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!
Ordinarily, the barracks were loud from soldiers and their usual ruckus; shouts from barked orders, roughhousing taunts, and encouragements from sidelines. Today though, due to the latest splurge of arachnids, the yells came from amplified nuances of mayhem, emboldened by the notions of annihilation.
Several of them, including the Sword himself, stood from the top of the climbing wall in the broad daylight, eyes sweeping and searching for the floating spiders. Before long, one would be spotted, and eventually eradicated in some manner – weapons unleashed with well-accomplished accuracy, to a strengthening rally amidst their brethren. The beast would fall, and the cheers would descend upon mauling the rest of the silk and thread threatening to stick everywhere.
Ridiculous, truly, but Deimos would take full advantage of another inspiration behind precision.
Which was why his own gaze narrowed, pinpointing a rather large beast overhead, before setting it entirely aflame, engulfing it within a vicious inferno.
I lend everyone my ear, but nobody my heart and I sure would like to change that, but I don't know where to start
Hotaru is heading out for Torchline when she encounters the cacophony happening at the barracks. Having peacefully ignored all the other thickly spiderwebbed buildings, she can't exactly ignore Deimos standing on top of the climbing wall decimating spiders in little gouts of flame.
More enticed by the idea of destruction than de-webbing, Hotaru gleefully transforms and flies to the top of the climbing wall, circling around Deimos' feet where the wall ends, little falconic warbles and cries slipping out of her beak until he makes room for her to land and transform back. (Realistically there was already plenty of room, she's just a brat).
Comfortably settled on two feet now, Hotaru peers up at the floating spiders and chuckles. "You couldn't have asked for a better exercise to literally float into your lap." From the cheering below, the Shields agree. Taking a sphere of ice from the pouch that is always on her hip, she slots it into her slingshot and takes aim into the sky before releasing. It shatters against the frosted exterior of the pulpit, decimating multiple spiders and sending sprays of ice in every direction to ping off the cobblestone below.
Hotaru
Hotaru has a passive magic that makes her glow with an internal golden light; it makes her appear youthful and her hair seems to look like moving sunlight. Can only subtly illuminate dark spaces.
Hotaru’s sudden appearance, and a full two steps maneuvering over, gave him somewhat of a distraction from total obliteration of the arachnids. His comrades filled the role perfectly though, continuing to shout over one another as arrows flew, skewered, and speared, or other decimations of elements were brought to the forefront. Deimos took the opportunity to arch his brow, watching as Hotaru’s weaponry fixated on several – ice splayed in all directions, much to the chagrin of some below.
Figuring they would get over it, the Sword snorted. “Truly. Though there will be quite a bit to clean up.” Gesturing to the threads clinging everywhere – but then he figured someone who lost a bet, or a game, would inevitable end up tasked with the chore (or himself; given his proclivity towards order).
Waiting until her shot was completed, he began snagging at pieces and portions of air, until there was a crafty miniature tornado spiraling around, snatching at stray spiders, torturing them as they looped around and around in a devilish circle. “How was your vacation?”
I lend everyone my ear, but nobody my heart and I sure would like to change that, but I don't know where to start
Glancing down as her own ice shards join those of the icicles down below to a chorus of grumbling, Hotaru merely grins, unrepentant. "But they'll be dead at least, so who cares?" Certainly not the Valkyrie. Ice will melt, they can grumble and grunt all they desire from far at her feet.
Watching Deimos torture the cloud spiders in a miniature tornado, Hotaru lends her own hand - or rather, magic - to the mix. Electricity amassing in his vortex to fry and crumple every misplaced, unfortunate beast. Her oldest magic, it's as easy to her as breathing; conveniently, that means they can just as easily hold a conversation. "It was..." she finds herself at a loss for words, so instead she lets the bond open so he can feel the change in her for himself. Peace, happiness, hope, and something electric and avaricious that is purely Hotaru. Something she'd lost for longer than all those other emotions. "Amazing. Really amazing." Though she does grimace slightly, if dramatically. "An unfortunate - and I'm sure intentional - collection of individuals though." Not that she would ever expect anything different from Flora.
Hotaru
Hotaru has a passive magic that makes her glow with an internal golden light; it makes her appear youthful and her hair seems to look like moving sunlight. Can only subtly illuminate dark spaces.
“Probably could use the thread for something too,” he mentioned, looking down below to see some scampering and grabbing, pulling the silk off to the side. Tormenting the arachnids was far more entertaining though, and as Ru added her electricity to the mix, a very content and juvenile smile sprung forth on his mouth – laughing as the lightning speared and shocked and stupefied.
