Welcome to Gaia! ::

Well, this was slightly better. It certainly seemed far more sturdy than the room in which Amarus had initially arrived, with the somewhat cranky orientation lady. Even if Amarus still thought she was kind of attractive (probably just because she liked power, and War had a lot of that, really). Amarus strolled around one of the comfortable-looking platforms and leaned over the edge, looking down as far as she could.

It was still a very, very long drop.

The canopy smelled kind of nice, up here, and she leaned away from the edge again as she realized she was getting kind of sleepy because of how relaxing it was. Heights, she was pleased to note, really didn't bother her; it was just that the building before had been so unstable...

Amarus looked behind her, to the free space, and wondered if her classmates were fine with the heights as well. Good thing Faustus wasn't here, what with the fire and all, though. What did they do about fire, with so much of their homes and area up in the tree canopies?

"Well, that's pretty," she mumbled, as she noticed that there was an image depicting several clan members who seemed to be... decapitating humans. Altogether wholesome, of course. A group-fun activity. The gore didn't really bother her, though.

Somehow having managed the trip to the top, the Púca now stood awkwardly amongst the greenery, not quite sure how to stand, sit, prance, or just... move without accidentally casting himself over the edge and falling the long way down. Sliding his feet along the floorboards in a way that couldn't be really considered walking so much as inching along, Fallow found himself admiring the open aired area; it was certainly much prettier once one got to the top of it, he decided, his neon speckled tail swaying back and forth. Coming upon one of the rickety wooden bridges, Fallow sighed and danced at the edge for a moment before taking a precarious step onto it and beginning to cross.

Halfway through, the awkward fear of falling seemed to melt though as his senses opened up, and the Púca became keenly aware of the sound, the smell, the nature of this place. It was all very... hnn, nice. Maybe. Entering one of the open-roofed areas, Fallow was surprised to find it already occupied, but aaah, since when were new meetings bad things? Keening softly as if to announce a presence already made by his bright, neon-glowing ears and dark skin, the Púca nearly pranced nearer to Mort and Amarus, barely containing the nervous excitement that came from things like this.

"Hmmhello." He said to the two, straightening himself slightly, ears pricked like neon beacons. The girl seemed familiar from Conquest, but he couldn't place a name. The man though... well, he wasn't sure who he was yet. Turning his attention between the two, the Púca smiled, a carnivorous and toothy grin. "I hope I am not - ah - interrupting anything, hmmmm."

The Púca's attention drew away for a moment though, to a fireplace littered with burnt remains. He could just barely make out the sight of something - a map drawn onto one of the still burning pieces - but ahh, it made no sense to him. Not when he barely knew his way around this place as it was. Still, his interest piqued for a moment, and the Púca nearly danced nearer, but his attention was severed and yanked back towards the two others instead. He would wait. Had to. Manners, after all, right?

Mort's eyes darted between the hungry-looking birds and the newcomers, still close to Amarus - she seemed to be in one of her trances again, so he had to make sure something didn't happen to her before she came out of it. "Not really, no. Just trying not fall to second-death," the zomboil replied, hearing the distant wingbeats of the clansmen Clyde could see as they exited into a portal. "Exploring sorta, see what lies in trees. Not used being very high up, see . . ."

"Sup Fallow, and a pleasure to meet you Amarus." Clyde re-did his greeting. Trying to be a bit more relaxed even with this ridiculous feeling that he would fall off any minute. His moments ended up looking rather stiff and uncomfortable as he tried to move in a bit closer to the group. "Name's Clyde, and yea, the potential fall doesn't seem pleasant. More like horrifyingly deadly in my opinion."

He edged over towards Mort, "So, what's your name?"

Distracted from his staring by another person, Fallow was quickly pleased to see it was the same boy from their lassoing class earlier. "Oh." He rumbled, his voice gravely and warm, "hello again." His tail swished back and forth in mild pleasure. "I do hope you - ahh - made it up alright."

Eyes darting back to Mort, Fallow smiled and tried not to make it into one that looked like a carnivores. It was safe to say that he mostly failed. "That would be good. I think we would not make pretty decorations on the forest floor below." He shrugged a shoulder and grinned, glancing out towards the rails that stopped them from a sheer drop to the greenery below. Turning his eyes back to Mort though, the Púca couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, you are not - ah, what do they call it? - afraid of heights, are you? That would not be good. But do not worry, I will try and make sure you do not - hmmnn - fall." Twisting an ear, the Púca blinked owlishly. "Oh, I am Fallow, by the way." He said softly, in amusement. "It is a pleasure."

Blinking when Amarus went over and rummaged in the fireplace, Fallow followed her slightly, sliding his feet across the ground but never letting his bare skin leave it. What an interesting girl. "Oh, yes. Thank you." He rumbled, his dark fingers reaching out to touch the bits of the map retrieved. In mindless pleasure, his markings pulsed a bright neon blue-green. The lines made no sense to him, only showing shattered pieces of a place he'd never been. Still, they were fascinating, but not so fascinating as - oh.

Fallow's ears pierced upwards at the sound of her bells ringing, and Púca's head lifted to stare at them and the glow that Amarus herself emitted. A purr ruptured in his throat, deep and pleased. They were like two neon bright bulbs, and he did not mind it in the least. Reaching out, his fingers absently touched one of the bells before dropping, and he rolled back onto the balls of his feet, smiling at the girl. "Hello, Amarus." He rumbled. "You were - ah, - the girl who set fires in Conquest, were you not?" He tilted his head, vaguely remembering her colors from somewhere else. Perhaps he was wrong though, and he did not linger on the memory when she spoke again.

