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!
Especially after receiving Mildew's prophecy -- she should have been more careful, she should have expected danger, she shouldn't have gone out after dark ...
Isn't that what they always say?
None of these thoughts were in Arialla's mind as she bid the family who'd hosted her for seasons now, who were almost her family now, farewell for the last time. She simply closed the door with a cheery goodbye as she headed out to try to grab a last-minute missing item before all the stores closed. In the future, she wouldn't even remember what she had been looking for.
Smiling, carrying a basket with a covered bowl of the fresh stew she planned to use as payment -- courtesy of her hosts -- Arialla made her way through the now-familiar Haulani streets, thinking nothing of it when she decided to use a deserted alley as a shortcut.
She was from a small town. She'd never really had to think about the possibility of being randomly attacked by a stranger. At home, there were no strangers.
When the young woman entered the alleyway, it had been empty. By the time she had come halfway through to the other side, it was not anymore. The shadowed figure simply appeared right before Arialla, in the faintest of sighs; at the same time a curious odor came wafting along on a night breeze. Fresh, pungent, acrid and sharp all at once, it could only be described as clear. A destillation of pure air at its cleanest. A scent that might linger in the mind, inescapable.
The figure looked around. Deliberated, perhaps, or hesitated; it was hard to tell. Then it focused its attention on Arialla.
Draped from head to toe in dark rags, the cloth obscured everything save a sliver of pale skin around the eyes, and equally pale hands. The figure straightened to its full height - half a head shorter than the woman, if even that - and raised a hand towards her. Lightning crackled forth, seeking a target to stun; there was deliberation in the gesture, and purpose in the quick strides that brought the figure closer to the woman.
This was not random. This was not a courtesy call.
Type: Grey
Binary Teleportation Upgrade | Can teleport up to 30ft OR to an adjacent board. Requires a 2 post cool-down between uses.
Type: Grey
Electrical Touch Upgrade (Upgraded) | Can complete electrical circuits in the user's palm which release a current of electricity. This bolt can extend 10ft and be maintained with concentration. Can cause disorientation and muscle-malfunction.
Isn't it lovely, all alone? Heart made of glass, my mind of stone
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
Arialla blinked and stepped back when the figure appeared in front of her, more confused than afraid. Yes, someone had just appeared out of nowhere, but things like that happened in Caido. Maybe they were a new Outlander? "Hello, can I -- "
And then lightning struck Arialla, screaming through her nervous system. She tried to scream, too, but made only a strangled little noise. The basket fell from her limp hand, the stew within spilling onto the weave, as she started to slump forward, towards her attacker. In her mind, she was running, calling out, fighting back -- but her body wouldn't obey, just twitched with the aftereffects of the shock. She was helpless.
Once in motion, the figure did not pause, or hesitate. It was a dice set to rolling, a pebble dislodged. Only time would tell whether it would remain a singular event, or the catalyst of a landslide to shake the world.
Stepping purposely into the path of the woman as she fell forward, cool hands caught her and guided her roughly aside, around, to be thrust face first up against a wall. Electricity kept pulsing out from those hands in a steady rythm, to ensure the continued immobility of the prey.
That is what she was now. Mere prey. Only a pebble, and nothing more.
Slipping in behind her, the shadow reached up and pulled a cover from its face. Should Arialla turn her head, she might catch a glimpse of skin pale as milk, of hard eyes without color. A cheek might be glimpsed, unexpectedly round and soft for someone so cold. Another quick flash of that pale hand ripped sharply at the neckline of the devout woman's garb, to expose tender skin.
There was no pause after that, either. Reaching up - because the dark-garbed figure had to lean up on tippy toes for this - a mouth was opened. Sharp fangs were bared. And then they struck, to pierce into skin and spill blood.
Type: Grey
Electrical Touch Upgrade (Upgraded) | Can complete electrical circuits in the user's palm which release a current of electricity. This bolt can extend 10ft and be maintained with concentration. Can cause disorientation and muscle-malfunction.
Isn't it lovely, all alone? Heart made of glass, my mind of stone
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
Arialla gasped, shuddered, tried to struggle in the figure's grip, but to no avail. She wanted to fight back; in her mind, she could feel her eagle's claws tearing into flesh, making her attacker regret this apparently random choice. If she could just get them to back off -- get some space -- maybe she could even take wing and leave this entire issue behind.
