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!
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
A preferred bottle, hidden in the back of corner of the cabinet, wasn’t immune to his long reach, and he slid it across the cabinet layers, before plucking it and settling it along the counter. Aisha had already acquiesced, and he snorted something in return, handing her glass, and tucking his and the container into his grasp. Within moments, he’d left her behind with a smirk over his shoulder, hastening down the halls, and out towards the training grounds – still listening, still responding.
Aisha wasn’t wrong about Safrin’s merits, nor the levels of manipulation potentially behind the insinuations. It was why he’d always tried to tread as lightly as he could; though perhaps even that was far gone now. “Fair assessment,” he extended, another shrug undulating through his brawn as they entered the training proportions, his strides swift and keen, heading towards the incline at the climbing wall’s outsets. “I think it is wise to be cautious with all of them.”
The monolith then started the gradual hike upwards, drink and glass still in tow, glancing down at her for half a moment, and then narrowing his eyes as he plunged onward. Safrin had been able to see inside his mind – all the thoughts, all the emotions, all the god damned walls, and knew exactly where to pinpoint, where to hit. There’d been a keen amount. “I do not know – we never got that far.” A laugh, though a little more hollowed. “But I am tired of her negative influence on the lands. She caused the blight, and I have a suspicion it was much the same in this second bout of sickness.” Massive, expansive suffering, even at the aches and pains of her own this time, was a curious faction – but then he rounded his eyes back upon the fellow Attuned, waiting for her to scrape upwards too. “Where do you think you stand?”
04-15-2021, 04:28 PM (This post was last modified: 04-15-2021, 04:29 PM by Aisha.)
what will you do when the vultures come for you, run and hide?
Deimos was finished preparing their glasses and choosing his relaxing agent from the shelves, Aisha snatched the glass from him with a hum and hopped off her stool following him back through the halls and out into the cold once more. She would've liked to stay by the fire, but this was what Deimos wanted to do, and she had insisted he take some time for himself. She was just along for the ride.
They were headed towards the climbing wall as they spoke of Safrin, Deimos giving some kind of agreement to her evaluation. She didn't expect him to fully concur as Safrin was his favored deity, but she was glad that at least he understood where she was coming from. Aisha's home didn't have gods anyways, trusting them at all felt difficult to her. "I am, but I'm curious too," she replied as they began the small hike up the slope.
The Voice had caused plenty of suffering, that Aisha was sure of. She had no reason to think Deimos had rushed head strong into his assumptions about her part in the blight, she wouldn't put it past the new goddess. Even her own children weren't free of her wrath, but were any of them really protected by their loving patrons? "I'm not sure," came her answer with a shake of her head. She would love to have a definite steadfast conclusion to share, but she was not there yet.
"I know that eventually I'll have to pick a side, but I don't really trust any of the gods with our lives. I think whatever I choose it will be based on my family, I belong with them," she said, glancing back up when she felt the general's gaze, "with you." For at some point she had begun to consider him and the other Halovians something like that. The family she'd made, and the family she'd stand with.
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
Once they’d crested the proportions, Deimos sat along the edge of the wall, content with his long legs dangling over the edge; as if it were a mountain summit, a peak he’d once clambered over and conquered. From there, they could see rooftops and Citadel barriers, the dark partitions stark over the frozen world, the patches of sunlight still working through heavier clouds – the world at their beck and call in the smallest of proportions. The monolith took a moment to breathe it all in, a very quiet sigh solidified in his chest, and then pervading in the air as plumes and fumes, absorbing the cold, the chill, deep into his bones. An instant later, he turned towards where he’d placed the liquor, and then maneuvered to fill both of their glasses, when Aisha was content and ready.
Curiosity over gods was a comprehensible notion – he’d been the same, even if it was once immersed and mired in rancor. “They have much more influence here.” Incredible amounts by the standards he’d held in Isilme and Helovia – coming to beck and call on their favored ones, while both of his former lands tended to have broken, dilapidated shrines and occasional appearances by the deities of the world. “What parts are you curious about?” Not that he could proffer a wealth of information; the sentiments of even having a favored herald were still fresh, a foreign concept for him. If anything, he could always point her towards someone who did hold stronger foundations.
