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!
Iskra is quick and sharp-witted with his plan, and though Ru has no idea of his race (or she’d certainly be recruiting him for the Academy to strengthen his magic instead of doing chores) she still spares him an approving look amidst the death throes of the vanquished snow monster.
Though it might make more sense to preserve her magic for said chores, Ru shamelessly utilizes hers to dry out her clothes swiftly, refusing to muck about and perform physical labor in wet and chafing garments. Then she descends upon the pools of water and soaked paperwork. Even if it wasn’t beyond saving, she decides if they were of any importance they would have been transported to the council hall, not left to rot - but alas, that’s not her call to make. So she begins to grab and stack them on the desk they’d come from, idly checking the fronts and backs to see if anything is legible.
The pools of water she tackles with a push broom (which Brit has definitely done in Washington flooding) toward the opening in the wall and directs the fires in the sconces with her magic to help dry up the smaller areas.
- - -
Ru picks the puddles and papers.
Painful lust Two aching guts
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.
Iskra exhales heavily as the sentient (is it sentient? or just, not not sentient?) snow deconstructs. Goose pokes his head in, the nest thoroughly demolished, tilting it as he looks at the scene and goes back to gnawing on the wooden sticks left over. Iskra leans down to grab his axe, wiping it on his pants and reholstering it on his belt.
He glances around as Hotaru gets to work and seeing her take the lead on the task he didn't want anyway, he reaches to grab the hole-fixing materials previously used. Some scraps of wooden planks and shining nails. Maybe a hammer too, but Iskra settles for the back end of his axe, more accustomed to the tool in his hand. He kneels, uncaring of the grime at this point, and gets to work closing them up. He wonders quietly why they aren't patching holes with stone and cement; perhaps there's a magical aspect he's unaware of, being no craftsman. Still, it doesn't seem like something's fixed just because it's covered up, and if he was going to escape, he'd certainly find the patchwork of nailed holes first. "What got this place so bad?" he asks aloud to either of them as he hammers (axes?) away. He wonders if he'll get the answer he expects - war.
They attended to their tasks; steady and certain, with less issues in the wake of the office. While Deimos persisted in placing wooden boards and beams over the hole, eventually to cover it with more formidable traces, he tilted his head at Iskra’s inquiry. He had his theories, and they persisted in the echoes of rumbles and grime. “Time, and the war, most likely. There were dragons and banshees here.” From what he’d been told by the Valkyrie and Evergreen alike; each with their own terrifying and ridiculous twists.
Iskra worked along his own techniques, and with Goose occupied, would find the newfound holes compliant without any difficulty. Hotaru too would be able to snag at soggy, wet paper, and in her diligent search, she’d discover some visitation log from some years ago (a distinct ‘-an with Ne’ before it faded into obscurity and running ink, and then a mishmash of doodles of ningos, and maybe cannibals on another).
The pools of water, rampaging under the hole Deimos was currently repairing, however, didn’t quite make it, and the Sword arched his brow at those efforts. With a sweep of his hand, the elements contorted away, and they were left with piles of stuff and things. “Well, we can go through these,” gesturing towards the variety of papers (soon to be either shredded or burnt, unless someone else found them useful), chairs, desks, and office supplies. “If they are not worth salvaging, we can move them out front.” To be collected and diminished.
--
Holes have been patched, papers have been picked up, and puddles rendered gone. Pick a new task!
- Clean out the desk
- Decide what to do with the papers
- Inspect the furniture
Deimos will take whatever’s last! No post order!
we exhume our enemy's bones we are battling, hungry beasts
Iskra peered over his shoulder as Deimos responded, the heads of nails jutting out from between his teeth. Talkative fellow, the Warden, Iskra noted. "Dragons?" Iskra swore, the words muffled around the metal in his mouth. He was around for the war, but not on the front lines, and it was all a bit of a haze. The idea of dragons was definitely terrifying. "Did you take any down?"
