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!
// and if i was the only thing you couldn't bear to lose, i'd set fire to the wood, just so you wouldn't have to bury me too //
He’d disappeared for a little bit, only to return to the Grounds for what he assumed to be just a short trip. Until, of course, he’d heard the news. Everything seems to start falling into shit again and at this point Sunjata’s completely out of the mental capacity to do much other than muscle memory – settling in and going about his business, sticking his fingers into places that could benefit him, avoiding those that brought too much onto his shoulders.
This was an easy thing, back at the VlamVloed, a glass of his favorite whiskey, a few little lantern parts nearby, a paintbrush, a few different water colors to attempt to use his magic to try and create something unique for Sam. Gideon was someone that Sunjata was happy to hear is gone. Sam on the other hand? It’s a shame.
There’s a small ball of water that he has floating over his shoulder, one he uses to dip into a few of the water colors, working to mix a few of them together before he takes the paper material of the sides and flattens them against the metal frame.
SUNJATA
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.
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
Amun pushed open the door to the VlamVloed with more force than was strictly necessary. Unable to say how much time had passed since Sam's death because timelines, the potter stared at the hallway that led to the backrooms. Standing completely still, just his head pivoted to stare at Sunjata.
It was clear the Flood was working on something, perhaps a lantern, but definitely an art project. The Ascended didn't say anything for a long moment. Finally, though, he spoke, his voice low and carrying a raspy edge to it. "Who's that for?" Stepping into the room proper, he walked over to the bar, coming to a stop and falling silent and becoming motionless once more.
// and if i was the only thing you couldn't bear to lose, i'd set fire to the wood, just so you wouldn't have to bury me too //
There’s a part of him used to the fact that people seem to just barge in however they feel like. Especially nowadays with what appears to be so much shit happening every time they turn the corner. He’s gotten better about not flinching though – the safest place for him realistically is probably the Grounds anyway. So he flattens the piece of paper, waits silently as he flattens the piece of paper to it, glues it down and waits for it to dry, all while working on mixing a few of the colors with his magic.
He lifts the glass of whiskey to his lips, casting a glance sidelong at Amun who seems to hover. “Samuel.” Sunjata murmurs, setting the glass down and casting a glance back over toward the potter, not knowing the depth of the relationship between the two of them. So instead, he squints at the lantern, leaning back to grab a pack of cigarettes that he lights with a match he puts out immediately, taking a deep drag from it as he stares at the lantern some more. “Perhaps the softest lantern I’ve made yet.” A different material, but one that he hopes that the bookmaker would have enjoyed.
SUNJATA
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.
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
At the mention of Samuel's name Amun let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd taken. His gaze trailed over the materials Sunjata had assembled, lingering on the paints for a moment. Then they slid up to meet the Flood's gaze. "I see." The potter paused, before adding, "Mind if I join you?"
Not even waiting for an answer he grabbed the nearest stool and moved it closer. Plopping onto it, his fingers twitched as he scanned the supplies once more. "Perhaps. But probably not the last." Grimacing, he grabbed an unused piece of paper, before patting his pockets. Eventually, he scrounged up a battered looking quill and an inkwell that was miraculously still sealed.
// and if i was the only thing you couldn't bear to lose, i'd set fire to the wood, just so you wouldn't have to bury me too //
“I don’t mind.” He offers, though it’s not like it matters much. Amun’s already taking a seat, dragging a stool over to sit beside him. Sunjata’s gaze flickers back to the lantern, leaning forward as he leaves the cigarette between his lips, poking and prodding at the glue slightly as he checks to make sure it won’t dry down with bubbles, before he regards Amun taking the piece of paper.
He pushes his lantern back a little bit, reaching for a few of the materials to make a base that he doesn’t plan on using, drawing them into a small little pile that he moves to set on Amun’s side, careful to not interrupt whatever it is he’s doing with the quill. And when he gets back to his own lantern, it’s dried up enough. “Probably not. You can use those if you want to make one too.” He offers, grabbing a paint brush and dipping it in the little pool of water he’s summoned, before he starts to wet the paper with just the wet brush, to get exactly what parts he wants wet and the others he leaves dry.
SUNJATA
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.
