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!
Farrow was bent over her table, a tiny working space cleared in the middle of an array of jars and tins all bursting with herbs and plants, dried and fresh. She was working a few ingredients together for a batch of rosehip tea, made with a handful of rose hips she had brought with her from her mother's garden. It had been a while since she had moved and she was feeling a bit lonely and homesick, as ironic as it might be, and she has woken with a craving for it.
She had left the door open, allowing a bit of the cold breeze to make its way in, and between the banked fire and her work, the house maintained a pleasing temperature.
The heat of the sun tickled the top of Aster's head as he fluttered through the branches of trees. Shadows, figments of his memory, chased after him as he sped over and around curled branches and tree-trunks, imagining that his siblings were playing a grand game of tag with him.
Upon spotting a homey little cottage with its door open, he alighted upon a funky looking vine and scooted up it sideways, testing his little Green Hermit Hummingbird claws. He dismissed the floating shadows about him. Maybe there was someone real he could interact with!
He dared himself to float on over, hovering just beneath the doorframe of the open door, his beak opening and closing to taste the faint burning of the fire.
The woman hunched over by her table came into his focus, her image of splitting beauty, her demeanor like that of fallen grace. He noticed loneliness whenever he stumbled upon it, and so he dared move in closer.
Tracing the outline of the windowsill, Aster floated as deftly as a soap sud, and alighted upon a nearby shelf, resting upon the twiglike appendage of a potted plant. Just within the scope of this woman's peripheral view, should she look up from her rosehip tea.
A quiet snapping is what gained Farrow's attention, and she glanced up at the Preying Orchid she had found half dead in the winter snow behind her home and nursed back to full health. It was always happy to eat now, and snapped at her whenever it felt peckish.
The sight of her orchid trying to bend itself out of shape to snap up a delightful little hummingbird, however, sent tremors of panic coursing through her veins and she set into clumsy action. She leapt towards the little table, eyes wide and full of panic now, banging her shin on the table leg in her haste. She scooped the little bird up in soft palms with a harsh word towards the orchid as though it could understand her.
"Hello little one," she said to the gorgeous hummingbird in her hands as she brought him away from imminent danger "Be mindful you don't find yourself too close to those, they bite," Farrow offered an apologetic smile. The hummingbird may have decided to sit near her plant, but the flower was hers, and she felt responsible for it. And now, looking between the green veined petals of her orchid to the vibrant, iridescent feathers of the bird in her hands she giggled, "But you are a perfect match aren't you?" Farrow let the bird hop from her hands to the table before bending to dig in a ring icebox she had hidden under the table. She pulled out a frozen earth worm, cut it into six equal pieces and offered one to each fully grown blossom.
As Aster sat, this woman's soft yet sharp beauty entranced his little hummingheart, so much so that his heart lurched when she rushed toward him with a quick motion. He was so stricken by the gracefulness (or lackthereof when she bumped her shin) that he forget he had wings and could fly away.
Stupor tinged his iridescent, green feathers when her two hands swooped in to scoop him up. Chemicals of support, love, closeness, and memories of warm happy days with his family barraged him all at once when her delicate hands graced his vulnerable, bird-underside.
If he had felt any ounce of malice he would have zipped away from her grasp immediately, squirming if required to get away, but all he received was concern and warmth. Oozing warmth.
>"Hello little one," she said to the gorgeous hummingbird in her hands as she brought him away from imminent danger. "Be mindful you don't find yourself too close to those, they bite,"
Aster was almost stricken to rest in her hands just in the brief moment she held him, his hummingbird metabolism processing every bit of physical touch as grandly as the slightest gust of wind.
> "But you are a perfect match aren't you?"
He flapped in disapproval the moment he set her down.
Though she busied her hands with the undoings of an earth worm, he rushed to alight himself onto one of her delicate wrists. Even leaping at the chance to help feed a portion of a chopped up worm to the Preying Orchid, just so she could have her hands free to hold him. Again.
Pushing up from the ground before you is a blood-red rose.
You’ve encountered one of Vi’s Roses.. This counts as a rare creature encounter for the purposes of levelling, but does not count as a Random Event for levelling or MP. There will be no further admin/re intervention. You can post a link to this thread in the character updates thread if you pick the rose, to have it added to your inventory.
