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!
Perhaps Melita needed calm, some manner of disassembly not gnarled and tied together in knotted twine, in barbarous string. Too many things, options, occupied her mind, and for someone who should’ve been readying to rampage aboard the Ark, it was probably for the best that her distractions were kept to a minimum.
But there she was anyway, bare feet skipping along sands outlined by the afternoon’s light, the skies pressing inward on their bright hues and colorations – a promise of sunset soon. Fangorn settled by her ankles nimbly, perhaps aware of the spirits of his brethren close at hand, and she swung her basket to and fro as if there were no cares in the world (nothing could be further from the truth). Making good on her convictions, the young honeybee tended to the directions of the garden along the Halenani, hoping to find the Madame there – chin lifting over edges of fencing, not wanting to go in without permission (a first). “Maeve?” She called out, hands cupped around her mouth so the voice spread in an eager cacophony. Her companion offered a low grumble for his own efforts, side-eyeing from fronds jutting out over the wooden paneling.
Luckily for the honeybee, the Madame was indeed around, moving to and fro in her garden to pluck various weeds from the beds or to carefully trim back branches that were reaching too far. Her name ringing out caught her by surprise, head lifting from it's work at the familiarity of the voice before a slow smile spread on her face, eyes lighting up as she caught the bright flame of Melita's hair. Aidon noticed her too, the much larger dragon bounding towards the gate, standing on his hind legs like an excited dog set to greet a guest. "I'm in here! Just come through the gate." She called back easily from where she knelt on the ground, cutting some lavender bunches and carefully laying them in one of the many baskets she had nearby.
Bees buzzed about the garden, nestling into flowers and bumbling into each other, enjoying some of the last warm weather before they set in to rest for Longnight. The slight breeze swayed the various blooms, blowing up sweet perfume to fill the air, their colors seeming brighter in the changing light as sunset approached. Maeve looked up from her work as Melita finally entered her garden, smile bright towards the youth, "How are you fairing? Is Fangorn pleased about the visitors?"
Honey, I'm on fire, I feel it everywhere Nothin' scares me anymore Kiss me hard before you go
Summertime sadness
Aidon’s appearance was a welcome sight – the spirited smile returning within an instant at the dragon’s excited movements. “Hello again,” and she reached out to scratch the companion’s head, if he was willing; before responding to Maeve’s call with a flick of her other hand along the gate. It creaked open, and once she and Fangorn had entered, she closed it behind her – eyes immediately drifting over herbs and flowers.
Some she recognized and distracted herself with momentarily – rich blossoms and beautiful hues, or flora her mother would’ve once hanged to dry out, use for mending, soothing, and assuaging those that hurt, bled, scraped, and marred themselves. An itch for exploration thread through her veins and pulsed with her restless, fervent energy, but even Melita knew it’d be rude to scamper through another’s garden without granting proper greetings. Her head swung over to where Maeve seemed intent on weeds and lavender, a wave scampering through her movements and motions, before her eyes riveted on something else. “I’m okay. This garden is lovely.” Fangorn had taken notice of some bugs along the ground, chasing after them with ease, while her gaze riveted upon notions and semblances of other fronds and ferns. “He’s all right. We’ve seen these guys a number of times.” Then a grin unfolded, unfurled, not the least bit guilty. “It’s really fun to play games with them.” Like kicking, or throwing, or pummeling them in all directions before they could grab ahold of one’s ankles.
She approached again, threading her way through, fingers seeking out a few plumes. “How are you? Do you want any help?” At the very least, the honeybee was capable of weeding.
Aidon was always willing to receive scratches and he pushed into Melita's outstretched hand, warbling and trilling in greeting, tail wagging behind him as his wings flared in excitement, little puffs of smoke coming from his muzzle. He moved out of the way so the honeybee could enter into the garden, happily following behind her and Fangorn, bumping him lightly with the end of his snout in greeting. He was very careful not to knock him over, though, mindful of his growing strength and size.
There was plenty in here for the girl to look through. Various flowers, blooms, herbs, ferns, and just about everything in between. All in various states of growth. Some still little sprouts, just pushing through the soil as they entered their growing season and others that were fully blossomed, swaying in the light breeze. Bees bumbled through all of them, landing to collect pollen and nectar from each plant, nuzzling into the blooms before returning to the hive that was nestled against the side of the building. "Thank you. It was one of the only things that really survived the monsoons." Maeve liked to think it had something to do with the love she poured into this place, but it was likely more to do with luck than anything.
The Madame had a distinct notion that Melita's ideas of games with them was rather on the rough side, but that didn't bother her one bit. Mostly because they had proven to be a nuisance. "I went shooting with Ronin in the Swamp. Took out a good number of them with my bow. It was rather fun." She agreed with a hum, turning to give the honeybee a look over her shoulder, smiling softly at the offer. "I'd appreciate the help, thank you." Maeve murmured, sobering a bit as she tried to think of the best way to answer the other question posed to her, "I'm doing well... Had a few things come up that are adding some difficulty to life, but nothing I can't handle."
