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!
she tied you to her kitchen chair she broke your throne and she cut your hair
The impending LongNight seems to have snuck up on her, as if it didn’t come like clockwork, every year. The difference is, of course, that this is the year before a war and the demigod suddenly finds that she’s been remiss in speaking with the Voice this season. Oops.
Down the wire, again, she gets her ass back in to the Labryinth and to the hidden shrine, sliding smoothly into a cross-legged position before the stones. She hasn’t been here in a while. The humble simplicity of this one evokes a sense of groundedness in her - or maybe that’s just her butt against the cold, hard ground. “I know it’s close to LongNight, Lady,” she begins quietly, “But if you have the energy, I hope you’ll visit with me for a moment. I’d like to know if it's possible to make some fire-proof armor.”
The labyrinth is suddenly alive with blue pulsing light as the Voice appears atop the shrine. She is remarkably still, despite the writhing of the hedges all around.
"Fireproof armour is a wise addition. Something like that is easily made, unless you had something more complicated in mind?" She tilts her head to the side inviting Wessex to elaborate on her idea if indeed there were any additional details the Wraith wanted to add.
she tied you to her kitchen chair she broke your throne and she cut your hair
She greets her goddess with a warm, loving smile, well aware of her fortune this late in the season.
There’s always more capabilities that Wessex would add if given free reign. Nodding eagerly, she chuckles. “You know me well.” After a moment to collect her thoughts, Wessex starts again, detailing potential modifications. “I can think of two ways to go. Either fireproof armor that allows the wearer some level of fire manipulatione, or pure armor, head to toe, something that could be collapsed and carried in a pocket, or given to another person.” After all, there are about eight other people who could benefit from something fireproof. Wessex isn’t the type to keep it just for herself.
Silently the Voice considers. "Any fire that comes near our family will always be risky. Even for the strongest among you, the smallest bit of flame could prove almost fatal." She replies. "So while such a thing might be possible, I am not sure it is worth the risk."
As for a collapsable bit of armour? It would certainly take some doing, but the Voice had no doubt that Wessex would be up to the challenge. "Full body armour that nullifies the effects of fire would be beneficial. If struck we could make it so that the wearer would receive none of the potentially fatal ramifications of having been struck by fire."
she tied you to her kitchen chair she broke your throne and she cut your hair
No matter how many times she’s told this, Wessex always seems to want to find a way to get rid of the fire problem. Maybe one day they’ll have a breakthrough, but until then, she nods, shrugs ruefully, and accepts the redirection. “If it could prevent excess damage or death by fire, that would be ideal.” They can come back from the brink of death; all it takes is a shrine and the will to do so. “Ronin’s Pheonix shift and Remi’s… new… whatever it is,” Ifrit’s aren’t a normal Caido thing, “are sure to cause us trouble in the future.”
It might be worth it for her to take a full fire hit. But for Nate, Isla, or anyone else? Absolutely not.
"Ifrit." The Voice supplies. "It is a creature composed nearly of fire. A bit on the nose as far as shifts go, but...no one ever said the old gods were particularly inventive." She adds with a dismissive shrug, before her expression turns softer. "If I could perfect you all right now, I would. The thought has crossed my mind of placing you all into stasis until I could make it so that you were untouchable, but..." She shakes her head solemnly.
"You have always been a protector of our family. I think with that in mind creating a vacuum in which fire cannot exist would be a better use of your skills—and a better way to keep your brothers and sisters safe—than a set of armour."
Wessex has been given a quest. She must,
1. Steal mastered air from an abandoned (if no PCs are readily available, an NPC will work)
2. Complete a training thread using the mastered air to try and create a vacuum (she won't be able to, but give it a go)
3. Acquire bark from a coniferous tree (GW, Kings End, Hollowed Ground)
4. Acquire a succulent (Hak Etme, Oerwoud)
she tied you to her kitchen chair she broke your throne and she cut your hair
It will never cease to amaze the demigod how some of their interactions turn out - thinking they might go one way, then they end up twisting pleasantly in another. “Ifrit…” she repeats quietly, rolling the name in her mouth, feeling its spikey edges, and finding it very much like something Vi would come up with, indeed.
“Maybe if this war doesn’t end it all - before the next one?” she jests, of course, an impish twinkle in her eye as the demigod tries to make light of a shitty situation. The Old Gods won’t stop until one side or another is truly done for. The prospect of another power pleases her, naturally, the Wraith just hopes that she’ll be able to end up at the right place at the right time and can put it to use keeping the family safe. “Thank you, Lady I’ll get on those tasks, then.”
Before she pushes herself up to standing, Wessex offers the static image a warm, loving, close-lipped grin. “I hope you have a restful LongNight.”
