magitek_elite | For fallen

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kuja

For fallen_stage

The world was recovering, healing. Every day grass grew where there had been none, flowers bloomed and the desolate silence of the World of Ruin was replaced by the laughter of youth and new life. Her part had been small, and had it not been for the companionship of friends and loved ones, this brave, new world would never have had a chance to be.

Mobliz, a village that had degraded into a few rickety shacks, was now a quiet haven of life human and animal. There were still scars of the past, the old homes still sat quietly at the bottom of the flooded river but unlike before they now housed a colourful array of watery critters; tiny fish and slowly-wriggling starfish.

It was Terra's favourite time of day; dusk. The pretty, orange light of the setting sun gave everything a comforting glow. She enjoyed the warmth of those last precious rays of light on her skin as she walked along the moss-covered bank of the river's edge. Her thoughts of simple things; of daily chores that needed doing, of planning her next visit to Figaro and of seeing friends again. After years of struggle, finally she had peace and the quiet, simple sort of happiness she had longed for.

But something stood out against the muted greens and browns of nature. A flash of silver-lilac hair, pale skin and... was that armour? The way it glistened in the light made her think so. Armour evoked so many memories, most of them negative. Her stomach tightened and she thought she could taste something metallic in her mouth. There was no doubt that she hesitated, toying with the idea of turning around and ignoring the outstretched body.

However much she wanted to ignore the figure, her conscious was too strong to let her. Closing the gap between herself and the motionless body she knelt beside them--no him.

She examined him, watching the methodical rise and fall of his chest. He was beautiful - preternaturally so. Terra couldn't think of anyone who looked quite so ethereal as him in her whole life. Angelic in his slumber she wondered how he had got here, had he simply fallen asleep at the water's edge? What a precarious spot to nap.

"Hello?" She spoke to rouse him, her voice soft and small, the breeze threatening to take it away before it reached his ears "You can't sleep here, it's dangerous."

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While Terra might have thought Kuja angelic, he was suffering a private hell. In the midst of the Iifa Tree's tangled vines, Kuja had used most of his magic to get Zidane and his companions out of danger. After fighting two deadly battles, even in Trance, Kuja had been exhausted, physically, mentally, and magically. Technically he didn't have enough magic to teleport himself out, and Kuja had thought he was resigned to his fate; but as the vines grew wild his old stubbornness won out and he had to try teleporting.

Next thing Kuja knew was a blinding, debilitating pain pounding against his skull. He groaned, unable to do more than focus on breathing and quelling the rising nausea. There may have been a voice but Kuja was more concerned with rolling on his side, even that simple movement sending lances of pain through his eyes. At least now he wouldn't have to worry about aspirating his own sick. Joy.

"Wha..." he wheezes at last, before coughing.

Even after all this time Terra still didn't fully comprehend how she felt, so reading someone else's emotions was perhaps harder for her than most. However, there were tells she understood, possibly because of the buried memories of her destructive past. She could spot pain in him; the tensing of his brow and the way his eyelids flickered, the heartbreaking sound that tried to be a word so cruelly punctuated by coughing.

He wasn't sleeping, he was in pain. No, worse - agony.

She hadn't come across this since the traumatic scaling of Kefka's tower and at that time she'd had all the abilities she'd now come to forfeit. For the first time since then she missed those skills, she missed her magic. She had been so content to sacrifice it all for a quiet life that now when presented with a situation like this she almost missed that discarded side of herself.

Part of her wanted to move him, to get him somewhere safer (and warmer, as the sun had almost set completely by this point) but there was no way she could've lifted him and she could only suppose that dragging him would've made things a lot worse.

Leaving him felt like an awful thing to do, but she felt that she had no choice. Determined to help him she stood up, nodding to herself as if agreeing with her own decision, she darted off to the small cottage she called home. It couldn't have been more than five minutes away from the riverbank and at the speed she was running at she'd reach it in three.

Thinking the pain a physical one she returned with the best thing she could think of, a potion. A small, glass bottle filled with a sparkling, healing liquid-cum-gas. Standing over him, trying to catch her breath, she popped the cork and emptied the contents over him.

She hoped it worked, that it didn't make things worse. Terra watched and waited with baited breath.