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
Nodding at Sunjata's acceptance, Amun stared at the blank page before him. "Thanks," he heard himself saying. However, it sounded distant and echoey, as if someone else was saying the words.
Jerking his chin at the paint the Flood was using, the Ascended reached down to his belt for his knife. "You want some help or advice with that?" Unsheathing the blade, he sharpened the end of the quill. Uncorking the ink, he set the cap aside.
Then he froze, tip of the quill hovering over the black liquid. Eventually, though, he dipped it and began writing. Again, time did a weird thing, and he didn't know how long he sat there in silence. He did speak, though he didn't look up from his page as he did. "You know the Order." It wasn't a question. "Why. Why do they want to erase us?"
// and if i was the only thing you couldn't bear to lose, i'd set fire to the wood, just so you wouldn't have to bury me too //
“Hm, maybe in a little bit. I want to try my hand first.” He offers Amun, though there’s a small smile offered to the other man’s way. A way to say he’d reach out when he wanted to, but he needed to at least try it first. Get a feel for it.
It’s what keeps him distracted despite the quiet that overtakes Amun, Sunjata working to add the swaths of water along the edges he wants, before he dips the brush into the colorful hues, soaking it up and moving to the parts he’d already soaked, before he drops the bits of color into it, watching it spread out much like ink dropped into a vat of water.
It’s a good thing he’s not trying to be precise when Amun’s question hits him, a frown tugging on his lips, dragging harder on the scarred side of his face. “I think it’s fear.” He says softly. “And some pious right they think they’re owed to fix what they consider to be broken. It doesn’t help that they’ve had centuries to sit there and feed it down everyone’s throats that the Ascended are monsters.” He sighs, setting the brush down to use his magic to spread the watercolor a bit more. “You should see the looks I get when I’m in Stormbreak and they see all the bite scars I have.” This is aimed with a small amount of humor, even if it’s sad.
SUNJATA
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.
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
Nodding at Sunjata's response, Amun bent over the paper he was writing on. His hand scribbled in straight lines, the text filling up the page in neat, if blocky, letters. If the Flood happened to glance over at it, he'd see it was filled with a series of vignettes describing the dates the potter and Samuel had been on.
The Ascended shook his head without pausing in his task. "Fanatics." Growling under his breath, his free hand formed into a fist. "I'm not saying the Voice is perfect. I know she's done a lot of harm to a lot of people. But us Ascended...we just want to be left alone." He closed his eyes for a moment. "Why were you in Stormbreak?"
// and if i was the only thing you couldn't bear to lose, i'd set fire to the wood, just so you wouldn't have to bury me too //
Sunjata would like to say that he isn’t snoopy enough to look and see what exactly it is Amun is sprawling all across the paper. But he knows that he isn’t, that he’s certainly intrigued, so it comes as little to no surprise that he glances over, catching lines here and there, spying the little dates that Amun and Samuel had been on, and something in Sunjata’s stomach drops.
He glances back to what he’s working on, moving the paint around until he withdraws, letting it dry as he sits back, pulling the cigarette from his lips to flick out the ash in the ashtray, picking up the glass of whiskey to take a sip right after. “You know… I had the blight, and even still? I still don’t think it’s fair the rep the Voice has.” He works his jaw. “I once thought I related to her to an extent. Unfortunately, I thought that in the presence of Safrin and that was… I’m sure you can imagine.” He shakes his head, sucking in a long deep breath.
Why was he in Stormbreak indeed. “I was supposed to bring my daughter to see her sister. And at the time, Seren lived in Stormbreak.” He shrugs, picking the cigarette back up and drawing in a deep breath of smoke.
SUNJATA
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.
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
Although Amun caught the motions Sunjata made in the corner of the potter's eye, he didn't comment on them. Instead, he simply finished the page he was working on and nabbed another. Before he started writing on it, though, he glanced up, meeting the Flood's gaze.
"The blight was bad, yes. I know it was. But so was the mud monster that assaulted the Festival, which was Rae's doing. And the Fae murdering Ascended, which was retaliation for our assault on the Mathair. And any number of things both sides have done through...well, through centuries." Sighing, he shook his head. "Violence begets violence unless someone gives up on vengeance. The Ascended are willing to stop before one side is eradicated. Can the same be said for the old gods?"
