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!
By the time evening had come, with its dusky hollows piercing over the horizon, the temporary Warden had settled squabble after squabble, petty quarrel after petty quarrel, and then sunk his head into the surface of his desk. His preferences would’ve been to not be immersed in his office at all, and more than once he’d watched others from the window, considering launching himself from its sanction and flying off, to be left undisturbed for more than fifteen minutes. Or to go bludgeon something until it was rendered into shards and fragments.
Deciding the current hour was sufficient enough to call it a day, responsibilities finished, the Sword slid out of his office, and then the council hall. The intentions were to head directly towards the barracks and hide in the training grounds, but a moment of juvenile tendencies persuaded him otherwise. The sleds outside the Shields’ sanction, collected from his frequent hunting trips, had been left to merely remain there until the next session and season. It would be a shame for them to go to waste.
He straightened his shoulders, dragged them by their strings, and got to work.
Further along the corner of the Citadel, where there’d be an area suitable, the beast began threading and orchestrating through his machinations. Perhaps some would consider them ridiculous and infantile. Perhaps some would ignore them entirely. But for those who wanted to be unburdened for half a moment, including himself, the parameters would be there.
He first began by moving the snow, pushing, pulling, and piling given the incantations of Air, Earth, and Water, until they assembled accordingly, dragging out into a sloping hill similar to the one he’d contorted within the outer regions of the training grounds. Except this one was far more massive, far more appealing for another recreational amusement, and by the time he’d finished applying the enchantments, he’d already had a crowd of onlookers standing nearby. Curiosity might’ve compelled, or they thought the Sword had lost his mind and were waiting to see the end result. Taking an instant to breathe, to manage, to muster more strength, he coordinated the citizens’ efforts, sending them for tables, drinks, and to pass the word along about the upcoming merriments.
Something light-hearted, when they were closed off from the rest of the world.
By the time he’d finished rounding the slope, placing some rails so no one fell completely off the side, and some orchestrations of ramps to meander upwards, those he’d sent off had done exactly as he’d asked. Down below the fanfare, little kiosks, stalls, and tables had been set up with hot chocolate and steaming cider, several varieties of meat from successful hunting ventures, and other snacks. Fires and torches burned, lighting pathways, orchestrating signals.
The final touches were the sleds, and he hauled them over (after wiping any remaining blood off of them), intending to allow anyone who wanted them to utilize them for the sheer essence of fun.
--
It’s a Halo sledding party! Come join and have a good time – open for anyone!
Deimos has sleds available for use, and there’s stalls and tables with food, hot chocolate, and cider.
Welp, here's hoping this peaceful moment last. Don't expect it to.
For once, Belril had found himself without anything to do that day. What chores he had to do in exchange for a place to stay and meals to eat were already done for the day. Even trying to practice more with his attempts at alchemy without the use of magic were not enticing him at the moment. And so, he was just walking about the citadel, a furred grey coat bundled tight around him with hood raised and over his head. He was even still wearing leather-framed goggles over his eyes to keep the snipping cold out of his eyes to keep them from drying them out.
He was bored out of his mind and didn't know what to do at the moment.
And it was like that for a bit, then his feet stopped with shielded eyes stopped the snow appearing to move and clump together. It looked like it happened on its own at first, making him think there was another Abandoned around. Curiosity getting to him, he approached quickly towards whatever was causing the strange movements, then stopped with widened eyes upon seeing Deimos moving without touching the snow and several other things. Looking over the scene in front of him, he recalled a few times early on in his life when he was shown by other kids what some people would do with hills of snow like this, and a smile appeared on his face.
He was gonna wait a bit before seeing if it was already for some of the other kids from the orphanage could show up, but for now...it seemed like this was all his for the second and he planned on taking full advantage.
"Hello, Mr. Warden," he said with a smile, a clear mix of unease and hopefulness regarding the scene around them. Would be rude to slide without at least greeting the maker of the whole setup.