Edited 2018-02-20 13:01 (UTC)

Kuja's current migraine was a result of overtaxing his magical power beyond its limits, but the potion helped his battered body with the pain enough to rouse him fully. Not trusting himself to sit up just yet, Kuja's eyes fluttered open as he took in his surroundings through the throbbing in his eyes. The light was dim, at least, and warm, indicating twilight; it was too warm for dawn, so it must be dusk. The air was cool, damp, refreshing against his face.

And nearby was a young woman.

"I... Where..?"

A small sigh a relief. He was awake and speaking, two very good signs. Terra supposed that whatever happened must have really taken it out of him, whoever he was. But something didn't seem quite right, if there had been a fight here she most certainly would've heard it. Could it be possible that this man had been hurt and then travelled here? But why Mobliz? Most people thought this place was nothing but a ghost town (and she rather liked it that way).

Regardless, these were all questions that would hopefully be answered later. She wasn't about to bombard him with them after he'd only just woken up.

Uncomfortable standing over him (it seemed intimidating somehow) she returned to the spot beside him kneeling. Perhaps not as close as before, giving him enough space to move if he needed to. Or for her to get out of the way, innocent as she was Terra wasn't quite so naive to think that Kefka's downfall had abolished all violence in the world.

"You're in Mobliz." she said plainly with a passive expression on her face "Did... it help?" she asked, holding up the empty potion bottle "I think I have another one somewhere at home you can have." Not like 'the old days' where she had enough tinctures and potions to heal an army. What need did she have of those things now?

Mobliz, Mobliz... Not that Kuja knew every single town and village on Gaia, but very many, and that name didn't ring a bell. How far off did his botched teleportation spell send him? Several hundred miles, since this wasn't the arid Outer Continent where the Iifa Tree breached the planet's crust. More importantly, Kuja wasn't dead yet and he had a sympathetic local. Anything beyond that could wait.

"I think... I can sit up."

He took a few breaths before attempting it, sliding his elbows under him as he pushed himself up. That's odd... His clothes aren't tattered at all. Did he repair them without meaning to somehow?

"I think... I'm lost."

He was recovering so much faster than Terra had anticipated. Moments after the potion had settled in to do its healing he was already sitting up and managing whole sentences (even if they were somewhat jarred). Whoever this was, they must have had quite the constitution. Perhaps he was strong, a warrior of some sort? The colosseum wasn't that far away and it would explain his... outfit. Perhaps he had fans there who cheered him on, she could imagine an entire audience rooting for someone this handsome.

It was then that she realised that she'd been sitting there, thinking all of this to herself in silence. Had it been so long since she'd spoken with an adult? Or was something else on her mind.

"We get chocobo carriages with food once a week, they could take you to a bigger city if you like? But they're not due for another three days." Terra sympathised with him greatly, she knew what it was like to wake up in unfamiliar territory. "There're a lot of empty places here you can stay until then. Do... you think you can get up?" Should she offer? Would it offend him?

Kuja had been made strong, and all his life he had sought out more strength. That he was so battered was a testament to Zidane and his cohorts, a pitched battle of eight against one. Only then could they hope to defeat him at last. And yet, Garland always maintained Zidane was the stronger... perhaps with Terran development, he could have been. Even without the sort of dedication Kuja had gone through, Zidane held his own in most situations.

But that wasn't relevant right now. Kuja had to get up, had to move, and he wasn't looking forward to walking with his magically induced migraine. Perhaps she knew an inn or something he could lie down. Even somewhere as backwater as to only have a weekly chocobo supply run had to have something like that.

"Not even an airship huh..." Taking a deep breath, he took her up on her offer of help and raised a hand. "If you'll give me your hand; you don't need to pull me up, I just need to hold onto something."

Terra's expression softened at that comment. Considering there had only ever been two airships at the peak of the world's technological era the very thought of one stopping at this sleepy little hamlet seemed impossible, no, amusing. Her amusement gave way to a smile and there was a light, almost playful tone to her voice.

"I don't think an airship would stop here, even for the arrival of our first guest in well... a year probably." She had been the most recent arrival here. But as well-meaning as the comment was, she saw his fatigue and mentally chastised herself for being inappropriate. Now was not the time for comments like that.

Her dainty hand reached out to support his, shifting to crouch from kneeling her second hand went to join it. "I'll try to help you up," she said apologetically "you can lean on me a bit too." She decided that she would be able to support him, regardless of her size, and if there was one thing Terra was it was stubborn.

