Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
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03-09-2022, 02:21 PM (This post was last modified: 03-09-2022, 02:22 PM by Darkeye.)
Darkeye
Nine strikes
Darkeye listened to the whole thing and could imagine Rexanna and Bastien doing it together and had to grin slightly. "I would have really liked to have seen them laughing a lot. He talked a lot about her when I met him, I think he's happy to be with her now." Darkeye smiled at this statement and looked up at the sky without realizing it. "I have tools for stonework if it's not too small, I should be able to do it." He said with conviction and packed up the things he had taught."Should I take yours too or are we coming back here."
"I thank you for the hint, but I think I'll try anyway. I don't owe it to him, but at least I want to try to find his body. Otherwise, I don't think I'll ever be able to sleep peacefully."
I never had a chance to be soft I was always bloody knuckles
Her head lifted slightly, at the mental image of Rexanna and Bastien being together again. Perhaps that was the only thing that brought a smile to her face in that moment – because, yes, that’s what the artist had ached and hoped for. “Well, I hope they’re at peace now.” No inclinations towards a war brimming and brewing beyond, no semblances of skirmishes and upheaval from two individuals who’d never yearned or crave for such violence.
The grin went away rapidly, immediately thereafter. “But what about Azrael…,” a quiet, contemplative murmur, a rarity from the sprite.
Half-distracted from that particular, newfound melancholy, she passed the stones over to Darkeye without argument, and hands went to pick up her lantern pieces, sliding them back into the bag. “Oh. Where are your tools?”
and shards of glass I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
Darkeye nodded at her, visibly pleased at the thought. The man did not want the war and should not have to witness the whole thing.
His gaze turned sad and wrinkled. "I haven't met him yet, I wanted to clear my head first. Besides, I don't think I'll be able to give him much comfort. But I feel very sorry for his companion." Darkeye remembered the figure of Gremlin and hoped that he had not met the same fate.
Darkeye took out his backpack. "Some I have here, some bigger ones I have in my hut in the Grounds. I think I can do a lot with the small ones here." Darkeye didn't want to go back there for now.
I never had a chance to be soft I was always bloody knuckles
“They have other Ascended now, I’m sure,” she murmured, nose wrinkling slightly, but still. A loss was a loss of parents, no matter the amount of found family or otherwise surrounding them. The companion too – she hadn’t thought of that one. Her eyes went downward, towards lovely little Fangorn rumbling about in the edges of the spring – wondering over the state of her future dragon as well. What would happen to them, if something occurred to her?
A thought, she’d honestly, never processed before.
Instead of gleaning inward, her feet were light along the brink, gaze flicking back to Darkeye for a moment as he placed his pack down. “Oh. All right. I’ll keep finding stones if you want to cut them up.” It would give something for her to do, rather than restlessly clamber in some age-old, worn out, sentiments of grief.
and shards of glass I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
Darkeye wiped away a tear and tried not to let it show that he had not taken the loss well. He set to work and divided the stones that were larger so that the light of the sun could penetrate them well and a beautiful color was reflected. With the stone saw he tried to make the contours of Rexanna and Bastien from several stones. That one could clearly see that this lantern was dedicated to the two. Colorful it should be as it was Bastien in his eyes. "Bring me a pair of big ones if you can, they'll be easier to work with." He called after her. He took his pot out of his backpack and started to make a fire to melt the small stones he was now producing.
I never had a chance to be soft I was always bloody knuckles
“Got it,” she nodded, hesitating momentarily, eager to watch how some of the tools cut into stone. But knowing she had a purpose, something to do, the youth bounded back into the spring’s reach. Fangorn followed alongside, more apt and distracted by passing, fleeing insects, but Melita kept her eyes peeled for any larger rocks.
The appealing nature of several along the blue and emerald spectrum gave her pause, and she flickered along the outstretch of the embankment, pondering how best to snag them without being burned. After a while, she retrieved a stick, long enough to start pushing and shoving the granules closer to her wake, dragging it along colorful silt, until they were nestled in her reach.
Then she returned to the older man’s side, crouching down, palms full of the hued earth. “How about these?”
and shards of glass I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
Darkeye looked at the earth and nodded. "I'll try to wall them up they look nice." He smiled. Then he turned to the fire. "The fire needs to burn really well for once I need the embers to glow white can you take care of that?" He asked her politely.