Vi's Roses (rare): A beautiful crimson flower with thorns of deep gold, it is rumoured that these roses are coloured with Vi's lifeblood. When planted, they have the ability to cleanse the area around them.
"Okay, okay!" Farrow laughed as the hummingbird danced over her wrists and hands as she fed her hungry plant, now cupping her palms so her could lay there snuggly. "Now, where did you come from, little friend?" Farrow stepped just past her open door, peering into the tree tops like she might find some sign of more hummingbirds flittering about, though it stoll seemed a bit cold for them to be so active.
It was then that a glimmer of deep red and gold caught her eye as a small bush of blood red roses seems to grow inexplicably next to her small stoop. Farrow had heard stories of Vi's Roses, but had never seen one, had never expected to see one with their rarity. They were indeed beautiful flowers, full, velvety red petals supported by strong green stems, and protected by cruel looking golden Thorns. Farrow giggled in delight and grabbed her scarf which was hung just inside her door. She slung it around her neck, building a small sling in which her new hummingbird friend could sit in relative comfort as she worked.
Grabbing a pot, a large one she had purchased upon her arrival in the village, she filled the bottom with various stones as drainage before filling the rest with the upturned soil in her garden. There was quite a bit, and most would be returned once she transplanted the roses when the ground warmed a bit more.
She took her time digging the rose bush from the ground, careful to avoid nicking even the smallest root, afraid any mistep might hurt the rare beauty. It took her a while, but she chatted at her hummingbird companion, explaining each step as she shook large clumps of frozen dirt off of the roots and gingerly tucked them into the dark, loose soil and bringing her new plant friend into her home.
"Well," Farrow smiled as the hummingbird bird flew out of her makeshift sling to fly about her head "The world is just full of surprises today, isn't it?"
02-02-2023, 12:47 AM (This post was last modified: 02-02-2023, 12:48 AM by Aster.)
will you even notice
The moment her hands were free and she opened them, a cup-like throne for him to nestle in, he bolted into them. It was then, that the cold of the air, the coolness of DeepFrost outside became re-evident to him. Yes, his resilience was the greatest of his twelve siblings, however cold still harassed his hummingframe like a squirt of water on an open flame. The two did not mix.
He could feel her footsteps as she glided through the room and to the window, seemingly curious about a phenomenon outside. Her delightful giggle sent a rush of joy through his hollow bones, and his eyes perked up to see what was the matter. Soon a newfangled vine, thick and soft, wrapped itself around her neck, to which he was immediately drawn.
The velvety nest hung like a sling and he dove into the darkness of its folds, letting loose happy chirps. The sound of her voice muffled through the fabric, and though she began to work steadily on the rose bush, Aster allowed himself to doze. The tiresome nature of his earlier flight through the woods, as he sought a shelter, soon caught up to him.
He awoke many minutes later to her placing the plant into a new pot, and with the windchill kept outside the front door, he now sped out the sling to dive his hummingbeak into the folds of the crimson roses. The roses had a scent and a lusciousness to him that spoke of mystery, a deep connection to the wellspring of life. These were no ordinary roses, that's for sure.
>"Well," Farrow smiled as the hummingbird bird flew out of her makeshift sling to fly about her head "The world is just full of surprises today, isn't it?"
Distracted by their novelty, he alighted upon one of the rosebushe's branches and pricked his side with a golden thorn. The shock of the injury caused him to flap furiously as he toppled over onto the table, murmuring weak cries.
He was marked underneath his left side, though no blood was spilled, he might have sustained a small bruise. At times like this, he would normally revert back to his human form to check for any sustained damage, but he feared to knock over the beautiful rose bush and so, looked up pleadingly to the woman for aid.
"Oh, you poor thing," Farrow frowned deeply as the little bird cried out, ushering him into her hand. "Getting in all sorts of trouble today, hm?" Farrow used her free hand to move her forgotten tea mix aside and throw an old work apron over the hard wooden surface onto which she deposited her charge. She smiled at him before turning around, peering at the shelf on the wall stuffed to bursting with more herbal tins.
