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!
The forest stuck out in its enigmatic nature against the rest of Halo’s landscape; leaving him naturally inclined to want to inspect it. Habitually curious through all the faults and flaws, and always with some purpose in mind, the Sword had dragged his companions, sled, and Evie out into the midst of its metallic bark and dark eaves, figuring they could snag some fallen logs and bring them back to the Citadel – place the wood amidst the stored portions for the rest of the inhabitants.
Narrowing his eyes at the treeline again, he shrugged his shoulders, watching as Zuriel picked at a few frosty blades of grass, as Belial poked at something hidden down a hole, before his eyes pinpointed solely on Evie. “Would you like to hear the latest news?” A wrinkle of his nose, a boyish gleam in his piercing gaze, they flickered away and back onto a nearby, broken trunk, rolling a portion of its existence onto its side for further perusal and study.
12-02-2022, 12:45 AM (This post was last modified: 12-09-2022, 07:38 PM by Evie.)
Evie
The new lands that had become accessible after the war are more familiar to her now after a year, but the humming, singing woods remain breathtaking in their oddity. They haven’t had time to truly explore the area, and Evie would never decline an invitation from Deimos to spend the day alone, so it works out quite well.
Eyeing Belial’s rear end as he sticks his head down a hole, contemplating mischief, the Evergreen is torn from her plotting by her partner’s voice as it summons her gaze to his own. Intrigue immediately arches copper brows, light blue eyes brightening at the notion of news - the word Deimos often used for gossip when utilizing such a tone. “Absolutely I do! Do you even need to ask?” Cheerily she picks her way through the undergrowth to be closer to his side, wondering what manner of news this might entail. She certainly hadn’t missed Cordelia’s birth, Talyson and Sah were still in one piece, and Hotaru’s news was far too heartbreaking these days for compelling conversation. What did that even leave within Halo?
the difference between a garden and a graveyard is what we choose to put in the soil
The excitement and enticement lured enough to make him chuckle, a deep rumble resounding over the thickened wood. Crouching down along the timber, checking to see if it’d already become rotten and decayed from time spent amongst moisture, his head tilted upward, watching her steadily from his piercing onslaught. “Where to start…,” probably with something that vaguely irritated him – but perhaps only through thoroughly ingrained pettiness. “Sunjata sent me a letter asking if he could come post a notice about an upcoming masquerade.” The Sword resisted the temptation to make a mulish expression, but it was there, lurking amidst reticence and mischief. “I only allowed it because of Frey’s involvement.” And even if it was the aspect and side neither of them dealt with, he wasn’t inclined to anger any of the Old Gods simply because he couldn’t stand the Flood.
Breaking off a piece of bark, he continued to search for any signs of decomposition, shrugging off the next round of contemplations because it might’ve deeply affected Evie by way of birthplaces. He wouldn’t leave her in the dark about the way the Hollowed section had altered, and continued to do so, eyes swiveling back to watch and gauge her reaction. “Darkeye came to see me too. Seems there is still no leadership in the Grounds yet.”
12-05-2022, 11:31 PM (This post was last modified: 12-09-2022, 07:38 PM by Evie.)
Evie
Sunjata is a name she has heard plentifully - often in grumbled tones from Deimos himself - but the Evergreen has admittedly never met the man independently. Normally she would be hesitant to let anyone’s views, even her lover’s, color her outlook on a stranger but Sunjata’s horrific luck and bad decisions are nigh legendary by now. So her nose wrinkles the tiniest bit empathetically; off to a bad start with the news it seems. Except it turns on its head swiftly, and intrigue lights up her eyes. “Frey is planning it? That sounds delightful. Though…I guess it depends on which version, now I think about it.” Pink kisses at the apples of her cheeks at the notion of a more adult event. Evie would likely politely decline that one, much as she has come to love Frey’s nature side. The only man she cares to be intimate with is already at her side.