Finishing up Iskra got to his feet and hung his trusty axe back on his belt. He pulled the remaining nails from his lips and stuffed them back with the rest as Deimos rattled off their next list of tasks. Iskra reached up and stretched, glancing around at what was left and admiring, with a touch of pride, what they had accomplished. "Don't forget we got that weird nest in the storage room too," Iskra remarked as he headed back to that room to pull out the few tables he'd found in there, intending to join them with the rest to make the effort more seamless. As he did he carefully gripped each one and rocked it, testing the stability. One was worthwhile and he grunted as he slid it across the freshly cleaned and dried floor. The other cracked beneath the attempt, its legs and bottom poor. Iskra could break it down for kindling if need be, but for now, he moved on to inspecting the other tables in the office.
Ru’s shoulders and spine stiffen the moment the dragons are mentioned. Fire and ice, Flora’s sudden screaming, Enzo - she shakes herself, Iskra’s voice bringing her back. And it’s far from his fault, but her voice is hard when she interjects, answering in Deimos’ stead. “Yes. Sah and I killed the one that landed in the streets.” Though it had been in the residential sector of the Citadel, there had been so many fleeing dragons that she wouldn’t be surprised if the jail had indeed been touched by their terrified journey away from the wreckage.
Though she’d been the one to interject, it’s clear by the hard line of her body and the way she keeps her back to both men that she won’t be doing so again. Even the scrawled note she finds only prompts a small twitch of her lips (and she perhaps pockets it to show Deimos later).
Given she is already at the desk, she begins to clean and organize it, using damp rags and plenty of cleaning solution once everything has been taken out from within. Only once it is shined up to her satisfaction will she begin putting away all the items where they belong - only far neater.
- - -
Ru cleans the desk!
Painful lust Two aching guts
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.
Deimos regretted the simplicity of the truth moments after uttering it, glancing Ru’s way as she stiffened, and then he began sorting through the papers, drying them as best he could with the Air incantations holstered beneath his skin. “Not here – I had to fight at the Draig,” and that was some other inherent shame, for not being there to take care of the world he served. A peculiar mixture, given how many had been saved due to their actions against onslaughts of dragons and ghostly demigods alike, but it always hastened a little taut through his spine, and since the Valkyrie drew to silence, so did he. Save for the grunt of recognition at Iskra’s insistence; the Sword hadn’t forgotten.
Iskra would be fully capable of maneuvering furniture, though it wouldn’t come without a cost. Some weakened portions of an old desk completely fell apart, the wooden legs bending and breaking underneath additional pressure, wear and tear, and probably would only serve further use in a burn pile. Others were fine though, and could be rearranged easily to be suitable for some incoming jail ward.
Hotaru, thorough and meticulous in her own wit and measures, would be able to clean and shine and buff to perfection – and when putting things away, find an assortment of keys. Likely to anything within the vicinity – the cells, the storage, and whatever other nooks and crannies presided.
Arching a brow, and taking one more look as he tossed some other documents of artistic relish into things destined to be ash, his rumble began again. “This looks good. Well done.” Rolling his shoulders, he studied the furniture remaining. “We can rearrange these, and then head to the storage room.”
--
Some of Iskra’s furniture broke and had to be moved to a burn pile. Ru has found some keys!
Time to rearrange some furniture! No post order!
we exhume our enemy's bones we are battling, hungry beasts
Both tended to be the strong silent type, focused on their work and shaken by past nightmares, Iskra noted. A wiser man might have shut up at the way Hotaru responded, and the manner in which both of them seemed to change at the mention of it all, their minds likely teleporting them to some horrors Iskra was blessed not to share due to ignorance and laziness. He scratched at the back of his head, cautious, but not wise.
"It is impressive," he says carefully. "Your feats and your commitments. It is no easy task to face such perils, many lesser beings would not bother."
He lets the matter rest as he gets to work, the dragons' shadow blocking out his warning to them both about the mysterious nest found earlier as neither registers it. He supposes after dragons, what harm could some nest in an old prison really pose? Iskra gets back to the task at hand, setting his shoulders into the desks and chairs, grunting as he shoves his might against them, willing the legs not to get caught in the random nooks in the folds of the ground. Sweat beads along his brow as he works to assemble the furniture into an orderly fashion of what is usable and what is not.