"I think I have come calendula oil somwhere," she murmured to herself as she fingered deftly through the mess. She was hoping she could soon find or build a larger home where she could organize her stock better, but needs must and she could make do.
Indeed, Farrow discovered a small dropper filled halfway with a light honey colored oil. "Perfect!" she cried happily, snatching the dropper up and turning to sit in front of her patient who had, somehow, mussed her apron to make a cozy little nest for himself. She grinned at the smart little thing, impressed by his bravery, hummingbirds were known to be quite flighty after all.
"May I?" Farrow asked with a small gesture to the oil.
02-02-2023, 02:12 AM (This post was last modified: 02-02-2023, 02:12 AM by Aster.)
will you even notice
>"Oh, you poor thing," Farrow frowned deeply as the little bird cried out, ushering him into her hand. "Getting in all sorts of trouble today, hm?"
Once Aster found himself held again, it was as if the wound had disappeared. The soothing warmth of her hand was enough to assuage the pain to the point of him almost grateful for the wound since it brought him such instant comfort. As soon as she gave it to him, though, she took the warmth away and placed him on a less welcoming surface than the fluffy vine around her neck earlier. How he wished to flap into that vine again, though he was curious as to what she would do next.
>"I think I have come calendula oil somewhere." As she took her attention away from him, he decided to dramatize his condition as much as he could, indulging in this readily accessible motherly-like affection.
He shuffled the apron fabric in such a way, using his head and feet to nudge the cloth into a circle surrounding him. The pain in his side barely throbbing at this point. He then positioned himself, open wing, ready to receive whatever treatment she was to provide.
>"Perfect!" She came close to him, and procured a small bottle of honey-like liquid. Nectar? But in a see-through vessel instead of a flower?
Suddenly, hunger and the craving of one shown an enticing meal rumbled in his hummingbelly.
>"May I?" Farrow asked with a small gesture to the oil.
He sat straight up, abandoning his wounded-pose, and chirped up to the dropper, his beak attaching to the calendula oil that dripped all the way down his curved beak. The assault of bitter when he expected sweet, was enough to throw him into a sprawling tantrum.
He hacked and spat, flapping his wings against his face but he couldn't get the bitter taste out of his mouth. He rubbed his beak against the fabric of the apron, but the oil clung so well and it began to spread on his feathers.
As if he had hands, he tried again to curve his wings against his beak to get the oil off. Before he knew it, the idea of having hands caused him to grow. What was once a creature the size of a hand-grenade grew into a ballistic missile in front of the female's eyes. He shed his feathers to reveal silk-robed appendages, as he grew into a cross-legged twenty-year old with blonde hair and cerulean eyes still shut tight in response to the bitterness. The clothes he wore were thin yet durable, a dark forest with interwoven emerald hues akin to his bird form.
"Bitter! Bitter." He grabbed the apron that was now crumpled under him, and rubbed his tongue against the fabric, which itself did not taste any better. He would eventually open his eyes, once the taste was bearable enough.
Farrow was not expecting the small thing to leap and try and drink the oil from her dropper, and the little thing moved with such vivacity she was unable to pull it away before he had taken a large beakful. "Oh!" Farrow gasped as she reset the dropper and turned to find some water for the now very distressed bird on her table. She kept a small jug of it next to her sleeping mat and she snatched it turning again to find, not a beautiful green hummingbird sitting in her apron, but a full grown man.
Farrow, shrieked in surprise, and nearly dropped her jug of water, only recovering as the man began to rub his tongue over her apron, probably only worsening the taste in his mouth. She gardened in that thing, honestly.
[say,]" Oh, ah, okay, uhm, here!" Farrow said, thrusting a nearly overful cup of water towards the stranger.
02-02-2023, 02:48 AM (This post was last modified: 02-02-2023, 02:48 AM by Aster.)
will you even notice
The taste of dirt, grime, and whatever else stained the apron mixed with the bitter and Aster began to hack. The intensity of things unsweet in his mouth sent a disturbed shiver down his spine.