Deimos had told her of the Grounds’ fate early on after the war had concluded. It had admittedly broken her heart in ways she hadn’t expected after so long committed to Halo as her home. To hear it is still leaderless and relatively barren has her frowning quietly, toeing at the strange color of a plant that has grown through the crack of a downed trunk. “Hardly anyone left there to lead I imagine.” There’s a pain in her voice she can’t bleed out, but there’s no reason to hide it from Deimos anyway. “Does he need some kind of assistance?”
the difference between a garden and a graveyard is what we choose to put in the soil
His shoulders angled in a particular nonchalant maneuver, a quick and rapid release of tension spanning through the muscles at the first topic, readily eager to set it aside permanently and quickly. “Given Sunjata’s preference…,” The wrinkle along his nose said enough. He’d never gone to any of Bastien or Rexanna’s festivities, nor anything remotely that aspect of Frey related.
Dragging his attention away from the temptation to poke the trunk with a nearby stick, the juncture of his gaze remained on Evie, watching, waiting, gauging the weight of sentiments and reactions. His jaw clenched slightly, for all the magnitudes and collision courses the Grounds had met, and deigned to face again, in one way or another. “I may have insinuated he should take leadership,” for better or for worse – but at least the man always seemed eager, fervent, and determined to support that sovereignty and community.
“Depends on if he gains the title or not, but he did ask for help.” Reaching into his bag, he snagged at the folded map, handing it over to her; alterations and designs anew, islands shifted, fertile lands unfurled, and then pieces of the old – settlements still remaining, vigilant and steadfast as ever. “He gave that to me, but I thought you might want it.”
Oh, right. Sometimes it can be hard to know which aspect of Frey someone follows; if you aren't open with it, it can be anyone's guess. But the idea of a party thrown by sex Frey, while a delightfully indecent idea to a younger Evie, is not something she finds herself drawn to now. "I think that's a party I'm happy to miss," she admits, though her eyes dart around a little, as if Frey could somehow hear her saying it. She grins a little bashfully when she catches herself doing it. Some things never change, and being raised with worship for the Heralds being drilled into her head as the only source of being saved, even the smallest comments can feel blasphemous. It's easier now she has met Frey once, and yet all the harder because Frey was the only herald to treat her kindly.
The idea of Darkeye leading is...
Well.
It tastes like ash in her mouth.
She has no qualms with the man, even found his presence to be kindly and respectful, and she had heard of all the things he'd been trying to do to improve the Grounds even before the war. Still, to know there are no Natural Grounders left to lead her birthland...
"He would do well by it," she admits, though her voice is as stiff as her spine as she straightens and turns to look out at the standing trees instead of the felled one at their feet. "What sort of help? Does he have ideas in mind already or -?" as she turns she's greeted with the map in Deimos' hands, and Evie softens immediately, the rigidity of her complex emotions melting away in the face of such a gesture. Her hands take it gingerly, unfolding it immediately to look over the detailed piece. "Thank you," comes softly as her thumb traces the outer line of the outer islands. "It has changed so much." And she has not even returned to see it. It is a guilty weight that settles in her stomach at that realization; but Halo is her home now, and has been for a long time. She couldn't leave it at the end of the war, and she scarcely feels she can leave it now, even for a trip.
the difference between a garden and a graveyard is what we choose to put in the soil
“We will see,” was the only response he’d garner towards any Sunjata and sex-Frey affiliated shindig; hopeful, perhaps, that it wasn’t going to be what their imaginations were conjuring. He shrugged thereafter, tugging at pieces of twig, branches, and bramble, content to watch them flicker apart at his strength while Evie mulled over things in silence.
The Sword, and the Reaper, would probably have been much the same in her stead. Irritated that another would be taking the helm, uncertain about the future of a world left behind, nostalgic and melancholy for things that couldn’t be again. And though he’d never done so with the Basin, dying in its keep and bones left in its departed caverns, scores of them had still embarked away from the Grounds. Striving to return it back to some civilization where people would yearn to stay would be a trial in itself.