He may yet be cautious yet unwise, but there must be some measure of emotional intelligence, even if he does not know it himself - because while the subject doesn’t drop, he blessedly doesn’t pry. In fact he’s complimentary, which provides Ru an opening she is accustomed to taking; flattery. Turning slightly, she aims a small but no less lovely smile over her shoulder at Iskra.
“Thank you. Though if your axe throwing is any indication, you have - as they say - good bones.” Mirth provides a slight tilt to the corners of her lips, and while much can be speculated about Ru’s use of flirtation as a way to deflect and guard her heart, she never lingers long enough for anyone to do so.
Back to the desk - and the keys that present themselves to her, making intrigue shine in her eyes as she wills down old and painful memories. Hooking them to her waist, she reluctantly resists the urge to go test every single one and instead lends her hands to rearranging the furniture.
- - -
Ru reluctantly helps move furniture but brings the keys on her belt!
Painful lust Two aching guts
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.
Iskra’s statement wasn’t expected – and despite the years behind them after the war, the Sword’s eyes still widened briefly. Glancing downward, and then towards Ru, and fighting off another eyeroll at her response, he managed a low rumble. “Thank you.” Leaving it at that, he assisted in maneuvering the furniture as well.
Eventually, the chairs, desks, and other suitable odds and ends were arranged to their approval. Facets of strength, despite the long day, worked well in their physical statures, and they’d find themselves no worse for wear after all the other events within the office. Brushing his hands and dusting them off, the Sword tilted his head, studying the room one more time. Finding it acceptable and satisfactory, he already began heading out the door, and towards the next, and hopefully final, notions. “We can go to the storage room.”
It was as Iskra had left it before – mostly disarray. The mops, buckets, dust pans, and brooms remained, save for the ones already used, amidst more dirt and dust, and of course, the telltale sign of animals once more – a nest and a hole, and the mystery of whether the creature had returned yet. Giving them another moment of inspection, the Warden laid out the tasks again. “One of us can organize, one can clean, and one can investigate that,” pointing solely in the direction of the aforementioned shelter.
--
The office is complete! Pick your tasks for the storage room:
- Clean up the area
- Organize the cleaning materials and chairs/tables, etc. nearby
- Investigate the elephant in the room ;D
No post order! Deimos will take the last task.
we exhume our enemy's bones we are battling, hungry beasts
Iskra had always considered himself relatively strong, but he was no match for the duo that would face off against dragons and their lands. After running, sweeping, mopping, fighting a snow demon, and now shoving furniture, the simple woodcutter felt he was nearing his limit. He leaned over one of the desks, panting and catching his breath for a moment while Deimos surveyed. It did not take him long though, and the Warden was soon off to another room. Iskra shoved off the desk after a moment of despair, not willing to voice his complaints or appear any weaker before them. He leaned into a long and tall stretch, hoping it might renew some vigor.
Passing by Goose, Iskra scratched at the dog's ears. The beast, satisfied with his carnage of the nest, had settled for a nap. The urge to lie down and curl up with him was strong, but Iskra continued on, stepping into the storage room once more as Deimos gave them another to-do list. So they had remembered the mysterious nest here. They'd likely been too involved in their work when Iskra mentioned it, a pointless reminder amongst others, not necessary of notice.
Still having no clue what the nest was, Iskra left that for one of them and their wider experiences. Having already struggled to clean this room once, Iskra also didn't rush to get back into that battle again. Also given his waning endurance, he quickly took the opportunity to select what he figured was the easiest job - organizing. He had to do some manner of this naturally in order to best bundle and stack the wood he chopped, and well he liked a clean house as much as anyone. Wordlessly now, a bit mindlessly even, he began to collect and redistribute the odds and ends of the room in a meaningful and efficient way.