For more amusements, he moved the spiraling tornado around, so that it began to snag others in its wake – snatching, swallowing, consuming, until they were in their vast array of torture with little hope of escape. Eventually it was a cataclysm of stormy, mercurial air, lightning, and fried spiders, with a few more hoorays coming from the walls or the training grounds.
He paid attention to her answer though, brow arching as the bond opened and yielded – greedy little moments conspiring together in serenity and contentment, granules of hope that he hadn’t heard or felt from her in some time. The Sword eased a breath at her description, perhaps placing aside all those worried sentiments, for now. “Glad you had a good time. Think I met one of your conquests,” a brief mention, to see if he could rile her. The next statement caused the age-old tilt to his head thereafter though, pondering over word-choices and individuals. “Like who?”
I lend everyone my ear, but nobody my heart and I sure would like to change that, but I don't know where to start
"Damn, I didn't think of that." Eyeing the Shields below, she wonders if she can sweet talk them into parting with some of it, or secure some form of trade. Would cloud spider silk incorporate well with clothing? Already her old seamstress brain is at work.
She can't help how the open bond immediately betrays her humor, embarrassment, and what can only be described as 'oops!' as he continues speaking, not fast enough to close the bond and conceal it. Laughing out loud, she turns an unrepentant but pink-cheeked look his way. "Which one?" Positively gleeful in its delivery, because she'd had a few in Torchline while she was away.
"Remi and Ronin, Sunjata and Isla, myself, Phoebe." Already he should be able to visualize the tangled webs there. Lifting her sphere again, she shoots it into the little electrified storm, and grins as it explodes in a beautiful display of ice and lightning, cast about by Deimos' air. "Surprisingly, no fights broke out. In fact a lot of good came of it I think." Herself and Sunjata working to restore their friendship, and Ronin and Sunjata talking.
Hotaru
Hotaru has a passive magic that makes her glow with an internal golden light; it makes her appear youthful and her hair seems to look like moving sunlight. Can only subtly illuminate dark spaces.
Glancing downwards to see what the Shields were getting up to, most had opted to persist in obliterating any spiders missed and drifting below, or yielding to snagging at threads and silk. “Perhaps you can barter with them later.” He figured she’d relish the opportunity to do a little coercion now and then.
The bond’s waves of emotions told him he was correct, and he rolled his eyes to the sky and back again, taking the opportunity to raise the capricious, tornado-esque storm of spiders and lightning, expanding the length of the winding wind so it contorted through the air above them like a vicious cloud. Considering his next move as she spoke, he placed some additional fire within, to see the pockets of embers shorn and decimate. “Danta,” he eventually proclaimed, with a slight wrinkle to his nose. “Little too much like Thranduil,” and he waited for her rebuttal, stammering, and squawking.
The Hanged Man party seemed to have been quite a show – the addition of Remi and Phoebe surprising him, but jaw clenching immediately upon Sunjata. To hear the Flood hadn’t met his end, escaping unscathed again, prospered a rather mulish look, corresponding with a wrinkled nose and a healthy dose of skepticism. “A lot of good?”
I lend everyone my ear, but nobody my heart and I sure would like to change that, but I don't know where to start
Though the bond hadn't translated that directly, she isn't surprised that he can clearly tell her thoughts, even sparing him a grin for it. But there are far more interesting things to discuss - at least in her opinion - so she lets the matter drop.
Snorting a laugh at the mention of Danta, she immediately grimaces after when Deimos compares him to Thranduil. Days of stammering and squawking are blessedly behind her, forced to grow and reevaluate her addiction to the toxic pull of men a little too much like her. "I can't say you're wrong, but I also doubt he is the type for anything long-term. It's merely a bit of fun." Which means it's safe to indulge in in Hotaru's opinion. She might desire fanciful things like love and romance, but that doesn't mean she can't tango in the interim.
His distaste is evident visibly and through the echoes of the bond, and Hotaru is carefully neutral in her reaction to it given how conflictingly positive she feels about it all. "He has grown. But grief will do that to you I suppose." Lifting her slingshot once more she strikes down another nesting group on the far wall, bypassing Deimos' fire tornado for the sake of actually eradicating the pests instead of mere tomfoolery. "He is working to mend things with those he has hurt or lost. I visited him twice before returning; he seems sincere in his desire for friendship." Deimos does not need to know about the rest, lest he give her an earful or otherwise crush all the spiders at once in his disgruntlement.
Hotaru
Hotaru has a passive magic that makes her glow with an internal golden light; it makes her appear youthful and her hair seems to look like moving sunlight. Can only subtly illuminate dark spaces.
Hotaru and long term hadn’t been something for a great while, but he made no mention of it; because there’d been trials, tribulations, and trauma mired and murky within those depths, and she’d been working her way towards healing. If conquests seemed to assemble into that nature of soothing and assuaging the Valkyrie’s needs, he’d say nothing about it – besides a little teasing now and then. Leaving discussion of Thranduil and Danta behind, he veered into another potential. “What about this George character?”