In discussion and gathering other filaments necessary for their amusements, Deimos hadn’t noticed the familiar youth until he was at his side; addressing him once more as Warden. The Sword let it peel away from him, for now, not hinting at the irritation the title gave him, at the transgressions of the past crawling down his spine. He’d purposefully orchestrated the event for amusements, and easing off the ghosts from his shoulders was a step towards those directions.
So instead of furrowing his brow and mustering a low rumble, a growl from his chest, the monolith nodded, glancing from the individual, and to the hill before them – at presently absent, no one rampaging down its slope yet. “Belril,” his gaze landed back upon the child, and then his head tilted only a certain degree, in accord with the range, the mild summit, and the artifacts waiting for someone to grab them. There was no need to race along and account for who was first – though the boy had every opportunity to claim that mild victory. “Go try it.” Permission granted, and another nod, before his jaw jutted forward, imploring the movements towards embankments and diversions.
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
The hill that had arisen out of magic was something the small town was much abuzz about – even the ningo farmer could not miss it as he made his deliveries around the town on the wintry day.
Procuring a sleigh had been something the ningo farmer had done early in the business, shortly after his moose shift had emerged, all horns and muscle and hair. It had enabled him to make his daily deliveries in a single round, no need to return to the storage to gather more stock – he was simply able to load up the sleigh of a morning, step into the harness and shift.
Which is what he had done today, and as he completed his rounds, he returned to his home to collect perhaps his most treasured ‘cargo’. When out the front, he halted his contraption, and pawed at the snow, before bowing his great countenance and bellowing a deep and rumbling summons for his beloved Kiada. And when she came, he let another bellow of greeting dance in the mists before his nose, admiring her beauty, her strength and that bewitching smile as he always would.
When she was aboard, he would recommence pulling the sleigh, through the crowd (potentially accidentally nudging bystanders or those who did not move out of the way with enough speed and agility). When Deimos was in view, he sent a pulse across the attuned bond to the temporary warden, a simple note of deep contentment mingled with amusement at the festivities taking place.
‘I come bearing a gift,’ he joked through the bond, halting his motion, and promptly shifting back to his mostly-human form (moose fur was excellent against the cold). Then, with a smirk, he happily extended a hand to his beloved, to ensure she safely dismounted from the sleigh. “They’d call this toboganning back in Australia,” he mentioned idly, as he looked over the activity with much excitement, a curious glance thrown to Kia, a silent challenge issued.
She hadn’t had much to do today, being unable to go out while the sun was still risen – unable to force herself to test her limits when it came to it. So she stuck to shadows and darkness, to the home with Chulane that she’d started to keep track of, adjusting things here and there, making things in her downtime, sometimes spending time peering out the windows at the passersby.
She’s busy working on her own little makeshift target when she hears Chulane’s bellow from outside, casting a glance toward the window and peering through the curtain to see that it was indeed getting dark, and her beautiful ride had arrived. She has little to grab, aside from herself and a jacket purely for looks rather than necessity, and she bounds outside to slip into the sleigh with a bright fanged grin given toward her lover for his trouble. “This is nice.” She murmurs, reaching forward before he takes off to run her fingers through his fur. But she settles quickly enough, because they’re heading toward this event she’s heard rumors about.
She spies Deimos, flashing him a soft smile, temporarily forgetting that she wasn’t attuned and couldn’t project her thoughts toward him in greeting and playfulness, instead retaining her own to herself and feeling relatively saddened by the thought. She doesn’t have time to dwell, however, not as Chulane is offering his hand in his fuzzy human form and she’s gladly grasping it to pull herself down from the sleigh. “Is that so?” She asks Chulane with that bright smile of hers, stuffing down the sadness from just moments before.