Iskra's fatigue is blatantly evident, but instead of judging him for it Hotaru merely finds an excuse to navigate into his space. "May I?" She extends her hand toward him, awaiting his consent before she utilizes her healing magic on him. It seeks out his exhaustion first at her command, the remnants seeping into sore and tired muscles as a secondary measure. Hoping it will help him, the Valkyrie bestows upon him a lovely smile before she returns to her own duties.
"Thank you for volunteering yourself Deimos," she responds with sugar-sweet primness. She's already working around Iskra, so whatever elephant is in the room can sink its proverbial teeth into the bulkiest among them. Hotaru meanwhile will more than happily keep her nose out of it (rare of her, truly) and provide some elbow grease to shine up the space.
- - -
Ru heals Iskra's fatigue, cleans, and throws Deimos under the bus for the shelter!
Painful lust Two aching guts
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.
Accompanying the “volunteering” with nothing more than an eyeroll, the Sword sauntered towards the back, striving to investigate the nest. It seemed similar in structure to many he’d already seen time and time again, and with another long-suffering sigh for the cause, realized it was yet another accordance of ningo. “Ridiculous birds,” he muttered to himself, already closing up the little hole it’d clearly strutted around in.
After Hotaru tended to Iskra’s exhaustion and fatigue, the Valkyrie began to clean in earnest. The grime came away easier now, without puddles forming everywhere, but she wouldn’t be alone in her attempts. The aforementioned ningo strutted out, showing itself, and cooed softly at the woman, completely unaware of any prior troubles or tribulations with its own ilk.
Iskra, quieter now as the day grew longer, would find the organizing easy – buckets here and there, stacked neatly, efficiently, and looking far better than it had when they’d first arrived. Though one layer of mops and brooms did fall, but it likely wouldn’t take long to fix.
--
Deimos has closed and patched over another hole.
Hotaru’s cleaning has been interrupted by, surprise, another ningo.
Most of Iskra’s work has been done well, save for the mop/broom spill.
Should be last round – no post order!
we exhume our enemy's bones we are battling, hungry beasts
He wasn't quite sure what Hotaru was asking when she approached, but Iskra only paused and nodded, her intentions seeming well. If he had expected her to pitch in her elbow grease however, it came in a different bottle. Relief flowed through him with an odd tingling sensation, and with it slow realization lit his eyes and turned his mouth into an "o". "I should keep you around more often," Iskra said jokingly as he rolled his neck and shoulders, the tightness of tired muscles subsided.
As he continued his work, Deimos' muttering caused Iskra to turn, curious at the bird plague. In that moment his carefully piled buckets toppled. Iskra tried to reach out for them, but only seemed to shove them into further disarray. Cursing under his breath he plucked them from the floor and began to reassemble them. Given the commotion, but also the cooing nose, Goose poked his head around the corner from the other room. The moment he spied the bird strutting around his hackles lifted and an accusing bark rumbled from his chest. The dog burst forward with surprising speed, fully intent on snapping the ningo in his mouth. "GOOSE!" Iskra bellowed as the dog blew past him, threatening to knock the buckets over yet again, which left Iskra using every available limb to hold them back and in arrangement.
Ru titters her amusement and waves away Iskra’s comment, humored by both his subtle gratitude and the mere idea of ever being kept around as some sort of walking med-pack. He’s cute, but not that cute.
Returning to her duties, Hotaru doesn’t see the ningo until after Goose does, startled by the abrupt clatter of nails on stone and excessive, raucous barking that is immediately joined by Iskra’s shouting. Her hand extends towards Iskra, air coalescing around him to assist with not dropping any of the buckets while she storms over to both dog and bird.
“Kill it or leave it!” she commands, the guttural reverb of mountain lion in her tone as her pupils narrow. And if that primordial command isn’t enough, maybe her magic will be - the second her hand touches Goose, her compulsion takes hold. If he’s not within reach he’ll scare the bird away; otherwise he’d better make his kill quick lest he lose out on his prize.
Painful lust Two aching guts
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.
