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!
These were the moments where he lost some of the Sword edges, the compassion, the distinction and foundation of warmth. It was instances of Reaper predilections and upheaval instead, where the cold crept into his bones, where the impassivity, the detachment, warred and crawled its way back into his heart, his lungs, his soul, and all he craved were the inherent instincts of violence. To do just as he’d promised, rip and tear and maul and mutilate, anything and everything in his path, in his wake – where the semblances of another’s fear, where his intimidation, and unreachable derision, made an apathetic entity snicker and smirk. For a few seconds, he savored the taste of terror in the air, as the birds took flight, as they were pushed and shoved and snared right into the path of the next viper. Thrived on it, remembered, recalled, all those hours, days, seasons, years when his name, his shadow, his presence, was a conviction of condemnation.
Hadn’t that been what he’d yearned for in the Basin? Amongst and amidst his mountains, where the earth would leave him alone?
His talons wrapped around a fat, ivory form and the ningo’s life was deprived almost instantly, a crushing blow, a shortening of breath until it was gone. The eagle glanced up, wings maintaining their predator prowess, landing nearby to witness the rest of the short-lived hunt. One of them stood no chance in Aisha’s wake, bound and mauled within her clutches and jaws, and together they’d formed another tactical unit of might and calamity. Perhaps it was a credence of things to come, lines of defense and assault, or maybe they were naturally skilled hunters.
Then the Reaper was gone, hidden, tucked away, and all that was left in his filaments was the composed tone of the General. Enough? If not, he knew several other ranges of where the flocks were immersed, but they’d likely be at risk of being discovered.
she grabbed a razor for me and she did it, just like that
Maybe both, tactics and calamitous maneuvers derived from skill as well as trust, understanding, and perhaps fate. The roaring thrill of the hunt was shared through their bond, there was something she loved about feeling her own excitement as well as his, as though they were hunting as one fell beast. Her tail flicked to and fro curled in delight as she noted the white bird in her companion's beak.
Wouldn't want to ruin the farm population, she replied, let's take these back to roast or something, I'd be down for another snack. Her contentment was nearly tangible. She turned and began walking back towards the barracks, where she'd left her human weapons. Until then, claws and jaws would do.
when she want something she don't wanna pay for it
An agreement fostered in the angles of his avian nod, and their hunt ended swiftly. Perhaps not quite ready to rid himself of the entanglements of liberation, of freedom, the beast remained just that – skimming back over the skies with a broadened amusement, permitting the sentiments to dive into the attuned adornments. Fine; which was mostly a pouting, juvenile tease; he wouldn’t want Chulane’s efforts to go to waste either, even if the ivory birds seemed to have a plentiful population, no matter how often he’d been picking them off for various reasons.
Feathers, wings, and plumage loomed from the air, half-tempted to ghost down, descend, in rapid formation in teasing, taunting skill, but ceased when he was simply allowed the open veil of clouds and wind. The chill pummeled at him rapaciously and he didn’t care – a breath between ningo feathers clutched in his beak, and the heralds of another time, another place, another world of mountains coiled back into him.
When he’d finally settled, when the memories were no longer so armed, he flickered over the ground, lightly touching down upon hardened soil and cobblestones, rounding back towards the barracks, their wandering journey always seeming to settle directly into the military denizens. Therein, he was human once more – back to furs and flesh, the ningo clutched in his grasp, and he snorted at the leopard, opening the door again to enter as she bid.
she grabbed a razor for me and she did it, just like that
Deimos resigned himself to one bird as she did, one each would be enough for now surely. Since she was now moving here (still so recent a thing that it caused a shiver every time she thought it), they would have ample time to replay events such as these. They would revel in a hunt, a spar, a cold morning, a simple silence or a bawdy conversation as often as they pleased. This thought sated the animal that wore her soul, allowed it to turn from the flock with satisfaction and triumph.
They returned the the barracks, Deimos diving down and returning to his usual form, opening the door for her. She padded in slowly, maintaining her spotted furs and taking the sweet time that every cat deserved upon entering a room. She stretched, then dropped her ningo by the roaring fire, pausing there to warm for a moment. Her head swung his way, yellow eyes watching as he moved about the hall, I'll start plucking, she said with a low rumble, sitting down and snatching her bird with black claws to begin tugging out the feathers with her teeth.
when she want something she don't wanna pay for it
Zuriel sniffed, snorted, at having her space by the fire invaded, and made no other inclination to move – the imperial rise of her noble cranium, combined with an incredulous manner of pride, made the Sword roll his eyes, but he left her and Aisha to battle it out over the hearth. At the rumble from the leopard, he tossed his ningo next to hers too, retrieving a sack from one of the closets. “We can use the feathers for something else.” Everything to be put to use in some form, naught wasted. Laden it with down, with warmth, combine it with other hunting efforts, and hide the evidence from Chulane at a later event.