Kiada’s iceberg gaze flits toward Deimos then, that same soft smile granted toward the acting Warden. “So, how does this work?” She asks both Deimos and Chulane, a dark brow raised as she peers between the two of them, waiting for an explanation.
all bright things must burn
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
Kiada has a large X scar on the right side of her neck.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Kiada, without killing her <3
With Belril addressed, the beast set motions out towards more set-up, hands full of materials for the hot chocolate and cider stall when a pulse came through the bond. Familiar and resounding, the Sword tilted his head in its direction, snorting, and then laughing, as the one moose open sleigh came pummeling through the snow. Kiada seated within lightened spirits and his mood in far more favorable directions, and he placed his wares down for those handling the station, before motioning towards the pair.
There was already a challenge immersed – he could feel it, sense it, thrived on the provocations, on the stokings and instigations. Maybe it was a flaw. Maybe it was a ploy. Maybe it was amusement and did little harm, save for in battle (and then he used it for destruction, for demolition).
But not here. Today was for amusements and diversions, for the present.
The fact that Kiada had never utilized a sled in the Basin surprised him, but then again, a wild childhood had other clarities and depictions there. It scarcely mattered anyway. She could learn here. His head tilted towards, jaw jutting forward, the closest, and wandered forward, grabbing hold of the long string dangling from its front edges. “Walk up the hill.” The path clearly marked, a far gentler and easier slope than the one he’d provided for rampaging descent. “Take the sled with you. When you get to the top, get on it, and enjoy the ride down.” Simple enough; though maybe he’d add in some other factors later (the notion of snowballs careening, races, or just hellbent mischief clattered through the Machiavellian properties).
Aiding in additional demonstration, Deimos committed to exactly those steps – long limbs carrying him up the slope, until he crested the makeshift knoll. Coordinating his movements, he nudged it towards where everything began to fall away, and sat down within its confines, grabbing hold of the strand. With a snicker, he proudly grinned, before launching hellbound – leaning forward to increase speed, pace, and diligence; years of holding his golden eagle form readying him for onslaught and lack of terror in the haste. For show, at the very end, as he came hastening towards the couple, he turned, and angled, ensuring the sled followed through in a spray of powder and snow sent straight at them.
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
Snow was not a common thing in Australia, but it did happen. And while traversing his former homeworld, he’d come across a great many ways to enjoy snow. Snowboarding had been his winter sport of choice – skiing never did quite work for him and his long, somewhat gangly limbs. The coordination and fitness for such an activity was not something he’d possessed – not before coming here, and learning a new way of living, of surviving.
He watched Deimos’ demonstration with a broad grin, laughing deeply as the great General-come-Warden bent himself into a sled and careened down his makeshift hill, laughing all the more as snow cascaded over them.
“Let’s go!” he declared, barely waiting to see if she would follow, assuming that now such a challenge had been laid bare, it would be met with tenacity. Toboggining had always been a fun exercise, though the slopes he’d ventured down had never been crafted like this – with intention and focus, drive that would surely make the sleds move with terrifying speed and direction.
Needless to say, he was excited. Like a child in their first snowfall, Chuy was amped.
And once at the top, he demonstrated properly how to mount the sled, murmuring tips and tricks about keeping one’s weight towards the rear, but a firm hold on the rope for steering – it was mostly theoretical bullshit. If he was going to stack it on the hillside today, not much was going to stop it.
Especially if Deimos had any more tricks up his sleeve.
Then he launched down, ‘Woohoo!’-ing all the while, doing the best he could to navigate, but mostly, letting himself fly without wings, feeling the winter air tug and pull at the furs he cloaked himself with, laughing and looking to Kia all the while.
02-03-2021, 12:18 PM (This post was last modified: 02-03-2021, 12:20 PM by Elide.)
Elide
Elide is walking by when a holler catches her attention. Her eyes lift across the vacant snows and paths, to quickly find out where everyone had suddenly gone. As per usual, she's not wearing anything too warm, and is unperturbed by some of the surprised glances this earns her. She makes her way through the stalls, hearing Deimos' booming voice quite clearly.