Honey, I'm on fire, I feel it everywhere Nothin' scares me anymore Kiss me hard before you go
Summertime sadness
Fangorn adhered to the dragon’s antics – far gentler and less imposing than Umbra, and so he took to rolling along the ground, tumbling here and there, under ferns and fronds, and into thicker foliage as some semblance of a hide and seek game. Manifestations of silliness and peace, rather than anything else jumbling inside their bones – snaking vines and wrapping them around stems so he became a part of the greater canvas.
Melita’s eyes went instinctively to the bees, though late in seasons for them, as they likely gathered up any remaining nectar, intent on their own survival as Deepfrost drew closer. She made a nod, a friendly little smile at the notions of this garden thriving despite the monsoons – the way Torchline always seemed to do. Tough, forbearing, quick-witted, and sharp; those were the entanglements of a life next to the sea.
Only on mentions of other things did the ember-flamed one draw her gaze back to the Madame, a smile still etching and rounding out the corners of her mouth. “Oh, I didn’t know you used the bow! It’s one of my favorites.” With the elements forged in her quiver, they were a maelstrom of her own making; an archer hellbent on anarchy when it seemed necessary. But on the other notions, she distracted herself, kneeling and crouching down along the soil with little care for stains of the terrain, hands neatly plucking at weeds. “That always seems to be the way,” was an idle statement – because naught ever seemed to remain easy. Even when it was supposed to be. “Anything really awful?”
Aidon was more than happy to play an impromptu game of hide and seek with Fangorn. He even let the vampire gourd hide, crouching on the ground and covering his eyes with his claws. The dragon was very familiar with this game as Paige always wanted to play. He even went as far as to count, blowing out small puffs of smoke as he grumbled and trilled his way through the numbers, giving his new playmate ample time to hide. Only when he was sure Fangorn was hidden did he perk up, trotting this way and that, poking his snout into various bits of plant life in search of the gourd.
Maeve smiled over at the honeybee, nodding in response to her enthusiasm over her newly picked weapon, "I'm learning. It's still a little new, but I think I'm doing well. Remi is going to make me one that's just for me." She was incredibly pleased with this development in particular, looking forward to having her first custom weapon, made just for her and unique as she was. Maeve sobered, letting out a little sigh, bottom lip catching between her teeth. She huffed softly, shrugging her shoulders as she pulled another weed from the bed, "Heartbreak, but I suppose even that isn't as bad as it could be." There was one other thing, but she wouldn't consider that truly awful. If anything her baby was one of the few bright spots in her life despite the circumstances.
"We're almost done with the weeding. You can help me with the bees next. We have some honey to collect." Something the fiery youth would likely be happy about. She had expressed her eagerness to see her hives when they collected shells together on the beach and now was as good of a time as any to make good on that promise.
Honey, I'm on fire, I feel it everywhere Nothin' scares me anymore Kiss me hard before you go
Summertime sadness
The dragon’s courtesies paid off – the vampire gourd had opportunities to hide, pressing and curling his vines until they intertwined with leaves, giving the impression of true camouflage. He even closed his eerie, glowing eyes and fanged mouth, finding some remaining orange blossoms, until it appeared he’d become part of the foliage. Perhaps that was how he’d survived for so long, before Melita had tempted him with food, before souls had bonded.
Meanwhile, the honeybee plucked at weeds, ripping out the root with force and ferocity, content to apply her strength and efforts for something idle, not requiring much thought. It allowed her mind to listen, instead of merely wander. She smiled at the notions of Remi, even if he’d been altered by other things in the world, that there were still little pieces of him from before that remained. “That sounds nice. Remi's very good. I bet it'll come out wonderful.” She hummed a little under her breath, trying to match the distinct pitch the bees were making around her. “I got mine from Arduinna, a Fae that once helped us stop the blight.” A time of different means and measures, of machinations that didn’t always directly correlate to gods and wars. Or maybe it had, and she simply hadn’t been paying attention.
Her eyes lifted briefly at Maeve’s sigh, at the collection of heartbreak. The youth had experienced similar aspects, but never in the way of romance – death and desecration of her family had chiseled that little soul into something fierce instead of downtrodden. “Oh. I’m sorry.” Unaware of anything that had occurred, she faced away, staring back down at her weeds, grimacing a little at the faux pas. “Can it be fixed?” Or was it something already marred, ruined, and gone?
But the following announcement rendered her into far more excitement, leaning away from the potential of dramatics, for the notions of bees and honey. She rose eagerly, weeds in hand, clapping her palms together. “Whenever you’re ready!”
