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!
Many gather, and many faces are familiar to her. Ronin and Amalia receive warm smiles, while Locke, Maeve and Melita are greeted with quiet waves to acknowledge their presence. Others join too, judging by the wingbeats on the air, though since they did not join the cluster Seren paid them little heed.
"Well, now I'll just have to be fine," she smiled at her father, reaching out to touch his hand lightly. "You be safe too, okay?" Amalia was included in that, the starchild's affections quickly spreading to the most recent addition in her circle of support.
When the howl seemed to change pitch, her attention was stolen on what went on up ahead. As lights began to dance, and a path appeared, and something stirred in the branches, Seren threw a quick glance at her friends and family and smiled. "Let's see where they lead."
Her immediate preference was to the path lit by dancing lights, and so that was where she went, stepping lightly as she could into the swamp.
Seren chooses the path of Lights.
Battle born they send us Covered in our noble blood
✰ Starlight (Passive) | Starfilled night billow around her like a veil as she moves. It is more noticeable in daytime and when she make sudden movements.
Stars move slowly in a silvery night
Far away on the other side
Mildew could only shake her head at Arialla's question as the girl stopped down before her. She'd never heard anything quite like this in all her time in the Feverlands, which meant it had to be something special indeed. Whether it was a good kind of special remained to be seen.
Plenty of people arrived to investigate it, more than she was comfortable being in her homeland, but Mildew put aside her discomfort in the interest of solving the problem. Besides, as she often reminded herself, no one could own the Wilds; not even she, who knew it like her own heart.
Three paths became clear. Immediately there was one she gravitated towards. Years of experience walking and balancing along the roots and rocks of the swamp had prepared her for this; without hesitation, Mildew headed towards the path filled with roots and stones, planning to slowly and carefully pick her way through.
--
Mildew chooses roots and stones
Will you come to talk with me this night?
But she couldn't find how to push through
Well… there are a lot of dangerous things in the swamp, aren’t there? Falke wrinkles his nose as the lights appear and three paths seem to be illuminated. This can’t possibly end well, but ah - he supposes he’s committed himself. Sighing, the Fixer digs into what he knows about the flora and fauna of the Feverlands to help him make the best decision.
The lights seem like they might be attached to Lamplighters, so that’s probably not the best option.
The branches could have Veil Fungus in them, and besides, he isn’t Attuned, he can’t really climb that well.
So that leaves the third path, the roots and stones, even though there could easily be Penolaeth or Veil Fungus or a Devil’s Klaw there too. He’s come all the way from Stormbreak, a little bit of danger shouldn’t turn him back. So he follows a woman with some amazing hair and far more natural dexterity than he, down the path. Slow and steady it is, then.
I never had a chance to be soft I was always bloody knuckles
Jack coming up beside her meant the youth was ready for some kind of eyerolling, scolding, or general pissiness she’d come to expect from the captain. She didn’t even bother to snort at his retort, heaving her weapons further along her shoulders, intent and ready for anything. “It hardly ever does,” she muttered in return; not wanting to be as pessimistic as him, but given the situation, the circumstances – she’d seen this level of shit before.
And then the howling continued, persisted, and she uttered a low sigh under her breath. “I’m going this way,” she nodded her head towards the branches, informing Jack, and then pilfering her way through with Fangorn.
--
Melita chooses the branches path!
and shards of glass I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
Choices, choices, choices. The lights came from the branches, highlighting a path for some, but Maeve couldn't bring herself to trust it. The option seeming almost too safe. Her brows knit together, considering the different options, glancing towards Locke to see if he had any opinion on which path to pick. Part of her is inclined to head towards the stones and roots, but the path of branches pricks her interest instead. Maeve adjusts her quiver on her shoulder, removing her bow from her back as she takes a tentative step forward, following after Melita towards that instead.
Her steps are light, balance second nature as she practically dances across the branches, moving down the path easily after the honeybee. She glances back after Locke to see if he plans to follow.