There may have once been a version of herself that would have stopped by the stalls to admire the fine food offered among them, especially to ask the local hunters of how their expeditions have been going. But since she has no intention of or need for eating, she won't waste their time.
There's also the fact that Deimos apears to be spearheading this little event, much to her surprise. She didn't take him for the type to host a sledding party, gruff instructor that she knows him to be. Elide certainly isn't, so she hangs back on the fringes between open snow and gathered crowd, to watch and observe.
It is to her great amusement that she's arrived just in time to watch the general, the Resurrected Sword go sailing down the hill like an oversized child. A chirp of laughter leaves her lungs, something not so easily provoked from stoic, statuesque Elide. It's hard not to catch a little of the high spirits she's surrounded by, though, and there's a smile on her face as she watches a tall, gangly man go sliding down after Deimos with similar jubilation.
Struck up by the impulse of the moment and the fun, Elide bends down to pull a bit of snow into her hands. Once it's refined into a promising snowball, she launches it straight at Deimos. It splatters against his head. She turns to whistle nonchalantly and fold her hands behind her back.
I have a deeply hidden and inarticulate desire for something beyond the daily life
The explanation is granted as she approaches the sled, her iceberg gaze darting toward Deimos with the instruction. And then she watches the demonstration of said instructions, unable to hide the laughter that leaves her, watching him fit himself into a sled once he reached the top, watching as he bends forward just a bit to make himself appear smaller (a surprising feat, might she think) as his speed picks up and snow flies out from behind him.
It certainly looks like fun.
Until snow spreads along her skin. She doesn’t feel the cold bite of it, but she knows it should be there, and her laughter ends in a playful glare sent Deimos’ way before she’s being pulled up the hill with Chulane, quietly trying to formulate the idea of how she could get back at the acting Warden. It fades slightly as she notices how excited Chulane is, and she dutifully follows him until they’ve reached the pinnacle, following Chulane’s advice on fitting into the sled.
And she does, and she’s off, and it feels like flying with the wind whipping up her braided back hair, her hands clutching at the string that’s used to angle the sled. Brilliant, vibrant laughter leaves her as she slides down the hill and angles it so it wobbles slightly, almost appearing like skiing if she knew what that was, aiming to get closer to Chulane and further away in a fishtail type of movement.
They reach the bottom and she sits in the sled for a moment before grinning widely at Chulane. “Let’s go again!”
all bright things must burn
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
Kiada has a large X scar on the right side of her neck.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Kiada, without killing her <3
Out of the way of the incoming sleds, he hastened back towards the sidelines, eyes cast to watch them disperse and wander along the slope. He’d intended for joy, for amusements, for exhilaration, before anything else came toppling down, before the world fell apart at their feet again. At the wild exclamations and hollers, he presumed it’d been successful – smiling enough as they sharpened and harpooned down the landscape to dimple his grin.
Figuring on going again, he rounded towards the incline, when something splattered against the back of his neck. It was a shock to his senses, as the snow melted, trickled down furs and across any exposed skin, mustering a shake of his head, gloved hands going towards peeling away whatever remained.
Then, of course, he narrowed his eyes in suspicion, an arch to the brow, an uncanny, piercing juncture to his gaze, pinpointing and angling his vengeful leer towards onlookers, the crowd behind him.
And there was Elide, apparently attempting to be the picture of innocence.
Whether she was guilty or not, the association alone caused him to snort. Retaliation in order, the beast conjured his own method of reprisal and retribution. The magic welled and quelled within him, content and dastardly to abide his demands, and the pulsing manifestations of his incantations began to manifest once again: a massive snowball, building, brimming, as it began to levitate in rapid fashion.
And then it was hurled towards the Ascended, with a merciless grin.
Thereafter, not waiting to see the end result, he rushed back towards the slope, long sweeping strides not hiding his trail of laughter.
