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!
01-13-2021, 05:35 AM (This post was last modified: 01-28-2021, 11:25 PM by Amalia.)
Amalia
Breathe in. Breathe out.
She has never been afraid of heights - only what lies at the bottom of them, far below her feet. The higher she flies the further the fall, and the only way to escape is to keep ascending. Feet on the precipice, slipping on stones, bare and breaking beneath her weight as she scrambles to adhere to the unyielding face of a mountain which has no end--
This is the way Amalia feels as she stares down at the surging sea, where bone-crashing waves threaten to reduce even the strongest of lives to dust.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
She has been meditating more, practicing her breathing, trying to bring stillness and calm to the one thing she can control: herself. Jyoti helps as she always does, the whale a stalwart companion through tumultuous times, resting now between Amalia's paws as the leopardess looks out over the sea. It is nearly sunset, the time at which the girl might have gone to sleep another lifetime ago- but that was long ago. Now she does not sleep so much, her body naturally regenerative and strong. Now she can watch the stars rise over the lip of the world, and not long after the sun chase them away, and only nap between.
Breathe in...
She sits in leopard form because it is the way she feels most at home, tail wrapped around her body, back held straight, eyes drawn shut. A rumbled purr leaves her body with every deep exhale, the bass line for Jyoti's melancholy, hauntingly beautiful song of stars. Together they sing a melody indecipherable to anyone but them. Together they wait for the last of the daylight to fade, two displaced figures who aren't afraid of heights, only of falling without any way to stop their descent.
It isn’t often Seraphina travels this far out. And perhaps it’s due to the fact that she’s wound herself up with everything in Stormbreak that getting to here seems to be the only way to simply… Be alone, to breathe easier and release the tensions of everything else that’s going on. She recognizes the starwhale in the distance thanks to Levi, who’s zipping through the wind torn skies. He lands rather hard beside the leopard and the whale – though Seraphina doesn’t know where the leopard came from.
She does recognize the starwhale though, guides herself toward her companion and the other, a wide smile crossing her face as she feels the tension release itself through her shoulders. “Oh hello you!” She chimes, softly, moving to crouch nearby the starwhale and leopard. “Jyoti… Right?” She asks curiously, her head tipping to the side as she peers at the leopard. “And that must mean… Amalia is nearby.” This is aired as both a question and a statement, the uncertainty in her words evident.
She didn’t spend much time with Attuned aside from her sister. She doesn’t know that Tobi is one as well. As far as she’s concerned, the idea of shifts and changing is new to her and she’s very much inexperienced with it all.
The snow leopardess is aware of the woman before she comes into view, the sounds of foosteps causing one rounded ear to flicker back. She does not know who it is immediately - she's upwind, the scent of the interloper carried back to the city by the cliffside breeze - though the appearance of a familiar dragon at her side eases whatever trepidation this encounter may have caused. Levi is met with a rumble from the leopard and a trill from the whale, the later of whom leaves her place at the Angel's feet to greet the dragon in a flurry of stars.
Amalia, for her part, remains rooted, though she does look back over her shoulder as Sera greets them both. A slow blink of her dark, slitted eyes is the first acknowledgment of the Artificer, followed by a swash of the luxurious tail. Reluctant to shift out of her felid form, the leopardess grumbles a mrrow of greeting, glancing at the stone beside her in invitation before turning back towards the stormy sea.
There is no shifting back for the demi-god, but Seraphina doesn’t mind. She greets the starwhale warmly, Levi fluttering by to play with the whale and offer puffs of air that swirl the starlight around while the Artificer focuses on the leopardess. A mrrow of greeting is given and Sera takes it as an opportunity to slip into her space granted by the other woman, to sit along the rocks and look out at the waves that crash far far far below.
She leans back on her hands, letting the stormy wind pick up her dark hair and whip it around, letting the silence overcome them momentarily before a rumble of thunder is heard off in the distance. “Have you settled in?” She asks quietly, casting her dark gaze over toward the Archangel, hoping with all of her heart that the demigoddess found it acceptable, just as wonderful as Sera did too.
Amalia misses being around Attuned. She misses speaking without words, the way they understand her body language, the way she can project herself without the inevitable betrayal of her voice. A stubborn part of her considers simply staying put, forcing Seraphina into a one-sided conversation- but the Archangel sighs, a gentle whuffing sound, not quite cruel enough to cling to that impulse.
She shifts back as a distant shock of lightning illuminates the darkening skies, barefoot and cross-legged and wearing a sweater that opens in the back, showing a dense layer of leopard fur and a tattoo shimmering in its midst. "Yeah. I guess. As much as I can."
Again she turns to the horizon, the roar of thunder sending a shiver running through her bones. "It's been... difficult," the not-Shield admits with a pale smile, strands of golden hair that have pulled loose from their plait whipping over her skin. "I... I feel like an outsider. Like I'm supposed to be doing something, but I'm not quite sure what.." Long arms wrap around her knees; Amalia half-shrugs, half-stretches, a feline motion despite her human form.
