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!
Strange as it may seem horror loses its power to frighten
Nothing is more boring than being bored. And nothing bored Nysa more than doing chores. "Obnoxious, insipid, mind-numbing, boring, time-wasting, kill-joy, tedious," she muttered while making her slow meandering way from the market place and towards the more uptight and official quarters where the royalty lived and worked. Biting off each word like an insult, the mermaid dragged along a huge basket full of nippers and bribes gifts her mother had put together for the head of staff so they would actually agree to a meeting. The only fun she was to have was spreading bubbles and watching the raised brows of anyone who heard her tirade as she passed.
"Dull, monotonous, stupid, uninteresting, boring - damn, said that already. Uhm..."
She'd never met the king before. Or any of the staff that surrounded him. Course, she was only supposed to be talking to a secretary or such now, to apply for a job. And deliver a message from her dad. She didn't want to, really, but there had been so much sighing and testy tones at home lately and if they insisted then it was far less bothersome to do as she was told than listen to her mother whine about everything the neighbors son had accomplished already. Honestly. As if she would ever bother with something as boring as mercantile. Talking to mouth-breathers and going back and forth to the surface all the time, what was the fun in that? Funny looking two-legs, not good for anything - she'd never ever get herself involved with those, and that's final.
So she thought, while muttering, and half looking for any excuse to be late. Oh handsome rogue with your soul-bonded encantado, where are you to disrupt her normal, boring, unchanging everyday life? (Said the magical mermaid in her enchanted underwater city.)
Hadama had spent a long day out on the reef with his rangers, inspecting the coral and the plants where the voidshell tumseas had passed. He knew little enough about coral and aquaculture, but as king it was still his duty to survey the damage and listen to the recommendations of his people who did know about it. By evening he would have to send the orders out for the farmers, fishers, and hunters to root out any corals and associated sea life too corrupt to recover, whenever they came across them.
The reef was healthy enough to survive some pruning now, but the long term effects of continuing to do so weighed heavily on his mind as he swam slowly past the marketplace and towards the palace, lost in thought. He could have aquaported back, but he wanted time to think, and the swim had done him some good.
He moved with grace through the water, the broad wings that spread from his shoulders stroking with a quiet strength through the currents. He wore a simple harness over his chest for attaching smaller bags and nets to, and holding tools that he found useful. Three things set him apart from most other Merfolk, however: the golden tattoos that covered his scars on the brown skin of his torso and the black scales of his manta half; the fine jewelry that he wore at ears and neck and wrists, including the silver armlet around one thick bicep; and the trident made of coral of starlight that he carried across his back within the peaceful fathoms of the city.
The shortest route from the direction he was coming from was through the back door of the palace, but as he neared his destination his path was partially blocked by the long curling legs of an octopus Mer and Hadama slowed as he approached her. Your pardon, he murmured, arching his muscular frame up and over her before noting the burden she carried. Would you like help with that?
Strange as it may seem horror loses its power to frighten
The kind of self-absorption Nysa engaged in was of the kind that made you oblivious to things around you. Turning vibrant surroundings into a gray blur and the existence of others into blank nothings that passed by in monotonous sameness, it took the literal blocking out of any light that could shine down upon her for the young mermaid to realize she was in the way.
"Oh!" Her little squeal of surprise was mental and vocal in equal measure. Coiling tentacles darkened into a vibrant crimson of defensive surprise as the whipped around, and she almost inked them both down, which would have been frightfully embarrassing. "You startled me!" she accused him with a hand over the heart, with a little pout she knew to be rather effective on most males. Clever eyes quickly took in the real manta wings and all the glimmering nippers he worse, and the trident poking over the shoulder. Drawing conclusions on who she was talking to, she cursed inwardly and added a fluttering little smile to perfect the image of a clueless waif - blonder than her golden hair might usually warrant.
She wanted to make an impression, and a very specific one at that.
His offer to carry the basket was very gallant, and no more than fair after making her startle like that. "Please, that's so kind of you. Mama always packs in more than necessary, I thought my arms would come off! Did I block your way? I'm terribly sorry, though at least we seem to be going the same way."
Her radiant smile seemed entirely void of thought. It was a masterpiece, if Nyssa did say so herself.
Apologies, he rumbled, inclining his head solemnly at her surprise. Broad wings undulated slowly in the gentle currents of the City, holding him in place as he considered the young woman approaching the Palace. Whether her waifish smile or fluttering lashes had any effect was hard to judge; his expression remained serenely stoic as she plied her wiles.
Her chatter filled his silence, but from the cascade he plucked her acceptance of his offer, and he swam down to take the basket. Emerald eyes glanced over the contents thoughtfully as he hefted the weight and began to swim slowly beside her towards the rear entrance once more. Indeed. Forgive me. I do not recognize you. What brings you to the Palace today? A question that might have held a note of neutral curiosity and genuine courtesy, but otherwise was unmoved by her bright if brainless smile. After a small pause he added, I am Hadama. In case she was a member of one of the wandering Mer clans who rarely came back from their distant currents and might not be familiar with the present rulership.
