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!
The plaza was as crowded as it ever was, and Noe strode through the crowd with her head held high. Thick black hair cascaded down her back, contrasting starkly with the cream-colored sweater that she wore against the chill in the air. Autumn was rapidly turning into winter, and Noe was not prepared. Leafchange was all well and good, but Noe was not a fan of the cold.
But today was a special day, and though the young woman would much rather be inside sipping some hot cocoa, she had braved the cool air in order to gather materials to make a lantern for her mother. It was something that she genuinely enjoyed doing, even as sad as it made her to remember how empty her life sometimes felt without her mother’s strong presence. Even though she’d always been closer with her father, her mother’s absence was keenly felt.
Noe carried a bag on her arm full of the items she would need to craft her lantern, and she made her way to a picnic table set up in the plaza. It was blessedly empty, and she set up her lantern crafting station without a glance for the many passersby. She hoped that someone would come by and join her; it would make the task easier to have some company.
08-17-2023, 05:13 PM (This post was last modified: 08-17-2023, 05:13 PM by Everest.)
Everest
A blustery and quite cool breeze whipped through the plaza, against which Everest Hart had tucked his chin and mouth inside of a deep blue scarf that was wound tightly around his neck. Even so, the tips of his ears were quite chilly such that the aviator made a mental note to pick himself (and Mateo) up a pair of earmuffs at his earliest convenience. That would have to be a chore for another day, though. Having completed his shopping earlier that day (as evidenced by the bags he carried under his arms), his next task was to finish making the lantern he'd started on earlier that season. Unlike Noe he planned to do this at home where all of his supplies were meticulously laid out in preparation. Alas, it was not to be.
Though Ever's scarf protected his cheeks and lips from the breeze his shopping bags lacked any such defense. From one, the fingers of the wind plucked bits of tissue paper and a sprig of juniper, carrying them up into their currents and out across the plaza. With a gasp of surprise and frustration, the aviator jogged as politely as he was able through the crowds of people to try and reclaim what the wind had stolen.
Fluttering as if on invisible strings, the paper and sprig of botanicals dropped delicately in the midst of Noe's crafting station.
even if i had to lose you to know you, i'd still be that temporary phase that you grow through
Noe had not been prepared for a gust of wind to blow a near-stranger practically into her lap, but sometimes the world liked to surprise her.
She was working diligently on her lantern, biting her lip in concentration as she painted a particularly fine stroke of color down the side, when the breeze kicked up and a sprig of what looked like juniper fell into the middle of her workstation, startling her. Her hand jerked, and her carefully-laid line of paint skidded off to the side. With a scowl, Noe used her finger to wipe away the smeared paint as best she could.
She sensed the presence of someone else before she saw him; she looked up as the hair on the back of her neck prickled with that awareness of someone approaching. He looked familiar - wasn't he the guy that hung around Mateo all the time? What was his name? "Oh, hi," she said with a bright smile, more polite to a friend of Mateo's than she might have been to a stranger. "Is this your juniper?"
Rosey-cheeked and a touch breathless, Everest arrived at the table looking bewildered and full of regret that his inability to hold onto the things he'd been clutching had been the cause of even the smallest bit of smeared paint. "I'm so sorry, I thought I had a hold on everything, but then the wind, and-" Having to intentionally keep himself from rambling, the aviator cast his blue eyes down toward Noe's lantern, wondering if there was anything he could do to remedy the smeared paint.
"Er-" Realizing he hadn't answered her question (rude), Everest nodded his head apologetically while shifting the packages in his grip to reach out for it. "It is, yes." He agrees guiltily. "Is there anything I can do to help fix that?"
even if i had to lose you to know you, i'd still be that temporary phase that you grow through
The aviator's rambling was perhaps a little endearing, softening Noe's irritation at having her work interrupted in such a manner. "No worries," she said, waving away the apology. "It happens. The wind is funny that way." As for the paint, she regards it with a tilted head. "It's not so bad. I'll just paint over the smear and try again," she said with a shrug. It wouldn't be the first time she'd had to restart a project, and this was only a small setback in the grand scheme of things. Just a single line. It wasn't even the whole lantern.
Noe cleaned off her paintbrush and selected a larger one, dipping it in the base color and using long strokes to cover up the smeared paint. "Would you like to join me?" she asked, glancing up at the aviator. "I'm Noe, by the way. And you're.... Everest, right? Mateo's friend?"
There were in fact quite a few worries on Ever's part, though he understood the colloquialism well enough that he merely smiled quickly rather than arguing the point. "The wind can be funny. I should have known better." He agrees, flushing again. It was a large part of his job to understand and plan for the funniness of the wind, and really, he should have known better.
'Is that your lantern for the festival?" He wonders politely, before nodding and sliding onto the seat opposite her. "I...yes, I am. Pleased to meet you, Noe." It doesn't surprise Everest that Noe knew of Mateo (who didn't), and so he merely bobbed his head agreeably enough. Setting down his bags before pulling out yet more sprigs of juniper, Everest began to carefully braid them together.
"Who is your lantern for?"
even if i had to lose you to know you, i'd still be that temporary phase that you grow through
"It is!" said Noe with a smile, holding it up for Everest's perusal before returning to her painting. With her base color once more covering the lantern, the young engineer set aside the lantern to survey the sketch she was using as a reference. As soon as the base coat dried, a line here, and then a line there... the final effect would be that of an abstract dragon, representing her mother, who had not only been a Dragoon, but fierce enough to be a dragon in her own right.
Everest joined her, and for a moment they worked in companionable silence, the aviator braiding springs of juniper together. Noe watched with interest until he asked who her lantern was for. 'It's for my mother," she said, her voice uncharacteristically soft. Her mother's death had left a void in her life, for all that she was closer to her father. "What about you?"
Always a touch awed by those capable of artistic persuits, the aviator watched in appreciative silence as Noe turned what looked like random brushstrokes, into the wonderful likeness of a dragon. "I'm sorry to hear that she's no longer with you." He offers gently. "Has she been gone for long?"
Attaching the braided juniper almost like a cable around his own lantern, which was incredibly plain and uninspired in comparison with the young dragoon's, Everest smiles to himself. "For my grandfather. My mom's dad. I never really got to meet him, or at least, not that I properly remember." He explains, sounding perhaps a touch bashful if only because the aviator had (thankfully, though perhaps unfairly) experienced very little death in his life thus far.
'I hope your lantern is chosen. For you and Koa both."
even if i had to lose you to know you, i'd still be that temporary phase that you grow through
As her dragon began to take shape, Noe felt her pride surge with each fine line and stroke of the brush. In another life, perhaps she would have chosen to become an artist; indeed, she had an artistic side when she wanted to, and when she didn't? Well, precision and steady hands were always welcome as an engineer. She frowned in concentration as she placed a particularly long, straight line on the lantern. "She died in the war," Noe said softly, sitting back as she finished the stroke she'd been so focused on. She turned soft eyes up to Everest. "It's still strange, sometimes, to think that she won't be coming home."
But that was enough of that; there was no point in getting misty-eyed here, in public, with some man who was basically a stranger. So Noe bit the inside of her cheek to sharpen her focus and stave off any tears that might otherwise have threatened.
"I'm sorry that you never got to meet him," Noe said, turning her attention to Everest's lantern. It was lovely, even if not covered in intricate paint strokes. Noe suddenly wondered if her mother would have liked something more like that - simple, no-nonsense. Something more like her. And suddenly her own lantern felt silly and overdone.
"Thank you," said Noe. "I hope yours is chosen. It looks lovely, by the way." And with that, the pair finished their lanterns in relative silence, comfortable, at least, in their shared task.
