that's only if you find him first." Remi says to Morgan. And indeed he doesn't mean it as a slight, but the Lullaby is not the sort to let others handle his problems. If she found him first that was all well and good. And if he did? Well. That would be a different matter.
Following in Ronin's footsteps the Lullaby trails after the Star that they might decompress together.
~FIN
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