A year? Were there no nearby villages, or did she live outside even the rural community? Perhaps she was some sort of hermit, or raised by one. Such things did happen even now. No matter. With her help, Kuja managed to get his legs underneath himself then slowly rose, breathing steadily to keep his nausea at bay. True to his word, Kuja didn't lean his considerable weight on her, just pulled a little as he stood.

All right. Step one: standing was complete. Time to attempt walking.

"Well Miss, would you happen to have a place I could rest? Even a barn would do, but an ether would be best, if you can spare one. I can pay you."

Fortunately he still had some odds and ends about his person, even if he had last dressed for battle when he had approached Garland for the final blow. How the gil survived Trance, he won't venture a guess.

Steadying herself she supported him as he stood as much as she could, Terra had held her breath expecting an exponential weight to be placed on her, but in reality he had barely put any strain on her. Her lips pressed together at that, almost pouting. It wasn't that she was disappointed that he hadn't leaned on her but rather that she sensed he was holding back. The feeling passed as quickly as it came and once he was upright she stood beside him, still holding his hand with both of hers, and acutely aware of how much taller he was that her. Terra had to crane her neck to look up at him.

"Don't be silly." she chided him, but without any real venom, it was more like she was scolding a sensitive child "You don't need to rest in a barn, of all things. You can come home with me and I'm sure I can find an ether for you... Although why you'd want that I don't know." Did he mean to sell it? Perhaps magical tinctures like that were fashionable these days?

Terra led him away from the water, offering support if he needed it. She wasn't a particularly chatty young woman and during the walk she thought about where in her little home there may have been an ether.

Terra's cottage had blossomed into a beautiful, little home. The front was a well looked-after garden of wild flowers and edible herbs. The patched-up roof was dotted with two chimneys, one of which hinted at the heat inside with the thin trail of smoke wafting from its tip. The interior was quaint, dotted with small artefacts she had collected during her travels. Ranging from daggers, to treasure maps, to unused magical relics and charms. Inside it smelt of drying herbs, particularly lavender (her favourite).

"You'll have to watch your head." She warned before going inside, noticeably without unlocking the front door.

Kuja frowned at her tone, but decided it unimportant to contest. He didn't feel like arguing, and Kuja supposed he'd laugh over it later, this young woman scolding him although she was clearly the younger party. Kuja was mostly silent during the short walk, taking in his surroundings, even with the pain admiring the quaint prettiness about the house. He should think it obvious why he wanted an ether but perhaps she thought he had been asleep instead of unconscious.

On Gaia there were many people around his height, but not all builds accommodated them, so fortunately Kuja was used to gauging doorways and avoided a bump on the head. Surely it wouldn't damage him much but it might aggravate his migraine. The interior was as cozy as the outside, a comfortable clutter about the room that spoke of travel and adventure.

"Thank you for your hospitality."

Kuja would need more than a headache to lose his manners.

Once inside she led him to the living room, the largest room in the house. It was dimly lit by the dying fire and pointed at it was an old, worn armchair that had probably once been quite plush with its red velvet covering and gold tassels in its youth. She released him there, assuming he'd want to sit down but not instructing him to do so.

"I'll go and---" she began, her voice only just above a whisper, when she heard his gratitude. She hadn't expected that, especially after she'd done so little for him. Unaccustomed to such manners, particularly from a stranger, made her feel self-conscious. Not in a negative way, it was more that she suddenly felt aware of how disshelved her appearance was and how cluttered her was was. "I... I'll go and get that ether."

She hurried the words out and then... just left him there.

He may have heard rapid footsteps on stairs to the basement of the cottage and some rummaging beneath him if he had particularly keen hearing. She was being clumsy in her search and she knew it. Obviously it had been too long since she'd had guests, to be that flustered by a simple thank you.

A few minutes passed before she returned with not one, but two ethers. It was only when she came back that she thought to reciprocate his politeness.

"You're welcome, I.. um, I'm Terra, by the way."

The armchair was a welcome sight, and the back was tall enough to cradle his aching head, the pressure on his occipital bone relieving some of the pain. Kuja closed his eyes against the sunlight, breathing in the scent of wood, old furniture, and dried flowers. Quite a nice house the young lady had, perfect for reclining in. He didn't let himself think beyond his immediate surroundings; those emotions were packed up neatly to be unfolded and burst over his psyche later.