The dragon finally opened his eyes, blinking in the sun as he looked around slowly, head tilting this way and that. Finally springing up from his spot to poke his head into the various greenery. There weren't many pumpkins to be had in the garden. So the dragon didn't have to do much looking, given there was really only one section of orange blooms, gently he poked him in what should be his belly with a playfully trill.
"I hope so. I'm very excited to see what he puts together for me." Maeve hummed, tugging weed after weed from the beds on front of them, straightening up and cleaning her hands on the little apron she was wearing. The name wasn't familiar, but she was curious about it all. The Blight was something she managed to not be affected by. However, she knew what happened to Phoebe. How bad it got.
Can you fix it? Her mind flickered back to the conversation she had with Sunjata, recalling how he said this was something she might not be able to fix herself. "I'm not sure. I'm going to try, but I might not be able to do anything. This might be completely up to him." Maeve murmured, stopping by the little cart she had set up, rummaging through her tools and finding her harmonica she got at the night market.
"Have you ever collected honey before?" The Madame asked, drifting towards the beehives, playing a low tune on the harmonica that had the bees buzzing more slowly and falling into a passive stillness as she opened up the top of the hive.
Maeve uses this to control the bees!
Type: Grey
Buzzing Harmonica | When played, emits a low-pitch buzzing sound that attracts local bees
Honey, I'm on fire, I feel it everywhere Nothin' scares me anymore Kiss me hard before you go
Summertime sadness
Aidon’s easygoing, gentle ability to find, discover, and pinpoint Fangorn came with its own rewards – a low rumble meant to sound like laughter adorned the garden, and the pumpkin’s vines flew along in contentment, in merriment. Following thereafter, he encouraged the dragon to then do the same, ushering the beast along with the same greenery, and then closing his eerie eyes, grumbling something that could’ve been like counting.
As for weaponry and weeds, Melita applied herself readily until they were done, brushing her hands together, eyeing the dirt, and then wiping them on the ends of her dress with complete indifference. The rest of Maeve’s input left her with nods for Remi, and a hidden grimace for the other conjectures. Without anything else to go by, the honeybee wasn’t certain what she could say. “Well, I hope it goes well,” was all she could offer.
Amidst the following filaments though, the penchant for excitement concerning bees and honey left her with fervency, a way to cloak the hidden, furtive natures of sadness, of sorrow, of all these pinnacles flickering below the surface. “No! But I can’t wait to try!” And then there was only rapt fascination, a dropped jaw, and rounded eyes, as Maeve began to play a harmonica, and her gaze went to the very bees – as they seemed to fall into a trance. “Amazing! How did you do that? Where did you get it?” Rapid fire inquiries, and due for more all the time.
Thrilled to find that Fangorn was interested in taking a turn too, Aidon's whole body wiggled before he scrambled for a hiding spot himself. He was much bigger than his gourd companion, but not one to be deterred, the dragon scurried into the underbrush. Aidon tried his best to make his wings blend into the blooms, but the bright patterns on them were surely noticeable. It didn't stop him from giving it a go anyway.
More than willing to let that topic of conversation rest, Maeve moved away to gather the necessary items needed for tending to the bees. With a couple of buckets, scrapers, and sieves to sit over top of them both. Moving over to the hives, setting their tools down, Maeve played that low note on the harmonica that put the bees in an almost sleep before she opened the hive. "So we're going to scape the comb from the frames into the sieves. The honey will drain into the pockets and then we can harvest the comb too." She explained before turning to look over at Melita, smile bright as mischief flashed in her gaze.
"The harmonica plays at a pitch that controls them. Do you remember the night market? We both picked the same box, but my guess was closer." Maeve winked, laughing softly as she drew the first frame from the box, bracing it against the large bucket. "Just start at the top and push down." The Madame demonstrated, allowing the honeybee to watch before nodding to her to give it a try.
Honey, I'm on fire, I feel it everywhere Nothin' scares me anymore Kiss me hard before you go
Summertime sadness
Once he’d finished counting (if that’s what it’d had truly been – difficult to tell and parse through the individual growls), Fangorn set off in pursuit. Truth be told, the dragon was quite a bit easier to spot, but the gourd made a sporting match of it, pretending to go around multiple times, vines snaking out in persistence, as if dumbfounded, before claiming victory in some outlandish, surprising outcry.
Melita, not a quiet, demure creature by any means, was practically humming with excitement over the semblances and process of obtaining the honey, and managing with the bees. Rapt fascination held a clear distinction upon her features – gaze riveted to the tools, head tilted to listen to the directions (some stayed, others went off into the blossoms). “Oh, okay!” Grabbing hold of the offered tool, the youth’s eyes swung back and forth, completely and utterly distracted by anything and everything. “What?! And I could’ve had it!” She laughed, but not in a mocking, jeering way – light, with only a little bit of disappointment.