The uncertainty in her voice didn’t bear an ill will in the back of his mind either – the circumstances were simply wearing down, a colossal impact, an overbearing foreshadowing cloaking edges of the horizon. She’d been amongst them to offer Remi some assistance in building defenses amidst the Greatwood, though that didn’t necessitate any great tie to the Old Gods. Perhaps she had tethers to some Ascended as well. Which made the notions that much more difficult. “I wanted a choice while it was still an option.” Before they were forced into roles they may not like; chafe at the chains, at the lines drawn in the sand. The Sword curled his grasp around his glass, lifted it to his lips, drank down several swallows; let it simmer against his throat for a moment. “Some control.” Which sometimes came in little granules here, like dust and ash, picked over and carried off by the wind.
But then she continued talking, and his gaze flickered away from the landscape, and back to her. “Very wise of you,” to not fully trust the gods, to not place her life in their palms, to not batter into storms she wasn’t ready for. It was her following words though that gave him the most pause – stare widening for a fraction of a second, before a very juvenile, boyish smile curled along his mouth again.
Kin, brethren – even when they had lost some proportions of those intricacies from their previous lives – the notions still managed to clamber on. Found and made, not by blood, but by bonds, chiseled and carved by their own makings and choices. And sometimes, that was even better – when one could pick those they cherished the most. “You are part of my family too,” he admitted; tilting his head so the Cheshire grin grew rampant. “So in one way or another, we will stand together.” A firm nod thereafter, solidifying the moment with another raise of his glass.
what will you do when the vultures come for you, run and hide?
Aisha joined Deimos at the peak of the slope, perched on the stone wall with her glass in hand. She let her own legs dangle over the edge as well, leaned forwards with one palm on the cobble beside her, the other reached out with the glass for Deimos to fill. As he did she gazed out at the horizon, beyond where Deimos looked within the citadel's walls and to the white world beyond. So far, all ice and snow, so much that she loved and had become a part of.
"Many different things. What is the extent of their powers and why do they need us to aid them in their wars, that's a big question," she answered with a hint of spite in the huff that accompanied. If the gods were so powerful and all encompassing why did they need mortals like them, why mettle in their lives and send them to war? "I'd like to meet them, the heralds at least, I think experiencing them first hand would be the most helpful."
His next words did strike her, make her think. A choice while it was still an option, early better than later. For at some point, no matter how indifferent or spiteful she felt, one side would claim her and send her to battle. And it might end up being the wrong one. She gave a deep nod, a long hmm, sipping from the glass as she ruminated on the concepts. Losing control was something she dreaded, she'd thought she was keeping it by staying out of it.
But perhaps she was just setting herself up to lose it all.
Still her sentiment would remain, alongside the caution she pondered. Even if she did begin to claim an allegiance, it would never overshadow her loyalty to those she cared about. Those mortal ties would hold strong within, not matter who she prayed to. She loved the way he paused, how her words surprised him and made him smile. They were sincere together, but mischievous all the same, and his own warm reply had her grinning too. She raised her glass to clink with his before downing the rest.
"That's sentimental Deimos, I think relaxing is working out for you," she chided, glass offered back to him so he might fill it with more liquor.
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
Aisha’s insights and inquiries were fair – machinations he would’ve calculated and conjured at some point, had he not already been so immersed in the thresholds. Maybe they were merely fodder, another round of mortals meant to make up the armies, the might, the menace, a generation of fools, tyrants, and believers. Perhaps it was a cyclical act, and they were striving to overcome the notions of it ever occurring again, trying to break apart history’s chains. Or it was none of those things, and merely greed, merely happenstance, merely a formation of all these other angles coming to fruition, binding together in a threatening, vehement loop; nooses for all. Spine now straight, his eyes lingered over the edges of the Citadel walls, out along the plains of ice and rime, raising the glass to his mouth, swallowing more of the liquid before continuing. “From the little I understand of it, the Voice became too powerful.” And so other things had to happen, had to coincide; locked away in the barrier of the Grounds for hundreds of years.
And now here they were.
A grunt of agreement coiled through him on her herald presumptions; at the very least she’d be able to garnish something else for a response. Judge on her own knowledge. Surmise something from those granules, rather than secondhand sagacities. “Which one will you try first?” And as long as she wasn’t cursed again, everything would probably be fine.
The long silence thereafter his statements about choice and control told him not to push, not to pressure, not to continue in its subject line; the shield would need her own wiles, her own thoughts, her own modicums to formulate where she’d pondered and wondered. It wasn’t an easy decision, and if he hadn’t been thrown into other pathways, other alterations, other manifestations for so long, the Sword might’ve taken a vastly different approach too.
But the quiet was broken apart by her words, by his resounding laugh to follow, the glasses clinking, the chuckle reverberating while he refilled her cup. “I have always been sentimental.” His nose wrinkled, boyish and juvenile again, finally over the walls of nonchalant, reticent masks. “I just do not tell any of you.” Instead, it came out in his creations: in the little works of art amidst the weapons and adornments he concocted for those he cherished.
what will you do when the vultures come for you, run and hide?
