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!
06-24-2021, 09:41 PM (This post was last modified: 06-24-2021, 09:43 PM by Lena.)
Lena
and sweetest in the gale is heard and sore must be the storm
The Caretaker would never admit that she was slightly overwhelmed, but there was a feeling of general flustering with the amount of work to be done and piling up. In between tending to the sick or wounded animals, she’d been striving to collect enough herbs to administer some soothing, mending qualities to the creatures – but that had been put by the wayside as influxes seemed to saunter in throughout the days.
Eventually, Lena had to admit she might need assistance, so after putting out a notice on the boards, the youth went towards her favored stall, where she kept a ready amount of supplies. Except by now it looked like a bit of disaster zone, with plants hanging, vials everywhere, treats scattered across the floor, her basket tossed elsewhere; all in a haste to get the rest of her work accomplished day in and day out. The animals always came first.
Hopefully some others would be willing to help, and then the Celestine could be in fine, proper, working order again.
--
PQ to establish Lena’s profession check and help organize portions of the Celestine!
Open to anyone. <3 Thank you!
1.
2.
that could abash the little bird that kept so many warm
The gentle caretaker’s request for assistance has not gone unnoticed, and Falke is only too happy to lend a helping hand. He’s feeling remarkably well and able, with a spring in his step and a smile on his face. Ophelia decides to tag along, loping along at the Fixer’s heels and chittering at the world as it passes high above her.
He makes his way to the heart of the Celestine - more stalls than open enclosures - and honestly, he finds it just as fascinating and the larger habitats. Three sharp raps announce the Fixer’s presence before Phi can come charging in behind him, eager to greet Lena again - and oh there are treats on the floor! She does a quick direction change to snag the nearest one while Falke just raises an eyebrow.
“Really, Phi? Like you don’t get enough at home?” Mock insulted, he turns back to Lena. “Hello!” a bright and cheery greeting, for a bright and cheery person. “We’re here to help, as requested.”
Outside of the Temple, the Celestine is the place in Stormbreak where Amalia feels safest, most herself. She's taken countless long walks through the exhibits and habitats, offering warm greetings and waves of healing to the newcomers, making friends with the old. It's surprising, then, that she's never really interacted with the keeper of the Celestine for any prolonged amount of time.
Try to rectify that.
Still a little pale and wan, Amalia arrives with a grim determination to provide a cheerful presence and do her best to help. She has taken to her task of getting out there with something approaching gusto. Dressed in rugged jeans (a new sort of clothing) and a backless shirt, she arrives with Jyoti over her shoulder and a basket of food on her arm. A shy smile is offered to Falke and Lena as she follows the Fixer through the door; "Us, too," the Angel echoes softly, her calm demeanor grossly belied by the enthusiastic crooning of the young starwhale.
and sweetest in the gale is heard and sore must be the storm
Thankfully, she was rescued by others. Barely missing bumping her head on the side of her stall as another arrived, she greeted Falke and Ophelia with a warm, bright smile, and only laughed a little at the monkey’s antics. “We’ll let it be her reward for helping too,” and she winked in both of their directions, grabbing hold of her basket and placing it elsewhere as one more came.
Lena only briefly recognized her, from that day when the strange, nearly unknown creature had come into the Celestine – but otherwise, kept mostly in the confines of this world, the Caretaker didn’t have a name to the face. Offering her hand in eager delight to Amalia, she pressed her way forward, extending her palm in greetings. “Hello! I’m afraid we’ve never been properly introduced. I’m Lena.” Thereafter, she took a step back, and then gazed at the chaotic assembly around them. “Thank you so much for coming. As you can see, there’s much to be done. I tend to focus more on the animals, then on…,” and she openly gestured to the stalls.
Clapping her hands together, the youth persisted. “We can start with the herbs first? I think there’s plenty to be organized and put away.” She started grabbing hold of various containers. “If one of you could label them, and then the rest of us can sort them, that would be wonderful!” Then she leaned down, closer to Ophelia now. “And if you would like my dear, you can pick up the treats.” And she handed the monkey a basket – presuming many wouldn’t make it into the confines.
--
Thank for you helping!
We need:
- One person to label the herbs (assume you have supplies nearby, like vials, pens, etc.)
- One person to organize and put away the herbs with Lena!
that could abash the little bird that kept so many warm
It’s been quite some time since the Fixer offered Amalia some help, and he’s been painfully aware of her reclusive spell. Falke turns as a third declares their willingness to help and is obviously surprised to see the demigod, though that quickly turns to a bright, welcoming smile. “Amalia!” he calls cheerfully, echoed by a playful screech from Ophelia. “It’s good to see you out and about.” And then realizing that Lena has never met the Archangel, he goes on to to the introductions. “Lena, this is Vi’s demigod, Amalia.”
