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!
It is without a doubt colder than an elephant may normally enjoy, but the man within still marvels at how warm Torchline remains even in the depths of winter. His home city had been frigid, soot-stained and vile, with hundreds dying in the streets every winter without fail. Even now he is grateful to have been brought to Caido, to put an end to the agony of having to witness such things day after day, when every night he would fight to try and improve a city drowning in its own corruption.
With memories like those to keep him up at night, Harper makes an effort to embrace the little things when he can. Today, that is entertaining a group of kids by showering them from above with water held in his trunk. The water is cold, but the kids remain undeterred, and though they’re too young to Attune - and thus talk to him - their joy is infectious and warms his heart. Jude will be their age before he knows it, and it still stuns him to think about it. As a grinning pre-teen plays with one of his large ears, Harper sprays the hoard anew, and discards all thoughts of the past and the future alike to enjoy the moment.
Once I had been wasted land but you have made me meadow green again
She's not afraid of the dark: it comes every day, after all, just that this time it stays a bit longer. Not that Torchline is ever truly dark—the torches and bonfires flicker and spit, and she's got more than a few fond memories of previous years. Cozy, colder nights, curled up in her rarely used knitwear with a cup of steaming warm chocolate...
maybe the crazy beach party or two from her youth
As she walks down the beach (still barefoot, even if the sand is cold, having forgotten the sun) she can't help but feel a.. shiver, of sorts. Imagine it was unsafe, every shadow a monster, full of teeth and thorns and bad intentions, and then imagine that for some people, in some corners of this world, that was reality.
The heart-pounding terror. The trepidation. The raw, aching grief once morning comes. How brave mustn't those people be?
Her musings intersect with childish, high-pitched sounds; torchlight flickers over something immense and moving, the spray of water, and her mouth goes dry
(her pulse a roar)
—her gut clenches and she runs, breathlessly, a panicked streak with no plan, just intention, but—
There's no monsters in Torchline to tear your heart out. It's just an elephant (isn't that one of the Council members..?), spraying kids with water in the surf; those high-pitched sounds that carry so well? Laughter, not screams. There's no carnage underfoot, no blood and charred, trampled bodies, just some joy to lighten up the dark.
She clutches her hands against her chest, against her racing heart, unsure of what to do now that she has rushed onto the fringes like a madwoman.
Figures in the dark come and go, but none with the swiftness the newcomer employs. Harper tenses, large soft ears pinning back against his thick neck as he braces for…anything. Torchline, for all he loves it and is honored to preside over it, is not full of the safest people. These children are under his protection for the moment, and he will defend them with great prejudice if needed. Though his mighty feet hold firm to not accidentally injure any of them, there is a warning to his animalistic posture - one that softens immediately when the frantic breathing and whites of eyes are made apparent.
Sympathy washes over him immediately. Not wanting to startle the children or make them aware of any concerns, Harper takes a chance and reaches for the Attuned bond. It’s okay, they’re safe. Are you alright? His concern is a soft and lovely thing, without pressure or scrutiny. Blowing more water into the air, the children shriek in delight, but Harper’s eyes are entirely for the shaken woman on the beach.
Once I had been wasted land but you have made me meadow green again
It's not the fact that he reaches out to her; that part is expected, normal even between two like them. No, it's the way he does it, the way he feels as his thoughts brush against hers, much too gentle and kind and threatening to dissolve her sudden panic into confused tears. A safe harbor, a bastion as strong as the body he inhabits, and yet so warm. She gulps down air, holds her breath for a moment in an attempt to settle her racing heart and heaving chest.
It's not very effective. She can still taste the panic on her tongue. "Yeah, I, I just—" She looks at the children illuminated by the flickering fires; the ones which had turned to watch her mad approach are distracted by a fresh shower. Their happy screams makes her want to run away. It's too loud, too sharp, and honestly just hightailing it out of there feels like a really good option.
Buuuuuuut....
She doesn't want to admit what she was thinking, not where they can hear her. She doesn't want to spoil their carefree moment.
And equally, she doesn't want to just run the fuck away when he's being really nice and, well, that only leaves one option, doesn't it?
It feels like relief.
Muscles stretch and widen, bones rearranging themselves as her joints change shapes and angles; her skin grows fuzzy, pale in the dark and gold in the firelight. Her tail flicks once, and she feels better already. More grounded. Her ears prick in the direction of the elephant. She's gambling, hoping none of the children have chosen to attune yet. I was thinking about the stories of LongNight from the Hollowed Grounds. Then I heard the children, and, well... There's something rueful there, mingled with the slowly calming beat of her large heart. A scream's a scream, and you did look quite frightening, she finally admits, feeling equal parts bold and anxious.