Aisha cocked her head, taking another swig as she pondered his question. Safrin she'd met, Ludo had meddled in her life but not interacted directly, and Frey she'd met briefly with Morgan and Chulane. Something about them had intrigued her, purely that and nothing fonder. She refused now to offer praise to the deities until they'd earned her respect, just as her own conviction of self sufficiency.
"I think I'd like to talk more with Frey. They've helped Halo which means they're interested in us as more than soldiers at least, I'd like to hear what they have to say," she answered, and thereafter the talk of gods fizzled away. Thoughts for a later date, once the woman had formed further ties of her own.
These ties present here and now were strong enough, she laughed through the clinking glass, his reply. "Well there you go, you're talking. It's amazing," she snorted at that, shaking her head lightly with the amusement.
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
Another long drink followed on refilling his own cup, listening all the while – if he was surprised by her choice, he didn’t show it. “They might be helpful with your guild as well.” Nature affiliated, conspiring and contorting amongst and amidst the creatures, the flora, the fauna, of this earth. Aisha might be able to unravel or entangle multiple myths, histories, and potential from discourse and conversations with the herald of Rae. He hadn’t thought about them as being invested in more than just soldiers for the upcoming war – like Ludo or Safrin – and he nodded at the insinuation. Just for humor, he arched his brow and permitted the slide of his juvenile smile to reappear. “And hopefully no more curses. I cannot listen to another round of pouting.”
Laughing again, the wild exuberance of the noise launching and echoing out over the wall and rooftops, his eyes went back down to his glass, to the folds of everything far below them. “I always thought it was safer not to say anything.” But he’d come from worlds where one statement could do overwhelming damage, depending on who it got back to – which spies were in motion, which secrets had been unfurled. “I will keep working on it.” A nod amidst the vow and assurance, either to himself, to her, or overall distinctions.
what will you do when the vultures come for you, run and hide?
It was true, perhaps rather than going to Frey in search of magical items and things of the sort, she could go in search of information, garner secrets and plans. As Deimos said, they would be the one to go to regarding Caido's nature, and that included all the dangerous creatures, did it not? Worth a shot, "Smart, Frey it is then," she confirmed. His jibe received and eye roll, "You try being an ice cube for three months, then come back and talk to me."
"Safe is boring, it can lose you as many friends as it can help you keep," she replied, just an observation from her own social history. But who knows, it might help him too. He assured that he would work on being more open, and Aisha nodded, gave a clap to his shoulder. "Mhm, I'm sure you will," another tease, but so was their relationship. She gazed back out at the palace and the shimmer ice. The beautiful frozen world around them.
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
Deimos was very careful in not comparing suffering circumstances – he would have gladly taken being frozen for three months over certain aspects and events of his life here, including heartbreak, lost, dead friends, and a culmination of failures lined up one by one by one. So she received nothing but a vague eye roll in return, narrowing his gaze slightly in efforts to tide and hide away the barrage building behind them, and eased a very careful sigh through his chest. He tucked those sentiments and ruminations into the depths of his glass, taking another swallow before meandering along lighter, easier topics. “You have a lot to be proud of.” All the motions, all the means, all the measures accomplished – something else that ensured Halo’s growth and dominion. “Do you need anything else for the guild?” She seemed well set, and talk had been swift, sure, keen, and curious amidst the chatter along streets and in between barrages of swords.
His brows furrowed at her mention of safe being boring; giving himself a moment of quiet reflection. How many had he misplaced then, in his need for quiet? In his methods of not being damaged or destroyed?
Because it had happened anyway – as if his efforts had meant very little. Those who were still close were there for a reason, perhaps, and sometimes he had to wonder how he’d managed to maintain or have any friends at all. “Right,” he murmured, a low whisper, keeping the semblance tucked in the back of his mind – for safe-keeping, amidst all the other plots, facets, and machinations. The heathen straightened his head back up again, at some point he’d taken to staring at the ground, at her clapping gesture, and billowed another snort.
what will you do when the vultures come for you, run and hide?
Did she need anything else for the guild? Aisha snorted a laugh, "You as a member would be lovely." It was playful, not accusatory or disappointed, but they would be better with him. Aisha placed her glass down, leaning back against her palms, "All your favorites are with me, what's one more responsibility?" she teased, sarcastic in the rumble of her tone.
