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!
01-09-2022, 06:28 AM (This post was last modified: 01-09-2022, 07:53 AM by Varus.)
honey, i rose up from the dead. i do it all the time
Moonlight shines overhead and Varus, despite how often he tells himself he’s done training, he pushes it and pushes it more and more. Even more so now, given the recent news of the Draig and his quiet wonder if the Order plans to begin throwing the war ahead of time. He’s left a note for Isla that he’s in the Fields, that if he’s not home by a certain time that she can come and find him – because he’s in his usual get up, too, the sleek black of his outfit with the mask, the way he’s testing everything out that he can to make sure it’s flawless.
And after a few seconds, a few targets he’d set up temporarily off in the distance, Varus takes the disk he’s got, activating it with its bright blue electric edges, sharpened and honed, and he effectively throws the disk at the target, clearly cutting off its head.
The Grounds are frustratingly more familiar than home, a fact that irritates Nate only slightly more than it relaxes him. There’s fewer worries about his nocturnal sojourning here, swaddled as they are in the fragile and more than likely imaginary safety of the Voice. He’s extra swaddled too, Pemota back in the VlamVloed with the twins and Sunjata, but Ramoth curled around his neck.
Maybe he’s gotten too used to the Wilds, stepped just a little too far away from his roots, but Nate doesn’t expect to come across anyone on his little journey. Least of all Varus. Least of all Varus looking decidedly deadly.
A brightly pitched chirp from the dragonling around his neck announces their presence as Nate comes up behind the other ascended, brows lifting with a reluctant recognition. “Gettin’ battle ready, huh old man?” A smirk tugs at one corner of his lips, Nate unable to stop it from twitching up.
But I know that time's gonna take me I know that day's gonna come
honey, i rose up from the dead. i do it all the time
He barely has the time to lift his own lips in a curl of a smile at the nailed target, stretching out his metal arm as he prepares to go and try to find where the fuck it’s gone to, before a chirp is heard followed with Nate’s voice interrupting the crickets in the night, and Varus stills like a statue (so he’s a bit on edge, who could blame him?) but he can take Nate off his own little edge as well. He turns halfway, the moonlight reflecting off the metal of his arm and beneath the wild untamed, much longer locks than the demigod is used to, is the raise of a brow.
War’s coming. Be stupid not to, huh kid? He teases softly, before he leans back, rolling his shoulders slightly. What’re you doin’ in the Grounds anyway? Thought you were fuckin’ off in the Wilds with that husband of yours? He steps over to his target to pick up his blue, glowing disk. Unless you heard the news, I guess. That would bring him back to the Grounds, wouldn’t it?
It is only because he’s used to the sensation already that Nate doesn’t flinch away from the voice echoing in his head instead of in his ears, but there’s still a thunderously dark cloud that gathers over his face. “Could you gimme some fuckin’ warning next time, jesus.” He snaps, reaching up to dig a pinky in his ear irreverently. At least he’d gotten his own spook in walking up.
“Its coming up sooner than I want, I’m trying to not think about it at all right now.” The grimace on his face shows just how successful he’s been with that endeavour, Nate shaking his head and shrugging, bothering Ramoth enough that he clambers out from around his shoulders and onto his head instead, big eyes on Varus. “I’m here playing escort, and taking advantage of the fuck room while I can.” Nate stops just short of thrusting his hips, the words crude enough already.
News sobers him right up again, Nate’s head cocking and making Ramoth squeak with frustration as he scrabbles for purchase. “I’m not exactly getting a weekly paper out in the Wilds. What happened?”
But I know that time's gonna take me I know that day's gonna come
honey, i rose up from the dead. i do it all the time
Oh, you mean by taking the time to take the mask off to tell you audibly and then put it back on? He asks with a bit more amusement twisting his words. No thanks. And there’s a part of him that softens slightly when Nate mentions he’s not been thinking about the war, about how it’s coming and honestly? Varus wishes he could relate. He wishes he had the chance to not sit there and go through the rounds of part two of what he had hoped to only be a one and done.
He grabs the disk, though, and as he’s turning back toward Nate he catches the dragon now perched on the demigod’s head and the tone of which Nate speaks, snorting softly through the mask as he very visibly rolls his eyes and steps back over toward him – having to look up, in order to do get a full view of him.
He activates the disk again and lets the blue edge glimmer brightly as he turns to face his next target, stepping over to stand at Nate’s side to keep him out of the way. Oh, you know, the Order killing us in the Draig. He says so nonchalantly that it’s almost like he’s commenting on the weather. He pulls back his arm, yeets the disk into the next target, lodging it into its chest, before he turns to Nate as he brushes the hair back from his face. Mabel, dunno if you knew her, was taken over by the Voice. Took out the Order’s Eye. There’s a slow whistle that leaves him with it. Wessex was there. She got us a boon. A hopeful turn in the upcoming war. She couldn’t save Mabel, though. But she managed to grab Cian’s body before leaving.
Bright eyes roll in obvious good natured irritation, Ramoth chancing a move back down to his shoulders when his head tilts. “Woulda been polite at least.” He points out, watching Varus and his disk carefully.
The Order doing what?!” Nate snaps, his voice immediately trembling with rage. He steps forward almost without thought, every part of him outlined in hard, harsh lines, from the stiffness in his jaw to the set of his shoulders to the clench of his fists. Mabel is a name he knows well, one that had haunted him. He’d watched her get washed into the sea, the first time, had watched her walk back out of that portal with the others.