To be honest, Seraphina’s expecting to have a one sided conversation as she settles in beside the leopardess, willing to take mews and mrows for yeses and no’s. But when it doesn’t come, when suddenly the feline becomes woman beside her, Sera leans forward a bit, drawing a leg up to glance over at the Archangel. Concern crosses her face briefly at the not quite admission of settling in, wondering what she could do better to try and make Amalia’s stay here that much easier.
Thankfully for her, the woman elaborates and Sera’s attention is brought back toward the stormy seas, to the clouds that darken and move in the distance, to the wind that picks up around them. And she knows that gesture that Amalia does, as she wraps herself around her legs, closing herself off from everything else. Sera can’t help but to sidle closer, to hopefully drape a warm arm around the woman’s shoulders in a friendly, ‘we’re in this together’ type of gesture.
But one thing about the Artificer, is that she isn’t particularly one to sugar coat things. And it’s with a soft smile that she offers the not-Shield her advice. “Forgive me for being… Well, blunt. But you are an Outsider. You’re from inside the barrier that had been untouched by the gods for centuries… And you are Vi’s chosen.” She begins, her head tilting slightly. “I imagine that it must be difficult to come from that, to… Live in a place that was so rough to survive in, it isn’t surprising that you feel like you must constantly do something.” Sera murmurs softly before inhaling deeply and then exhaling slowly.
“Vi put you here to be with us. Whether that’s to learn or to be safe or what, nobody but He knows. What I do know, is that I think someone hasn’t shown you around the market and let you relax and have fun since you arrived.” Flashing a brighter grin toward Amalia, she hopes she can be infectious. “I could show you how.”
The arm around her shoulders is thoroughly unexpected, and thoroughly welcome at the same time. It is a comfort she didn't realize she so desperately craved, a simple gesture of camaraderie and friendship that Amalia has been starving for. Slowly, carefully, for just a moment, the Angel lets her head drop down onto Sera's shoulder in turn, a vulnerable child grateful for comfort in whatever form it will come. Then she straightens up again, the featherlight touch gone in a moment, and looks back at the sea.
If Amalia still had leopard ears they might have flicked back in brief annoyance as Sera announces she is going to be blunt. As it is the girl tenses in Sera's embrace, slowly relaxing as the Artificer continues explaining what she means. "I... guess that makes sense," the girl concedes, smiling crookedly at the water. "It's very different here. Back home I was a baker... now I don't really know what I am."
The offer to take her shopping garners a real laugh, Amalia blushing brightly and turning to face Seraphina, the wind pulling hair across her face. "I- you- you don't have to do that," comes the swift deflection, the not-Shield shaking her head. "I don't really... I'm not very good at being fun. And I'd hate to get you in trouble, distracting you from your work." A wry, rueful tone colors these words, the girl imagining Cian's frown if she were to go gallivanting through the market. Again.
“Hope.” Seraphina murmurs softly, giving Amalia’s shoulders a brief squeeze. “You’re hope.” Hope for a better life, for a life without the black mark of Ascended that seemed to constantly pop up worse and worse every time they looked. Amalia was the white-out in a page of spilled ink. “But you can still bake if you want to. All you have to do is ask.” A wink is shot the Archangel’s way, amused as Amalia laughs and turns to face her when it comes to the idea of shopping.
There’s a look of pure innocence with a hidden mischievousness that the Archangel is met with. “I’m not busy. And besides, you could learn.” A dark brow is raised in challenge to Amalia, a tilt of her head that reaches Amalia’s shoulder in pure camaraderie. “You learned to be a baker, I’m positive you can learn to have fun. It’s really not so tough.” This is said with a vibrant snicker that she quells easily, letting Amalia go so she might stand in the storm even as the wind whips against her skin. A hand is outstretched for the girl. “Come on, let’s go shopping and we can go back to my rooms and you can bake something for me?” The offer is extended, her grin sharpening to something playful. “I have quite the sweet tooth.”
It strikes her like a wrecking ball, through the wall of insecure doubts and right into her chest. Hope- the most beautifully terrible thing in this world, the weapon of liars and the promise of gods. Hope, which is fragile as a butterfly's wing and just as capable of changing the world. Hope is a poison, a balm, a draught, a fire that burns with the hottest flame. Hope burns and hope heals and hope makes people fight for change, for freedom, to be better--
Hope is what Vi has been to Amalia all her life, and what she must be to these people now.
She doesn't look at Seraphina, but the tears on her cheeks and the bright bloom of marigolds among her tawny locks tell a tale all their own. "Thank you," the Archangel whispers hoarsely, fervent passion in her alto voice. It feels like a weight lifted away from her shoulders, or a fog blown from her mind. She has a purpose. She is Hope.
And gods, it feels good.
The conversation changes to smaller things, lighter, and Amalia is able to smile up at Sera as the buoyant Artificer stands. "Okay," she says simply, slipping her hand into Sera's and rising to her feet. Jyoti follows, singing merrily as starlight fills the small haven they've created within the approaching storm. "Lead the way, then. I hope you're ready to have more food than you can possibly eat."
