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!
'Ugh, Phoebe is gone again?' Caring only insofar as Phoebe was absolutely one of the demi-god relations she liked to throw around when it suited her, the Doubletake sighed and gave her head a little shake. "Probably off doing some Frey garbage again, huh?" That was normally the reason, and though Phoebe was only an 'aunt' to her insofar as Remi and Ronin were concerned and thus not nearly as affected by her disappearances as her son or former husband would be, still she could understand how disrupting it must feel.
"And their dad." Flora agrees, before tossing her hands theatrically into the air. "Well you'd think so, wouldn't you? But no. I told him about Harper and he said he needed to tHinK abOut It, and wanted me to prove myself?? And when I said he needed to prove why he should lead, he said some nonsense about how I always make everything a fight with him and left." Which, you know, was absolutely true.
As for a potential coup?
"I mean...I think the only reason to work together is that I don't know shit about the merkingdom or the merfolk. Honestly, I sort of wonder if it wouldn't be better just to like...split things up. We didn't have all these problems back when Torchline was just the above-ground stuff, you know?"
i scream for whatever it's worth "i love you" ain't that the worst thing you've ever heard?
Melita had long since started tossing hers too, indifferent if she hit the basket or not. Instead, she was rapt at listening to the political upheavals, dramatics, and gossip, eyes continued to be wide and baffled by each turn of events. Harper feeling useless (when he could’ve y’know, do something) caused a snort, leadership roles, and then the state of Hadama and his notions sent her gaze straight back to Flora’s narration.
Phoebe fucking off was a regular occurrence, so that scarcely bothered or rankled, but her head tilted at aspects of their Mer King’s decisions – or lack thereof. She’d considered the man a friend, but hadn’t spoken to him in a while, uncertain where the lines had been drawn. “How are you supposed to prove yourself?” She’d already strived to take it on initially – were they all going to be subjected to tests now? Especially when they needed someone to take Harper’s place, and she doubted, many of them wanted to in the first place.
The other idea sparked something of a laugh through her chest, and she threw another volcanic stone. “Back to the way it used to be?”
Pay a little more attention to the healing power of incandescent rage
I'll breathe you in like smoke in the backyard light We used to laugh til we choked, into the wasted nights
Jude shrugs helplessly. “That’s usually what it is,” he admits wryly. He’s gotten used to the comings and goings, having to learn from a young age not to hold it against her. Whether that was a healthy thing to learn, well…
“I mean…he didn’t have to prove himself, right?” He isn’t going to pick up a pitchfork (trident?) immediately, but it seems really unfair - and mildly sexist, which he hopes isn’t true - for Hadama to require it of Flora and not even defend his own ascension to the role.
Jude was born here and has still never been to the kingdom beneath the waves, so while he's the only one visibly sheepish about it, he can't exactly say Flora's wrong. He thinks maybe that's Flora's superpower - always being right, but leaving you impotently mad about it. He envies it a little. "Most of the Mer aside from Hadama don't even seem to want anything to do with us," Jude mumbles. Likely a side effect of being a mere legend to the land population until rather recently, but efforts to unite the races had fallen rather flat. "We're not visiting down there, sure, but they're not visiting up here either." So maybe Hadama would be open to the idea of splitting the ruling again?
It was the best time of my life, but now I sleep alone So please don't wake me up, 'cause my thrill is gone
Rolling her eyes, Flora can only shrug. "Who knows? But like, at this point, just wanting it feels like enough. No one seems to care about Torchline anymore. Not even people who live here." Snorting under her breath if only because she absolutely appreciated the dig at Hadama, Flora shakes her head in agreement. "No, but...I mean, I guess Safrin appointed him or whatever."
As for the air-breathing merfolk divide? "I dunno, maybe I'm an asshole for saying so, but I guess I just don't see it as a problem? We have the canals so that they can come up if they want, and we can go down, but I don't know why we have to pretend that just because we live near one another that we're like...all in it together. Really, they're as far down as Stormbreak is up and we're happy to let them do their own thing." Again, Flora shrugs.
"I think we just made a big deal out of the merfolk for nothing. If they want stuff, we can be accommodating but we don't need to bend over backward for stuff no one cares about." She's thinking of the bubble stream as she throws another rock into the basket, before glancing up at the clouds.
"I have my compass, so I can take these back real quick. I think it's probably enough, don't you?"
i scream for whatever it's worth "i love you" ain't that the worst thing you've ever heard?
The banter between youths – the vibrant and vehement – had never been undone. Just forced to reside in quieter manners until now, and Melita chucked another rock while she listened, the back and forth between Mer possibilities and separate kingdoms, of big deals that had resolved or tended to nothing. The focus had been on those beneath, which made sense given who Hadama was, but everything else in between seemed listless, and Torchline had never been made for complacency.
“I think that’s enough for now,” the smuggler agreed, glancing at Flora and Jude, then handing over her portions. Saying and granting naught on the surface for this sudden wake of politics wasn’t new, but there was enough brewing within those trails and traces of thoughts to warrant some manner of foreboding. “You let me know if you need anything,” she extended to both of them – for Flora, it’d been arsenals and weaponry, and Jude, some manner of shitty advice, probably.
But all in all, their work was done.
{FIN}
Pay a little more attention to the healing power of incandescent rage