Leaving Aisha to her task, he wandered along the front parlor, tying his hair back, and obtaining two hunting knives, to cut away contortions and proportions they might not otherwise crave. On another contemplation, he obtained two spits as well, to roast the birds right over the blazing fire, before winding his way back, sitting near the leopard, coaxed and enticed by the inferno too, picking up the plumage already fallen to the floor. “What have you been up to in the Grounds?” Presuming she’d taken one last tour, one last round, one last dedicated refrain around the world, around the land, they both used to guard.
she grabbed a razor for me and she did it, just like that
The unicorn she'd lain beside snorted, raised her head in a regal arch, but made no move to run her off. Aisha purred, I know you love me, crossing her paws and flicking her tail before turning her attention back to the ningos. Deimos suggested another purpose for the feathers, and Aisha gave a thoughtful blink, snatching the sack and pulling it closer, so she could drop the feathers on top.
She pulled away at the down, white feather's kicked up into the air when Deimos neared again. She shot him a scowl, shooting out a paw to snag the feather that'd tried to escape, before adding it back to the pile for him to take. His question pulled another rumble from the leopardess, her teeth still worked at their task as she replied, Nothing much. I train, I offer lessons, I explore, I hunt and help keep up the manor. I did meet another cat with an affinity for chatter, which was nice, she mused, remembering the small flame point cat Augusta who she'd met at the shrine in the glade.
when she want something she don't wanna pay for it
He watched Zuriel from the corner of his eyes fail to relinquish her spot. Perhaps the two were already sorted – though he witnessed the mare stretch out her forelegs to gain more access and room, ensuring her claimed position remained justifiably so. Thereafter, with feathers plucked and placed within the sack, his gaze went to the ceiling, thinking, mulling over the directions in which Aisha had wandered. Training, lessons, exploring, keeping up with the manor (another building they should’ve burnt down when they had a chance, in his vengeful opinion), seemed agreeable with her – and at least she’d avoided the onslaughts, the beck and call of terror, the constant, overwhelming strife.
The last statement caused him to muffle another round of laughter, quietly tucking it back into his chest. Instead, as his gaze and head bowed downward, taking hold of one of the thoroughly plucked animals, and conjuring a surface before him to work upon, he figured it wouldn’t be the strangest of things. Better a talking feline than a monster spiraling from pools, the earth, or wherever else they happened to roam. A semblance of mocking tones, clearly meant to insinuate in his dry humor, rumbled along the hearth, followed her attuned bombardments. “A talkative cat. Strange.” The juvenile grin established thereafter said all it needed to, before he angled, tilted his head, cutting apart portions of the bird, meaning to place it upon its designated spit without the unnecessary proportions. They’d be saved too. And all along his mind wandered, piecing together what it meant to be in repose again, a refuge in the halls and parlor, with friends who weren’t gone. “And what did it say?”
12-13-2020, 03:49 PM (This post was last modified: 12-13-2020, 03:49 PM by Aisha.)
AISHA
she grabbed a razor for me and she did it, just like that
Aisha plucked away, snagging stray feathers to put in the sack, and ensuring the birds were clean and smooth. She passed him the first finished ningo, listening to the vibration of laughter that he muffled in his chest; it was a faint but deep sound through their bond. A purr rumbled in her own chest, snagging the next bird and working her way through it's plumage, She says her name is Augusta, and that she's 'nothing special', she replied with a roll of her head to a tilt.
Shrine spirit, normal cat who's got astonishing motor function, whatever. She was sweet, she said as she plucked the last feathers from her bird. Here, the leopardess nudged the thing over to Deimos for him to work his magic, both metaphorically and literally.
when she want something she don't wanna pay for it
He’d never met anything else at a shrine except for the heralds called – being ignored or denied had left laughter in the midst, but nothing bounding, no spirits erupting, no wakes of others harkening to the forefront. Augusta, of nothing special shrine spirits, was an intriguing measure, and he shook his head idlely, attention deviating to take care of the ningo passed over to him. He’d leave her to the rest of the feathers, as he removed unnecessary proportions, filling the silence beyond the crackling fire with his deep intonations, inquiries, piercing gaze not yet lifting from the bird or the hunting knife carving its way through the fowl. “Who did you hope to meet?”