A dozen angry ticks run through body, Nate working his jaw, his fingers tightening and loosening. “What good is his body supposed to be?” His lips curl around the words, a snarl that’s not exactly aimed at Varus, but… it’s not like there’s anyone else to look at. “What happened to having fucking time?”
But I know that time's gonna take me I know that day's gonna come
honey, i rose up from the dead. i do it all the time
All Varus can offer is the low hum of a hm, as if he’s taking it into consideration and pointedly ignoring it. When has he ever truly been polite anyway? Besides, there’s bigger fish to fry, letting the disk go as he explains what’s going on lately – the news that Nate’s missed out on – like Varus was some sort of Grounds Times. He heaves a sigh that Nate may or may not be able to hear before he stills and draws up his posture and focuses on Nate. You heard me. He doesn’t particularly want to repeat it.
But it was the truth of the situation as much as it made him just as sick. At the very least, Varus had time to process it rather than being the bearer of bad news. He had an item that gives information. We think it’s probably how the Order learned about shit nobody else knew. He shrugs a shoulder before he softens a bit and glances up at Nate, a look of melancholy crossing his face for a brief second before it disappears into something more like acceptance. I know, kid. There’s never enough time.
A voiceless sneer twists Nate’s face, venom that he doesn’t even have the words for dripping from his expression instead. “Obviously.” His throat very nearly closes around the hiss, his teeth grinding audibly.
At least something had come from it. A very good something, from the sounds of it. Nate’s jaw works around a shaky breath, and he nods, mostly to himself. “So now we can know shit no one else does?” He rolls his shoulders back, Ramoth finally giving up and fluttering to the ground.
He huffs again, and let’s his gaze flick away from Varus, blue pointing in the direction the disc had been thrown instead. “Was… was there any hope last time?” Nate doesn’t even know how much Varus saw of the war last time, doesn’t know when he’d turned off, for lack of a better phrase.
But I know that time's gonna take me I know that day's gonna come
honey, i rose up from the dead. i do it all the time
We can try. Still kinda figuring out how all of it works. Varus mumbles into Nate’s mind with a roll of his shoulders as he goes and picks up the disk and returns, spotting the dragonling on the ground that he walks over to and crouches before it – extending his fleshy hand so that the dragon might be able to sniff him. He’s always liked dragons – he especially likes Loki, as well.
Glancing up at Nate with the question, his brows pinch beneath his long hair before he huffs a small sigh and nods, focusing on the dragonling again. There was. He murmurs softly. But all it takes is one fateful battle to know who’s really standing with you. He admits, his voice twinging with a bit of annoyance and frustration. It’s part of the reason I got shut down in the Wilds. Not quite abandoned, but the only ones looking for him were also Ascended.
Also shut down. Or worse. Belatedly, his thoughts drift to Aamu and he reaches up with his other hand after setting the disk down to push his hair back from his face. Didn’t have the Eye’s book though. That’s a nice little boon.
Ramoth gives up on the bug he'd been chasing to instead come and inspect Varus' hand, sniffing at it curiously before plopping his body in an unceremonious curl, claws grabbing one of the ascended's fingers and holding it in place to be mouthed at, sharp teeth carefully gentle.
Leaning in towards Varus, Nate sighs, and finally takes a step closer, righting himself just a little bit again. He doesn't meet the eyes that turn towards him, looking away the moment he notices the ascended shifting and focusing instead on the targets in the distance. The question sitting on his tongue isn't the one he should ask, he knows that, knows he shouldn't press at Varus' circumstances, so he chews it down into nothingness, stopping just short of spitting it out on the heel of the question that does leave him. "Must suck shit, huh? Waking up and being in the same fucking mess as before."
Blue eyes return to Varus, following the disk's path to the ground before returning to a newly uncovered face. Between them, Ramoth all but purrs, tugging on the finger in his mouth. "It'll be enough, yeah? For... something, at least." Nate furrows his brow and works his jaw, trying to make the vulnerable words feel less strange coming out of him.
But I know that time's gonna take me I know that day's gonna come
honey, i rose up from the dead. i do it all the time
Thankfully the little dragon is gentle as he approaches, sniffing his hand and dropping in a curl that has him distracted, letting him mouth at his fingertips – after all, it isn’t like he’ll feel it. So Varus’ oceanic gaze rises to Nate instead, a more sea-colored hue than the electric of Nate’s own blues, watching as his attention flickers over toward the targets. It sucks yeah. Though I think the worst part is coming back and trying to go to your old home only to hear it’s been renamed the ruins and your home is left in shambles with hardly anything left behind. His lip feathers beneath the mask in his distaste.
As for the rest, though, he meets Nate’s gaze with the announcement of the book being enough. He unlatches the mask from his face, letting it hang from one side as he goes to pull it away with his metal hand, his jaw working slightly. “Should be. It tells us the relics people have. We can make plans to avoid those carrying it or targeting them… Or finding ways to work around them, too. We didn’t have that before.” He offers in the hopes it makes Nate feel better.
Rising with a hum of an apology to the dragon, Varus draws himself up to his full height – still not as tall as Nate, but with an air around him that seems to suggest they’re on similar footing. “C’mon, I’m gonna tear down my targets and bring them back to the Barracks if you wanna walk with me.” The suggestion is offered easily for Nate to agree or disagree with, before he’s stepping away to grab said targets and take the little jaunt back to the Barracks.
