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!
your dreams are all full of war you are from another time
Melita could remember the days where they all would’ve rushed headlong into such discoveries. And while maybe she would’ve still, even now, she didn’t have quite the same setup as many of the others – and perhaps it was for the best. The trauma interlaced and wove far too close to their eyes, and if there were monsters laying and lurking beneath, they certainly weren’t bothering anyone else at the moment. Might as well leave them be. They’d all earned their rest in some capacity. “Fair enough,” and she still snickered, still keeping it all in the back of her mind.
Fangorn continued to hiss and sputter, but seemed to calm down, realizing he wasn’t going to go plummeting back down to the earth anytime soon. His vines wrapped tighter, and since Sunjata had yet to complain, the little gourd persisted.
She watched the water for a moment, tearing against the infiltrating pollen, before her massive snicker turned back towards her uncle. “Not sure if it’s worth it, but, I figure if we all keep hitting it, eventually, one day…,” and she made a big motion with her hands to indicate a toppling tower, complete with a silent boom exuding from her mouth.
salvation doesn't look like light So what remains?
// i came from a broken home, so look at all my broken bones count me in, but count me out, i know what this is about //
Her snickering and amusement do wonders at keeping him relaxed despite the poison that he’s sure tries to seep up – clouds and mists of it that he pushes back down with his magic to make sure it stays down while also keeping a good hold on Fangorn despite his hissing and sputtering, making sure that there was no room for the gourd to potentially fall. Luckily, Sunjata’s strong enough and steady footed enough to ensure it too.
And unfortunately for the gourd, Sunjata’s strength also boons him in that the tightening of the vines around his arm don’t seem to bother him at all.
Sunjata listens, though, as his niece recollects the thoughts on the Spire, and his amusement grows further with the grin that spreads across his face – half twisted toward the relief it might bring to have such a spot of heartache finally no longer exist. And rather than her silent boom, Sunjata’s more than happy to watch her hands while he supplicates a more audible crashing sound, snorting afterwards as he heaves a playful sigh. “Honestly, might be worth going to the Grounds to witness it for the last time it stands.” It would be bittersweet, he’s sure, regardless of how much he hates the Spire. It was still one of the first places he can recall from arriving here, and it was still tied to Nate in a way that Sunjata resents, but alas.
It would be so fucking nice to not have that looming over one’s shoulder.
the flood
// i'm the next, so get in line just let me have my fucking time //
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
your dreams are all full of war you are from another time
While Fangorn laced and wove and ensured there’d be no faltering of his little gourd being, Melita’s head tilted, paying attention to the flowers and poisons seeping in around their feet. Ducking under a thread of branches, and listening to Sila breathe heavier behind her ear, the Honeybee chanced another glance at Sunjata, brow arching. “There’s a shit ton of lightning or something too,” which she handwaved, as if this wasn’t a big deal, given how it’d already been overcome once. How much more could it take? A few more solid rounds of ammunition, from ships or shifts that knew how to navigate the void? Off in the distance – as if no longer remained a threat.
Shrugging, and feeling the dragonling grab a firmer hold of her shoulder, the smuggler sighed. “I wonder if you can even still go inside it.” To savage and scavenge, before breaking it wholly apart.
salvation doesn't look like light So what remains?
// i came from a broken home, so look at all my broken bones count me in, but count me out, i know what this is about //
That comment of lightning draws a small frown to start pulling at his face, curiously glancing back over toward his niece before he nods slightly. “Lightning was kind of the Voice’s thing.” He admits a bit gruffly – a power transferred to Nate in some aspects, but he won’t forget the way he’d asked the Voice for lightning in a bottle in order to make the safe haven – the way the lightning had a different kind of electric buzz that he couldn’t quite place.
Besides, Sunjata’s never had good luck with lightning anyway. “I’ll be sure to not wear metal near it.” A small joke on his part, replacing the start of the frown with a snort, keeping a tight hold on Fangorn while he continues to push the poison down, ducking under branches where he can.
As for going inside it, a thoughtful hum slips from his throat. “Good question. I wonder if it still is full of obsidian.” Something that was similar to the new Ancient’s chosen space, though he doesn’t dwell on that thought much either.
the flood
// i'm the next, so get in line just let me have my fucking time //
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
your dreams are all full of war you are from another time
Oh, Melita recalled and remembered – so maybe they were remnants of what had been left behind – lingering collections of discord, strife, and power, so the world would still remember the Voice. The Honeybee figured no one would forget the New God, not after the drama, violence, and vehemence brought forth all because she’d once existed, but people tended to forge onward, memories bleak, traumas unbidden. So she nodded, looking ahead, dodging another bramble of thorny brush.
