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!
yes, yes, I am wild I am the wind that makes breathing hard
Nosey and with a penchant for wandering was all the excuse Melita needed to meander from the skyport, and village, and into the brink of the Greatwood. It’d been a long time since she’d advanced her way through the woven layers of trees, canopies, boughs, and branches, and the alteration in years showed – her mouth a widening gape of curiosity, expression, and bewilderment.
“Wow, what are those?” She dashed towards a pool near one of the looming timber, but Fangorn seemed unnerved by it entirely, so the youth could only breeze by. “Fiiiine,” she uttered, but not before closing in on some portions of the world that were still familiar to her – peppermint bark.
Prying it off of one of the nearby trees, she munched for a moment, before handing some little pieces to Sila and Fangorn respectively, skipping along further, continuing to eye the water nearby.
I am the ocean and the battered shore I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
The Eyes of Vi were truly a strange place, but then, Alys was truly a strange woman. She'd wandered south from Halo on a whim, needing a break from the frigid air that seemed a permanent fixture in the icy region, even during Flowerbirth. It was far too much cold, if you asked Alys - although her shopping trip with Hotaru had helped considerably, and her acceptance into the Arcane Academy had made withstanding the cold worthwhile.
Today, though, was a break from all that, and Alys had wondered to the Eyes of Vi with her heart lighter than it had been in months. Happiness was something that the young woman felt only rarely, and yet it seemed that the universe had deigned to grace her with it recently in spades. It made for a good mood, and Alys even hummed a bit to herself as she meandered through the pools, eyeing this vista and that through the strange waters.
She wasn't sure how long she'd been there when a voice caught her attention, and she paused in her wandering to glance over her shoulder. Nearby, a woman about her age skipped through the pools, accompanied by a dragon and a thing that looked remarkably like a gourd. Alys had hardly enough time to consider that when she realized that, in all likelihood, she was about to be caught staring, and that it would probably lead to some kind of awkward interaction.
yes, yes, I am wild I am the wind that makes breathing hard
They skipped along for a while, before halting at another source of peppermint bark, though the youth noted it was much smaller, crouching and kneeling along its ramparts. It seemed to be a bit blocked by the rest of the limbs and trees surrounding it, and had there not been a distraction, she probably would’ve persisted in ensuring it had some assistance. Even if Melita was oblivious (sometimes), her small hoard of companions ensured other things didn’t go unnoticed.
Like a stranger staring at them.
For a moment, all three of them went stock still. Fangorn and his vines drooped. Sila sauntered behind the Honeybee’s vast curtain of long, crimson locks. Melita pondered over the range of weapons within her bag and along her bracelet, wondering if there would be a need to unfurl and rampage.
Instead, perhaps in some manner of growth, she rose back from her crouch, and didn’t immediately launch into an explosive, prickly tirade. Maintaining her distance, her eyes narrowed in speculation, and maybe a mode of danger; emboldened caution. “Hello,” she prompted, instead of offering a provocation (got a problem? had stuttered across her tongue more than once).
I am the ocean and the battered shore I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
Fortunately, the moment was less awkward than Alys had expected.
That's not to say that it was entirely lacking in discomfort. Alys shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, clenching her hands in her skirts as she was caught staring. To her surprise and relief, however, the stranger uttered only a simple hello, though her body language implied a certain level of wariness. Alys was not a threat, but the stranger couldn't possibly know that; it almost felt good, to have someone worry whether she was a force to be reckoned with.
Perhaps, one day, she would even have the skill to back that up.
In the meantime, however, the stranger had given Alys little cause for alarm, and so she offered her own gruff greeting. "Hello." She glanced between the woman, the dragon, and the gourd, her gaze lingering just slightly on the latter. "What is that?" she asked in a tone of vague curiosity. There was no malice to the question. It was just such a strange creature that she couldn't help but ask.
yes, yes, I am wild I am the wind that makes breathing hard
Gauging threats had unfortunately come with the territory of losing her family at a young age; to the point where she was almost always ready and eager for a fight. Threats, bedlams, chaos, and mayhem was a song in her veins, which sometimes ended disastrously or monstrously in her favor. If anything, perhaps, more people should’ve feared her; for all the emboldened, audacious, and tumultuous properties. Or they learned soon enough, given the opportunity.
Finding no reason to snarl, except some excuse she was bound to make up on a capricious and mercurial whim, the youth turned her attention back to the little tree. The intonations and inquiry thereafter though, left her wondering if poor Fangorn was going to be the subject matter of hostility (again), and she set her jaw in some manner of defiance. “A vampire gourd.”
I am the ocean and the battered shore I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
Alys wasn't the most socially aware person, but even she knew how to tell when she'd fucked up. Melita responded defensively, prompting a look of mingled surprise and guilt from the young woman. She truly hadn't meant anything by her question; she was simply curious, and had been painfully unaware of how rude her question might have been. Even now, she wasn't exactly sure how she had offended the other woman, just that she had.
