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!
"Wait, really? ...Huh." Tal's ignorance about Ascended was showing as he blinked in surprise at this revelation. But his surprise turned into a glare at being called an idiot; all the more because he kinda of felt like one, but having the stranger point it out was the worst. "Well how am I s'posed to know? An' she didn't breathe fire on you, moron. She was just sniffin' you!" For treats, undoubtedly. Boreal had long since learned that pockets often contained such things, but her breath was certainly hot enough to give the impression that she had.
Tal's scowl deepened in confusion at how easily the stranger seemed to hand him the point and then faded in surprise at the unexpected offer. "Well, uh..." He wriggled a little, this time trying to dislodge a rock from beneath his hip and then huffed an exasperated sigh. "Boreal, please!."
As if she'd been waiting for the magic word the dragon let out a smoky chortle and shifted with a great deal more care for her talons than a dog would have had. She was almost dainty as she stepped off of Bart and gave herself a contented shake beside the two men.
Tal sighed in relief as some of the weight came off him and he remembered what the other man had asked. "I'm lookin' for snow moss," he admitted, a little gruffly. "Heard these woods were the place for it."
His naivety - because Bart can be nice sometimes and not call it other, far less kind things - is not surprising, but it is exasperating, so he rolls his eyes shamelessly. “You ask, kid. Ascended ain’t boogeymen, s’not like we can’t talk to or about ‘em.” Which most people seem to do; assuming, taking the word of other non-Ascended people as truth, until the actual facts are turned into something more like myth.
The dragon finally releases them, and Bart rolls off more leisurely than he should given the situation, but it admittedly hadn’t even been much of a brawl and despite being bony, the kid wasn’t the least comfortable thing Bart had ever lounged on.
Finally he gets an answer, and it’s so easy and painfully bland that he wants to punch Talyson all over again just for having caused such a snaffu over a goddamn errand. “Well damn that’s easy, shit grows like wildfire here. But ya gotta look on the trees, it’s like old man’s beard - ain’t gonna be on the ground as often.” Getting up with a grunt he moseys over to the nearest tree without another word, beginning to rip off portions of the moss until he has a thick bundle. Returning with it, he holds it out to Talyson in what would look like a peace offering if it wasn’t for the eternal jut of his chin. “This enough?”
They say I need therapy 'Cause I've got no symmetry but maybe I just don't fit in
Tal's scowl tried to deepen but couldn't go any further. He wasn't about to admit that he'd only started getting out of Halo a few seasons ago, and before that he'd spent most of his time in Halo avoiding humans outside of his delivery routes.
And maybe the guy had a point. But Tal wasn't about to admit that, either.
Especially when he took his time getting the fuck off. Tal was quick to roll onto his feet and dust himself off, sending equal glowers between Bart and Boreal - who looked insufferably pleased with herself as she stretched long and slow and then gave a pointed yawn at his pique.
"...Oh." Tal's voice was unexpectedly quiet as he realized that there had been moss right around him the whole time; he'd just been looking in the wrong place. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked around while the other man pulled some off and brought it back. Staring down at the chilly bundle the courier sighed and reached out to gather it close. " 's Boreal," he mumbled, nodding towards the dragon who was sniffing interestedly at a rabbit hole. "I'm Tal."
It’s satisfying to have knocked the younger man onto the back foot, even if it was by being nice. Almost worth being nice at all. It’s as close to an apology as Talyson is likely to get, because Bart doesn’t really regret his actions, even taking the misunderstanding into consideration.
As the courier takes the snow moss from Bart’s now chilled hands, the older man smirks slightly as names are finally given. Boreal’s had been easy enough to learn since Talyson had yelled and pleaded it at various intervals, but he can read the begrudging olive branch in the offering of the man’s own name. “Bartholomew,” he offers in return, hands shoving habitually into the deep pockets of his leather jacket. “Anyway, now I know y’ain’t some too-skinny assassin or somethin’, I better go harass some other poor bastard. I got faith Boreal can guide you back outta here.” Faith he doesn’t necessarily have in Tal given the man’s stubbornness, but eyes in the sky sort of made getting lost impossible.
Saluting lazily, he begins to walk backwards. “Pleasure to beat ya, Tal. Let’s not do it next time, yeah?” Snickering at his own wordplay, he spins on his heel and saunters off into the woods.
- Bart Out!
They say I need therapy 'Cause I've got no symmetry but maybe I just don't fit in
08-19-2022, 02:50 AM (This post was last modified: 08-19-2022, 02:51 AM by Talyson.)
"B--" Tal's nose had wrinkled and he'd opened his mouth to say the first thing that came to mind when Boreal ambled 'accidentally' over his foot. "Ouch!" Clutching the snow moss close, he gave the dragon a wounded look.
Which turned into a pointed eye-roll at being called 'too-skinny,' but he wasn't about to pick another fight with Boreal playing referee. He'd started to stuff the moss into his Bag of Holding when the Grounder gave his parting shot and the courier shot him a scowl followed by a scoff. "In your dreams, Bart," he called back.
"As if there'll ever be a next time," he grumbled to Boreal, who was chewing idly at a strip of peppermint bark. She gave him an innocent wag of her scaly tail and he huffed again, more quietly, but with a little grin beneath the pique.