She could see his thoughts forming and changing with the angle of his brows, he took her words and considered them. His glance to the ground was brief, Aisha's pat brought him back to her level. She wanted to keep the festive mood going, "Drink left?" she asked, picking up her glass and offering it to him. If not, a quick trip inside wouldn't ruin anything.
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
His brows lifted sharply at her insinuation, twisting his head back to meet her gaze in a rare moment of surprise, before they fell to their residual reticence. Half a smile lingered in there too, wary and uncertain in its proximity, muting the sigh curling from his chest. Maybe it was the notion of one more responsibility weighing heavily on his shoulders, already burdened with a multitude of other semblances and duties, that caused the doubts, the speculations, the trepidation in the back of his throat. Truth be told, the General rarely, actively pursued monsters – unless they were endangering citizens nearby, or he had the eventual run-in with one because they inevitably turned up in some manner of danger and disaster. “What would I have to do?” His tones were cautious, perhaps overly so, not inclining into one array or another; calculating, as he so often did.
Deimos managed to prosper a light laugh though, when he recalled he did have some additional pieces to add to her notebooks. “I came across something in the Mistbanks that might be interesting.” Instead of rifling through his pockets, he merely produced a piece of parchment and charcoal in his hands, contorted, created quickly, simply, leaning down to construct the drawing of the water-borne equine. “Rose out of the lake. Offered me a ride,” another chuckle for distinction, as he bolded the lines of its mane, and then handed it over to the guildmaster. Thereafter, to both of their credits, somehow there was some of the liquor left, and he poured the dregs and remains into her glass, passing it back.
what will you do when the vultures come for you, run and hide?
Oh don't feign surprise Deimos! Of course Aisha would want you by her side, you are hunting partners after all. Aisha grinned up at his surprise, waiting for his excuse, tease, reason he couldn't take on another responsibility. And of course, she had just argued against him doing so, but this was different not really but Aisha wants Deimos on the team. "Not much if you didn't want to, your involvement is up to you. If you see a hunt you would like to join, join it, but I'm not going to make you," she replied.
"A few meetings every now and then, that's all I'd really ask," she shrugged. He did have some more knowledge for her, regardless of an answer. He produced a drawing, an elegant water horse, Aisha took it eagerly and looked it over. A friendly creature apparently, she smiled at the mental image of the general on a waterhorse's back. She folded up the paper and stashed it in a pocket as Deimos poured the last of the drink for her.
"I'll visit and try and see one for myself then," she said, taking a sip from her glass.
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
Aisha made it sound like a hobby, rather than something to readily immerse himself within. He snorted, capable of seeing, of sensing, some manner of manipulation, but wanting to believe in it just the same. Maybe it was another place amongst brethren and kin, family and friends, rather than one more threshold where he willingly threw himself out in front of others, where he shielded and sheltered. The Artisan’s Guild was long since gone – but it’d been a safe venue, where wares had been concocted, where he could work and manifest, create and contort. Monster hunting wouldn’t be the same – he’d gone on some other events before – but applying his knowledge, his experiences, in Caido, and learning from another’s (especially if anything else should ever happen again – not quite a stretch or a leap given this world) could be beneficial. So it sounded like an echo, but a promise too. “I can try, then.” Acceptance in the simplest of forms, from a soul already pulled into thousands of directions, willing and able to go to great lengths for those he cherished.
Finishing off the rest of his glass, he considered creation efforts simply for the sake of refilling the empty bottle – and then shrugged, doing so anyway, quietly, contentedly, conforming the vastness into the rich liquid once more. Only thereafter did he arch his brow to gauge her reaction to the water horse, pausing in lines of a furrowed brow and further thought. “Just be careful. It did not seem happy when I declined.” Though it could’ve been a combination of all the other rooted resentments flickering around the abyss.
what will you do when the vultures come for you, run and hide?
He would see her cheeks rise and fill with the smile, her eyes creased, "Finally, I thought I might not be able to do it." Whatever level of involvement Deimos offered, Aisha would accept. And knowing him, he'd do his share. She hoped it might be somewhat of a relaxing venture, not entirely hinged on the increments and statutes of battle and war, but also on exploration and research. Maybe he'd find solace in their communal space, the sharing of knowledge of all kinds.
She watched him with interest as he thought over the bottle, to fill or not to fill. She certainly had a preference, and when he conjured more of the golden drink, she smirked her approval. Of the water horse, it wasn't so kind as she'd thought. "What'd it do?" she asked, swishing a whirlpool in her glass before taking another sip. The effects were beginning to hit, the edge of the city was looking both closer and farther than before.