"Oh," she said. "If it's a vampire, does it drink blood?" This possibility really did pique Alys's interest; she had a penchant for all things dark and macabre, and the idea of a blood-sucking gourd certainly fit that description.
yes, yes, I am wild I am the wind that makes breathing hard
Now feeling cheeky and a bit of an ass, the youth maneuvered some other things around the sapling, namely clusters of twigs and brush threatening to not only frame, but block it out of necessary sunlight, only turning her head back over her shoulder to address the woman. “Yup.” With a little pop at the end of her speech, completely unbothered by the notions. Anyone who’d been around vampire gourds in the past few years knew their reputations for being ankle-biting shitheads, and clustered together in a tight-knit group, they were even worse.
Fangorn made some warning indication with vines moving and rumbles towards Melita, but she was already on a roll; ignoring the fact that her companion listened quite well, and only seemed to devour insects, and any other meat he could get his tendrils on. “A bunch of them come out every Leafchange.”
I am the ocean and the battered shore I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
Alys was far less bothered by the vampire gourd's diet than she was by the stranger's apparent annoyance with her. If anything, she found the notion of a carnivorous vegetable fascinating. And, if Melita's words were to be believed, there were more of them! "I want one," Alys said in an almost wishful tone. "That's incredible. You say they come out every Leafchange? Where?" It was, perhaps, the most verbose she had been with a stranger in quite some time, but she was genuinely interested, and her good mood still lingered.
She watched as the other woman poked and prodded at twigs and brush around a small sapling, tilting her head in confusion. "What are you doing?" she asked. Again, there was nothing judgmental about her voice or demeanor; she was simply curious. She'd never seen someone seemingly so intent on caring for a wild plant before.
yes, yes, I am wild I am the wind that makes breathing hard
Her eyes set into some form of a glare, though she couldn’t quite fathom why. But she didn’t intend to tell the unfamiliar woman just how to go about acquiring such a companion, and in some portion, thought it might be funny to be surrounded by a horde of the demonic little fiends. “Hollowed Grounds, mostly,” she surmised, figuring it’d be difficult for them to traverse now, where most of the lands had been separated from one another. Unless they harnessed a method of travel…
Turning her head back so Alys couldn’t see her laugh forming at the mental image of vampire gourds using skyships, her hands went to the leaf litter surrounding the sapling. “Giving it some space and room to grow,” she mentioned off-handedly; wondering if it would even work.
I am the ocean and the battered shore I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
Alys glanced around the forest as she listened, her attention grabbed by this pool or that as new images flashed upon their surfaces. As such, she missed most of the other woman's glare. If the stranger was so against her, then perhaps it was time to move on and leave her - and her fascinating gourd - to themselves. After all, Alys had long since learned that she wasn't going to make friends with everyone, and she'd made her peace with that.
But then the woman said that she was giving the little sapling space and room to grow, and Alys's confusion grew. Her brows knitted together as she frowned at the back of her unwilling companion's head. "Why?" she asked, curiosity in her voice now. She couldn't fathom the reasoning behind such actions. This was nature. Some things succeeded. Others withered and died. There was no rhyme or reason to it, and for humans to interfere with it made no sense. Through helping this one sapling, the stranger was likely sentencing another to death. Such was the circle of life.
yes, yes, I am wild I am the wind that makes breathing hard
At times, Melita was complicated; forthright in her mannerisms, with a thousand burning conflagrations under all the spite, poor impulse control, and haunting memories. She was destructive and defensive to a fault, capable of unfurling copious amounts of damage to anything that threatened her, her friends, or her companions’ livelihoods, without much hesitation. An ember, a piece of kindling, eager to be incited and stoked within a moment’s notice.
And then there were other moments where the Honeybee was very, very simple. As she patted the ground, then stood up to survey her work (a modest amount of dead brush and leaf litter removed, at least a chance for the sapling to grow a bit taller), she shrugged her shoulders. “I like peppermint bark.” Brushing her hands together, she snagged at her bag, hastening towards her companions in the vague inclination of their silent bond.
I am the ocean and the battered shore I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
04-19-2023, 12:12 AM (This post was last modified: 04-19-2023, 12:12 AM by Alys.)
Alys Glasse
Alys did not like complicated, but as it turned out, she also did not like simple. Melita's response was almost too simple, leading Alys to assume there was, in fact, more to it, deep down. She raised an eyebrow at the young woman, but Melita offered no more explanation. After a moment's deliberation, she shrugged. She simply didn't care enough to press for more of an answer.
When the other woman had cleared away enough of the brush, she stooped, brushed off her hands, and made to leave. Alys watched, her brows knit in confusion. She wasn't really the social sort, but even she knew that some kind of farewell was usually required in this sort of situation. "'Bye, then," she called after the other woman, feeling a bit forlorn. It wasn't that she particularly wanted to stick around, but her recent interactions had all been better than... whatever this was. It was probably her own fault, of course. Sometimes things just worked out this way.
yes, yes, I am wild I am the wind that makes breathing hard
Truth be told, Melita didn’t care either, so they’d be able to part on such ranges of indifference and disregard it would be as though the event never took place. Simple, concise, with need for vehemence, violence, or anything else. Ensuring Sila and Fangorn were following, in their own distinct ways, she gave a halfhearted wave back to Alys, and maybe the woman was lucky to have even received that. “Bye.” As the vampire gourd rolled and bobbed, and the dragon flew, they made their way back towards skyports and beaches, some more peppermint bark tucked firmly in her pocket for later ventures.
{FIN}
I am the ocean and the battered shore I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