Maeve takes the path of branches!
Fight so dirty, but your love's so sweet Talk so pretty, but your heart got teeth
Locke spots Nate and gives him the smallest, quickest of waves. Too bad they don't have time to catch up. Maybe when he gets back to Torchline? The thought is quickly erased when he sees The Nightshade. He is in fact, miffed to see Maeve there. Isn't she, you know, pregnant with his kid? Oh well. Time to test out how well his claws work for defending, or something. At least she has a bow? He's pretty sure she didn't have that before. At least she has some way of defending herself from afar. He keeps just behind her, giving her room to use her bow to but also close enough to react if he needs. Locke shifts only his eyes, golden and slitted to try to see better in the darkness.
_____
Locke shifts his jaguar eyes and takes the path of branches!
anyway, you say you're too busy saving everybody else to save yourself
Mm, yeah. Sunjata agrees mentally with a huff of a mental laugh that doesn’t arise more than just a grumble from the dragon. He remains still for the moment while Nate slips off his back, Sunjata leaning into the touch that flows along his scaled snout, nostrils flaring as he puffs a warm breath toward Nate.
His attention is tugged away, though, by the way the swamp seems to open up before them. Choices are to be made, and Sunjata finds his broad head pressing in against Nate’s hand. Branches? He suggests, trying to tug Nate back to him with sharp jagged teeth that mouth at his husband’s shirt (or is it a borrowed one of his?) before he’s shifting back into himself, reaching for his pair of Safrin’s daggers, partially shifting his gaze to that of the panther shift, bumping his shoulder against Nate’s as he moves to follow Melita, Maeve, and Locke down the branches path. He listens intensely for anything that might be understandable through the chittering.
Sunjata shifts back into his human form, partially shifts his eyes to the panther, and tries to listen for anything he might be able to understand using his:
Type: Grey
hEARs | An earring that when worn, increases the sound of voices (especially whispers)
He picks the branches path!
and you don't want no help, oh well that's the story to tell
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
So no one knew what was going on. That sounded about right. With a sigh, Arialla glanced between the three paths. Branches was out, as climbing wasn't her forte, so: roots and stones or lights?
She knew the lights were probably a trap, but they spoke to her anyway, far more than the roots and stones did. Arialla had once been one for sunshine, for bright mornings and full days, but lights in the dark were more of her speed these days. And if they could be deceptive then, well, perhaps she wanted to be deceived.
"Gods smile upon you," she murmured to Mildew, and to all the others arriving to investigate (except Nate, but she didn't exactly have a way to exclude him), before she took the path of lights.
do you feel at home? your flames are burning higher your circumstance is dire, don't panic. you're frantic
Locke earns himself a hearty wave, a bright grin, but truth be told, Nate’s eyes are on Melita. She’d avoided them, him, all season, and now she just sauntered up without so much as a wave? It hurts.
He’s tugged out of his one sided staring match not by the choice that open to them like the delicate petals of a flower, but by Sunjata bumping into him, demanding attention. Shaking his head, Nate glances towards the howling, toward stage paths that have opened, and nods. Branches. He agrees, glad for the chance to stay close to his niece, to Locke.
A bubble of laughter leaves him as they head off, Sunjata in a form that’s far easier to press a good luck kiss against than the dragon is. Nate uses his extra arms for balance, keeping pace with his husband and trying to keep Melita in sight, if nothing else.
Nate chooses branches, and uses his extra arms to keep himself well balanced
this is your hell, dancing for something that was true to you, how do you do? say it's me.
His friends and family gather, Ronin smiling and nodding to Amalia when the howling changes pitch and they suddenly find themselves with choices to make. Seren is first to head out, bold and perhaps a touch overconfident, but Ronin can't help but feel pride to see her taking things on without even a moment's hesitation. He is also drawn to the dancing lights, and so it doesn't take much for him to step away and into the forest as well.
