Click here for a list of weather descriptions, seasonal festivals, and a real time:site time conversion.
Character of the Season
Frail in body but dangerously quick of mind, Nikandr is the sort of character who proves that curiosity can be just as perilous as any weapon. A necromancer, inventor, and problem-solver with more ambition than self-preservation, Niki approaches the world like a puzzle box begging to be opened, even when what’s inside has teeth. Blunt, dry-witted, fiercely independent, and carrying a history best left partially buried, he has a knack for making even failure feel fascinating. Whether he’s raising the dead, moving across Caido to King's End, or experiencing a hangover for the first time, Nikandr brings a wonderfully strange spark to Caido, and we can’t wait to see what trouble his brilliant mind wanders into next.
Congratulations, Niki!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
OG Skinning provided by Kaons, with functionality and many custom plugins made by Neowulf!
i tried to start caring like you and like them when you said that i was killing myself
Chuckling a soft laugh – he has to agree. It was their loss. Not that it mattered much these days anyway – the only person that saw the sharpness of his teeth was the very ruler of this region. And he didn’t mind it one bit.
But for now, the butcher focuses instead on putting up his glamour, letting the horns melt away but the sharp teeth remain – peering into the mirror and twisting so that she might be able to see the reflection staring back at her with nothing to signify that he’s Ancient. So obviously, that isn’t how it worked. Huffing a little snort and conceding, he lowers the mirror to look back at her right when she puts up her own glamour. He peers at her curiously for a few moments, seeing that sharp Ancient he knew turn somehow softer, moldable.
They’d be in for a surprise, however.
And just like that, it’s gone. The horns are back and he almost breathes a soft sigh of relief as he sips from his glass again, keeping his glamour up solely because he’s gotten used to letting it sit in place for hours at a time.
It also makes it easier for him to set the mirror down and run a hand through his hair, scratching at the spaces the horns took up as he finger combs the long dark hair back out of his face. “It seems like a perfectly mundane mirror..” He murmurs, before a thought occurs to him. Nothing’s changed when it was sat on the desk, but perhaps it revealed a different view when set on the ground. “Unless…”
Plucking the mirror and swiftly standing, the butcher steps over toward the side of his desk to the floor, setting the mirror down and stepping away. And just like that, there’s suddenly a second butcher without the horns and tail to signify that he’s Ancient, but the man stands there - immediately scrutinized by the butcher with the frown that graces his face. “Is that truly what my hair looks like in the back without my horns?” Comes the mournful sound, rather than the cheer at figuring out what it did.
The mystery of the mirror continues, even as Thal is distracted by Asta's unfamiliar appearance. She watches him as closely as she watches the mirror, intrigued by how different he looks, still trying to shake the unsettling feeling. Thal takes a sip of her own whiskey, glad to have her own horns and fangs back in place.
As he raises from the desk, she nearly offers to do whatever it was he was testing for, not wanting to further strain his injuries with her gift. But then a second image of him appears, from lack of Ancient features to splint to disheveled clothes, it's a perfect replication of the Butcher. She leans forward with interest, twisting in her seat so that she could see better. His comment makes her laugh as she comes to rest her chin on the arm rest, eyes shimmering with amusement to see his unhappy frown. "I did sthay you needed a comb." Maybe that would be her next gift to him - a garishly ornate comb.
"Interesthting mirror though. Maybe ith'll come in handy during batthle." Because that's always her first thought - or something nefarious. Either one seems right up Asta's alley, and she's satisfied to know the item will be put to good use. With the mystery solved, Thal downs the rest of her whiskey, not caring if her head is starting to swim. After all, she's made noticeable progress on her curse and had a pleasant time bonding with Asta. There doesn't seem to be any other reason to let her rational thoughts linger, might as well just lose herself in the pleasant hum of alcohol and warmth.
As if to say as much, she stifles a yawn. She hasn't felt this at ease in a long time. Despite how everything had started and all the fun since, she finds herself relaxing, melting further into the chair. If only to assure him that she's not falling asleep, she says, "I decthided to take your advicthe. I found a placthe in Levinsthward. I move in thisth week." Her crew is already planning a party to christen her new home, and she has to hide the genuine smile for her rowdy crew. Glancing up at Asta, she adds, "Thanksth." For the advice, for the practice, for the friendship. Thal feels like she has a lot to thank him for.
i tried to start caring like you and like them when you said that i was killing myself
“Pshh, of course you did.” The butcher recalls with a roll of his eyes – that to anyone else who didn’t really know him would think meant he was truly upset. Ah, but Thalassa and him knew one another well enough by now she’d be able to see the glint of amusement and playful dramatics that crosses his face, even if he was a smidge upset at the reflection where he can see each and every piece of himself. And while it would be useful in battle, it would certainly become useful in his day to day, ensuring his clothes fit precisely how he wished it to.