Tomfoolery it might have been, but all the spiders tangled and immersed within his infernal tornado were quite dead. Shifting the ashes amidst the wind into a modest pile near the bottom of the climbing wall, he started more barrages, shifting incantations into icy shards this time, skewering several deigning to linger along the roof. Which served as an ample distraction too, as the subject shifted to Sunjata, because then he could pretend they were his head as he skewered them.
Grief might’ve made them all grow, but the Flood had sown so many disastrous seeds it was a wonder anything prospered. “I am not quick to forgive or forget,” a shift in his eyes, remembering and recalling every damned thing that Sunjata had enacted upon Hotaru. From the ridiculous marriage to Phoebe on nothing more than stupidity, to the second and third changes given and squandered with children, with the Ascended…a laundry list of sins that Deimos couldn’t easily dash away. “Must have quite a bit of work on his hands then.”
I lend everyone my ear, but nobody my heart and I sure would like to change that, but I don't know where to start
It's true it hadn't happened in a very long time, or arguably at all with any degree of success. That didn't mean she hadn't been chasing it since she was a little girl, too young to conceal the want in her eyes and the softness of her heart. Those desires may be hard to glean now, so well-defended are her innermost thoughts, but things had never really changed.
George's name being next on his lips has her turning and plainly shooting him a baffled expression. "How many have you met?" It's almost hilarious, and the corners of her lips twitch. Is it fate drawing her suitors to her brother's side, as if aware he would have opinions? Or something more mischievous hoping to annoy him with the frequency and number of them? Turning back, she shoots another ball of ice leisurely across the barracks, decimating a small cluster on the south end as she considers her response. "He is sweet. Attentive. Similarly inclined to thievery and flirtations, but with a heart for something longterm. Quite charming." Which means: looks perfect on paper. But she bites her lip, and from the bond he'll feel something queasy and uncertain in her stomach, recalling her own reaction to his touch in the showers. "But sometimes it feels too...rote. Easy." Huffing, she shakes her head slightly. "Flora called him boring." Hotaru had objected to that, asked if she didn't deserve some boring peace in her life, but Flora had disagreed. Ru still wonders if she's right.
As for Sunjata, she lets him grimace and sneer to his hearts content, never one to dictate how he feels. "I know you don't. And I'm sure he has a Cordillera-sized mountain to overcome." Melita alone would make him work overtime to prove himself worthy of forgiveness, not to mention all the others whose ties had been charred or broken over the years. "But we both lost so much; for myself, I'm tired of holding old hurt. So long as he wants to tur a new leaf, I don't mind trying again at being friends." Hotaru knows Deimos well enough to know he will caution and warn, sneer and scoff, but always allow her her multitudes of chances, mistakes, and opinions. It's something she loves about him.
Hotaru
Hotaru has a passive magic that makes her glow with an internal golden light; it makes her appear youthful and her hair seems to look like moving sunlight. Can only subtly illuminate dark spaces.
A comment of how many are there nearly slid from behind his teeth, but he refrained – instead opting to spear another onslaught of spiders, watching as they faded into nothingness. “They find me,” and truth be told, he suspected George of the movements at least – introducing himself as Ru’s friend almost immediately. But he listened as always, fading into silence as the Valkyrie spoke of the fellow thief, and his eyes drew back to her as Attuned ruminations didn’t seem to match the accord hastening through.
And then his gaze went across the barracks again, pondering. “Does it feel too easy because of things you have been through?” The drama and chaos of it all, eternally chasing down feelings and bedlam; from Helovia to Caido, and even in just the latter; the dangling precipice of Sunjata and Nate, and their cluster of constant, unrelenting antics. Frey and Remi, granting her twins but in something seemingly forbidden. Would it be better for her to find someone who gave her some sense of ease, of comfort, rather than running and rampaging after disorder and upheaval? “I do not know much about him. He helped take some of the spider silk off the guild.” Nothing had seemed inclined in either direction.
The subject of Sunjata sent him returning to icy shards on the arachnids daring to crawl along the edge of the climbing wall, and he tormented them by dangling them along the edge before piercing through. Deimos never tired of holding his grudges; steeling himself against the hoards of anger and frustration across his shoulders as if meant to carry it for eternity. His eyes narrowed in suspicion, before sighing, shaking his head. “I do not want you hurt by him again.”
I lend everyone my ear, but nobody my heart and I sure would like to change that, but I don't know where to start
Sparing a chuckle that she vainly tries to not let turn into a cackle for his suffering, Hotaru indulges in the humor for as long as she can, because she knows what he is going to ask. She has asked herself the same since George's departure and come up empty-handed each time.
