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!
05-18-2021, 08:29 PM (This post was last modified: 05-18-2021, 08:29 PM by Remi.)
the tightrope that i'm walking just sways and ties, the devil as he's talking with those angel's eyes
Were Remi privy to the concerns of his best friend, things would have turned out very differently indeed. But Isla is less than a whisper in the rapidly burning atmosphere, and so it is that the Lullaby moves on to his second victim of the evening.
"What happened to—" The woman wants to know. Feeble and fighting off some infection or other, her presence stirs something in the back of Remi's mind that makes his smile a good deal more sad than it might otherwise have been. "He is fine." Remi interrupts reassuringly as he parts her curtain and takes a seat next to her. "He made it out of the fire. And now it is your turn." Reaching for her hand, his fingers cover her warn and age-spotted skin with a boyish reverence and love unfitting this stranger. "But before we do...tell me...have you any children..?"
So it is that her final moments are spent on a sunny white-stoned patio with a few sticky-fingered children cackling around the woman's ankles. Behind them the sea sparkles beneath a hot sun. "How beautiful they are."
And then she too is gone.
Remi kills patient 2.
THE ALCHEMIST
but i just want to be there when the lightning strikes & the saints go marching in
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
He isn't listening - none of them are. And the second of Isla's patients is taken from the world; mercifully yes, but still well before their time. "Remi," she begins again, her eyes already streaming and only partially because of the smoke. But he doesn't see her or hear her, and if she were to try and grab onto him, she doubts he would feel her either.
But he might be able to react to the consequences of anything she does. So with both of her wards passed on, and with water potentially on the way (but it will be too late, surely), Isla drags a chair across to the wall, climbing upon it to open the windows almost obscured by the smoke.
This won't do any good for the fire - it will only feed it if anything - but at the same time, she might be able to haul her way to freedom.
Isla opens the windows in the examination room to try and haul herself out to safety.
Isla has never been anyone's damsel in distress; with ease, she is able to drag the chair to the window, open it, and begin to haul herself up and out. Given that she doesn't need to breathe, she might find that some of her inner mechanics are a bit gummy thanks to all the smoke, but otherwise, she's no worse for wear. There's a bit of a drop on the other side of the window, but she'll be able to shake it off.
I can give you freedom from your guilt with a flick of my wrist
Useless lot. It must be her lucky day! “Everybody out then!” It is a command to the last few stragglers, and Nephele herds behind them like a particularly ominous winged terrier.
On speedy wings she flies around the external walls, searching for stragglers and devotedly continuing the helpful facade that will become her alibi. As she sees a window open and smoke plume out, she moves closer, burned arm held tight to her belly. “Are you alright?” she calls down to the figure, unsure of the woman’s race but moving closer to the earth all the same. She has succeeded in her mission; tempting fate by sliding Lasracha across Isla’s throat is unnecessary, especially if she can create a bond here. “There are no Abandoned to help with the flames. Are you hurt? We need to get you away from the fire.” Good hand extends in a gesture of help and friendship, hazel eyes concerned and body language exuding a need to usher the both of them away. Perhaps Isla will make the connection that Nephele had been the one offering water help at the door and will reach for the Fae’s hand.
- - -
Nephele leaves the Temple and scouts the outside, offering help to Isla at the window.
the tightrope that i'm walking just sways and ties, the devil as he's talking with those angel's eyes
The woman's hand falls away as slowly as her smile does. It's then that the Lullaby notices a chair move across the floor...curtains parting, and a window opening. Never one to leave bodies behind if he could help it, the alchemist must bring the man and woman out one by one. Picking the woman up gingerly, wings sprout from the alchemist's shoulder blades as he moves toward the strangely open window. (He'll deal with that uncertainty in a minute). Large as Remi is, he can't fit himself and another through the window. Though others might hesitate as the prospect of what flits through the alchemist's mind, the Lullaby does not.
The woman is already dead. The man, too.
Pushing her lifeless body out of the window first (and as it happens, right onto Isla), Remi goes back and retrieves the man and does much the same. It takes a bit more doing when it comes to the second body, but he manages. Unable to fit through himself, winged and broad-shouldered, the alchemist shifts into the body of a hawk that he might easily flutter through, and then shifts again on the other side as he descends to recapture the two bodies.
Remi shoves the two bodies out of the window (onto Isla), shifts, and then flies out the window as well.