Meanwhile, he continued to cut the stones into thin slabs. And laid them neatly next to each other. Then he took out some sandpaper and worked on the edges so that they fit together better. He concentrated very much because this work was something personal. He did not care if Ludo would find the lantern beautiful, it was important to him to keep the memory of Bastien and Rexanna alive.
I never had a chance to be soft I was always bloody knuckles
Even if she couldn’t, the honeybee would’ve tried anyway. “Sure.” Away from the rocks and pools, she brazenly wandered over to the outskirts of the woodline, looking for some dried proportions. Considering the last season they were in, and the level of heat, Melita presumed there’d be some scattered amidst the brush, and while it took a few minutes, managed to come back with a bundle of sticks and leaves in her arms.
Placing them along the fire, intending to let it roar, her eyes immediately went to the other remnants, watching as the stones began to take shape – tending to the flames every so often, listening for the sizzle, snap, crackle, and pop.
and shards of glass I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
Darkeye laid out the four sides he planned to make for the lanterns and sanded them well. "What do you think?" he said, curious about her opinion. One side showed Bastien painting and from the side. Right next to it Rexanna would stand looking like she was modeling. For the other pages, Darkeye had tried to model both of them in an intimate embrace. The last page was written True love does not die. Darkeye had taken apart his storm lantern and wanted to use the ram for the discs. Each stone that she had brought was incorporated into it, it was a colorful play of colors.
I never had a chance to be soft I was always bloody knuckles
Melita was ever the nosey inspector, taking her time to glance and look at each side. Each seemed to signify them well – Bastien painting, Rexanna modeling, the saying sweet. She smiled, pondering, tilting her head vaguely. “Maybe Rexanna can have a crown. She was quite a noble queen.” A distinction and honor, to be fair and trusted, well before the war ever decided to descend upon their doorsteps. Otherwise, she couldn’t see anything else warranting correction. Per the review, she smiled, head tilting. “Everything looks great. Do you need anything else?” Eager, and probably restless, to help and assist – an easygoing distraction rather than gnarled and knotted memories.
and shards of glass I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
Darkeye considered for a moment. "A crown is usually made of gold, right? I don't know if we'll find anything comparable here. You find me some good stones for the crown, and I'll start putting the other sides together." Darkeye set about stoking the fire with the materials Melita had collected. He laid the stone slabs nicely together and placed them neatly on a flat stone. He then filled the areas with the sand and small pellets that he had obtained by rubbing the stones together. Once that was done, he first made the side with the spell to see if it worked the same way here. Then he put the white charcoal over it and hoped that the sand would form into black.
I never had a chance to be soft I was always bloody knuckles
Nodding in agreement, she pondered over the rest of the complexities too, springing about with ideas when her mind wasn’t cluttered with melancholy. “Oh, and maybe Bastien can have a matching golden paintbrush or something!” The man had always been overly fond of special clothing and styles, or so it seemed to the honeybee. Perhaps that as well.
With purpose unfurled again, the youth sprung back into action, looming along the edges of the embankment. “We need some gold,” she uttered and hummed to Fangorn, who waved his vines around (probably colorblind and incapable of defining which hue was which) in support, at the very least. She circled the heights of the pool once, brows furrowed in concentration, before spying two gilded-looking fragments, though perhaps more orange depending on the right light. Snagging them from the fringes, she ran back in haste, offering them out on her palm for Darkeye to inspect. “Will these do?”
and shards of glass I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
Darkeye thought the idea was grandiose and nodded in agreement. "A good idea so we can emphasize his love for art a little more. If you have more ideas we can change something if you want." Darkeye did not want to claim the lantern for himself and hoped that more ideas would come from Melita.
Darkeye took the stones from her hands and looked to see if she had hurt herself. The stones were beautiful and he started to clean them. He showed Melita how to cut the stones cleanly. With patience and care, the stones were cut into slices and the edges were cut cleanly.
I never had a chance to be soft I was always bloody knuckles
She considered again, weighing out the details and parameters in her mind, keenly spying upon the lantern once more. “Nah. I think with those additions it’ll be perfect.” Crouching down, eyes keen and steady, her level of interest and intrigue in anything slicing or dicing remained, holding her attention eagerly, fervently, as the older man went about cutting the stones once more. Clean and proper, diligent and careful; something the honeybee could probably stand to study and understand, given her propensity for impetuousness.
When that seemed finished for the moment, her restless energy coiled back to the forefront. “Do you need anything else for it?”
and shards of glass I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