Were Kuja not in his distinctive dress, he would have given a pseudonym, but right now he was still in his eccentric dealer persona. So he took one ether gratefully and drank it down, sighing as the migraine abated with the restoration of his magic.

"A pleasure to be introduced. I am Kuja."

Wasn't there some Dwarven word describing the relief and joy caused only by the removal of pain or suffering? Because Kuja felt just that. The flavor of the ether was good and the effects immediate. Whoever produced that batch worked well.

"Now that I'm less indisposed, may I inquired as to when the chocobo caravan will arrive?"

The living room was dotted with the same eclectic collection of bits and bobs, perhaps the most interesting of which was a bookcase stacked with a selection of books - some in good condition, others downright ratty with dogeared pages and yellow spines. The titles would've shocked anyone that didn't know Terra, research pieces, myths and legends; 'Espers and Where They Come From', 'Is Magic Real?' and 'Trance - Rumour or Reality' to name just a few.

Terra placed the second bottle on the small reading table beside Kuja, the movement notably measured and slow, the touch of glass on wood inaudible. She moved with a precise grace that made her seem smaller and quieter than she really was. As she watched him knock back the ether she blinked in rapid succession in her confusion - how was it possible that someone required an ether, hadn't all magic left the world? She wondered if it were possible that he could still cast spells, so what did that make him? His appearance did set him apart from others.

She committed his name and face to memory and went to answer his question, trying to hide her intrigue - who was this man. "It'll come at the weekend, probably around midday. It's, um..." she took in his grand appearance again and added "Not exactly very luxurious but it does go to Figaro, where you can get another transport. Or a chocobo."

The straight line of her lips wobbled slightly as she imagined Kuja on a chocobo.

Now that Kuja could focus, he observed more of the room, the titles of the books drawing immediate attention. Some were old, others new, mostly about legends, history, even abstract theory... For a moment Kuja let the nostalgia wash over him like the tide, salt-tinged memories of spending hours in Daguerreo, trying to find everything he could on eidolons. He smiled at the 'Is Magic Real?" volume, thinking that this young scholar of a woman had lived out in the country to persue metamagophysics. A rather abstract topic, and Kuja thought about perhaps writing her a letter later to open a dialogue on the nature of magic. Assuming he didn't...

No. Those thoughts Kuja could hold off. Stay in the moment and breathe. Figaro, Figaro.... Probably some crossroads town, bustling in comparison to this hermitage.

"How far is Figaro then? I need to get to Treno with all speed."

And Kuja had no idea how many, if any, silver dragons still remained on Gaia. He could flag one down, but he didn't think he could handle the loss right now, should the worst be true.

"It's about a day's travel." she said, as if losing twenty-four hours to get to a city was acceptable. These days Terra rarely travelled far, she had little need to. She enjoyed the quiet life she'd made for herself here, although there were times when she felt lonely. All of her companions had their own lives to get back to after the defeat of Kefka but before Kefka she's had no life, only enforced servitude and everything that came with it. The horrors of her past buried deep but not forgotten.

"I'll make you some food to take, or you'll be starving. I don't mind doing that." An unfamiliar sadness touched her. Being alone was easy, but being exposed to someone then having them leave so soon only made her isolation all the more poignant. Whilst Terra's expression was usually settled in a passive, resting face there was something that shifted in her eyes, reflecting those feelings. As if knowing herself exposed she walked to the dying fire to stoke it with another log, poking at the embers with an ornate toasting fork to encourage them to light. Fire... The first spell she'd known. Watching the orange flames lick at the dried wood brought back so many memories.

She stood there for a moment, unaware of the passing of time until the fire crackled, snapping her out of her daydream. "You can take the ether too. I don't need it anymore." Anymore, hinting that there was once a time when she had needed it.

Not far at all, assuming she meant on chocobo; Kuja could likely find a swifter ride on a flying monster. He could also find food on his own, especially if it was only a day, but clearly when Terra she said she didn't mind, she meant she wanted to. This house was small, but quiet. There were no worries about what another tenant thought, or any reference to such; so likely she was alone. And then her face took on a subtle sadness after her offer.

