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!
Caido was often a harsh reminder, even when he’d lived here for years now, that falling back into old Helovian habits sometimes didn’t work. Didn’t achieve the same measures, the same goals. That politics still slid in stupefying ways. That something could be lost within the spark of a moment. Which was why he needed the constant, unfurling whims, the restlessness toyed away with, fallen off into the wayside, so he was no longer so tempted to slide into Basin heights.
He rolled his eyes as the bracers, reeling around in an almost bored inclination – watching, waiting to see what she would do –
Which apparently was attempting to freeze him into place.
There was another loud, raucous snort at her attempts and insinuation, curtailing the methods immediately by dashing backwards, and assailing with his own water incantations. “No, you,” came along as emboldened revelry, a wrinkle to his nose, as her efforts were turned and twisted back to her, embraced as icy winds, combining the fluidity of the elements with his air enchantments.
What if we're all just sleeping satellites Why do we drift so far from home
Well, that was a bust. Her persuasion magic is still new to her, and Deimos is certainly not as mentally frail as the old woman she’d accidentally ordered around when discovering it. Still, she takes his rebuttal with grace, impish smile rejecting any embarrassment or regret for having attempted it. It is merely another muscle to work, one to be built up until command is mastered.
As his own enchantments rush against her, she yelps instinctively at the bracing chill, and her lightning - as instinctive as her own heartbeat with how long it has lived in her veins - leaps to the fore to cloak her entire body in a low-level static spark to try and chase it off. Of course she won’t waste it, the hand that had reached now directing a similar shock towards the Sword’s feet like violent fireworks in an attempt to force him to defend or shift either towards her or away from her.
Why do we wake ourselves from paradise Where we will never be alone
Hotaru has a passive magic that makes her glow with an internal golden light; it makes her appear youthful and her hair seems to look like moving sunlight. Can only subtly illuminate dark spaces.
Chase him off? It’d been a while since such a strategy ever been effective. With his power pressing inward, there would be no such thing – suddenly an unrelenting relish to the way his smirk and snicker grew – yearning to demolish the static, to smother, to cover it all with earthen incantations along her feet - but really only giving more to his elements already at play. While the air swirled, the icy winds flickered and blasted, intending to cast her in vivid memories of Basin prowess and pivotal claims to thrones long, long gone.
Enough that he laughed when the static seared along his feet – because he didn’t cease, didn’t stop, as his boots threatened to burn and seethe under her own incantations. His mastery of the air rose again as it changed into a vibrant mist; and perhaps only the scorching marks along the forefront were evidence enough as to their location. Hidden and cloaked, swerving diligently with another harsh, wild bark of laughter.
What if we're all just sleeping satellites Why do we drift so far from home
To give the old saying another round, better to try and fail than not try at all. The earth is an unfortunately effective neutralizer of her lightning, even if the leather of his boots is happy to scorch and seethe with heat. Icy air tugs at her hair in a whirlwind of sensation that offsets the oppressive heat of the tar pits, nerve endings a blaze of confusion that crackles her laughter with the twitch of yelps of sensation.
Leaping high to avoid the clutch of the earth below as it seeks her, she lets the falcon within take over in a split second, wings pumping her higher before angling blind through the haze of fog and mist towards the boyish cackle of her brother. Emerging like an arrow, she shifts back like a human-shaped hurtling bullet, fearless and accepting of all terrible potential consequences of dissuasion as she aims to tackle him.
Why do we wake ourselves from paradise Where we will never be alone
Hotaru has a passive magic that makes her glow with an internal golden light; it makes her appear youthful and her hair seems to look like moving sunlight. Can only subtly illuminate dark spaces.
Only on rare occasions had his laughter given him away, especially when in dominions of training and vehemence. It meant he probably should’ve been concentrating, or trying, not feeding into distractions and ridiculous ventures. Despite the rounds of ice and mist, the rumble of amusement was his downfall, and no sooner had it erupted from his chest, did she become some airborne missile, landing squarely along his shoulders.
Pushing him, despite his massive size, downward, slipping in the mud.
He had no counter in time except more mirth, because this was all very stupid, landing squarely with his backside in portions of muck, bog, and mire. Not to be deterred, and already quite covered, the Sword made sure to upend Ru’s flying, intending to toss her directly into the murk behind him.
What if we're all just sleeping satellites Why do we drift so far from home
Rare indeed, though Hotaru has scarcely been able to withhold her laughter herself. Attunement lends itself well to the agility required to pull off the move, and shifting midair is a sensation she won’t soon be forgetting, but the blunt impact of collision is entirely worth every sore muscle and inevitable bruise as Deimos is sent ass-first into the mud.
Everything is a little topsy-turvy, but her crow of success turns into a helpless squawk of surprise as Deimos grips her and throws her like she weighs no more than a sack of flour. Hotaru ragdolls over his shoulder, arms barely reaching out in time to turn her impending faceplant into a sad excuse for a tuck and roll, which really just ends with her slamming into the mud on her back. Wheezing for a moment as the air is knocked out of her, the Valkyrie stares into the sky as the metaphorical stars stop spinning, and then she’s laughing raucously. The mud in her hair and on her clothes inconsequential to the light feeling blooming in her chest.
Peeling herself out of the mud, she staggers through it towards Deimos, bright spots of pink high in her cheeks and eyes bright with mirth. Holding out a hand, grin large and unburdened, she offers to help him up (as if she’d be much of a counterbalance). “Call it a tie?”
Why do we wake ourselves from paradise Where we will never be alone
Hotaru has a passive magic that makes her glow with an internal golden light; it makes her appear youthful and her hair seems to look like moving sunlight. Can only subtly illuminate dark spaces.
While he likely had nothing to be smug about, considering his current place in the swamp, a snicker still wrapped itself along his features; very boyish, devilish, and mischievous. Content that Ru was also covered in the murk, there was only half a moment where he was tempted to pull her right back down again at the extended hand – perhaps an inkling for another time. “I suppose,” he murmured – though in his mind he’d probably scored himself higher just to be a spiteful demon.
He stood, glancing down at his current state, and snorted. Belial hooted from somewhere above, and Zuriel stared on from the embankment, either disapproving, unimpressed, or somewhere in all of the above. “Seems like enough for today,” and with that, he stepped out of the grime and bog with Ru, fully intending to douse his figure in clean water soon thereafter.