>" Oh, ah, okay, uhm, here!" He looked up to the voice that he remembered was full of sweetness, now full of alarm. Aster lowered his shoulders, and reached out as politely as he could.
The cup of water shivered in his wobbly grip, and he leaned down to put his lips into the cup. He wasn't quite sure how to drink from it without his beak, but the cup was full enough for him to get enough to sip.
The cool water reminded him of the pools of water he and his siblings would splash in to wash themselves clean, and remembering he had gotten some oil on his feathers, he leaned his face back and poured the rest of the cup onto his face.
The cool water dripped down his hair, his neck and splattered over the woman's table.
"Thanks." Aster said as he wiped his features with his silken sleeves. Though the bitter taste lingered in his mouth, it was bearable enough for him to open his eyes and examine the new expressions on her face.
There was a man sitting on her table. A soaking. Wet. Man. Even watching him drink out of her brown earthenware cup as though he still had a beak couldn't break Farrow from her stupor.
Farrow was sheltered, and inexperienced in many ways but she was not dumb. She knew about the attuned, and had already figured that the sweet little bird she had been tending to and this strange, silk clad man were one in the same but she only knew that now, she hadn't known when she had tucked him into her scarf...
Farrow felt herself blush, the red-heat blooming first in her cheeks and flushing down over her shoulder and up her ears. She had a hummingbird man in her scarf! And now he's sitting here cross-legged on her table wet and in a very thin green silk robe.
>"Thanks," the man said, now looking at her, and his voice fit him perfectly; a smooth timbre, light and carefree, though he still looked a bit perturbed but the bitter taste that was probably still coating his mouth.
He looked so out of place there, all graceful curves and elegant posture, clothed (presumably) in just that bright green robe. Among her clumsily organized cottage doused mostly in dull browns, he seemed a rare jewel tossed into a pile of rocks.
"You're a person." For the love of Caido pull yourself together Farrow! "I-I mean I know you are a person, I mean you're right there how could I not know you're a person but I didn't know it 'til now" Yep, Farrow just keep rambling it's always worked before!
The perplexed expression on her guest's face shut Farrow right up and, with a glance to the left and right, she spied her unfinished tea mix still in her bowl. "I mean, do you want some tea?"
Aster watched her face turn red an expression unfamiliar to him. Yet, as soon as the bitterness softened on his tongue, he realized his criss-cross seating on the table and the now wetness of his clothes was an uncomfortable feeling.
He got off the table, wobbled a little in his gait, and patted the wet spots on his onesie-like outfit with his hands. The water wasn't flowing off it like it would his feathers. He grabbed the apron and started patting himself down, but even then it wasn't working. The wet portions on his upper torso pressed the silk against his supple features, strong arms and back due to constant flapping in his Hummingform.
>>"You're a person." She spoke with surprise. "I-I mean I know you are a person, I mean you're right there how could I not know you're a person but I didn't know it 'til now"
"No. I'm a Hummer. I just turn into a person sometimes." Aster stretched his jaw and felt the hoarseness in his throat. He looked appalled to be speaking so fluently. He wasn't used to doing anything other than sleep in his human form, and the last time he tried to do anything other was an utter disaster.
The fact that the cold had less effect on him in this form also felt so much cozier than having to snuggle as a Hummingbird.
>>"I mean, do you want some tea?"
"What's tea?" Aster asked, taking care not to make sudden movements, since it still felt weird being all wet. He stared at her, still holding her apron, then realized it must have been something he could wear like her fuzzy vine. He wrapped it around his neck like she had, though it still wasn't as comfortable.
Farrow chuckled as the man before her wound her apron across his neck, and then began to feel absolutely mortified that she was allowing the poor thing to stand wet in her home.
"Oh, uhm, do you want to change clothes? I don't know if I have anything that will fit but I can look!" Farrow began pulling clothes out of a basket at the other side of the fireplace, skirts and leggins spilling onto the floor until she found a large white tunic and held it before her with a happy, victorious sound.
"This should work," she held the garment up to him, keeping a good space between them. Other looked like it would fit nearly perfectly. Farrow congratulated herself for enjoying loose clothing. She tried to offer a reassuring smile to the man who was still staring perplexed.