Thereafter though, it was time to actually settle into her job. Watching Maeve closely, she followed suit, steeled over in as much concentration as she could, brows furrowed, tongue sticking out slightly, starting at the top and pushing down as instructed.
Fangorn was a very good sport and Aido was none the wiser for it. Instead believing that he was an incredibly good hider in this situation. Even going so far to let out a little huff of sound that might have been a laugh when Fangorn passed him the second time, thinking that the gourd didn’t see him at all. He was a master of disguise! When his little friend did actually find him, Aidon warbled and trilled, bounding after him playfully as he nudged him with his head so he rolled gently on the ground before doing the same, legs up in the air and feet kicking at the sky.
The Madame laughed at Melita’s playful outcry at missing out on the harmonica, ”When we go see the chorus bees I’ll let you give it a go. I’m sure you’ll pick up on it just like I did.” She hummed, giving her hip a playful bump of her own before passing off the tool, instructing her on just how to harvest the comb. The honeybee took to it much like the bees in her garden took to the blossoms. With ease she was able to scrape the comb from the frame and into the sieve that covered the top of the bucket. Golden honey oozed, a delightful crackling sound rising from the frame as the comb crunched under the pressure, falling into the sieve with a dull plop.
”That was perfect! You can finish that frame and I’ll start on the next.” The Madame instructed, pulling another frame from the hive, scraping that one clean slowly and methodically, filling the second bucket with delicious honey and comb. It was a few moments of work before she straightened up, ”I need to get another bucket. I’ll be right back.” She chimed, straightening up and disappearing around the corner, intent on doing just that. The Madame didn’t have another thought in her mind. Not until she saw her back shawl hanging over the railing of the porch, a devious idea popping into her head that made her grin, peeking around the corner to ensure that Melita was distracted by her task.
Pulling the harmonica from her apron again, another low note was blown through it and with surprising quietness, the bees all coalesced together to buzz towards the Madame in a bit of a ball. She grabbed the black shawl, tossing it over the large swarm of bees, creating a dark ghostly outline that could be a discount Ludo without the mask. Another note blew on her instrument and the bees disappeared in their collective costume, moving over to the roof so they might come down behind Melita unseen. She played one more note and a small group moved to two separate parts of the shawl, lifting the fabric like invisible arms, bumping into Melita’s shoulder to get her attention and hopefully give her a spook.
Honey, I'm on fire, I feel it everywhere Nothin' scares me anymore Kiss me hard before you go
Summertime sadness
Did vampire gourds laugh? It was hard to tell – something resembling a hiss, a growl, and mirth all rolled into one at the dragon’s antics, and the pumpkin tried desperately hard to follow through on the silliness. On his back, tumbling along in the garden as his vines took or settled him into rooted manifestations. But there weren’t any feet or arms to kick up towards the sky; so the vines would have to do in those measures too – flailing every which way.
The promise of chorus bees, of harmonizing with their hums, of piecing together music and rhapsody, subsided any of the disappointment that might have been aching in her bones. “Perfect,” ended on a grin, vibrant and vivid, wild and effervescent, before she went back to scraping the tool down the edges. It was a satisfying thing to behold, and Melita didn’t hide the pride instilled in her frame, a little taller, a little straighter, as she continued her work. “Okay!” was an obliging thing, not even glancing upwards from her task, concentration (for once), finally honed in.
Back turned, absorbed, and with Fangorn also suitably distracted, the honeybee had no idea or inclination towards Maeve’s dastardly intentions. Humming under her breath, pulling away at proportions, watching the elements flicker and pool under her ministrations, she thought nothing of the sudden bump against her shoulder. Turning her head, presuming Maeve would be behind her – her eyes widened quickly, harshly, as a black shawl surfaced, floating along in mid-air.
She would’ve thought it was her preferred herald, had there been a mask. Instead, she simply screamed, tucked and rolled, and made towards her weaponry on an instinctual lunge.
It was truly the last thing the Madame expected to happen. She thought that Melita might jump or yelp or any number of things, but she didn't imagine that the honeybee would roll away, rushing after her weapons to take out the "dastardly" spirit that had appeared behind her. Maeve hurried from around the building, snatching the shawl from over the top of the cloud of bees, blowing a note on her harmonica so they disperse back towards the hive. "Oh gods! Melita! I- I'm sorry! I didn't think you'd get scared!" She rambled, holding her hands up to the other girl, hoping to ward off her incoming attack.
The Madame had to keep from laughing at the whole thing, how quickly it all went sideways, the honeybee clearly spooking more easily than Maeve thought she was capable of. Her lips twitched, threatening to break an second into a fit of laughter and the Madame had to lift her hand to cover her mouth.
Honey, I'm on fire, I feel it everywhere Nothin' scares me anymore Kiss me hard before you go
Summertime sadness
