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!
“This place really needs a gym, not a medieval training pit dirt patch,” Bart mutters to himself as he treks along through the outskirts surrounding the settlement. He’s not real keen on finding a swordsman to train him - a little too new to the area and perhaps a bit prideful - but he sees no harm in dusting off his skills the old fashioned way. Even when those skills are almost entirely related to brawling, fighting dirty, and evading getting pinned or cornered.
Dropping his bag he dutifully wraps his hands, medical training clearly apparent in the perfectly laid patterns. The mat had been harder to obtain, and the stuffing would fail far faster than modern foam, but for now it will work fine. Strapping it to the tree, Bart shakes his hair out of his face and throws his first punch. Falling into a moderate rhythm that slowly works up a sweat without tiring him out, remembering the proper angles and throws as time progresses.
Even if I do a little just to get me through the night Always getting me in trouble, smoking like I wanna die
It's gonna take a little time // But with you by my side
It wasn’t often that Alexander ran into anyone while training. Truthfully, he didn’t need to train like he did when he was human. It wasn’t like he could build the same muscle tone or even strengthen his endurance. Still, it was a habit. Something he couldn’t seem to break. Especially with no one to take up his time. Both Amun and Maea had disappeared without a trace again, leaving him alone once more. There was no explanation or reasoning behind it. Simply gone without so much as a word.
Pushing the thought of their last brief interaction from his mind, he pushes harder, arms pumping at his sides as he runs. Only when he hears the sounds of exertion up ahead does he slow, brows knitting together in confusion as his steps became more quiet. Strange. People didn’t usually come this far out.
He rounds a corner in time for his eyes to fall on an unfamiliar form. He almost mistakes him for Nate. Despite not having met the demigod, he’s seen him around enough to know what he looks like. It gives him pause, but then the man throws a punch and he winces at the impact. ”Keep swinging like that and you’re gonna end up with a broken thumb.”
Bart’s shoulders climb towards his ears the second he hears footsteps, but he grits his teeth and keeps at it, hoping it’s just some half-insane jogger who will pass by him without poking their nose into his business. Of course, this is the Grounds, and the runner is likely to be an Ascended - but why do the odds always have to be against his favor? Because soon enough the steps are slowing, and he throws a punch wrong out of sheer distaste for being watched, so of course whoever it is has to comment.
Bart spins around with a scowl, doe eyes dark and squinted against the sweat dripping off his brow. Only to have a moment of “ah fuck, he’s hot” the second he lays eyes on the nosey newcomer. At least the exertion has already made his cheeks pink, so the fluster doesn’t show as easily. “You make a habit ‘a wanderin’ round correctin’ strangers on their form? You must be a saint,” he mutters, accent thick with embarrassment and irritation and shoulders high like a pissed off kitten’s hackles. Bart might be tall, but he’s not nearly as built as Nate, and is both surprised by and pouty at the fact the other man is somehow taller. Arms crossing self-consciously over his chest - though he juts his chin challengingly to make it seem like it was intentional - Bart eyes the man suspiciously. “Unless you’re gonna do more’n make comments?” Because he’s too proud to ask for help outright.
Even if I do a little just to get me through the night Always getting me in trouble, smoking like I wanna die