"I can't tell," she admits softly, the brisk wind touching her cheeks from so high above the ground and keeping her from sliding too far into those emotions and memories. "It's hard to trust my gut feelings these days. I feel I've made so many mistakes that I can't any longer." So how is she to know whether what she's feeling is lack of chemistry or something more sinister? Something like being addicted to the hurt and the pain of an ill-fitting, explosive relationship? "Sometimes I do feel he is rather plain; few goals or dreams. But is that reason enough for how I feel? Or am I to blame?" Now she's mostly speaking aloud, but Deimos has always been privy to her innermost thoughts, there is nothing she seeks to hide from him (aside from perhaps the steamy bits).
Taking another sphere out, she merely holds it in her hand, examining it idly. The frost does not hurt her fingers as they should given the Academy's blessing, which is another thing to marvel at. "I don't either. I don't think I could withstand it," she answers frankly, aware that for how incredibly far she has come since the war, she is still fragile. Breakable. And Sunjata has always held the key to the most delicate pieces of her upon which to wreak havoc and hurt her more than anyone else. But that's also why she misses him, why she wants his friendship once more - that intimacy could be a positive thing if they both merely tried. But how is she supposed to communicate that to Deimos? "I can only hope that things will be different. Maybe that opens me to hurt again, but the only other option is to close myself off from the healing that forgiveness and companionship can offer." Huffing, she spins the sphere in her fingers before lobbing it bare-handed at the wall just to feel the physicality of it. "Or maybe I'm just being delusional in my optimism. I don't know." But she'd rather try, lest she forget how to hope for good things at all.
Hotaru
Hotaru has a passive magic that makes her glow with an internal golden light; it makes her appear youthful and her hair seems to look like moving sunlight. Can only subtly illuminate dark spaces.
“I think it is fine as long as they are different mistakes,” an offering with an arch of his brow, striving to place humor in between the walls coming down, the confusion, the turmoil. Ru might not have necessarily been at a crossroads, but she seemed to be meandering down a foreign, unknown path. Trusting her instincts had gotten her through potency and peril, and then more impulsive gestures that ended up marred in thorns. Nothing that wasn’t eventually overcome, but the pain layered within could justify it not being worth the strife.
Sighing, he speared a few more spiders before turning his gaze back to the Valkyrie. “Does he just intend to be a thief?” Once, that might’ve been a lofty goal for a different world – this one had more to offer. “I suppose it comes down to if he interests you. Do you enjoy spending time with him?” Simplistic to start, perhaps, but Hotaru had been known to seek company not even worth her while. “Nor do I think you are to blame.” They were all scarred, marred, wounded, and traumatized in some manner – but it didn’t make her so broken and splintered, fractured and forlorn, to not seek another who didn’t inspire dramatics and heartache.
Hence why the notions of Sunjata still spurned him into grudges and grievances, a lifetime of resentments and rancor to expel upon the Flood. And while she might have put some hope into the fool, Deimos figured he’d had enough chances and opportunities in this life, and ended up somehow scorching through all of them. “Can you promise me that you will be careful?” With herself, this time?
I lend everyone my ear, but nobody my heart and I sure would like to change that, but I don't know where to start
She hums quietly, not knowing what to say to that, because she isn't sure if they are different mistakes. But she can tell he is trying to impart humor and levity amidst a difficult conversation, so she obligingly snorts and provides a small smile. "Well, I suppose the not knowing is a positive clue." Or so she will continue to hope.
"It's all he has been most of his life, so I assume so." Whether that changes over the years can only be seen - but is she willing to wait? How much does she value ambition in a partner these days? When she herself has contented herself in her position, is it even fair to require it of someone else? "I enjoy spending time with him, but I feel he treats me like glass. Like someone to protect." And, while she'd certainly taken comfort from him in the spa and been grateful for how readily he'd provided it, she isn't sure that's a sentiment she enjoys plentifully. But, again, where is the balance? "How can I be sure he'll hold my heart gently, but know to respect and acknowledge my strength?" Moments later she blows a raspberry and rolls her eyes. "The answer is to just keep letting things unfold, I'm sure. Which I despise." Impatient as ever, she wants the answers now. "It does not help that I feel I can't rely on him in turn." The nicest way she can call him weak without actively using the words.
Holstering her slingshot, no longer feeling the desire for violence when she can watch Deimos instigate on his own, Hotaru turns instead to search his face in silence. "I can promise I will try. With as much intent and wariness as I can provide." Anything else is a vow waiting to be broken, one she would never risk making.
Hotaru
Hotaru has a passive magic that makes her glow with an internal golden light; it makes her appear youthful and her hair seems to look like moving sunlight. Can only subtly illuminate dark spaces.