THE ALCHEMIST
but i just want to be there when the lightning strikes & the saints go marching in
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Isla is free and, if she were the type to still breathe air, it would probably never smell sweeter. Dropping from the window and into the foliage, she barely has time to get her bearings before she's flattened to the ground by a corpse.
With nary a moment to scream her alarm (because what the fucking fuck, Remi), another body lands and drives her further into the hard dirt. And y'know what?
Isla takes a second. The fire still feels as if it's chasing at her heels and every sensor in her body is screaming to panic and run and tear her way out of the weight that pins her down, and that is no way to deal with the situation.
So after a minute, during which time (unbeknownst to her) Remi has landed and shifted, she moves to get up, only for the weight to promptly disappear. "What?" she says, helpfully.
I can give you freedom from your guilt with a flick of my wrist
Nephele may not be able to see in the dark, but she can at least tell the smoke is billowing out the open window, which keeps her lingering around even when her search comes up fruitless at first. At least the thud of dead bodies and a disoriented word are enough to draw her closer. “Where are you? Do you need help?” Perhaps repeating it in a louder voice will help.
Nephele keeps her feet off the ground just in case, trying to keep searching for the noise and whatever is making it. The smoke is acrid in her throat, but it burns like victory all the same. “Can you speak?” Maybe smoke inhalation is impairing their throat; perhaps thrashing around in the bushes like an alligator in a death roll would work in lieu of words then. Nephele hopes whoever is laying down there is creative enough to think of that.
- - -
Nephele tries to find the lump of bodies both dead and alive.
the tightrope that i'm walking just sways and ties, the devil as he's talking with those angel's eyes
With as much as Remi can lift, it doesn't make sense to say that the bodies are heavier for their deaths or his mistreatment of their corpses. Still, there is something in the way they sag against him that feels accusatory. Only...
'Isla?' It's the type of moment that were this a dream, might have been enough to jar Remi into consciousness. But dreams have been under his jurisdiction long enough that unless this was Ludo's doing, Remi was very much awake. "What are you.." Pulling himself back with one body over each shoulder, he hasn't any remaining limbs to offer her that he might help her to her feet. "The infirmary is on fire." He adds unhelpfully, not having the mental forethought to put two and two together that the magic moving of the window and chair, and now finding Isla beneath the window, might in fact stand in direct relation to the burning infirmary.
"Are you alright?"
Post-murder though this might be, Remi can't help the way his shoulders sag somewhat with relief and joy to see Isla. 'Are—oh?' Glancing over his shoulder as Nephele arrives, the alchemist looks back toward the medic as if she might know why a fae of all races, was here below the window as well.
THE ALCHEMIST
but i just want to be there when the lightning strikes & the saints go marching in
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
There are a lot of things that Isla wants to say as Remi peeps down at her as if nothing has happened. Or as if it has all happened, but she wasn't a part of it. Things like what the fuck and why didn't you see me and you killed my patients. But all that comes out is a small hum of agreement as she looks up at billowing smoke and the amber glow of pressing flames. "Yes," she says softly, "it is on fire."
Clambering to her feet, she's just in time to see Nephele swoop down. Perhaps one day in the near future she'll think about the things she's heard and seen, and question it a little more. But for now? There's too much happening to even question what a Fae is doing in the Hollowed Grounds. "We can speak. These two didn't make it, though," she says, nodding to the bodies over Remi's shoulders.
I can give you freedom from your guilt with a flick of my wrist
Woah. That’s a lot more bodies - two dead, as the woman points out - than she’d anticipated. Oops, sorry Ludo. She lands once she has found them, squinting in the dark. Remi is at least familiar in the vague sort of way most humans look to her.
Cradling her burned arm, she offers the other hand to Isla as she sees Remi holding the bodies. “I tried to get through, but I didn’t know there were others. I ensured the rest have evacuated at least.” None of it a lie, and so it rolls off her tongue like oil. “Come, we need to get further away. You are the last.” With that she aims to either guide Isla forward by the hand or hover near them, unwilling to lose them in the dark again.
She doesn’t dare smile when she turns to see the smoke against the moon, but the monster inside howls joyously at the victory.
Even if the trio runs for supplies, the infirmary and all within will have succumbed to the flames by the time they return. Though the exterior is made of stone, Isla's medical charts, operating equipment, and all the treatment rooms she has so carefully prepared, all go up in smoke and flame.
