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!
Bag in hand, meat from a ramphire inside, all that was necessary now was to cook it amongst the Lava Pits. Snagging at another relative and kin, figuring this would go better than the last time she’d ventured towards the Climb, she skipped along granite and earth, crust and mantle, seemingly unbothered by the threatening, ominous wake of the land. She rather liked it, honestly. No holds barred – it fumed and fueled, blistered and scorched – open and blunt about the dangers lurking at its seams. “Have you been here before?” Her head twisted back to Bart, shrugging her shoulders as she made her way closer to a particular pool of menacing, molten rock.
Fangorn was not a fan, and stayed relatively close to some boulders that didn’t appear near any fire, but she didn’t judge him. From her vantage point though, the youth picked a stone to sit upon, opening the satchel wide enough to retrieve the food. “What have you been up to lately?” By way of a conversation starter – figuring there had to be some excitement while they waited for everything to cook. Other than rounding up unicorns, of course.
Summer's over, love had left me screaming at the screen Oh, and it's understood that the both of us are no good
As the girl skips and skitters down the path, the man behind her strolls at an easy pace, like a giant dog plodding docilely on a leash behind a tiny child. It’s fuckin’ hot, and if he didn’t love the little firecracker he wouldn’t be here at all. As it is he hardly looks like himself with the attire he’s wearing. Without his leather jacket it’s more obvious he’s the slimmer of the twin brothers, and that does things to a guy’s ego y’know?
“Nah, I don’t go anywhere but Torchline or King’s End. I’m a professional bum.” He'd considered rebuilding the Society, but that would require leaving his family in King’s End. Sitting with legs sprawled once the honeybee picked her spot to perch, the man looks into her bag with plain interest on his face, knocking their ankles together idly. “Nothin’ interesting. Spoke to Wessex, got into a debate with the world’s most racist dude in Torch, that kinda stuff. Like I said, professional bum.” Snorting a laugh he kicks a rock into the flames. “What about you munchkin? Aside from the quest ‘n all.”
The honeybee snagged a skewer from her bag – because of course she had one, and it could double up as a weapon later if she so desired – and then tended to the meat within, grabbing a second for Bart to hold. She snorted at the insinuation, but made no argument to breach the statement. “No kidding,” sticking out her tongue as he knocked at her ankles. She would’ve thrown out an elbow, but she needed some level of assistance, and handed over the sharpened, metal rod, now with raw ramphire adorned.
“Racist dude? Is that the one who went preaching again?” Gideon, or some sort? She couldn’t remember catching his name, and she hadn’t been around for either debacle. “What’d Wessex have to say?” Considering the woman was a former mentor, and now one of the most powerful Ascended, it might have mattered in the grand scheme of things. “Keeping myself busy with the Ark, and training.”
