From Attuned to Ascended to Ancient, Kiada Njovu-Reyes has been reborn several times throughout her short life, but her fighting spirit has never once been diminished. With beauty, grace and a quick wit, Kiada is the whole package wrapped in an infectious smile. Recent endeavours have found her in the heart of the Hollowed Grounds, aiding the region and bettering it for her new Ancient kin, and whatever she does next, we know it's sure to pack a punch.
Congratulations, Kiada!
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!
"Perhaps I will be able to help with that, too," Amhran chimes to her with an easy smile. He means healing, of course, and at the mere mention of it a soft breeze seems to pick up around them, injecting the room with something cleansing and pure. Neither of them particularly need healing, or so he thinks, but just in case, they should be feeling even better now.
Drowning he understands if only from Evie's conversations with herself her plants in the greenhouse, and he knows well the balance between too much water and not enough. And so, nodding sagely despite understanding nothing about why people might flail through water for fun, Amhran refocuses on the matter of his no longer socked feet.
"They make my roots feel strangled," he tries to explain, but of course he no longer has roots, and the vocabulary of perhaps those socks were too tight isn't available to him just yet, so this will have to do for now. At least, according to his mother, he is presentable enough now to meet Deimos.
"I would like that, yes please," he says.
Amhran used:
Magic: Walk it off | A clean, refreshing breeze whips around Amhran within a 15ft radius. Any ally within range is healed at Amhran's Basic level.
Type: Light | Rank: Basic
"Oh," slips out of her for the second time that day, slightly startled by the pleasant breeze that picks up in the room. It eases the tiniest of aches and irritations, prompting a thoughtless smile of pride as she recognizes the mending magic at its core. "I'm glad, being able to heal myself got me out of a lot of scary situations growing up," she admits with a relieved exhale. By age and curiosity alone she suspects she can't stash him away in the house until he's wise and powerful the way she sometimes wishes to do with Erebos.
"There are other materials that are looser, we'll give those a try later," she assures as she stands, considering the softer wool pairs usually worn over the snug layer beneath. He does have awfully large feet, she muses, though considering his stature it shouldn't be surprising. "Let's go figure out where he's wandered off to."
Opening the door is less daunting now that Amhran is dressed, and she steps over the threshold while lifting her voice, aware Deimos is home but uncertain of the specifics. "Deimos? Honey, there's someone I want you to meet." That's the best preparation she can provide because she can't bear to call Amhran a guest or a visitor when she'd grown him and doted on him for an entire season. Turning over her shoulder she smiles encouragingly, vacating the doorway to naturally shuffle them into the living room. They'd likely want to be sitting for this.
Deimos hadn’t been wandering – in fact, he’d been within the kitchen since Evie had left to tend to the greenhouse wares. An impromptu, but necessary bath had been had for Erebos, and he’d spent multitudes of time fussing over correct temperatures in the small basin within the sink. By that time, the Sword had managed to eventually find a suitable accord, and found the youth’s affinity for water, based on the amount of splashes conjured and liquid sloshed over the countertops and himself. Amused and quartering off Belial from joining in any antics, the baby was eventually quite content, clean, and was in the process of being dried off, when he could hear the Evergreen through the reverberations in their home.
His eyes narrowed suspiciously, because from what he’d known about the unfurling day, they hadn’t had any appointed visitors. Nor was she the type to throw such presumptions upon him without some manner of preparation…so naturally, he grew all the more reserved. “Just a moment,” he answered in return – mildly puzzled. Perhaps it was a surprise or chicanery, so he couldn’t help but snort, wrapping Erebos in his towel (with adorning ursur hood over his head) and holding him tight to his chest as he advanced towards the sound of her voice. “Time to see what your mother has planned,” he whispered, and while Erebos squirmed, his long strides made headway towards the living room.
we exhume our enemy's bones we are battling, hungry beasts
"Yes, knowing how you help others is what spurred me to become what I am," Amhran agrees with an easy nod. And it might even be true - though he is certainly of Rae by nature, Evie has nurtured him all season. Under another's care, perhaps he'd be adept with thorns or poisons, or something else entirely?
Nodding again - gladly at the idea of meeting Deimos, more warily at trying on socks a second time - he dutifully rises to his feet and pads after his mother out into the rest of the house. Resisting the urge to call out a greeting - barely - Amhran follows Evie into the livingroom and takes a seat upon a couch, glancing around with curiosity at the adornments of the Ignatius household.
At the sound of the Sword's arrival he brightens, smiling sunnily towards Deimos and the infant in his arms. "Hello," he trills. "I am called Amhran."