Snorting, the Ascended dipped his chin again and started scribbling. "She was totally understanding and respected your personal feelings as personal and none of her business, of course." On the subject of personal business, he nodded when the other man explained about his children. "Is she...are they still in Stormbreak?" He paused, then shook his head. "Sorry. None of my business." Shifting, he bent over the paper once more.
// and if i was the only thing you couldn't bear to lose, i'd set fire to the wood, just so you wouldn't have to bury me too //
Sunjata clicks his tongue at the mention of the mud monster, a small wince creasing the newly formed wrinkles at the edge of his eyes. “If it weren’t for the mud monster, I wouldn’t have met Nate when I did.” He admits with a small shrug. It was a tragedy, for sure, but for Sunjata? Aside from nearly drowning in the mud, he’d found his soul mate. Still, Amun makes some good points and Sunjata’s left to wait for the water color to dry and sip from his whiskey before he continues to add a bit more paint. “No. Not with Safrin and Ludo about.” A shoulder rises and falls. “Frey’s the only one that doesn’t seem to care that much.” And it was a big major point of turning for Sunjata.
In terms of Safrin’s response, this quirks his lips in a small smirk, a hum of a laugh vibrating through his chest. “Of course.” It wasn’t at all how it went, but the sarcasm is dripping and Sunjata can understand and agree at the very least.
As for his daughter? The smile fades, the frown returning as he focuses on painting swaths of color into the paper on the lantern with a bit more attention than before. “No.” He says easily. “When I became Frey’s demigod, Safrin convinced my daughter that I didn’t care about her and that Ronin would protect her better. So. Last I heard she was in the Greatwood.” He’s unaware the fact that she’s up in the stars now with Seren. A fact that’s probably better for him not to know.
SUNJATA
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.
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
Nodding at Sunjata's comment, Amun didn't reply. Instead he set his quill down. Leaning forward, he blew on the drying ink, then set both pages aside. Sitting upright, he grimaced at the Flood's admission that Ludo and Safrin would never spare the Ascended. "And what does Frey want?" The potter spun in his seat to face the other man.
As the story about the demi-god's children unfolded, Amun pressed his lips into a line. "What a petty bitch," he muttered under his breath. Reaching out, he clasped the other man's shoulder. "Could you ask Frey's help in getting her back?" The potter tilted his head to one side, genuinely not knowing whether the herald of nature would care, though given their nature it seemed they should.
// and if i was the only thing you couldn't bear to lose, i'd set fire to the wood, just so you wouldn't have to bury me too //
He considers the question for a moment, trying to figure out where to start. “They want me to be a mediator.” In a way, that’s the gist of it that Sunjata had understood. “They’ve even told me to go seek out the Voice and speak with her on a collaboration of sorts.” He draws back briefly, straightening up to put out his cigarette to cast a glance back toward Amun. “Their goal is to make sure there’s still life after the war. I doubt they care about much more other than life continuing and reproduction.” That’s what he’d managed to get out of it.
His attention only fully turns to Amun when his shoulder is clasped. “I could, maybe, but. I don’t want to.” He’s quite decisive on that. “In an effort to not be my horrible father, I don’t want to force her into anything. She’ll come to me if she wants to, if she doesn’t, well, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m still her father.” She could be disappointed in him all she wanted, but he wasn’t going to force her to repair bridges.
SUNJATA
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.
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
Arching an eyebrow at Sunjata's response, Amun rocked back in his seat a bit. Humming a low note, he felt a laugh bubbling up in the back of his throat. However, it didn't reach his eyes, and what came out had more than an edge of hysteria to it. "Is that all?"
Shaking his head, he snorted one last time. "A small order for one man." Inclining his head towards the Flood, the Ascended drummed his fingers on the bar. "I imagine you'll go with Nate, but let me know if there's anything I can do." For a moment, his hands formed into fists before he forced them to relax.
Turning back to the pages, he slid a bracelet off his arm. "The fact that you worry about it means you're already better. And I'd tell you that it's your choice except that it sounds like Safrin flat out lied, and maybe if your daughter knew the truth she'd be more likely to change her mind." Shrugging, he slid a finger around the bracelet he'd removed.