But of course they aren’t there to just stand around and gawk at each other, so the Fixer listens attentively to the caretaker’s instructions. “I’ll take the herbs,” he offers, familiar with just about everything that grows in Stormbreak. His own garden flourished this LongHeat, a gift from Vi himself, no doubt. Trundling over to the hanging plants, he begins to methodically identify the leaves, flowers, and stems by smell and sight, leaving vials with their labels next to under each specific plant.
Ophelia stands and takes the offered basket with a chitter and sets to ‘picking up’ the treats. Which really means she eats one, then offers one to Jyoti, scampers away to another, and occasionally, occasionally one is stored in the basket for eating later. Obviously.
Amalia takes the Caretaker's hand with a shy smile, her mouth opening to return the greeting- but Falke beats her to it, giving name and title in the formality she has come to expect from Stormbreak's denizens. A bashful grimace crosses her face; "Jyoti and I have been enjoying the Celestine," she murmurs, withdrawing her hand so the starwhale might come request scritches. Amalia, for her part, slides cautiously to Falke and murmurs for him alone: "I've been thinking about your offer... Is it still good?"
Tasks are offered, the Fixer choosing his first. Which suits Amalia fine: her knowledge of Stormbreak's herbs, while growing, is still full of gaps. So she is happy to join at Lena's side, taking vials as they're labelled and sorting the ones she knows ("Alphabetically or by property?") and asking for clarification on the ones she does not.
For her part Jyoti is more cheerleader than aide. She investigates the snacks offered by Ophelia with curiosity, then sneezes a spout of starlight and swims in a tight circle, crooning with amusement and delight.
and sweetest in the gale is heard and sore must be the storm
Lena, despite staying out of the Order business and all the brewing, brooding conjectures that came along with it, had heard Amalia’s name traced around the confines of Stormbreak; but simply had never put a face to the name. “Well, we’re honored to have a demigod of Vi here,” she grinned, not one to place too much accord where it may not be wanted. “And I’m glad you’ve enjoyed the Celestine. It’s a wonderful place. May it always bring you some comfort and peace.” For that was what it represented – the heights and glories of the gods, the mortals within it, and the mending, soothing, assuaging balms of life and all its creation. And a smile, a wave, extended towards Jyoti; never to be remiss with something as beautiful as a starwhale.
Unfortunately, given all the gestures of serenity and tranquility, the tasks were anything but.
It started with Falke and Ophelia – the treats still remaining scattered, the basket tipping, tipping, tipping over the boundaries of stone. Perhaps catching on the edges of a stall? And though Falke was considerate, methodical, and thoughtful, the herbs too fell off the stands, flickering amidst the treats into a wild mess of confusion and chaos.
Neither Lena or Amalia were out of the clear either. Even before the Caretaker could respond to the clarification, clumsy hands (hers) fumbled the labels, dropping them along the floor as well. “Perhaps we ought to have simply worked down here,” she laughed, still a picture of calm radiance, and then began picking them back up. “Let’s do so alphabetically? That might be easier to work with.”
--
Bad rolls, fam. Let’s try again!
that could abash the little bird that kept so many warm
Maybe it's the anxiety that gives Amalia such butterfingers. Maybe she's grown too accustomed to holding books and pens, and her hands have forgotten what it's like to clasp around a vial. Whatever the reason, Amalia finds herself struggling enormously with the simple task of organization. Sweaty fingers manage to smudge carefully written labels; the initial plan to organize by purpose is rejected; in short, things go rather impressively awry.
At least she isn't alone in her floundering. Lena's own clumsiness and good natured composure elicit a laugh in response, Amalia's voice deep and bashful as she stoops to recover her vials. "Alphabetical. Got it," she responds in a low hum, setting about rearranging her organizational system. "So do you... are you a member of the Order? I haven't seen you at Cian's meetings before..."
“Of course,” he replies quickly and quietly to Amalia. “Stop by any time.” The decision would still be in her hands, but his door is always open.
Then they’re moving on and, well - is anyone surprised that Ophelia is a less than perfect assistant? She is a monkey, after all - albeit a smart one - but self-control in the face of treats can hardly be expected. In her eagerness to find them all, she’s a whirlwind and all over the place and under people’s feet. Falke is distracted by her and yes, even the meticulous and patient Fixer grows clumsy.
