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!
Wild and untamed and free for a sparse few seconds – out of human form, out of plotting, out of control and composure, out of wondering and pondering and scraping away at whatever denizens he could snag and ensnare. Liberation, freedom, deliverance in the wicked ease of his long limbs, in the rise and fall of elongated strides, in the tempestuous fringes and boundaries he so easily pushed against.
Fire flicked from his paws and pooled into the melting snow – little bits of steam and warmth rising off along plumes in the early morning light, giving way only slightly. The imprints, massive and large, remained in the gradients of memory snow, meant to stick and seethe there for far longer than he’d thought for or intended. Pathways of where he’d traveled and traversed; either as a warning or beckoning. Most would commit to the former.
But still he rampaged, amused, the Attuned adornments settling through, unbothered to cease and stop them. The Sword launched over a few snowdrifts, perhaps landmarks of the barrows buried underneath, before barreling onward, a Stygian outlier against the ivory canvas.
Deimos wasn't the only one wandering. Though, he truly never was. Not when both Noah and Cordelia were close by and willing to go with him. That wasn't the intention this morning. No, the younger Attuned had set off well before the others were awake, the drive to simply stretch her legs, breath in the air, and be urged her away from the safety of their camp. She smelled him before she heard him.
The scent of steam and embers coming to her on the wind, causing her head to lift, nostrils flaring as she tried to place the scent. While she wasn't entirely familiar with each of Deimos's shifts, she knew his scent well enough that she could place it even beneath the skin of the creature he wore. That instinct to bolt subsided and instead she pressed forward and pursued.
Cloven hooves beat a path through the snow, soon joining with his as she followed in his wake, eventually catching up. Her voice reaching out when she drew closer, Getting some exercise in? The words teased against his consciousness, goading him on as she pressed a bit faster, slowly edging in front of him.
Athletic, stalwart, and powerful, the potency in his stride’s reach was a thing of devastation and dominion along the stretch of the vast field – and still, he was mildly startled when another pressed into its wake. The flurry and unwinding of the snow, powder flying, spraying into the air, caused him to snort, expel a range of plumes curling and contorting well behind him within a breath – glancing to see Cordelia’s wake at his side.
It made sense, given her shift’s propensity for rapid movement across the tundra, but he had such a propensity for challenges, for provocations, for goading, galvanizing tactics that the beast thundered on. Unrelenting and ruthless in his speed, inciting with the air of a seditious, mischievous heathen, a Stygian fiend, rising up and out of the depths.
He didn’t tell her he was out here to simply unwind and lose the moments of plotting and composure. He didn’t say that there were some wicked, ruthless edges that needed to be unfurled. I suppose, he gave instead, another snort winding its way through the bond. And you?
09-25-2021, 10:39 PM (This post was last modified: 09-26-2021, 11:20 PM by Cordelia.)
Cordelia
Oh. It's a silent challenge, but she can't ignore it. Her muscles sing and she feels alive. Cordelia pressed herself harder, picking up speed, keeping pace with him and occasionally edging further in front of him. The Attuned swayed and swerved, baiting him into a type of playing, kicking up snow aand powder in their path. Stretching. Unwinding. Whatever you want to call it. Came her mental reply, not slowing down and showing no sign of doing so anytime soon.
This was something she was made for. Suddenly an idea popped into her head and mischief bounds along their shared bond. I'll race you.
Deimos was probably far easier to goad and bait than he’d ever want to admit – but the mischief, the juvenility, mauled over the depths of his frame. Brought straight back into hellish refrains and silly, amusing foils, rather than any other scathing depths, was a welcome reprieve from hollowed ventures. His eyes narrowed briefly as she moved, edging in front, so that he pushed off the snow even harder, charging ahead with reckless abandon, striving to avoid the powder she’d kicked up from billowing into his face.
But that lone challenge centered and segmented down the notches of his spine, and the declaration was more than enough to render him ridiculous. Fine was a manner of acceptance, and the amusement pulsing through with wild, wicked, untamed relish stoked and refined.
Intending to be a menace across the horizon, he shifted their path and trail, heading directly towards a higher rise in the mounds and barrows. Gathering himself, he thwarted one in particular with a leap, launching over the knoll with contorted finesse – intending to endure and instigate all in one manner of moments – continuing and forging on with broken bits of laughter scaling their minds.
It was perhaps needed. This temporary reprieve from all the planning and scheming that took up so much of their time these days. Before this Cordelia had considered herself relatively carefree. Unconcerned with more than her survival and providing for her family. It was something she was still concerned with, but her family looked a bit different now in the form of Noah and Deimos. Temporary as it may be. She still was required to pull her weight around camp, to train and get stronger, and to provide sustenance for her compatriots. All while plotting for what was to come.
This though? This moment of unhinged freedom that came in he form of hooves beating against snow, kicking up powder as she ran beside him, his amusement filtering to her along their bond was needed too. He didn't take it easy on her. No. Deimos was a fiend. He pushed and pushed and pushed. Bounding and leaping over snowbanks, daring her to do the same, baiting her into competing.
The Attuned does just that. She ran harder and faster, drawing in frigid breaths, forcing her legs to stretch further. Cordelia cleared the same snowbank with ease, timing her jump just right as to not lose her stride, edging ahead of him again. This time she dipped her head, playfully bobbing it towards him as if to set him off track with her antlers.