Welp, here's hoping this peaceful moment last. Don't expect it to.
Belril had admittedly hung back after being told to try 'it', unsure of what 'it' was at first glance. He admittedly found amusement in seeing the others sliding down and even seeing the Warden enjoying himself a bit. It was unnerving at first, during the target making attempts, to see the big guy with a smile, but due to having seen not too much come out of that while Deimos was buzzed at minimum...welp, the teen figured that better would come a not-buzzed Warden.
At least until a snowball started flying towards Deimos, and Deimos returns in kind. Unlike with the paints, snow can wash off, so...
The teen kept his hands from becoming too nippy as he balled up a good scoop of snow, balling up into a nice round shape as he watched the Warden slide down, down, down...then at the end of the downward motion, Belril tossed it up high to see if he can bullseeye Deimos on the top of the noggin. Throwing it forward was going to guarentee that the ball didn't even reach the target sadly. As soon as the ball flew, Belril got to making himself a snow trench to prepare for incoming...
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
They had to take this joy, to hold onto it, to relish in it, celebrate in it, because they all knew what was coming. They all knew the temporary nature of it, the potential for it to all crumble into nothingness. He watched Kia embrace the activity, watched her lean into it, take to it as naturally as she might have flown in her vulture shift. At least, he did the best he could while keeping his own sled steady enough so as not to take out bystanders and onlookers.
The bottom of the hill came swiftly, and no-one had ever really explained to Chuy the exact mechanics of stopping a toboggan. So while his landing was mostly soft, he did seem to get covered a bit more snow than others on his completion of the run, which he easily dusted off, sending a grin to Kia.
“Again,” he concurred, happily following her lead this time, though he did raise a brow at the shenanigans of the others around them – snowballs seemed to be flying this way and that, and an idea to offer some aerial support alighted within him. But first, another trip up and then back down the hill. He had enough snow on him for the moment, he’d contribute to the snowball fight in due course.
Elide is all but prepared for the sort of retaliation Deimos conjures - literally. The massive snowball is hurled at her before she can adequately leap out of the way, hitting her square in the chest. In spite of the absence of pain, absence of breath to be lost, the hit actually sweeps her off her feet. She goes thudding into the snow, and somewhere in the crowds, a bunch of people are laughing at the sight. Hooting and hollering.
Getting up, Elide's eyes sweep around for Deimos. He's not where he was before. No, much to her amusement, he's running away. "I didn't take you for a coward, Deimos!" She calls after him, with an appreciative glance towards Belril - who at least attempts to hit him with a snowball.
So, in retaliation, Elide scoops up as much snow as she can and, in a release of inhibition, gives chase. It's not nearly as big as Deimos' snowball, but it's larger than the one before. She aims it for Deimos' feet in order to trip him up.
I have a deeply hidden and inarticulate desire for something beyond the daily life
The Sword’s sled was a reputable thing only because he’d designed and created it, capable of holding his massive form with little issue, and while the beast leaned forward, the air spun around him. Wild and chaotic, long hair flying out behind him, laughter on his breath as the world slid by on a rush of exultation and exuberance.
He thought very little of the snowballs careening towards him as the sleigh rampaged down, ducking a little at the first, listening to it hit the side of the sled as he came to a stop (on another wave of ivory, sent off to the sidelines purposefully). The other, launched from Elide on a volley of words he hadn’t quite caught, hit his knees.
The beast glanced down, snorting at the pattern-work of rime contorting over his clothing.
With a hapless shrug, and dragging his sled along, the beast began his enchantments’ mission all over again – though this time, the water, air, and earthen elements coincided in multiple, massive snowballs, and lifted them, high and lofting, in all directions. As if he’d orchestrated nothing, the portrait of irreproachability, the armaments seemed to glide all on their own, ascending and subsequently falling towards Belril, Elide, and anyone else within range.