"Hmmmm. I am not so worried about the fall as I am about the landing." He rumbled in response. "That is the part that would hurt." Grinning over at Clyde when he was addressed again, he nodded in warmth. "Hellohello." Trotting nearer to Mort, the Púca bent and examined the flock. "Perhaps it is a fanbase." He mused to the other boil instead. "They seem rather - hmm - devoted to you."

It was a tease, one more fit for a friendship he didn't have with the undead. But since when was Fallow one to wait around?

Aurian was exploring, following from class and her own personal training. Making her way through the canopy was hard - elevators had been rigged for the students, but they were only in a few places. There were buildings in the threes that didn't have them and Aurian didn't know if they were all personal homes or if she was missing out of something important or exciting by not being able to reach them.

The faint sound of voices reached her. Aurian followed after them. If they were students, they could explore together. If they were Horsewomen, Aurian could see if they minded her asking (lots of) questions about their city.

Aurian climbed up a series of wooden ladders, each more precarious than the last. When she reached the top, she found herself in an open room of some kind with 360 degree views and a very large bed in the middle. There were also several fellow students there already.

"Hello!" she chirped as she dragged herself up completely into the structure. "I like this place you've found."

She recognised a few of the students from class, but hadn't had time to introduce herself to all of them. "I'm Aurian. Nice to meet you all."

Aurian stayed close to the flimsy barrier that acted like a fence or short wall around the outside of the room. In the distance, she could see a group of War clanswomen flying off to a faraway portal. They seemed heavily armed. Aurian frowned. Were they at war with someone, or was this just an advanced form of training?

Amarus nodded towards Clyde, acknowledging his introduction. "It's only a death for half of us," Amarus ammended his statement. Mort was undead, and Amarus was a ghost, so... well. There wasn't a whole lot of dying left for either of them.

"WINGS, Mort?" Amarus turned to face him, her bells jingling loudly. She was suddenly very excited. "Can I help? How far along with the design are you? ... wait, that was a stupid offer, we both know I'm awful with tech..." Amarus sighed, her dreams deflating. Thinking of that, though, she remembered how Mort was really excited about the clansmen and his new brain. She was trying to think of an opening to give him so he could tell the story again. Mostly because it was really cute, and she liked seeing him happy.

As the glowing boil reached out and touched her bells, Amarus appeared to stiffen slightly, but she didn't recoil. Her expression remained neutral, her silver eyes blank. The mask of calm broke, however, as he asked if she was the one who set the fires. "...one of three or four," she admitted. "I don't think Conquest will ever let me back."

The glowing boil didn't seem so bad. Fallow, right? At least he seemed to have a sense of humour. "I don't think we met; were you at the Conquest isle all of last week...?" How had she never met him? She'd been out to all three locations, and trained nearly religiously with the adaras. Maybe their schedules hadn't really overlapped.

Amarus stared at Clyde and the attempt to scare the birds away. She didn't like that everyone was joking about the birds devouring Mort. In fact, she was getting pretty protective. She walked over to them and shook her bells at the birds; nothing was so horrendous as that, at this moment, to their avian senses. Hopefully they would leave, now.

Amarus also saw the horsemen flying off into a portal, as Aurian approached. She shook her head to shrug off the vision, and offered Aurian a half smile. "Vaith's friend, right? I remember you from class! I'm Amarus."

Aurian returned the other ghoul's smile. She was glad to at least recognise the others from class, or it might have been more awkward. As it was, it was hard to be stand-offish around people who'd lasso-ed, and been lasso-ed by, you.

"Hi, Amarus. I'm glad we finally have some quiet time for introductions. It was a bit busy in class." It had been fun, there was no doubt about that. But it hadn't left much time for people to learn who they were playing about with. Aurian was glad for the down-time.

She noticed the other ghoul also watching the Clanspeople fly off. "Where do you suppose they're going?" she asked Amarus.

Aurian waved at the boil who introduced himself. "Hello! Sure, Mort is fine. They're both nice names, but whatever you prefer." Aurian was all about whatever suited other people best.

She chuckled and looked back at the ladder that swung slightly in the breeze. The room followed suit, to a lesser degree. It was kind of like being on a boat with the waves moving under you, Aurian thought, but slower. "Yeah, I see what you mean. It could be worse, though. This is just a little wind. You don't want to try boats - they're wind and crashing waves, and no ground to escape back down to at all."

Why yes, Aurian was still traumatised by Redd's boat trip last year.

To distract herself, she walked around the room, glancing at the different items on display. She passed by a wall that held a painting. Bright red blood caught Aurian's attention. Turning to the painting, she stared at the gruesome scene: several Clanswomen, wings marking them as part of War, decapitating what Aurian hoped were humans. (The other option was Reapers with no obvious weapons or familiars, and Aurian didn't want to think it could be that.)

"Well," she said, rocking back on her heels. "I guess we know the War clan thinks of humans." Hopefully they had a different opinion on the citizens of Amityville.





61 - 80: You notice a single painting in the room, featuring a rather bloody, but illustrative, depiction of several Clan members of war cutting off the heads of what look like humans.