Kuja was about to accept her offer, and yet paused as she tended to the fire. Obviously she was lonely, and sad that there was nothing to keep her company here. He wouldn't care, but a small, newly hatched impulse made him pause and consider... Couldn't he spend a few days with her? Here, Treno, what difference did it make? Wasn't this the sort of thing Kuja confessed to wanting to Zidane? Ah, there was another topic that could wait for sifting over later.

Time to play a part.

"That won't be necessary. I can hardly travel so far on my own!" Kuja huffed, the very picture of thwarted delicacy. "I'll just have to wait for the supply caravan. So you can keep your ether for now. After all, you might need it yourself in an emergency just as I have."

That first sentence struck at something in her, 'not necessary' was a term that could be so easily misconstrued. Not needed, not required or not wanted. The ache of the semantics of the word passed as quickly as it came, a moment of self-doubt and sorrow that melted away at the thought of her guest staying until the weekend. Terra wasn't well-versed in expressing herself, sometimes she came across as detached, other times entirely too emotive, but at the thought of having company for just a few days she smiled. The harshness of the fire lulling into a warm glow, traumatic memories banished for the time being.

"So... does that mean you're going to stay for a while?" Her voice was filled with promise, with hope, and the sadness that had lingered in her opalescent eyes was now gone. "I'll have to make a bed for you," the lofty heights of her joy hitting earth again in a sweet sort of domesticity "I'm not even sure you'll fit in the bed... I didn't even know people could get as tall as you.."

And another thought hit her, had his comment hinted at something else "Unless..." was it a convoluted way of asking her if she'd like to go with him? No, surely not. And not wanting to risk the pleasant civility of their exchange she scrapped the question entirely, hoping he hadn't noticed its beginning. Instead she changed the subject "Keep the ether? But..." her brow knit together, an expression somewhere between confusion and regret "I can't use magic anymore, no one can." But even as she said the words she felt... suspicious. She remembered climbing that infernal Cultist Tower and being restricted to magic attacks only. By the time she'd reached the top she was exhausted, she'd overspent and felt ill... Just like he had been. With a calm clarity she added "... You can though, can't you."

There, that wasn't difficult. Just like any other play on emotion Kuja had done, but for someone else's happiness rather than his own. A curl of satisfaction grew at the look on her face. How novel; something worth doing more now that he's committed himself into staying for a few days longer, if only to explore this new avenue of action.

"Of course. I can hardly go plodding off through the wilderness. My clothes would be ruined." There, that should sell the image more. He did love his clothes but they could withstand far more than a little sun and dirt.

Still, just how sheltered was this woman? Sure, Kuja was tall, but he was hardly an outlier. She must have grown up in some isolation if she was unfamiliar with something as basic as height. Small wonder she was lonely, if that was the case.

The change in subject Kuja took as introducing the new subject. For a moment he was confused. What kind of hermitage had this woman had? Even the most backwater hamlet had a healer, and every other peasant could light the morning fire with a word. But then. The books. 'Is Magic Real?' Just what were the circumstances that would make magic dire, rare, and suspicious? Kuja could have denied it, he had a perfectly good story on his tongue, and yet...

"Yes." he said. "I can."

He dearly loved making a sensation.

"Well, they are very pretty clothes. If somewhat minimal." But don't get her wrong, Terra liked them quite a bit. There was no denying that even when he was disheveled Kuja was very handsome, no, beautiful. But she wasn't about to deny the fact that a lot of skin was on show. She had been blessed with close friends but no one to be intimate with and she was equal parts curious and interested with so much on show. Not that she would ever dream of acting on those buried desires but how nice it was to see skin like this, not in the charred memories of her past

At the revelation her eyes widened and lips parted, both in wonder. Her doe-eyed awe reflecting her disbelief. "Then... magic hasn't left the world entirely!" This meant so much to her, not only because of her lost abilities but because... if Magic remained then maybe, somewhere in hiding, so too did the Espers. No matter how much she related to humankind there was still some part of her that yearned for her father's heritage, without the Esper side of herself she felt like half a person, half a soul.

She'd turned entirely to face him, her attention dedicated to him, small hands desperate and delicate cradled each other above her chest. She was a small, green-haired Madonna brimming with fragile hope. "Could that mean that Espers still live on, that magic might return balance to the world?"