Strange as it may seem horror loses its power to frighten
Hm. He wasn't melting before her boundless charm, which was a bit disappointing. But Nysa didn't let her mask slip just because of a setback, and he was carrying the basket for her, so all in all she was off to a good start.
The question of what she was up to had been expected; indeed, so was his name - the sparse introduction only confirmed her guess as to whom she was entertaining, and it honestly couldn't have worked out better.
"It is such a pleasure to meet you, Majesty!" she chirped, "My name is Nysadeia - I am sure you know of my parents, they are kelp tenders on the eastern side of the reef. I actually came to meet the head of staff, to see if there is a position open somewhere - nothing that should trouble You, I am sure."
Her hands described elegant gestures as she spoke, slightly exaggerated to enhance the sense of whimsy about her. Drawing the mind to something delicate, something fluttery and helpless - entirely unsuitable for straneous work like harvesting kelp or any other laborious task.
Something nice and cushy is what she wants. Like being a record keeper, maybe, or assistant - anything that would keep her hands smooth and uncalloused. Or, gods forbid, work that made her put on muscle.
Whether or not her charm was boundless, Hadama had been King for several years now, and he was no stranger to beautiful courtiers plying their wiles on him in an attempt to gain favors. He gave Nysadeia the same stoic courtesy that he gave his nobles, neither more nor less. Her constant motion - between hands, octopus arms, and her expressive mouth - drew occasional glances her way as he swam slowly with the basket, careful to go slowly enough that the young woman could easily keep up.
A pleasure to meet you, Nysadeia, he rumbled. After a moment's thought he nodded a slow confirmation that he did, indeed, know her parents. Or at least thought he recalled patrolling the waters around the eastern reef and speaking with a pair of octopi kelp farmers once or twice in the past.
He considered her intentions, and then he considered her mannerisms. Hmm. If she was truly as flighty as she seemed, there would be few enough jobs in the Palace for her. The seneschal was good at weeding out shirkers, and Hadama knew better than to interfere with that worthy Mer's running of the underwater castle since long before his own time as King.
But there were other options...
I can take you to the seneschal, he said slowly, wheels turning behind bright emerald eyes. What are your skills?
Strange as it may seem horror loses its power to frighten
Oh this was too easy. Was the king a fool? Should it really be this effortless to maneuver the leader of her entire people? Nysadeia was shameless by nature but even she had expectations on the rules and honestly Hadama was letting her down right now by playing along with her charade. Not that it would stop her from taking advantage where she could - all she was after was a simple task to shut down the nagging of her parents. Nothing insidious, nothing wrong with doing the bare minimum when life had so much more to offer than schedules.
"Your Majesty is too kind!" she chirped, burying her true thoughts beneath an onslaught of glittering smiles. "It would be an honor. While I don't mean to brag -" bald faced lie, that " - I have been told I have a strong and pleasant singing voice, my memory is very good and I would say I have a good eye for details. Alas, I am not as strong as a kelp tender should be," thank fuck, "and my endurance cannot be compared to even the freshest of warrior recruits, but surely not all work is about physical labor, would you not agree?" Flutter flutter eyelashes; any hint of careful calculation in those blue eyes carefully concealed behind dolphin sweet hope against rejection. "What I really want is to be of use to the people, in whatever capacity I can."
There. That should do the trick, right? Steer any thought away from the sweaty, difficult, over-involved... She was just a little one, to be soothed and reassured. Honestly, she was painting it on a bit thick but it should be fine when dealing with this one.
He did not react to her glittering smiles or bright eyes except to give her request for work solemn consideration. Neither did he seem put off by her aggressive charm and bubbleheaded facade, simply taking her as she came. Perhaps she would get the sense that he would have given her mother or grandfather the same serious thought and assistance.
Or perhaps not.
He listened to her list of strengths and weaknesses without comment, but there was a thoughtful cast to his expression. He did not agree with her when she fluttered her lashes at him, but he did tilt his head in acknowledgment that he had heard her.
Hmm. The court historians are not currently accepting apprentices, he informed her slowly. Have you approached the bards out in the city to see if one will take you on?
Strange as it may seem horror loses its power to frighten
It was all going so well. She got an escort, didn't have to carry the bloody basket, would be introduced to the seneschal or whatever it was called by the king which had to be the same thing as a ticket to a quick employment procedure and an end to all the fuss -
- but that all changed when the majesty suddenly dropped a figurative meteor in her peaceful sea. Nysa stopped abruptly and her glittering, fluttering smile vanished like a school of fish before a shark sighting. The disappointment was very obvious and actually entirely genuine.
"Oh." Even her voice had gone flat; chalky gray color like seafloor gravel spread over her tentacles and stole away all her vibrancy. "No. This was my first stop." Sure, she had been coaxed into coming in the first place. Sure, it hadn't been entirely her own idea to try for the historians - it had mostly just been appealing because it didn't involve any physical labor - but somewhere along the way she had still managed to get attached to the vision of herself within that context. And now they weren't hiring?
