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!
05-06-2023, 05:30 AM (This post was last modified: 05-06-2023, 05:30 AM by Sohalia.)
Sohalia
It was a beautiful morning: early enough not to be too hot, and sunny, without a cloud in the sky. Sohalia wandered the Ahi Coast, her staff in hand, searching for the perfect spot to practice. She'd been putting a great deal of time into her staffwork of late, and she was proud of the progress she felt she'd made. The physicality of the exercise had grown easier with time, and there was something mentally relaxing about the practice that she couldn't quite put her finger on. It was almost meditative, once she got into the rhythm of her practice, and that was something she usually only experienced when she was drawing or painting.
Finding a flat area of hard ground away from the sand of the beach, Soh set the bag she always carried aside and tied her hair away from her face. She gripped the staff she carried and began to go through some basic motions: high, mid, and low blocks, then shifting into high, mid, and low hits, flowing from one form to another with grace and precision. She was so absorbed in her practice that she didn't hear the approach of footsteps in the sand.
I never had a chance to be soft I was always bloody knuckles
She wasn’t going to lie – the hangover from her indulgent drinking at the party and during Sunjata’s speech (and then…maybe some more alcohol when she got home to wipe away the whoel day) might have been too much. Waking up in the morning with half-hearted grumbles, dry mouth, and snagging at enough water to drown a horse, it’d taken the Honeybee a while to muster the energy to meander along the beach.
Fangorn and Sila might’ve been sympathetic as she hitched her bag over her shoulder for the day’s activities, with vines rippling around her and soft, dragon croons, but with her pounding headache, she could only scratch them in response. “Sorry guys,” she uttered, figuring maybe today would just be taken easy, and she’d avoid Jack and any Ark duties.
Glimpsing ahead though, she saw Sohalia’s silhouette, one complete with a staff, and that constant need for indulgence and impulse drove her onward. “Hey!” She hollered by way of greeting, and then stood nearby, watching the movements. “Looking much better!”
and shards of glass I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
"Hey! Looking much better!" yelled a familiar voice, and Soh paused mid-swing to glance up and grin at Melita. "Thanks!" she said, pausing in her practice to lean on the staff. Sweat beaded on her forehead, a testament to her hard work thus far that morning. "I've been practicing." And practice she had - every day since Melita had shown her the basics. She'd also invested in a proper staff - better by far than the stick she'd used that day with Melita.
She'd found someone in Stormbreak to help her train, but she'd yet to have a chance to truly spar with anyone. Her instruction thus far had only included solo practice and predetermined battle dances, and she was eager to try out her new knowledge on someone who knew what they were doing. She had no doubt that she would lose spectacularly, but she would be happy if she could get a few hits in along the way! "Care to join me?" she asked.
I never had a chance to be soft I was always bloody knuckles
Care to join me rankled along her emboldened brain, and it was enough to bypass the ridiculous headache pounding against the rest of her senses, and the need to rest. Maybe sparring would tear it all away. “Sure! Though I’ll warn you I drank waaaaay too much last night,” perhaps by way of mentioning it because she’d be prone to doing something stupid, foolish, or vehement simply for the sake of doing so. Difficult to tell until the Honeybee was in the moment.
Snagging her staff out of her bag, she started her usual exercises, warming up her arms into the residual practice, the muscles already humming with the familiar weight, twist, and turn. As the armament hummed from one hand to the other, her eyes flickered along the less-ignorant motions of Sohalia’s own. “Where have you been learning?”
and shards of glass I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
At Melita's warning, Soh frowned at the other young woman. "If that's the case, then maybe we shouldn't -" But Melita was already warming up, twisting and turning with the staff in her hands. With a mental shrug, Soh returned to her own practice, still not quite as comfortable with her weapon as Melita, but certainly much more comfortable than she had been before. She at least knew the basics now: high, mid, and low strikes and the corresponding blocks, and some short battle dances that had been drilled into her brain for weeks. "I found someone in Stormbreak," she told Melita. "I'm living there now."
When enough time had passed for Soh to feel warmed up, she turned to Melita and assumed a guard position: her staff held before her, her hands spread about shoulder length apart, her weight balanced as she waited on the balls of her feet. It wasn't a perfect stance, by any stretch of the imagination - but it was better, and that was all that mattered. "If you're feeling too bad, we don't have to practice," she said, not wanting to force the other woman into something she wasn't up for.
I never had a chance to be soft I was always bloody knuckles
May have been more of a warning for Sohalia. Who was to say?
The Honeybee couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose at the notions of Stormbreak but those were based on a variety of experiences. Uncles dying. Shittier uncles trying to get relics. Swimming around while there was a rock giant manifested from cliffsides and other demigods swarming her said shitty uncle. “Oh, congratulations,” came along a somewhat bleak tone, but there wasn’t quite a right explanation for why. Vibes.
When the youth had warmed up and ignored her headache for motion, movement, and ferocity, she snorted at the insinuation. “Please. I don’t pass up opportunities for spars.” And…violence, but anyway.
Melita came in swinging, all quick, rapid, swift control, years of practice instilled into muscle memory, aiming for Sohalia’s lower legs.
and shards of glass I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
Melita's reluctance to discuss Stormbreak struck Soh, as this was the second time the young woman had avoided mention of the region. She wasn't one to press, however, as it wasn't any of her business why Melita was so reluctant to talk about or visit the city. The moment slipped away with only a quiet word of thanks for Melita's congratulations.
Soh huffed a laugh as Melita chided her. "Well, all right, then," she said. At least she tried to make sure that Melita was taking care of herself.