But she couldn't. She couldn't move; she didn't even manage to look at her attacker. Just twitching, paralyzed, helpless, like some small and pathetic animal. That was, truly, all she was at the moment: a worthless body. Meat.
The wall felt shockingly rough against Arialla's face, though a distant part of her marveled that she even felt it; she should have been a little distracted right now. When her attacker tore her shirt, she inhaled sharply, fearing that she recognized the nature of this attack -- she was wrong, but what happened next was hardly any better. She was already in pain, from the shock, but the pain that blossomed through her now felt different, a ripping and tearing at her throat, certainly not a gentle pinprick. For a moment she thought her attacker had torn her throat open; she thought she would bleed out and die. And was she wrong?
Bleeding was the point. Helplessness too, perhaps, and most certainly pain. It would be offset by flashes of other sensations perhaps, because these fangs secreted substances that triggered sensory stimulation. Some mimicry of pleasure might be felt, but would certainly not be encouraged.
If the small assailant felt anything of the sort, it expressed only in the tightening of the hands around Arialla's arms. Beyond that, there was only the hasty, greedy gulps as scarlet lifeblood was swallowed down. Mouthful after mouthful, sucked out when it wouldn't flow fast enough. It spilled out through the corners of plush lips, dribbling down the woman's collarbone. Hot against a nightly breeze that might have been stifling, or too cold.
Yet for all that seemingly wanton brutality, there was a calculation to the figured person's actions. At one point the hand that wasn't pulsing electricity reached up to press fingers against the woman's neck. Feeling for a pulse. Measuring, and calculating.
Isn't it lovely, all alone? Heart made of glass, my mind of stone
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
I am going to die. Arialla felt a sort of clarity as blood drained from her shuddering body. She was in so much pain -- so overwhelmed with sensation, pain and more -- that she shouldn't have been able to think at all, but somehow her thoughts came quick and horribly clear. But there was only one: I am going to die. I am going to die. I am going to die.
She didn't think to ask why. In that moment, as blood and thought seeped out through the hole in her neck, she didn't need a reason. No reason could have sufficed anyway. It wasn't that she wanted to die, or that she wanted to live; she was beyond wanting. Wishes, hopes, dreams, everything that made her a person: they all slipped away. She was nothing. She didn't exist. She didn't matter.
Arialla stopped even trying to fight back. She waited to die.
05-07-2021, 05:40 PM (This post was last modified: 05-07-2021, 05:41 PM by Maea.)
MAEA
It was in the nature of the living to die. Sooner or later, all things perished. Mountains returned to gravel, trees became soil, and even stars burned out. It was only a matter of when.
Fortunately for Arialla - or unfortunately, perhaps, depending on ones inclination - this night was not her time. When the throb of heartbeats began to slow against pale fingers, and the spurt of blood into a waiting maw began to falter, the dark figure suddenly withdrew. Fangs dislodged and hands relinquished their grip with an abruptness that spoke of distaste.
Left there, to stand, teeter or fall as she pleased, the assailant quickly covered up its face again and began to walk away. The sound of footsteps echoed between the buildings, steadily increasing their pace. A scream cut abruptly through the quiet of the night; shrill and piercing, it could have come from the robed person. Or perhaps from the street beyond.
But by the time worried voices could be heard approaching the alley, the shadow would already be gone. Disappeared, as though swallowed up by the very air itself.
Arialla would not die tonight, if the residents of Torchline were quick enough.
Type: Grey
Binary Teleportation Upgrade | Can teleport up to 30ft OR to an adjacent board. Requires a 2 post cool-down between uses.
Isn't it lovely, all alone? Heart made of glass, my mind of stone
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
As her assailant moved away, Arialla leaned against the rough wall: once a weapon used against her, it now became her sanctuary, the only solid thing left in her life. Her legs shook like a newborn fawn's, and even the wall could not keep her upright; she collapsed to the ground in an inelegant heap. She let out a low, keening moan.
It was over; it was all over. She was, still, waiting to die, feeling her life drain out through the wound in her neck, almost depleted, her heart fluttering weakly in a dutiful, futile attempt to push what little blood remained through her veins -- an attempt that only made matters worse, as each heartbeat leaked more blood through her torn throat.