Then the Sword placed the spit through both birds, maneuvering before the fire, crouching low, bestial in its heat, to place the metal stick and its birds along and above the flames, in its designated contortion. Thereafter he motioned towards the rotating sanction, turning it on occasion as the inferno began to sidle and slink over the ningos, eyes drawn into the conflagration, reminded of too many things all at once.
she grabbed a razor for me and she did it, just like that
As Deimos finished up working on the second bird, the leopard took a moment to groom herself, to nudge any stray tufts of white down from her pelt and back to the back. She rolled, basking in the brief break she got to just lay and enjoy the fire, chatting idly with a friend. Yellow eyes darted back towards him as he inquired to who she'd been seeking there, No one specific, I don't ask for the gods often and thought I'd just spend some time there to reflect and give an offering.
She stood and stretched as he stuck the birds onto the spit, hoisting them over the roaring flames to be cooked and roasted. She padded to stand by his side, watching the fire until it made her eyes feel dry and she blinked away, back to Deimos. What god's do you meet? she asked, curiosity cocking her head, flicking her black tipped ears.
when she want something she don't wanna pay for it
Leopard rolls and a crackling hearth, with a unicorn side-eyeing all of the actions, hadn’t been the repose he thought he’d catch and snag today, but he took it for what it was worth, breathing deeper, relaxing in the threshold of fires and friends. That Aisha had gone to the shrine merely on whims and reflection gave him some sort of pause – because he’d never been the type of individual to do either. They were based calculations, machinations, last measures, or devises of pleading, begging things, pressing his knees into soil and listening as appeals went ignored. Different times, different worlds, different realms had afforded alternating circumstances, but the press of his faith in himself, rather than steadfast into heralds and deities had remained. It’d shifted with moments, with clarity, with individuals, but some contortion of his reclusive, distrusting armaments remained.
He might’ve asked her if she’d gained any insights, any points of favor, any machinations for the future – but perhaps the cat had been enough. The Sword loosened the semblance of a soft, muffled laugh again, rotating the spit, watching the meat begin to turn a golden brown. His eyes didn’t glance her way, but he felt her presence regardless, permitted a crooked grin. “Safrin, usually. Ludo once.”
12-16-2020, 12:01 AM (This post was last modified: 12-16-2020, 12:24 PM by Aisha.)
AISHA
she grabbed a razor for me and she did it, just like that
Aisha paused in her rolls to clear the way for Zuriel, her beastly companion by the hearth, regarding her with a blink. The sizzling of meat by the hearth drew the attention of both, Aisha's head turning lazily back to the fire as an ember popped from the ashes. A quick claw cracked down on top of it, letting it smolder and turn to soot beneath her before lifting the paw to groom.
Safrin, of course, everyone's favorite lady. Aisha nodded with a soft purr, She's the one who gave you all your fancy shifts then? She was rather sure of the answer, he was a hybrid after all and the gods didn't seem to keen to go around giving people magic. He'd been given his attunement, his eagle and bear, tiger and hound; but Aisha was born with her creature. I'm not sure who gave me the bat, but this skin is one of the only things I got to bring here with me, she remarked, eyes trained on the browning birds.
when she want something she don't wanna pay for it
“Yes.” Was the first response as his piercing gaze caught the leopard’s out of the corner of his eyes, a segment of better times and better years. The first time a god had even acknowledged his presence, and then sent him scattering down to the earth, dropping him from the sky. Now there were different connotations associated; together they’d made a deadly, bestial, belligerent weapon, safely tucked away, and the world had toppled over in other remnants and pieces. Instead of linger in those thresholds, as he was so prone to do, he swallowed down the choking remnants, pushing away at the fog, at the tethers, at the abhorrent rue, and snorted. An assembling of tiger ears crowned the top of his head, twisting and turning, back and forth, matching the crackling pitches and sounds of the hearth.
But Aisha was different; beholding the ability long before she’d been cast into Outlander abyss, and he turned his cranium, hands still rotating the spit, to fully regard her. “Do you intend to find out, or are you content with the mystery?” To not linger in the potential manacles of deities and their jurisdictions, to merely grow with the enigmatic push and pull in the backdrop? Perhaps it was that easy – but the Sword would never know.
she grabbed a razor for me and she did it, just like that
Aisha purred at Deimos's response, tail curling behind her, I like to think I unlocked a hidden ability of my own free will, playful and teasing. It could've been the lady of the stars, they'd left off on a good note the first time they'd met. But Aisha wasn't convinced, and part of her did want to believe that the mortals of this realm had some give and take without divine intervention.
The birds were slowly turning crisp beneath their supervision, the smell becoming all too enticing. She tasted the air, running her tongue over sharp feline fangs. This smells so good, she remarked, swaying slightly so that her shoulder nudged his leg, Imagine all the birds we'll get to roast when I'm here to stay.
when she want something she don't wanna pay for it
