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!
Watching her scramble up the tree is an experience in itself. But soon enough there's rustling and a bird trying to escape her. He tosses the net up, watching the poor thing tangle itself into it as he pulls it towards him. He reaches in between the netting to tuck it's wings back against it's body before holding it against himself. It seems to.. calm down. He thinks.
"Uh. Do you know what it is? I've.." He's never seen one. Honestly he's not that well educated. That's what happens when you spend most of your childhood sneaking around the alleys and snatching what food and shiny things you can. "Is it even a bird?" It looks like a bird but again, he's not very smart.
they should have checked the ashes of the women they burned alive
And sure enough, it worked.
She let out of a little whoop of triumph before scraping her way back down the tree, until bare feet touched down along the mossy ground again. Fangorn seemed to be grumbling a warning that she couldn’t quite decipher (or had chosen not to hear and understand), as she wandered closer to the net. “I don’t.” Not a clue as to what it was, but her examination and scrutiny was quiet as the bird stilled.
It was vibrant in its ominous stance. In the way that the world delivered forewarnings about dangerous creatures. And only then did Melita’s eyes dart towards her beloved companion, the way he waved his vines, the way he instinctively backed away – that even a vampire gourd wouldn’t go for something toxic and venomous.
Her glance went towards the bird, and she sighed. “It might be poisonous.” And therefore, not edible. Not something she would bring back to markets. Not something she would barter away.
Though…her hands went towards the feathers, green and bright, likely meant to ensure it blended in amongst the fronds and leaves, even though the rest of its brilliant coloring might hasten the whole regard away. “We could always pluck some feathers, and take them back?” On a smile, on a devilish smirk. If they weren't useful, then the plumage could at least garner some pretty decor. “And then set it free.”
because it takes a single wild ember to bring a whole wildfire to life
He gives her a little grin before noticing the way the gourd keeps its distance. Oh shit. Is he holding something dangerous? She doesn't seem to know what it is either so that's great. Locke's mouth twitches as he feels it struggle against him. He doesn't think it's nicked him or anything. It definitely hasn't bitten him. He gives Melita another look, waiting for her assessment of it.
She doesn't know what it is and she says it might be poisonous. Great. He just tightens his grip on it as she reaches for it. "Yeah. I've seen people braid them into their hair. Would probably look good in yours. The red and all that." Red and green go together right? He slides one hand up, wrapping it around it's beak gently as he tucks the body against his. He's held chickens like this before. Back when he was younger and couldn't get the jobs he got now.
they should have checked the ashes of the women they burned alive
She laughed at the thought of braiding feathers in her hair – when all along she’d considered utilizing them as some means of a weapon. Not one for vanity, especially considering the state of her wild curls and clothing at the moment, she merely considered and weighed their options. Might as well make some use out of their captured occupant. “Okay, but I’ll give you some as well,” and she winked – indifferent if he’d use it for ornamental purposes or something else altogether.
Ensuring and waiting for Locke to have a firm grasp, the youth stepped forward, inhaling sharply, and exhaling slowly. Fangorn grumbled, and she didn’t heed the warning again. Instead, her hands went for some strands of plumage already half-fallen, perhaps in the process of shedding, and tugged.
because it takes a single wild ember to bring a whole wildfire to life
"I hope so. I'm the one holdin' this thing." There's a slight talking through his teethness to his speaking. Turns out that holding such a pesky little beastie is harder than it looks. He'll be alright though. Hopefully. Getting nicked by whatever part of this thing that's poisonous his the last thing he wants. Locke gives her another grin which fades quickly when the bird struggles under his arm. The struggling only gets worse when she starts to pluck the feathers from it. It gives a squawk and Locke makes a little noise back, trying to shush the bird.
"You almost done back there? I'd rather not get.. stabbed or whatever this thing does to protect itself." He's pretty sure it's already shit on him. That's fine. He was planning on dunking himself in the ocean when he got home anyway.
they should have checked the ashes of the women they burned alive
She laughed, light and airy, wisps of jungle and desert and fire, before plucking what she required, needed, sought, out. There were several, no more than four, of the emerald adornments resting in her hand, and she took great care not to crumple or damage them, as Fangorn continued to plead and rumble and grumble at her ankles. “All set!” Then she backed away, intending to give him ample space to release the bird amongst the struggles and squawkings – readying her staff in her other hand, in case the creature gave chase (understandable – to come with vengeance and a taste for their blood).
When it was all over, she extended out her palm, ensuring he had an ample, fair amount – two for each. “Your share, good sir,” and she giggled again, until the merriment amidst the danger sunk into the boughs, branches, and eaves. “What will you do with yours?”
because it takes a single wild ember to bring a whole wildfire to life
He makes a point of letting the bird go away from him, backing up as he does so. It scrambles through the boughs and leaves, eager to get away from it's assailants. Locke exhales a breath he didn't realize he was holding, ignoring the faint trembling in his hands as he takes the two feathers she holds out to him. It's not much but it's better than leaving the thing with no way to fly, right? Predators who are far less kind than they were surely lurk amongst the shadows here.
He runs his thumb over the edge of the feather, looking at her. "Not sure. They're not much for trading. Might just hold on to them.. Would make a quill or something but I can't really write." He's not ashamed of it, it's not like he had much time to learn. He can do simple things but such a nice quill would be wasted on him.
they should have checked the ashes of the women they burned alive
If she noticed the trembling in his hands, the layer of nerves and apprehension, she didn’t say anything about it. There was no shame in trepidation, not in the midst of the unknown, and he’d done better than most likely ever would. With the bird gone, not much else was around to feed her curiosity though, and they’d had enough adventure for one day. “Want to head back?” She placed hers into the satchel along her shoulder, gently, carefully, as she could.
A hum started under her breath as she began to twist and turn from the way they’d come. Melita opted not to extend anything on the notion of writing either, though an offer volleyed along her tongue, but she had no intention of offending. Instead, her steps were light and airy again, Fangorn hastening after her as he often did. “Maybe I’ll try them in my quiver. Be nice to see what happens if they are poisonous.” A grin slid over her features, slightly feral and definitely savage, the bounce in her stride maintaining the untamed semblances.
because it takes a single wild ember to bring a whole wildfire to life
He watches her tuck them away before following suit. He's a little steadier now that the bird is gone and he has no obvious wounds. He keeps one hand loosely on the bag as he starts after her. "Heading back sounds good to me." Not exactly what he was aiming for but it was fine. They had gotten something at least and he'd gotten to meet someone new, that's always fun.
At her mention of the quiver, he raises an eyebrow. She does seem like the wild type, climbing trees and what not. The way she moves through the trees is obvious enough. He kind of laughs, watching her in front of him. She reminds him of his sisters when they were little and it makes him feel a bit better.
But their time together ends as quickly as it starts. He raises one hand, waving to her. "Gonna leave ya here. I'm sure I'll see you around. Good luck, Melita."
