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!
Not because he got to travel from Stormbreak to Halo via magical compass (although that was very cool), or because he has a - frankly beautiful - new wardrobe of warm Deepfrost clothing.
No, he's puzzled because his parents are with him. Like, both of them. They'd travelled with him to the Citadel and they'd walked him (walked him?) all the way to the Hart abode, their footsteps crunching in the snow, Mateo strolling between them.
On the way, they'd talked. About Stormbreak, about the Collegium, about his greenhouse on the ground floor of the alchemy shop, about his (still grounded) skyship. About choices he has, and choices he'd like to make. And then they'd dropped him right at the doorstep.
So, while he's absolutely stoked to see his best friend, Mateo is still understandably bewildered as he's fussed over and then pointed in the direction of Ever's bedroom. "Hello?" he calls as he knocks on the door.
04-18-2022, 05:18 PM (This post was last modified: 04-18-2022, 05:19 PM by Everest.)
Everest
Ever is not confused, but rather has been paralyzed by the amount of change forced onto him.
Day 1 he'd had to deal with the cold, new surroundings, and new food. Though he'd thought about Mateo almost the entire time, his every single waking moment had been focused on not combusting.
Week 1: Having lived out of his suitcase, Ever had tried and failed to begin a new routine living in the Kraai, if only because he knew that his time there would come to an end. Not wanting to be an inconvenience or appear ignorant, the boy hadn't managed to find any paper with which to write Mateo a letter, despiting penning the words over and over in his mind.
Weeks 2-4: A new house. New noises and smells and shadows. It's overwhelming. The sheets on his bed are unfamiliar and Ever's dreams are filled with visions of Mateo shoving him out of his life, or accusing Ever of having abandoned him.
Month 2: Having concluded that Mateo hated him (he'd sent one letter and hadn't heard back; despite the likelihood of the bird simply having not made it to his friend, Ever is confident that it had, and that Mateo has simply cut ties with him), Ever has begun drowning himself in the study and research of skyships, thinking that if he can sail to Mateo, that will somehow fix this entire mess.
It's entirely unreasonable, but it gives Ever something to think about.
"Lunch isn't for another 24 minutes." Ever murmurs in response to the knock on his door, not looking up from behind his wall of books and structural drawings of skyships.
"Ever!" Mateo should not sound so excited to hear such a dry remark echo from the bedroom, but gods he really is. Dispensing with etiquette, the boy barrels into the room and lets his backpack slouch to the ground, already planning to scramble over to wherever his friend is sitting or laying or studying or whatever else, flinging his arms around him tightly.
"Ever, I'm here to visit! I missed you! I brought snacks from Stormbreak. Fa molto freddo qui. How do you cope?" Most of his words (travelling tongue and otherwise) are muffled from whatever part of Everest his face is buried in, and he'll remember his friend's proclivities later. For now, sorry, but he can't help but act like a happy kid.
It's a complete break in decorum such that Ever's heart rate has begun to skyrocket long before his friend wraps his arms around him. Not only is this scheduled study time, not only is no one allowed in his room (hormones, you know), but he's sure that Mateo hates him. So despite his friend's joyful entrance, Ever's heart drops to the bottom of his stomach and keeps him rooted in place.
"nnnnn." Ever mewls into the crook of Mateo's neck as he sits rigidly, wondering if he's having a minor stroke or if Mateo is simply speaking in another language. Slurred speech is an indicator of a stroke, but maybe slurred hearing is another? "Lunch isn't for—" His eyes move to the clock in the corner of his room. "—23 minutes." Ever says in response to the Stormbreak snacks.
"Then we can have Stormbreak snacks in 23 minutes, but not until after you have had lunch," Mateo breathes, every word wrapped around a smile. Straightening up when he realises that Ever has become an almost literal statue, Mateo is flushed and excitable and perhaps the least moody that he's been since the Hart family left Stormbreak.
Slouching back, Mateo ends up sitting on the floor of his friend's room, beaming up at him as he leans back on his hands. "The ravens kept coming back with my letters," he explains. "They couldn't make it to Halo, I guess the mountains or whatever made it too difficult?" Or they were just stubborn traitors, he guesses.
With eyes impossibly wide and a face utterly without expression, Ever holds his breath as he regards the man boy before him. Mateo is both exactly the same while being entirely different. His face is more...angular? and there are little dark hairs poking out below his nose and in patches on his cheeks. Mateo's hair is thicker too, or at least Ever thinks it is, and certainly his friend is a bit bulkier than he was if his hug is anything to go by.
"No snacks after lunch." Ever replies, a touch miserably because while he's desperate to pause this moment so that he can properly take stock of everything, that isn't an ability he has.
"Oh. Mine..mine just didn't come back." He mumbles, of his letters, still looking a touch bewildered that Mateo was here. Here in his bedroom. 'And so I thought you hated me because it took too long to write, and so then I thought I would just fly to you, and—" Ever gestures at the stacks of books, diagrams, and skyship models all around. "—and even though that might take years I thought I had better get a start on it, just in case you didn't, hate me, and—" Flushed and finally forced to take a breath, Ever cocks his head to the side.
"Could we make an exception for a special occasion?" Mateo asks, as if knowing all the buttons he might press to be able to tease his friend into straying from his usually rigid routine. Unlike Ever, Mateo won't notice the subtle differences in the other boy until later on when he's not so hyped up on adrenaline (but he's absolutely noticed them in himself over the past few weeks).
"They didn't? Poor birds," he mutters, though there's no small part of him that is relieved to learn that his friend has been trying to reach him as well. As for hating him? Mateo's eyes widen, the boy shaking his head enough that his curls fly into his face. "I thought you hated me," he confesses. "I just... I... skyships?"