The cold wind against his face was a blessing; mired into flesh and fur with the tides of what they used to have. Not the same, but vestiges and shards, parallels and juxtapositions, and he was grateful for whatever assimilation of the frigid air he could savor. It urged him onward, as she made her leap, as she edged out in front, as she swept her antlers near.
He sneered and snorted, hackles raised in an amused demonstration of fangs and deliberation. Not to be outdone, he swayed off, veering the course slightly, winding around inlets of frozen little ponds. There was no end in sight, which was just as well for the beast, unfurling his rapid strides in quick unison, launching over another knoll again.
This time though, he permitted his paws to reach further into the snow – and plumes of flames darted out once more, receding just as quickly as they’d come, due to the cold, the melting substance below – but figured it’d be just enough to distract or deter. With a laugh or two nestled in between.
The path changes, Deimos unwilling to let things go, pushing further and harder. He takes them through a small obstacle course of frozen ponds and puddles, darting and weaving through the bodies of water, trying to shake her. Cordelia is not so easily deterred. She presses forward, breathing deeply, muscles aching pleasantly as she keeps up with him.
Speed isn't the issue. Nor is it her ability to outmaneuver. They easily kept pace with one another. Both occasionally edging in front of the other. Cordelia can't help the delight that bounds along the bond to crash into his. It's a freeing feeling. Both of them unhinged, wild, almost rabid with the freedom this affords them.
His eyes narrowed, the speculation drawn, the inward pressing for machinations beginning to spring back into his mind. Determined not to fall back into that common stance, the beast continued his roaming, digging in deeper, permitting the flames to flare higher, seeing if that would gauge any reaction from the reindeer.
He could see a herd of unicorns in the distance, striving to find their grazing terrain through the snow. It was tempting to drive his onslaughts their way and scatter them simply by predacious, ravenous standards; but with Zuriel tied so intricately into his soul, he didn’t bother them. Instead, he offered a long, low howl, a piercing sort of thing meant to simmer into bones, greeting them as they passed – thundering along in their haste for speed.
The Sword shifted them again, launching over two barrows in the barreling, nonsensical pathways, before a rapid directional change – seeing if she could handle the sudden disparity.
There was something about running this way. He presses them harder, pushing further, and not giving them a moment to rest. Cordelia couldn't help going after him. Just like she'd followed him out of Halo, into the Wilds, and everyday since then. She didn't stop then and she wouldn't stop now. The Attuned almost falters at his howl. The sound of it causing her instincts to startle, steps loosing their rhythm for the span of a breath, but she finds it again. Now you're just trying to throw me off. Comes her teasing words into his mind, an amusement swirling along the bond, butting up against his own.
He changes their direction again and it's a quick one. Cordelia's direction and gate switch. She barely manages to avoid shoulder checking a tree, having to weave more intricately through this space, but she's made for this and the Attuned doesn't let herself slow.
Maybe would’ve been adorned with a shrug, had he not been running at an alarming speed through the ivory void – but it was notched in its boyish, cheeky delivery, quickly contemplating another scheme. The trees made for ample cover and guidance; narrow pathways that would prove to be a challenge to both of them due to their sizes.
But Deimos wasn’t an individual to back away from provocations – neither from beast nor land.
Angling around a large timber, he seared and stepped along a grove, before it seemed to become confined into a shadowy filament; a tapered, slender trail, where he nearly had to duck to not be snagged at the boughs. Where might this lead? Perhaps nothing. Perhaps it was an old prey path. Perhaps there were other nuances to this world they’d yet to discover.
Cordelia has grown familiar with this type of teasing. The way he prodded and poked. It was simply his way. Her own amusement was a bright light along the their shared bond. The Attuned followed after him, hot on his trail as she ducked and weaved between the trees, faltering when he ducked into a path that was too small for her. She was going to barrel through it. There was no other choice if she was going to keep up with him. Cordelia surged forward, staying on his heels, using her antlers to push boughs of branches out of the way as she went.
I don't know, but lets find out. Maybe it would be a snowy clearing or something else entirely, but wherever it lead she hoped they could perhaps take a break. Maybe even stop for a snowball fight. Wouldn't that be fun?
Deimos could hear the bashing and crashing of boughs; snorted and then eventually released a loud chuckle that would’ve echoed from his chest were he in human form. Instead it resounded pleasantly within Attuned natures, while he followed and flickered after the trail. It eventually widened once more, as if many a small deer had utilized it for a path to water, for there was a frozen over stream, and then some vibrant plant life sticking out from the snow.
Without intending to, he ceased barreling to sniff and wander, nose lowered against the flattened exterior. No barrows, hills, or mounds to parade upon in these proportions, occasionally lifting his paw to then dig into the depths, attempting to unearth something simply by way of curiosity.
Then he formed another obnoxious idea in his head – and once it was there, it stuck, amongst and amidst all the other deviant plots. With the only warning being his amusement, he scraped away at the powdery surface again, but this time flung it in Cordelia’s direction.
It was an odd sensation to feel his amusement and to hear his laughter in her head, but Cordelia had grown used to it over the days and weeks they spent in each other's company. It was easy to see now how people were wrong about his overall demeanor. Quiet, reserved, and unwilling to ever let more than just a hint of himself through for others. Cordelia knew that there was more to him now. He wasn't so cold and grumpy the way others said he was. Not to her, at least.
It was clear to her now. Especially as snow came flying her way, hitting her in the face and she let out snort. There was nothing but glee to meet him and Cordelia jumped and bucked, kicking up snow to send his way, bending her head to use her snout to sling it into the air util it rained down on top of them.