His eyes flickered back to her, watching as she toiled along the considerations. Jaw clenching slightly, the piercing depth of his gaze gave her some space as they rounded back to the forest floor and the bits of snow clustered along boots. “He has plenty of ideas. Skyports. Farming. Transportation around the islands. Just might not have the people for it.” Where Halo had thrived under its citizens, the Ascended had left the hollowed sanctions to falter.
Then there was the map to consider, and he nodded his head as he chucked a portion of dried sticks, for future kindling, into the sled. “We can go there again, if you want.” A brief visit; perhaps in taking up Darkeye’s cry for assistance.
It is a further relief to hear that Darkeye's dreams are not militaristic in nature. Advancements for the earth itself, for the people that remain against all odds. Not unlike their own goals after a year of rebuilding, reshaping. The Grounders deserve better, and Evie will always mourn that she could not give it to them in her own time. Darkeye is perhaps not the perfect leader in her eyes, but he is good-hearted. So long as he can keep that, perhaps the Grounds will be in better hands than they have been in a very, very long time.
"Better ideas for the Grounds than I've heard in a very long time," she compliments readily. Only the people will decide if Darkeye ascends to leadership among them, her judgment one way or the other doesn't truly matter.
Tucking the map tenderly into the inner breast pocket of her parka, Evie smiles as she zips it back up. "It would be nice to visit, but...I don't think I need to. It's not home anymore, it wasn't for a long time. I'm not sure if it would do anything but make me melancholy to see it so changed." As changed as she now is.
the difference between a garden and a graveyard is what we choose to put in the soil
He couldn’t help the snort drifting through his lungs and chest at the statement – considering what the Ascended had done in their intervals there. It was difficult to not be bitter and rancorous about it, even after years since living in its midst. Tossing a chunk of wood to follow its brethren into the sled, he waited for her decision about visiting – the notions too haunting for the moment. He glanced her way, to watch, study, scrutinize, pondering over anything else hidden and lurking, nodding just the same. “All right.”
The Sword took another few moments where only the sounds of the timber hitting the side of the vessel echoed, before imparting the slightest, lightest, of grins. “Safrin visited her followers in a dream the other night.” There’d been quite of few of them too – with Deimos recognizing most, though not the mer. “Healed us,” and here he pulled back portions of his furs and coat, to reveal the Core’s circuitry gone, with only a few constellation-like freckles in its place along neck and shoulder. “Told us about another god too. Have you heard of the Ancients? Or Dygra?"
She loves him all the more for his easy acceptance. Whatever else may lie within her at the idea of visiting - or not visiting - the Grounds, Deimos doesn't pry or over-examine. Evie takes to picking up tinder and logs alongside him as he lulls into a moment of silence, a comfortable one. Of course he hides the best news from her, cloaked and preceded by less intriguing things, and her playful exasperation is visible as she turns with clear intrigue.
Evie's blue eyes immediately widen as he pulls his furs aside to reveal smooth, unblemished skin. Well, there are freckles there she knows did not exist before (she has kissed every inch of that skin after all) but it is free of even scars or discoloration. "Gods," she breathes, for lack of anything else to say but a pious declaration that springs to her tongue as she advances across the snow, removing her glove to touch his bare skin with her own, fingertips tracing gently over smooth flesh. Hand lingering, her brow furrows slightly at his question. "No, though there's been some murmurings about a new race. That's all I've heard so far." Her eyes rise to Deimos', a silent question lingering there. Clearly he knows more than she does, and she knows he will share it with her in time.
the difference between a garden and a graveyard is what we choose to put in the soil
Deimos waited for the shock, muffling some round of laughter before her warm touch was on his skin, permitting her access to explore once more, as his eyes went upward, striving to not be distracted or deterred from processing the information. A quiet rumble began in his throat, contemplating, going over the goddess’s words carefully, methodically. “Safrin said they were like distant ancestors. Though Halo would prove inhospitable to them.” Not a repeat of the Ascended, at least for now, where it was scorned enemy after scorned enemy; but a resurgence, a renewal, perhaps. He could only shrug his shoulders, the uncertainty there – laden as much as the future could hold.