As if noticing the books and the diagrams for the first time, the youngest Taliesin scrambles up to look over them further. "I don't hate you Ever. You're my best friend. I told my parents I missed you, so they took me here to visit."
"What constitutes a special occasion?" Ever wonders. "If it isn't rigidly defined, anything could be a special occasion." He reasons doubtfully, frowning, even as his stomach rumbles in protest.
'What? No!' Ever blurts with uncharacteristic force. "You're my best friend, and I thought of you every day. Even this morning, see—" Turning, Ever points to a calendar with days crossed out. On each is a number, counting up from the last time that the Hart boy had last seen his friend. 'Mmmhmm.' He mumbles, turning back. 'I thought if I could learn to fly, then if we were ever separated again, I could always find you.' Ever adds, watching apprehensively as Mateo begins to scan all of his various things.
Why didn't you ask them sooner? Ever wants to ask, but instead he just swallows and gets shakily to his feet. "In theory I can fly one. I know how to do everything and how it all works. Only..." The boy shrugs his shoulders. "Only there aren't any here so I haven't been able to practice."
"You're right," Mateo says with a flash of a grin. "It does mean anything can be a special occasion. And until we rigidly define it, I say that this is a really special occasion." So saying, he's already going to grab up his backpack so he can take out the snacks he's brought; pastries and candies and chocolates and crackers and all sorts of other things guaranteed to keep them up all night.
He's smiling so hard that his dimples might become permanent features on his face when Ever shows him the calendar, and he hugs his friend all over again. "I have a skyship, if you want to practice," he offers. "And I think my parents are going to see if there can be a skyport here, so I can visit whenever."
Setting down his bag again and letting Ever go, he peers over the designs with visible interest. "How is Halo?" he asks slowly.
Ever is of course frowning deeply in response to Mateo's LoGiC but he offers no further argument. Whether this is because he has none or simply because both his mouth and stomach are very interested in the snacks, is anyone's guess.
'Nnnn.' The Hart boy whines again as he's hugged, though of his arms does come to clutch awkwardly around Mateo's mid-section. 'They are?' Flushed, Ever hazards a smile. "Can they really do that? I mean, I know they're demigods, but...well...gee." Utterly silenced at the thought both of practicing on Mateo's skyboat and also having a permanent installation, Ever starts to feel lightheaded and a bit cold around his fingertips and toes.
"I think I might pass out." He says too casually. "Do you have anything sweet, or—" Sitting down rather hard on the edge of his bed, Ever blinks. 'Halo is cold and white, and...' Narrowing his eyes at himself in his mirror, the boy swallows. "I think that's just me."
"Well, they are both demigods yes, but Dad is also in charge of Stormbreak now. And he helped to build the skyports in Torchline and the Greatwood. So I guess now that Noah is running Halo, it makes sense to have one here too." Mateo grins, straightening up and stepping back to let Ever flump down onto the edge of his bed.
Already reaching for a bag of gummy candies (all the same flavour, Mateo had made sure), he presses them into Ever's hands and takes the seat on his chair instead. "Please don't pass out. I just got here," he says with a jovial smile. "And you are cold and white. Eat those, you will feel better." Glancing around Ever's room as if seeing it properly for the first time, Mateo taps his feet against the ground.
"I got you a present," he adds off-handedly. "I am a visitor to your house, and so it's polite to bring a present," he adds, before his friend starts panicking about not reciprocating.
Like a self-contained blizzard, a white dragon snarls overhead with an ursur clutched between its claws. Flying towards the high cliffs that no doubt are its home, it’s probably a good thing that it already has its dinner for the evening, lest you have become its meal.
You’ve encountered a White Dragon. This counts as a rare creature encounter for the purposes of levelling, but does not count as a Random Event for levelling or MP. There will be no further admin/re intervention. If you choose to follow this creature, you do so at your own risk, however, just having it in this thread is enough to satisfy your levelling requirements. You may not kill your rare creature without admin permission.
White Dragons (Rare/mythical): Living in underground tunnels that are warded with ice and snow, white dragons hoard treasure and anything they deem beautiful. Often this means that one might find gold, gems, and frozen humans stored in their caves. They can speak the basic common tongue and can communicate telepathically with the attuned, though they are secretive, vain, and usually aloof and unhelpful.
'Oh.' Ever mumbles even as his ears start to ring. "Oh." Accepting the gummies with stiff fingers, the normally polite Ever shoves them all into his mouth and chews without much satisfaction as Mateo surveys his friend's room. In true Hart fashion, everything is meticulously ordered and organized. There are diagrams of skyships, a console that Ever has made out of paper-mache, weather charts, and, embarrassingly, a few tennis balls and chew toys.
'Nnn, but—' Ever begins to protest as his blood-sugar levels begin to stabilize. Before he can finish his argument, there's a rumble from outside that makes the windowpanes shiver in their casings. "Oh no. Not again." Ever all but whimpers, drawing his feet off the ground to wrap his arms around his knees. "They keep doing this. Grabbing an ursur and then flying over the Citadel. Last week they dropped one right in one of the fountains, half dead. No one would go near it incase the dragon came back for it, so it just groaned and lay dying for hours."
"But nothing," Mateo says kindly, already snagging some chocolate so he can snack as well (and so that Ever won't feel so self conscious about eating, not that he thinks he'll notice right now). "It's just a houseplant. I thought it would be nice for you to have something in here to remind you of me. And maybe after lunch we could go out for a walk and see the big greenhouse?" If, you know, it still exists.
But then ooop, here comes a dragon to ruin everyone's day, and Mateo skitters across to fold himself onto Ever's bed next to his friend before his mind catches up. "What," he blurts. "You moved to a place where dragons drop half dead ursur into fountains?" Who's shitty idea was this? Mateo hates it. "Do you want to come and visit me instead next time?"
