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!
06-09-2022, 04:00 PM (This post was last modified: 06-09-2022, 04:40 PM by Odd.)
Sleep finds you. For our ascended friends your consciousness will shiver and then glitch, affording you a brief glimpse into this strange world where nothing exists other than towering walls of ice. Walls that form barricades and corridors.
Walls that make up a maze.
Upon entering, you can either go straight down the corridor or turn right. Mermaids will experience the maze either with legs, or with crisp canals to carry them through.
Anyone can participate in this drop. You will appear alone in the maze. Because this takes place in the IC-Correspondence board it won't increase your post count, but will count for levelling (meets the 'drop' criteria, but is not magical encounter). In order to participate have your character encounter the maze. Then you will DM ODD ON DISCORD (just Odd, not Odd and Honey) your choices. Your character will then progress through the maze. There can be multiple winners. Because you are all going through the same maze don't share your answers with anyone!
This thread will be open for 5 days for those who wish to participate.
Well this was certainly a strange dream, now wasn't it? Moments ago Flora had been sun-baking on the beach with Jack a handsome man offering her a drink and complimenting her attire. Now she was somewhere that should have been cold but thankfully wasn't.
Trickling her fingers along the ice walls jutting before her, Flora frowns with thoughtful consideration before shrugging. We never heed common sense in dreams, and when one is presented with a maze, there's really only one thing to do, now isn't there?
Whistling something cheerful, Flora enters the maze.
We need love, But all we want is danger We team up, Then switch sides like a record changer
The ice was undeniably beautiful as Hadama swam out of the peaceful starsea of one dream and into another. The transition was a gentle one in the way of quietly abstract dreams, and the mermanta approached the towering walls of ice with curiosity and interest rather than fear or trepidation. He was not a man given to nightmares, and he did not expect one here.
Broad wings stretched from his back and shoulders, propelling him with slow grace through the faintly sparkling waters of sleep as he followed the glittering curve of one wall until he reached an opening that allowed entrance. Pausing only a moment, he turned to swim into the frozen labyrinth; what could a little exploration hurt?
Pleasant dreams are better these days than the more commonly experienced nightmares. Even her brief time in Halo can’t hold a candle to the beauty of the ice that meets her eyes when Evie opens them - closes them? - to take in the labyrinthine, shifting walls. It’s hard to tell if things like this are reality or not, but she doesn’t feel the cold, so the Evergreen doesn’t see a point in worrying just yet.
Letting her feet take her where they wish, an idle hand comes up to gently touch the wall closest to her, marveling quietly at the peacefulness of it all.
- - -
The world is new to you, and you to it. During PQ/PQ+/KQs/Drops, you roll with advantage on luck-based rolls and receive an extra name during drops.
a golden cage, for all its worth and beauty is still just a cage
Her dreams were sometimes unrelenting things – earth-shattering, colossal buildings coming down, down, down, or peaceful, serene juxtapositions between the gasping, gaping unknown, and the fragile existence so many on this plain held. But at this hour, her fox paws tread lightly into snow, into walls of ice, into blooming proportions of nothingness – corridors, barricades, halls –
Where was she supposed to go?
Her canny vulpine senses told her nothing else but to maneuver, meander, onward, to discover, to wonder, to speculate, rather than stay and drift behind. So with a vacant twitch of her nose, the Caretaker pressed onward, turning right.
Darkeye had a long day at the forge and all he wanted to do was sleep in peace. All the preparations for building the village and planning for Stormbreak were more exhausting than he thought. That is why he is surprised when he stands in the middle of the labyrinth and tries to orientate himself.
Occasionally most of these corridors followed a system, but the last time he was in one he lost his hand and two of his companions, a cold shiver spread up his spine and he hoped that this was really just a dream. The future will tell.
we're all stories unfinished and we die to find some fitting words to write
In the dark of night, while the rest of the world slumbers, Wessex… does not. Something unimportant keeps her busy, perhaps the scritch of a quill to paper or the idle, long strokes of sharpening a blade against a whetstone. Something glitches in front of her eyes and she frowns, putting whatever she’s working with down. It takes her a moment to realize that it’s another one of those things, and the natural eases, going willingly into the altered-state.
Once the world around her changes, Wessex grins to herself and strolls eagerly forward, tackeling the maze head on.
Chaele’s thoughts drift behind her eyelids, plans and lists and intentions sliding into more untenable reveries before the last of consciousness escapes her. Then the blanket of earth and leaves becomes frigid air and hard, slick walls; the meager warmth of a dying campfire becomes a breath-seeing chill; the branch-shredded moonlight becomes the eerie, pervasive light of knowing, rather than seeing.
The options stretch before her, beckoning, daring, waiting. At first she presses her back into the corner, refusing to oblige whatever will would compel her to make a choice. But the timeless time passes and she realizes that there is no escape, that the only way out is through. Jaw clenched, she takes a step forward.
She had been reading, and now she is here. This is a different type of being carried away into a story that Isla is used to; mainly because her book is nothing to do with icy mazes. Furrowing her brow, she glances around and reaches out to let her fingers ghost along the walls, feeling the idea of cold without experiencing it directly.
"How strange." This can't be a dream because Ascended simply don't, but at the same time, her body seems aware that it isn't exactly conscious either. Perhaps she is sick? Perhaps this is what dying is like for an Ascended nowadays? (It hadn't been like this the first time). Regardless, she presses onward, curious and morbid all at the same time.
sooner or later, we all have to wake and try forgetting everything