“Ophelia!” he hisses at her. “We’re supposed to be helping. Treat this as if it were my lab, okay?” And whether or not it gets through to his beloved soulmate, Phi does try to calm down a bit, or at least puts down the basket, so as not to be such a destructive force. And Falke delicately picks the herbs back up, replacing them without (hopefully) losing too much to the floor.
and sweetest in the gale is heard and sore must be the storm
Calmer platitudes seemed to invoke more of the successful threads; before long, all three of them found a fundamental pace and accord with their tasks, and Lena breathed an immense, intense, sigh of relief when they could hasten through vials, herbs, and labels without anything breaking, falling apart, or flickering back down to the ground. Her head tilted at the demigod's inquiry, humming lightly. “No, I’m not. My sister, Sera, is though.” Placing another neatly, outlined scrawl mark and sticking it upon the glass jar, she then put it amongst the others, the area already looking neater and tidier than before. “That’s not for me. I’d rather care for the animals that have been wounded.” A pause, a reflection. “What about you?” Offered without judgement towards Amalia – freedom and liberation in her tones.
Falke and Ophelia had a much better time too – even though the monkey probably did drop some more (only to pick up for later, right? Investment snacks!). By the time they were through, the whole impact of organization sent Lena’s bright grin into an effervescent balance. "Oh, it looks excellent! Thank you all.”
Turning to look over her list, the Caretaker began anew. “Next, we need to repair some of the stalls.” The enclosures themselves were perfect and right, due to Frey’s influences, but the areas in which Lena kept the supplies had either fallen into disrepair, or something had nibbled on the bottom rungs of the wood. “If we each take one,” and she pointed to the three kiosks in dire need of assistance, “We should be able to tackle them quickly!”
--
Help repair the supply stalls/kiosks! You’ll find all the tools/wood you’ll need.
that could abash the little bird that kept so many warm
Stuffed with snacks and carrying even more like a chipmunk, Ophelia removes herself from the clean up and repair party - and to be honest, that’s probably for the best.
He follows Lena to where another supply area and some of the stalls are. When it looks like they’re going to be working with wood, he finds himself less familiar with that area, but nonetheless remains cheerful and optimistic about the outcome. Moving into the nearest stall, the Fixer can see that the bottom shelf had indeed been nibbled on. Surely it was just a curious visitor and not something like ROUS!
Humming to himself, the Fixer starts to remove the items from the bottom shelf and once they’re tucked neatly to one side, he begins to remove the fasteners that keep it to the back of the shelf. Once the one in need of repair is gone, he goes to find another piece of wood that’s suitable - examining and measuring until he finds one that is (hopefully) nearly identical. And then he sets it in place - with nails or a drill or whatever it is they have in Stormbreak.
"Oh, I know Sera!" Amalia says brightly, warm fondness coloring her voice and her cheeks. It's a warmth that's tempered by the thought of Cian and the Order and her lack of belonging; "No, I don't think... it's for me. At least, not right now." She shrugs, trying to push down the sting of failure and disappointment.
At least she isn't failing at sorting anymore. A small mercy indeed, but one she clings to, completing her task with renewed fervor. Enthusiastic, she turns her attention to the stall in need of repair, years of similar projects for Fiat Lux and other small festivals making the task a familiar one. Amalia chooses her wood with care, cutting and sanding with speed representative of her strength.
and sweetest in the gale is heard and sore must be the storm
In actuality, all three, since Ophelia had removed herself to eat, did fairly well. None of them were the smoothest or most precise, even with Amalia’s experience and expertise, but they fit together nicely. Even Falke’s, despite an obvious hesitation (one board might be missing a few nails). While everyone seemed content and humming, Lena arched a brow at the fondness for her sister expressed from the demigoddess, amused, and glad for it. And as for the rest? She shook her head, no concerns, no judgments, no ring of fire for something Amalia seemed awfully disappointed in (why?; the Caretaker might have asked, but it seemed too personal and prying). “And it doesn’t have to be.” Acceptance for what and who they were for this moment in time. A light smile hastened in return, before they could address their final task.
“There, with that settled, all we need to do is move everything into its proper place.” She gestured to the objects nearby that had clearly been removed from the worn stalls earlier: buckets, brushes, bins, bowls of all shapes and sizes, and several other baskets she used throughout the marketplace, and within the Celestine itself. “Then we’ll be done!” Remaining bright and cheery, Lena grabbed hold of the brushes, intending to begin the last of the organization processes.
--
Woohoo! Last round! Pick up some objects and we’ll organize! FalkeAmalia
that could abash the little bird that kept so many warm
The supplies sorted, the stalls made, there is only the last bit of organization left to do. Amalia sets up organizing her own kiosk with an array of woven baskets and bowls, enjoying the artistry as she does. Jyoti has returned by now, and the starwhale too is curious and interested, peering over Amalia's shoulder and crooning curiosity when she wants to look more closely at any one thing. It causes them to take a little longer, but the pair appreciates their work. Idly Amalia wonders if this might have been her task, in another life and another world. She'd been called the Shield of Safrin for her care of magic creatures before. Born in Stormbreak, would her feet have led her here instead of to Vi?