“They seem to prefer the Climb. Kiada altered into one.” And if it had meant her survival, Deimos would accept it, as he always had. “Have horns. Can shift.” Unaware of all the limitations, save for the lack of Attuned connections or any other particulars, he could only grant as much as wisdom as he’d been given.
She truly tries not to linger long, aware her fingers and his chest alike would only remain warm for so long when exposed to the late fall chill. Still they linger, overcome with gratitude for the star Goddess, for the luck they’ve had amidst such terrible circumstances. The rumble of his voice beneath her fingers is what prompts her to retrieve them, albeit reluctantly. Putting her glove back on, she frowns slightly at the knowledge that Halo is for some reason inaccessible to this new race. “She sounds approving of them, then? Should we be investigating a way to allow them to visit?” Perhaps not immediately, but something to table for the future.
Kiada’s survival and adaptation she can assume is a great weight off his shoulders. Evie silently mourns that the same could not have been assured for the Ascended who gave their lives for their cause, misguided as it was in her eyes. For a moment she wishes Sam could have achieved the same; life, true life, no matter what the costs. It’s a bittersweet thought. “I didn’t think we could all continue to be so lucky, but Gods, I’m glad some of the Ascended were able to change. To keep living.” Even if the losses still greatly outnumbered the survivors. Evie is incredibly grateful that Kiada, so beloved by her partner, was one of them.
the difference between a garden and a graveyard is what we choose to put in the soil
He would’ve endured the cold for as long as she required, brow arched and smirk held aloft, only shifting his furs and coat back in place when her fingers ambled back into gloves. The questions gave him pause though, because it was difficult to remove the senses of apprehension, the incoming dread, of the unknown. A year without war was just that; but violence, vigilance, and vehemence had been built into his bones, his mind, his soul, for so long, that he found it difficult to draw the taut edges away from his spine, to contort into other angles. “She did not seem disapproving.” He shrugged his shoulders, trying to alleviate the junctures of layers creeping along his ribcage, but finding them remaining, solid and tangible in their own rights. “But I am not sure.” Too fresh, too new, too ignorant of what they were or what it meant. Had Kiada not been involved, he may not have bothered at all. “I hesitate to take away a natural defense,” for by and large, Halo kept many at bay by the cold alone.
Maybe the hot springs would be enough of a lure. Maybe time would tell. “We can wait and see. Get more information,” was a distinct rumble, but he’d let her mull it over as well. If they were truly leagues of innocence and merely another amongst them, it would eventually become a non-issue.
The Evergreen’s statements, though not voiced aloud about Sam, caused his jaw to clench. An apology for a sibling gone nearly nestled on the tip of his tongue, but he knew better. There were no easy answers, and he felt all the hazier and more ambivalent about the situations. Eventually, instead of warring away in silence, he chucked another portion of timber within, pondering about the nature and value of luck, fortune, these days. “Hopefully there are more.”
Inclining her head in agreement, pleased that despite being the true follower of Safrin he seems reluctant to make any rash decisions regardless of her insight, Evie pencils it away in her head and lets it lie. "We have time. And, like the Ascended, I'm sure we'll need to take each person into account." Or so she hopes, tentatively optimistic that Dygra will not be a divisive force in the way The Voice had been.
She doesn't want to end the day bittersweet and mourning. So many days interspersed throughout the year have been spent already on such things. So, as Deimos throws more wood into the wagon, Evie smoothly bends over as if to grab a limb herself, only to scoop up snow and thrust it down the opening of his collar. In a flash she's off, sprinting over the snow, red hair flying like an enticing ribbon behind her, underscoring her trailing laughter. He can choose to abandon his task to seek revenge or be pelted from a distance if he chooses to be stubborn, and Evie is feeling good about her chances of harassing him into a moment of stupidity. They deserve it, after all.
- Fin <3
the difference between a garden and a graveyard is what we choose to put in the soil