Kuja smiled at her attention, sitting up and arranging himself nicely so she might better admire his attire. The latter comment he ignores, since she's merely unaccustomed to the trend of bare midriffs. No need to make things awkward between them, if he was to stay. Her own clothes are quite lovely, with colorful patterns and wonderful contrast. Red really suits a green-haired women like her.

But now, just what was she babbling about? Magic leaving the world? Espers? Was this place a magical void like Oeilvert? Surreptitiously Kuja tried to sense what sort of landscape he was dealing with, any leftover caches of Mist, soul movement, anything that might cause an interruption in magic use. The results were surprising but not unknown: he was no longer on Gaia. This planet had a healthy soul cycle but stagnant magic.

"I... I am not sure about Espers, but the magic has ebbed, like a diverted river."

"Then there's still a chance!" It didn't seem possible for such a small thing to brim with so much joy, but she did. She radiated positivity and... something else, something locked away under denial and, more powerfully, fear. Terra was unaware of the magic that lay dormant in her, that even now as they spoke recovering from the blow it had received as the world shifted balance once more.

It only occurred to her after her outburst how forward she must've seemed, if magic was mundane to him then her reaction must've made her look simple at best and deranged at worst. Whilst she was still excited at the thought of magic remaining in the world she tried to compose herself. She felt self-conscious, a rare feeling for her, as if she'd somehow embarrassed herself. Why did she care, she barely even knew this man. Terra consoled herself that this feeling was probably down to the lack of company she'd had and the gravity of his revelation.

"Maybe there's still a chance for me then." She added, considerably muted in contrast to her earlier exclamation. "Um, I... Sorry, I just thought that after Kefka." she shook her head, why was she trying to explain herself, she probably just made herself look all the madder by doing so and dropped the subject "I'm... happy you're going to stay for a bit though."

Since this world had an abeyance of magic, then Kuja's revelation must have come like a bolt from the blue. Terra's behavior was far from excessive, but only to be expected. Her hope and happiness were good payment for Kuja's risk.

"Have you had magic before? I'm afraid I haven't been in the social circles in some time due to my own scholarly pursuits but I see the world is much changed."

That should give Kuja some leeway until he can find out more about this world. Starting with this "kefka" phenomenon. He might have to go to Figaro or some place with a library or newspaper archive he can peruse, but for now he can start small with this young lady.

"Think nothing of it. If I can help, then I would be remiss in passing you by."

What a lie that was. But definitely a sentiment Zidane would have.

Empire's witch! Murderer! Monster!!

All slander she had heard upon her awakening. In reality, she'd probably heard it in her servitude but her mind had decided against committing it to memory. Nobody had seen her magic as a boon but for those that thought to use it in their civil wars. Kuja may have been the first person she'd ever met who didn't turn and flee at the thought of her being a magic user. Well, him and Kefka, but Kefka had another attitude entirely.

Her expression softened at his interest and she nodded before finally responding. "Yes." How to explain it without sounding mad or worse, dangerous "Because of... my past I was able to use magic. Then with the help of others--" Her fellow Espers "--I was able to learn more spells. But when Kefka was overthrown the world changed. I thought that all magic was gone." She was being evasive, not because she didn't trust Kuja but because she worried about scaring him. Little did she know...

Her eyes light up when she looks to him "But what happened must have passed you by. Some would think you cursed for that, but I don't. Magic can do so many things, help so many people."

... And hurt them, of course.

But she wasn't about to add that.

Poor woman, her eyes seemed distant, haunted even. What sort of relationship did she have with her magic? Hurtful? Joy, thwarted? In the end it seemed negative, but she was still hopeful, still wanted to embrace her magic in the present. She saw Kuja's offer as a gift.

"Most people did, I believe. My magic has always been a comfort and a source of strength for me."

Of course Kuja had been trained in a number of martial arts in preparation for his warmongering, but Kuja was always drawn to magic as his preferred style. He was gifted in that art, and delighted in how much power, how much influence he had on the world around him, how his practice and study only increased his ability. Any idiot could swing a blade, any tedious fool could repeat the same strike to force their body to remember. But to know magic, to draw out the spell and make it your own, make it know you, that! Oh, that took a certain touch blending skill and delicacy that Kuja reveled in.

"Like any power, it should be used responsibly, for the good of others." Gods, those lines were sweet enough to make his teeth ache. "Perhaps you'll have a reason to keep the ether yet."

For fallen_stage

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