All thoughts of the young woman's fitness to spar vanished the moment Melita came in swinging, sweeping her staff towards Soh's legs. She moved belatedly, angling her staff towards the ground to stop Melita's blow, but it was too late, and she did a quick sidestep instead to attempt to dodge. Unfortunately, that didn't work either, and Melita's staff rapped her on the ankle. Soh hissed in pain - Melita certainly didn't pull any punches - and swung her own staff towards Melita's shoulder.
I never had a chance to be soft I was always bloody knuckles
Any other time, Melita might have been surprised by someone else’s concern over her. It didn’t happen very often, given her potential for ruin and vitriol, and multitudes along Torchline were used to seeing some modicum of blood on her. Vaguely touched, but not enough to acknowledge it openly, the youth simply persisted and continued in her haste for vehemence and glory. She didn’t even see Fangorn rolling his eyes.
There was a feral little grin wrapped around her mouth the moment her staff snagged at Sohalia’s ankles, but either the headache or Cheshire stupidity left her unable to fully fend off the next round. Intending to duck and dodge, her evasion was a little subdued, and she was left with a tap along her shoulders too. “Nice,” she offered instead of a hiss, content with the potential of another bruise, before winding back in return, persistent in striving towards a fast and vicious swing near the Attuned’s ribs.
and shards of glass I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
Sohalia was surprised when her swing made contact with Melita's shoulder, and she nearly winced in sympathy at the new bruise that was sure to pop up as a result. Having done very few spars herself, Soh was not yet used to the potential for light wounds, with the worst injury she'd seen so far being bruised knuckles from where her fingers had been rapped by her instructor's staff when her hands wandered too far from the correct position. Still, she didn't begrudge Melita the knock to her ankles, and somehow she doubted that the other woman would be too bothered by Soh's connection with her shoulder.
Melita's next swing aimed for Soh's ribs, and the young woman hastily moved to block the blow. Forgetting where her hands were, however, she succeeded in blocking the strike to her side but failed to keep her fingers out of the way. Melita's staff smashed into her hand, and Soh nearly dropped her staff. Through some miracle, she managed to keep hold of it with her other hand, and she swept it towards Melita's feet, hoping to knock the Accepted off balance.
I never had a chance to be soft I was always bloody knuckles
A swell of laughter bounded against the surface of her lungs; amused, entirely, by these acts of vehemence and movement. While the giggle certainly wasn’t for Sohalia’s impending injury (she’d save for those people she loathed – like if Sunjata happened to fall off a cliff, or if someone like Loren tripped and fell into the ocean), it was all in the essence of contentment.
She countered the incoming volley rapidly, by dodging, evasion, and shifting quickly to the right. Out of range for just a moment, she had to opt back in again with a swift and feral dash, all action and audacity, swinging and churning for the Attuned’s knees this time.
and shards of glass I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
Melita's giggle caught Soh off guard, and she looked on with wary amusement as Melita dodged her blow easily, wondering if the laughter had any implications for how she might fare with the next attack. She was not one naturally inclined towards violence, so she could not have understood that Melita simply lived for such action. Instead, she braced herself for whatever might come next, assuming that her own attack was about to be countered.
Indeed, Melita rebounded quickly with a swift swing towards Soh's knees, and Soh swung her own staff to meet Melita's with a resounding crack of wood on wood. Soh reversed her motion, swinging her staff rapidly towards the opposite side of Melita's body, aiming for her unprotected arm.
I never had a chance to be soft I was always bloody knuckles
She hummed even as the block came; figuring improvements meant Sohalia’s defenses would be far more elevated than the last time they’d sparred. It meant the Honeybee had to focus, had to try, had to strive, rather than lazily dash about, so even with the pounding headache, she continued and persisted. Not to be deterred or outdone, especially not these days.
The responding volley came rapidly, and Melita simply extended her reach, catching and snagging at Sohalia’s staff. With a smirk, she twisted and turned, faster and swifter again, seeing if she could catch the other in a moment of unpredictable and haphazard motions, swinging the armament wildly towards the youth’s shoulder.
and shards of glass I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
Soh had indeed improved, and as the spar went on, she grew more and more confident in her abilities. Sure, some of her blocks might have seemed like good luck - like some roll of divine dice - but she had managed with limited injury thus far. She was starting to get used to the way the wood of her staff hummed against her palms with each successful block or hit, as though the staff was singing through the air. So when Melita smirked and twisted, Soh grinned in return, meeting the Accepted blow-for-blow.
Seeing the wild swing, Soh skipped quickly backwards and just managed to avoid Melita's staff as it whistled by her shoulder. Sweat dripped from her forehead, but she wasn't nearly as easily winded these days. Launching into a counterattack, Soh jabbed her staff straight out towards Melita's chest, prepared to pull back if the other woman failed to block or dodge.
I never had a chance to be soft I was always bloody knuckles
Melita ducked, an age-old tradition of striving to avoid those measures without any other semblance of thought. Unfortunately, it didn’t work quite the way she wanted; though it missed her chest, Sohalia’s staff countered directly into her collarbone, inciting an oomph and a snarl. Not for the youth, but for her own stupidity.
Attempting to ensure that wouldn’t happen again, the Honeybee rallied back, twisting, turning, and bounding to Sohalia’s right. From a logical standpoint, a rare occasion in Melita’s thoughts, she was aiming, intending, to go for the woman’s unprotected back, swinging towards her spine in a jovial pursuit, rather than anything truly haphazard or alarming. She knew the damage she was capable of.
and shards of glass I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