That sucked. This sucks.
"Guess I don't need to go to the palace after all, then." Long tentacles curled about themselves, making no effort to hide the petulant deflation now that she had lost all reason to curry favor.
It was, he understood, a challenge for octopus-based Mer to control their coloring so that they didn't broadcast their emotions across their skin. Some never learned to do it, while others were masters of the art, and could consciously control every chromatophore in dizzying patterns of skin-art that other Mer could only envy. Which category young Nysadeia fell into was still unknown to him, however, and though he noted the greying of her tentacles and the disappointment in her voice. He paused, tilting his broad manta wings to bring him to a halt as he turned to face her, considering her reaction to the news.
Are there other positions you would accept? If the historians were truly the only arm of the palace staff that interested her, there was little that could be done. Though her bubble-headed demeanor did not encourage him that she would be a good fit for their ranks. It was a serious task, maintaining the oral histories of their people. True, much was inscribed in shell and stone, but the ocean wore away all things in time. With the oral histories to compare the written records to the writings could be renewed, and stored where they could be safely preserved; only accessed on truly important occasions when the oral histories needed to be confirmed.
That was not to say that the historians were all a solemn lot; they were each skilled bards in their own right, many with the charisma and outgoing natures natural to the profession. But they were, one and all, carriers of a sacred trust for their people.
The ease with which Nysadeia gave up on joining their ranks did not reassure Hadama that she would be a good match for their number.
However, that was not the only job in the palace that might be found for a young woman of delicate sensibilities. A gleam came into Hadama's emerald eyes that, if one who knew him well had seen it, would have boded interesting times ahead for the one it was turned on.
Strange as it may seem horror loses its power to frighten
Any other position? Tentacles drifting upon the current, the young mermaid considered.
"I mean... probably? I'll have to, won't I, because I need work or my parents will kick me out," she replied, the precious so chipper voice gone flat and disinterested. "Doesn't have to be the palace anymore though, the historians were the only ones I felt any which way about."
It was quite remarkable how her demeanor changed as soon as there wasn't anything in it for her anymore. Mouth breathers held mer for fickle and mercurial beings, and Nysadeia embodied that nature to a very high degree.
She actually did attempt to summon some kind of enthusiasm. Entirely visual, as if trying to drag the high spirited crimson back up through the tentacles; alas, only the tips colored before fading back to the gray of obscurity, as she cocked a brow at the King. "Why? You got any suggestions?" She didn't really want to hear them, but then she didn't want to work either, or leave her comfy room with all her pretty things.
Out of all the evils surrounding her right now, she was willing to at least listen to the ones that helped her save face. Looking good would always be a top priority.
Hmm. Hadama considered the defeated young Mer on his doorstep, trying to remember what it had been like to be her age, with all the world against him. She was... what? Seventeen, perhaps? Not more than eighteen, if he were to guess from her mannerisms and attitude. Swimming against the current that her parents had defined for her.
Not quite a child. Not yet an adult.
There were many directions her life could go. Many doors still open to her. The more he saw, the more of a conundrum she became. She was as mercurial and as quick to change direction as one of the small, brightly colored reef fish, though her own colors were currently faded and grey.
Mmh. Would you consider being a lady's maid? Attendant on a noble of the court? Despite the name, most of the truly difficult work such as laundry, cooking, and cleaning could be passed along to the general palace serving staff. The position held its own responsibilities, however, and a certain attention to detail and attitude the young octopus might not yet possess.
Strange as it may seem horror loses its power to frighten
The title didn't mean much and her first instinct was to wrinkle her nose in disdain. Catering to the whims and fancies of some court fop seemed annoying, especially if that someone was anything like herself. Nysa was at least self aware enough to realize what a handful she could be - even if it didn't do much to encourage change. Why mess with perfection?
"Depends," she replied with blunt honesty. "Wait on just one person or whomever?" Not sure which would be preferable, she scowled in the direction of the Palace, slowly starting forward again. What did it take to be a courtier? Birthright? She would much rather be the one to be doted in and cared for. If it required any kind of caring for another, Nysa was sure she didn't have what it took.
The wrinkle of her nose was indication enough of what she thought of his idea but Hadama waited for the final decision before he discarded it completely. He floated at ease in the water, carrying the basket effortlessly, though he began to look towards the palace and calculate his schedule for the rest of the day as Nysadeia debated.
The honesty was refreshing, as was the willingness to at least consider the option. It might have just been a precursor to an excuse to turn it down, but Hadama inclined his head to her gravely as they began to swim again. One person, he confirmed. Indeed, one person in particular that he had in mind... Though the two women would either strike sparks off each other no matter how deep the water, or else they would join forces and soon rule the court regardless of who held the throne.
Hadama glanced over his shoulder a the young octomaid as they approached the arch that led into the rear of the palace. Her name is Andromeda.