"I'll be just fine, I think," he murmurs, ducking and weaving through the trees in an attempt to keep the lights in view. "Let's figure out where this goes." Others are moving too, but Ronin doesn't really have eyes for them. I'm not keen to get sucked into the dark again, he says to Amalia, knowing she'd understand.
soft spoken with a broken jaw we step outside, but not to brawl
"Enjoy yourself," Jack murmurs, tossing Melita a lazy salute as she heads off along her path of branches. The captain, for his part, keeps his hands tucked in his pockets and his mind open to the decisions that those nearby are making. There is no method to the madness of lights, branches and roots, and so eventually Jack decides on the most obvious path.
As in, the only path that has appeared as such.
He heads away over the roots and stones, his boots easily absorbing the impact of the rough terrain, and he doesn't look back over his shoulder either. Whatever happens, with his crew member deciding to go her own way, any flimsy suggestion of teamwork falls apart entirely. And y'know, that's entirely fine with Jack.
Jack chooses the path of roots and stones!
full speed ahead 'til i'm dead
Jack being an Abandoned is common knowledge these days, however his Telepathy remains a well-kept secret:
Magic: Passive Telepathy | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 30ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
Type: Grey | Rank: Mastered
Also branded with a small star tattoo beneath his left eye.
this pair of wings worn and rusted from too many years by my side
Three paths. There's no way Amalia can protect them all, and already her mind is racing, trying to decide the best choice, the way to keep the most people safe. Seren surges towards the lights, and Arialla, too, and the Angel wants instinctively to follow - but that leaves two paths undefended, and Ronin is already following his child. Sunjata appears, too, climbing into branches, and though she may not agree with the man on many things, she knows he can hold his own.
So she sends a pulse of understanding to the Hunstman, her eyes on the path of stones. "Keep them safe," Amalia murmurs, squeezing his arm once more. "I'll see you on the other side."
And then she sets off with Falke and Mildew down the path of stones, Nova sheathed against her side and her shield thrown over her back.
You scatter like dust to the wind, swarming for light, for roots, for branches. But only one way can be the correct way (and even then, are you sure that you want to be right, that you want to come upon the howling before all others?)
Those who choose the path of branches are the least lucky. The branches seem to grow thicker, more webbed and tangled, until all light is blotted out entirely. Indeed, one might believe you are stuck for good, blundering into one another, catching on twigs and thorns and gods know what else.
But eventually - long, long after the events of this Drop - you find yourself out. Hungry, scraped up and doubtlessly disappointed, you make it out. Your journey is over, branch-walkers.
Next there are roots and stones. Misleading things, these, and as you walk the ground will begin to give way, sucking, pulling, pulling, until you are unable to find release. Think hard and think quickly, for the mud will try to claim you.
Then there are the lights. Lights lead the way, and they lead true - before those who chose the dancing orbs, the trees thin, the ground remains steady beneath your feet, and up ahead... a tower.
A steep and spindly tower, caked with moss and vines, with a beacon flickering at the top. And gods, the howling - it is coming from up there.
Those who took the path of branches are out of the Drop! Boo, sorry guys D:
Something about the voice made the skin between her shoulderblades crawl. With pity, and fear, and perhaps a little bit of awe as well. There were moments where Seren found a beauty in the terrible sound, in keening notes that touched something raw and visceral inside.
Captivated, she listened and gazed at the tower, at the glowing beacon above and the mossy, tangled snarl of vines. She thought of several options, but it was impulse that made her act. Cupping her mouth with her hands, she let off a howl of her own; attempting to match the pitch and tone of the cry, to let whoever - whatever - it was know that it was not alone.
Seren howls back at the thing, in a sort of greeting.
Battle born they send us Covered in our noble blood
✰ Starlight (Passive) | Starfilled night billow around her like a veil as she moves. It is more noticeable in daytime and when she make sudden movements.