Only a light snort accompanied the metal remark, but the interior portions still left her perplexed – vague moments amidst the trails of obsidian, and then rooms upon rooms, doors upon doors, locked or otherwise. “Or anything else.” An inquiry came to her soon after, though she probably should’ve thought of it long ago – but there’d been too many other things at stake. The curiosity wasn’t out of cruelty, but merely wondering – chancing a glance at Sunjata again, as it would’ve involved Nate’s, and scores of others, existences. “Where do you think all the Ascended souls went?” Disappeared with the Voice? Scattered somewhere else?
salvation doesn't look like light So what remains?
// i came from a broken home, so look at all my broken bones count me in, but count me out, i know what this is about //
It had been over hundreds of years, realistically, that the Voice held onto some semblance of power. He also doubts that there’s the possibility anyone here might forget. The lines of war still raged on the outskirts of Caido, and how else would one explain that other than to simply explain what had happened? Let alone, if anyone found any Ascended bodies no longer harboring souls – and suddenly his stomach feels a little wobbly, wondering whatever happened to Nate’s or if the Lone Ranger’s plan had come to fruition of it exploding before anyone else got their hands on him.
He draws silent, though, still holding onto Fangorn and keeping the poisoned pollen at a minimum as he takes a moment to look around and try and get some semblance of where they’re heading – if they might end up on the other side of it back to the desert sands or if they were going in circles. It’s a thought that doesn’t linger long when Melita asks her question and he swallows a little hard, pausing to glance back at her. “I don’t know.” He admits, a touch sadly. “I wish I did, though.” Never mind the fact he’d never see his husband again and Melita would never see her uncle again, he hopes that they’ve gone somewhere peaceful at least. Maybe they could finally get that long rest that the Voice kept them from in trying to make them bioengineered perfection.
the flood
// i'm the next, so get in line just let me have my fucking time //
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
your dreams are all full of war you are from another time
Melita didn’t know how long they’d been walking, but the plants had started to alter, change, thin out – and so her eyes wandered, meandered, upwards, to see if they were approaching the edge of something. And perhaps, in another way, they were – but more of the knowledge and wisdom of the world. Or lack thereof, given the somber tones and notes, and her brows furrowed again. It was unfair for the Voice to have taken and plucked those souls straight out of their forms and away from Mort, with no way to ever reunite with their own. “Maybe…,” she started, without much forethought. “Maybe we’ll see during the Festival of Lights.”
Because, in the Honeybee’s logic, if Ludo could somehow pull them out of nowhere, that meant something.
Unless they were just figments of memories – and then they’d all be at a loss.
salvation doesn't look like light So what remains?
// i came from a broken home, so look at all my broken bones count me in, but count me out, i know what this is about //
The world around changes and the poisonous plants begin to thin out, Sunjata withholding his water magic for the moment to see how aggressive the few of the plants were. Perhaps it’s due to being on the edge of the lush space, but they don’t seem to have much poison left in them at all. Still, he holds onto Fangorn until they’re clear of it before he sets the gourd down in the sand, looking back to his niece when she mentions the Festival of Lights.
It’s when a thought clicks into place and his brows pinch, tugging at one of the many scars on his face. “I think… Isla was picked last year to see Varus and he was Ascended.” So maybe there was hope that they could see Nate again? Or maybe it was all a very elaborate illusion Ludo plays in order to try and make the pain of loss easier?
He doesn’t know and can’t speculate on that, but he certainly does know that they’re no longer in the lush, humid grove they’d found.
the flood
// i'm the next, so get in line just let me have my fucking time //
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
your dreams are all full of war you are from another time
She watched steadily for something else to unravel; but it just seemed to be the desert backdrop in front of them. Brows pinching for a moment, she stared out over the expanse, seeing if she could decipher semblances and movement in the distance, but when nothing came to fruition, save for occurrences in the past, she simply nodded. “So it’s not out of the question,” came on a slightly feral smile, though she’d have to figure any Ascended elements would be created out of their memories.
As for anything else, she jutted her jaw forward towards the scenery. “What do you think? Should we head back?” To homes and things well known, instead of the poisonous and enigmatic sanctions.
salvation doesn't look like light So what remains?
// i came from a broken home, so look at all my broken bones count me in, but count me out, i know what this is about //
He shakes his head with a somewhat renewed thought of whether or not it would be possible to get closure. It’s a thought he swallows down once their feet hit the comfort of the sand again and there’s no longer any threat of poisoning plants, comfortable enough to set Fangorn back down to the ground “there you go, big guy.” He rumbles to the gourd, setting him down gently before he turns to look back at the lush section they'd just left.
“Yeah, I think we should.” He agrees, stepping to make room so that he can shift and lower his wing to allow her to climb up onto his back again, so that they can make the trip so much shorter with flying out of it. He does swoop over the space they’d gone through, though, just on the off chance they’d missed anything from the ground but it seems the plants are too dense to see anything else out of it.
— Fin <333
the flood
// i'm the next, so get in line just let me have my fucking time //
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