She doesn’t draw attention to the tears that drip down the Archangel’s face. No, if it was a realization that Amalia needed, Sera’s simply glad to have been able to give it to her. Because to the Artificer, Amalia was hope to her. Touched by the god of life. She was chosen. And it meant more to her than perhaps anything else – to gather that attention, to become something, to fight the good fight, it was a beautiful story.
The hand is offered, however, and she pulls Amalia up and tangles her hand within the ex-Shield’s, watching as Levi follows Jyoti and dances through her stars, puffing clouds of air to make them dance and sparkle around. “Oh, I’m counting on leftovers.” She chimes, a brilliant laugh leaving her, her freehand coming out to pat at her stomach as she laughs.
She guides the Archangel toward the town, arm in arm, hoping to beat out the storm before it arrives. “Allow me to show you to my favorite clothing store if only so you won’t judge the amount of clothes I have at home.” She jests, as they dip into the building full of brilliant fabrics of all colors and textures, fashioned into coats, cloaks, dresses, blouses, regular shirts, and the like.
They speak a little as they walk, light and meaningless things that make Amalia feel strangely comfortable, as though perhaps she could find herself belonging here. Sera does most of the conversing, of course, but the Archangel drinks in every word, stopping to ask questions about the building they pass and stores they see, until finally they duck into a vibrant shop full of finer fabrics than anything the girl has ever seen.
"Oh," Amalia gasps expressively, torn between wonder and overwhelm as Sera guides her into the clothing store. It's nothing like she's ever been in before- so many options! In so many colors! It renders the Archangel somewhat speechless, as her dark eyes flit from object to object with the eager urgency of a swallow.
She's very aware of her shabby clothes and bare, half-shifted feet. Of the now shy forget-me-nots in her tangled hair, of her lack of make-up, of the fact that she is entirely out of her depth. "Um." Helplessly she looks at Sera, pulling on the hem of her tunic. "These are... Um. I don't know where to begin."
It’s easy conversation on the way there, Seraphina hoping that deep down it helps ease Amalia’s discomfort when it comes to her place here in Stormbreak. She doesn’t find out if it does immediately, however, because they’re slipping into the shop and her attention is brought to the demi-god, watching the woman as she gasps, almost looking like a deer trapped by a light. So Sera slips over toward Amalia’s side, noticing how she fidgets with her tunic hem, while flowers bloom within her hair.
“That’s why you’ve got me.” She offers, flashing a winning smile and moving to hook her arm around Amalia’s again to guide her in, the Artificer waving hello to the shop keep before departing down the aisles. “So I usually start with looking through them and seeing what would make me… Well, feel good about wearing it. Whether that’s the color or texture of the fabric.” A shoulder shrugs lightly before she’s walking slowly by a wall of soft, vibrant jackets in bright hues and warm fur linings. “Take your time, there’s a spot in the back you can try them on and see how they fit and if they make you happy.”
Sera’s fingers reach out to run along the collar of a lighter jacket, the fabric a bit silky and shiny in comparison to the furs of the thicker ones, before her dark eyes are slipping back to the Archangel.
It's comfortable in a way she hadn't expected, Sera's easy manner, the way the Artificer wraps her arm into the not-Shield's. It reminds her of Evie- and something mournful twists within her at the thought of her errant sister, not seen for seasons now.
But Sera is there to distract her with colors and fabrics and the promise of feeling happy, though how exactly clothes will cause that is beyond Amalia's ken. Still she follows along obediently, wide-eyed as her hungry gaze takes in the riot of options. They stop at a wall full of coats and jackets, the likes of which Amalia has never seen. Tentatively she raises a hand to brush butterfly-soft over a long wool creation in a cool pond green, with white buttons and lining. "I don't usually wear anything that covers my back..." the girl murmurs softly, looking back over her shoulder at Sera. "Just in case... y'know." Feathers ripple over her shoulder blades, swirling from the tattoo that traces down her spine. They're replaced by leopard fur quickly enough, the insulation and warmth more than any coat could provide. "I like this color, though. It reminds me of... of the Oasis. Back home."
She lets Amalia choose what colors and fabrics she likes, listening intently to what boundaries the Archangel has for clothes – offering an eager nod when the woman’s eyes drift back toward her. An encouraging smile is also offered, something easier as she hangs onto the memory that the color sparks. Her own dark gaze drifts back to the pond hued wool fabric with white buttons and lining, taking it into consideration at the mention of not needing something that covers her back – a show that has Sera’s grin edging a bit brighter in excitement.
“What was the Oasis like?” She asks, curious what kind of memories Amalia has of the place, keeping that color in mind as she slips toward the blouses and finds a backless one due to the swooping collar, in a similar pond green hue with white trim instead of buttons, pulling it off the rack and drifting back to hold up to Amalia with an encouraging smile.
