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!
Cameron heard Aamu's comment and couldn't help but chuckle at it: apparently they shared a sense of humor, at least in part. That was nice to know.
It was also nice that things started going better after that ... even if Cam was getting pretty tired and sore. They didn't want to give up, but they did stop for a moment to take a drink from their canteen, wincing at the slightly metallic taste of the water. And wincing as the movement stretched their various splinters. Their breathing was a bit ragged, at this point -- man, I'm going to have to get in shape -- but they remained ready and willing.
"We did it," Cam agreed. They grabbed a couple boards and some nails and started working, using their memory of the boards they'd just pulled up as a template for how the new ones should go.
Cam's working on the boards!
cameron ?
"Cameras" by Ennev is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0
And then there was a flow, a rhythm in between all this madness. Beneath the inklings and anglings of moonlight, determination forged anew. In unison, the boards settled together nicely, beautifully, far, far exceeding what the farmhouse looked before (even prior to the rage of the Sparkbird). The nails remained, unbroken, and the roof displayed its proud expanse without a massive hole settled over the ceiling.
For once, a massive smile hastened over the girl’s face. “Amazing,” was another whisper, as though if the declarations were made too clear, something else might fall apart at the seams. “Well done,” hailed as one more quiet encouragement towards Aamu and Cameron, before the grin disappeared, and she had to reaffirm the rest of the tasks.
“I think we only have the windows left,” and whatever else hadn’t been discovered yet. She led them down the ladder, and around to the front of the farmyard, where it was clear that some force had ricocheted and volleyed the glass apart. Through some bartering with few remains and a promise of sewing work, she’d been able to acquire a certain amount within the marketplace, but it was vastly limited too. “If we’re careful with it, it should last us,” Mabel admitted, glancing at the panes.
Then they could prevail again.
--
Amazing rolls!
Barring any troublesome dice, this should be the last round! Let’s put some new windows in!
Let's go to war to make peace Let's be cold to create heat
and I've only got my brittle bones to break the fall
He loses himself in the work once more, steadily carrying on, finding the rhythm with the other two: they could've worked until the end of the world and he likely wouldn't have noticed.
But when they finally are done it is not the roof he watches with satisfaction and pride, but Mabel. Her smile is more than reward enough for the misadventures with the shingles, and, afraid of making her self-conscious should she catch him watching her, he turns his face away, that small, affectionate smile lingering on his face for a moment longer.
He follows them down to the ground, peering at the windows. They're a mess, Aamu looks at the little stack of fresh panes she'd been able to acquire. Would it be enough? If they don't break any—probably. Slowly he approaches the nearest window and begins cleaning away the remnants of old glass and fixtures, preparing it for the fresh panes.
Cam smiled back at Mabel, surprised by how pleased she looked with their success -- she'd been so quiet, and they got a feeling that she didn't smile much, though who knew if that was accurate, given how little they actually knew about her. "We did good."
Then they turned their attention to the new task. Aamu was already removing the old broken glass -- good; Cam was sure they would have cut themself if they tried. Not that they wanted Aamu to cut himself instead (not knowing that he was Ascended and thus had little to worry about), but he seemed less clumsy than they were.
Turning to Mabel, Cam offered, "Do you want to grab one side of the pane and I'll grab the other, and we can slot them in? Carefully."
Stuff like this wasn't Cam's forte, and they really didn't want to break any of Mabel's limited supply of glass.
Cam offers to help put the panes in with Mabel.
cameron ?
"Cameras" by Ennev is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0
Striving not to be self-conscious or overly excited about their success (she knew better), the youth nodded at their motives and choice of direction. “Carefully,” she insinuated and echoed, hands striving not to shake or quake at the thought. Neither impetuousness or scrupulous indications had ever gotten her very far.
Time to try anyway.
Aamu’s preparations went well, and the area for sliding panes within were cleaned quickly, efficiently, nothing of the shards and remains left in the way. Where the error that came next truly lain was difficult to decipher – but it was likely Mabel and Cameron both with either nerves, lack of concentration, or sheer misfortune rearing its head.
For no sooner had they raised the sheet of glass upwards, did it begin to slide, threatening to crash and burn, to shatter upon the ground. Mabel’s reflexes did nothing to aid – naught more than a fumble of fingers, and Cameron just barely held on.
Breathing inwardly, and barely lifting her head, the youth clambered for more support. “Aamu, can you help us?” No more than a whisper in the strain – but perhaps all three of them, together, could slide them within.
and I've only got my brittle bones to break the fall
His care pays off, and he doesn't slice up his fingers to smear the oily reanimation fluids over skin and windowframes. The occasional sound of glass breaking as he manipulates it is oddly satisfying.
Once he's done paving the way for Mabel and Cameron he steps back, begins to drift away to peer at something or another—he may be close to physically tireless but the strain of concentration remains, and he's starting to feel a little worn. It'll be nice to get this done, maybe invite Cameron in and lay a fire, cook up some tea and just enjoy the fruits of hard labor—
There's something wrong.
It's the tense stillness, as if the slightest movement may shatter the world, or as if a movement a tad too slow will be too late. Aamu whirls around to look at them, spots the danger as Mabel whispers her plea and he—he's scared of fucking this up when she's actually asking for his help.
He doesn't dare respond but quickly moves over, trying to assess the situation and figure out where to put his hands to stabilize things and let them recover, regain control.
Ah, there was the clumsy Cameron that they themself knew so well. They clung to the pane, feeling it slipping out of their sweaty, fumbling fingers -- they could tell that it was too late, that the balance had shifted and that pane was on its way out.
Maybe Aamu could grab it, though, if Cam could hang on just a little longer. They shifted their grip a bit, trying to keep the pane suspended at least for long enough for Aamu to catch it, no matter how much it strained their not-exactly-impressive muscles. They'd rather feel a bit more tired than lose some of Mabel's precious supply of glass.
Cam tries to hold the pane until Aamu can grab it!
cameron ?
"Cameras" by Ennev is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0
Were it not for Aamu again (gold star sir, really), the same angles of confusion, clumsiness, and footfalls would’ve occurred. While Mabel and Cameron fumbled, increasingly awful with each window pane (why), the more experienced Ascended readily came to their aid.
And after that, they could slide the pane in, and continue, persistent, unfaltering, unyielding (even when perhaps they should). In between breaks, the windows were finished, and everything else led up to completion. Scorch marks would remain until she could figure out how those would yield away, or stay – it mattered very little to her right now.
“Thank you so much,” she obliged, really and truly meaning it. And then Cameron could be invited for whichever refreshments and things they required; or whatever was in stock in the large kitchen area.
--
You guys rock! Thank you!
FIN <3
Let's go to war to make peace Let's be cold to create heat