Nodding, he agrees, letting his glamour drop finally and the pronged antlers spiral from his head, tossing his hair back into some semblance of place with minor fixing – as the smile he shoots toward her grows sharper, his canines growing longer as it drops. “Decoys are quite beneficial.” Especially when he was the type that preferred to get up close and personal in his fighting. It’s why he has the threaded cane, after all. Close yet ranged.
He focuses on her at the stifled yawn and the slouched posture, the butcher returns to the desk, resting his hip against the edge of it as her voice reaches him again. Surprise flickers across his face, only there by the lack of his usual masks in the comfort of liked company. “You are quite welcome, darling. Will there be a welcome home party?” He asks, seeking any reason to dress up that he could, even if he’d stick out like a sore thumb. Parties were always a blast when you knew about them.
Satisfied to know what the mirror does, and relieved to see Asta's horns shift back into place, Thal smiles sharply. "I'm glad to hear it." At least he seems happy with whatever applications he comes up with. It's a much preferable topic than that of house crashers.
Thinking of the miserable party that awaits her, Thal groans around the shadow of a smile on her face. "Desthpite my insthisthtence otherwisthe." She shouldn't feel special; they're always looking for a reason to drink, and this is just another excuse, but she still can't help the warm sense of comradery. Setting her glass on the table, she gives him a sly grin. "I'd invite you, but I'm not sthure it'sth your kind of party." His carefully curated clothes would be soiled in seconds by grimy hands or drunken excrements. And despite his intimidating presence, her crew wouldn't hesitate to tease and torment him regarding his appearance. It doesn't give her the impression that he'd have a good time.
She holds her hands behind her head as she shoots Asta a playful smile. "But I owe you a botthle of whisthkey, stho you'll have to come over at sthome point." It might not be as exciting a prospect, but hopefully the consolation prize would be enough.
i tried to start caring like you and like them when you said that i was killing myself
Chuckling once he’s settled at the edge of his desk and let his glamour drop – he glances back toward the mirrored copy of him, remaining exactly the same without the horns before his attention swings back toward her. “Ah, I see.” He hums toward her insistence otherwise. When it came to the sly grin aimed his way, he meets hers with the sharp edged one of his own, snorting and shaking his head a little before he plucks at the collar of the borrowed shirt, as if trying to hide a few of the long stretches of trunk-like scar tissue against his collarbones. “Shame. There is nothing quite like a new home party one can sink their teeth into.” He comments idly – though whether he means figuratively or literally, she’ll have to read between the lines.
She knows him well enough by now, though, he has to assume she knows what he means.
“Well, I have an open schedule, so whenever you wish for me to pay a visit I will happily oblige.” He inclines his horned head toward her, a lock of dark hair falling into his face as his smile turns softer – content and happy as is the ashen tip of his spaded tail, with how it flickers back and forth like a content hound.
It's hard to ignore the second Butcher standing nearby, but Thal seems to do a good job of it, content to see that she hasn't offended the man. She laughs, getting as least some of his meaning. "I'm sthure we'll be able to sthcrounge up a litthle sthomething when you visthit." Maybe she'll find a few other Ancients for a hunt in the forest surrounding Levinsward (in the name of 'making friends'). Nothing says 'home' like a bleeding carcass on her kitchen table.
"I'll let you know." This time, her smile is a touch softer, genuinely planning to have him over at some point, just to show him a place that's all hers. She hasn't even moved in yet, and she's already excited for the independence it will give her. There are already a few mischievous ideas running through her head, but she keeps those as a surprise for anyone but her. The glint in her eyes says as much, even as she playfully adds, "Until then, maybe avoid exthploding rocksth? I like my friendsth in one piece." Whether he notices that it's the first time she's used the word or not, her fangs peek out from her grin.
i tried to start caring like you and like them when you said that i was killing myself
“Aha, I am sure you could find something, darling.” Astaroth hums, with absolutely zero doubt in his mind that she’d be able to scrounge something worth sinking their teeth into. For the moment, though, he’s content with the company and more than elated with the gift received.
Nodding, though, especially to see the slightly softer smile that graces her face with the thought of her home, the butcher’s more than happy to see the shift in her disposition over the time he’s known her. She’s still sharp as ever, though.
A low hum of a laugh escapes his throat as he flashes her a sharp smile in response. “Yes, I am intending on staying as far away from them as I can.” He confirms, pushing off of his desk to collect the mirror and let the second apparition of himself vanish. “In the meantime, I look forward to seeing you more often, Thalassa.” His tone is genuine, a touch soft, considering her far more of a friend these days than perhaps they both realize.
With more short and quiet conversations to pass a bit of time, the butcher will help her see to either a room to stay in or safely on her way to where she already was staying for the moment, before he returns to focus back on his healing.
