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!
“Nonsense,” she declares, physically batting away the neg with a slice of her hand. “Maybe she’s just so used to me that it needs a moment to switch users, hmmm?” She talks about the weapon as if it were a living, breathing thing, the way some people might talk about their cars. And for Wessex? It might as well be the same thing. She’s a part of the General, but also a tool; well loved, respected, and yes - admired.
But let’s not delve to deep into Wessex’s kinks today.
The bookmaker tries again, and this time, it does indeed come back to him, slicing merrily through the air while landing in his hand with nary a scratch from it’s sharp edges. “See?!” the Wraith crows, entirely unsure what caused the initial glitch, but glad that it seems to be fixed. Tech, amiright?
Now she faces Sam and walks backwards a few paces, giving some easy instructions. “Now you aim for me. And I’ll try to evade.” It’s a challenge for her, because she’ll have to watch for it twice - going out and coming back in. And when she reaches about thirty feet out, she stops, waiting for Sam to throw it again.
The Wraith
Code blatantly stolen from the fantastical, wonderful Odd
I want to say I'm sorry for stuff I haven't done yet
"Maybe." Sam agreed with an easy shrug, pleased to see Wessex quite so amenable to forgiving his mistakes. Not knowing anything going on in Wessex's brain about being used (oh my), he felt better about the next throw.
And it did actually work; as the chakram came back to his palm, Sam nearly yelled, a bit worried the blade was about to chop off his last remaining fingers, but thankfully the handle instead landed in his hand with a solid thunk, the sharp edges safely out of the way. A disbelieving chuckle left his lips and Sam held the weapon up, turning it as if amazed that it was in front of him. "This does feel nice to use. Though I'm sure it's harder when you're actually trying to hit a moving target."
It seemed he was going to have to do just that.
Wessex walked back and he raised his hand, trying to get into the position he used before for the successful throw. When she stopped he squinted, trying to make sure he was throwing directly at her, then Sam threw his arm forward and let go of the chakram. It soared in a glorious arch out in front of him...and entirely away from Wessex, about 5 feet in front of her and several too high. He cringed, watching it come back to his hand having entirely missed his target. "Um, how do you make sure you hit what you want to hit?" He asked, shouting out in front of him.
She had been fully prepared to give Sam the benefit of the doubt - ready to test her reflexes against the weapon so that he hopefully wouldn’t be struck by her backlash upgrade.
Alas, perhaps the General had been a little too optimistic. She watches the chakram arc up and then back well ahead of her, and she has to fight to hide a smile. “That’s some good height,” she adds, wanting to offer him encouragement. “Next time try to keep it level when you throw it and it won’t arc up so much.” Trying to make a demonstration of just what she means by that, Wessex emphasizes a flat, simple flick of her wrist.
“Just practice, I think. I wasn’t great at it at first either.” She specifically remembers a time on the docks of Torchline when a young asshole laughed at her. Maybe rightfully so. “But even so, you also have to be aware of the force needed for distance, and things like that.” The core if it was ‘practice makes perfect,’ but it’s true that having some knowledge of weapons - particularly something like a bow and arrow - made putting it together easier.
The Wraith
Code blatantly stolen from the fantastical, wonderful Odd
I want to say I'm sorry for stuff I haven't done yet
Wessex once again gave warm encouragement and comfort where Sam expected cold disappointment; he didn't quite know how to respond. Holding out the Chakram in front of himself, he tilted it so it was level, not tilted upwards, then nodded. He wasn't sure how long this sudden and seemingly patient respect would last, but while it did, he would do his best to learn.
"Alright, here I go again." He took a moment to really try and focus. Think about the amount of distance between them, as if he could somehow calculate it and give that information to the blade in his hand.
Sam threw it with the most strength his weedy arms could muster, a little determined noise leaving him as he gave it all he had. The blade spun out, further and further - and this time, went around Wessex's back before circling back to him. As soon as he saw the chakram go too far, he groaned and put his head in his hands, only just remembering to hold out his hand to catch it at the last minute. "And um, how much practice did you need? You seem pretty practiced at not getting hit, too." An embarrassed chuckle left him as his eyes followed the curve of the blade that wouldn't co-operate.
Keeping her eyes on the spinning blades of destruction, when the General determines that it’s likely to pass behind her instead of in front of or through, she skips ahead a few steps just to be safe. The chakram whirs and whistles around, then lands gently back in Sam’s hand.
His question, however, gives her a bit of pause. While it’s true that she’d asked him to help her out, it’s obvious to the Wraith that with just a little more practice, perhaps Sam would be able to wield the chakram. “Well…” she begins, with a shrug. “I suppose I’m okay, but if you’re up for it, I’d like to wait until you’re able to hit a target. In case you need to use this some day.”
The some day is purposefully vague, but she hopes the intention is clear: if she needs to hand off a weapon to him, she wants him to be able to at least hit something close.
The Wraith
Code blatantly stolen from the fantastical, wonderful Odd
I want to say I'm sorry for stuff I haven't done yet
"Oh, Gods, no - I wasn't suggesting you aim it at me. I was asking because I was wondering how poorly I was doing compared to your first time." Sam laughed, hoping that the weapons would not be changing hands for quite some time. He had no delusions about his skill level; if Wessex took over throwing the blades, he wouldn't have a head within minutes.
Maybe it was third-time-lucky or simply his body getting tired of the failure, but Sam's next throw was much better. The chakram left his hand at a good arch and soared through the air, cutting towards Wessex at an increasing speed and with an accuracy missing from his previous attempts. If she didn't dodge quickly, the chakram would make contact with her this time. Sam watched in both excitement and dread, wanting to succeed but less keen on the thought of what Wessexx might do if he sliced out an eye.
Luckily for both of them, there are no eyes lost today and no dignity either; Sam gets his good shot and Wessex throws herself backwards, half back-bending in an absurd Matrix-style move and half stumbling out of range of the chakram, It hums by above and in front of her before gently landing back in Sam’s hand.
Wessex rights herself, a look of satisfaction on her face. “See, that’s what I was waiting for. You just needed a little practice. Everyone does. I’ve had her for… a year or so? I mean I couldn’t pick up your bookmaking stuff in just three goes.” Heading back to where her brother stands, she gives him a little bit of a ribalding nudge, as if to say right? She’s not artistic. Everyone knows it.
The Wraith
Code blatantly stolen from the fantastical, wonderful Odd
I want to say I'm sorry for stuff I haven't done yet
The weapon gently fell back into his hand and Sam smiled, holding it a little closer to his chest. Every time he succeeded with something like this, he forgot it soon after; so used to years of failing at anything requiring might or bravery that it was hard to get the successes to stick. He would remember the brief flicker of pride in Wessex's eyes though, rare as that was.
Walking towards her to hand back the blade, he huffed out a laugh under his breath. "I suppose not, but one is much more useful in a war than the other. Still...thank you." Had his Ascended family been this kind, this accepting in the start...he wondered where he might be now. Still, at least it was happening at all.
With the training over he departed swiftly thereafter, already wanting to hide away and read and be quiet for a while - he really wasn't made for fighting...but he did feel a little more ready for it, now they'd had this lesson.
