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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!
10-27-2025, 06:45 AM (This post was last modified: 10-27-2025, 06:53 AM by Koa.)
Koa
You may have been a shit friend of late, but none of that matters when you hear.
It's hard to say how long it's been by the time you reach their his door, nearly doubled over in exhaustion from the long run from the Nest. No, not even the Nest- the news had met you on the road, as you'd been making your way back from a long patrol. An accident -- Sea panther -- The Caretaker is dead. It's this last bit that sent you running, Pipsqueak a flag directing your route as you duck and weave down familiar streets, not stopping for anything until you find yourself outside a familiar door.
Which you knock on. And then knock on again. And then call through, your hands shaking as you reach out to try the handle, propriety be damned, because by now Pipsqueak is flying over your head in tight, upset circles, calling out in an almost subsonic cry that reverberates like heartbeats in your tightened chest. She can sense Sol inside, and that's enough. You'll break down this damned door if you must.
"Zavien? It's Koa. I'm coming in."
the most remarkable thing about you standing in the doorway is that it's you, and that you're standing in the doorway
Breaking down the door might be hard when he's sitting with his back against it. He hadn't made it more than a step inside before the reality of it all had suckerpunched him in the gut. The moment the door clicked shut, he was assaulted by thoughts of Lena, her smile, her laugh, her warm embrace, all replaced by the vacant stare of her eyes; the blood splattered across her neck, the stiff cold of her body.
Stumbling back into the wooden door, Zavien had broken, he'd slid to the floor and fallen apart, unsure whether he had the strength to get up again, not when Lena is gone - dead. It doesn't feel real, to know that everything is just going to move on without her when she'd been his whole world. Not just a part of him is missing, and not just a tiny fleck. His entire foundation has been shattered to oblivion, dust coating the walls where it used to be, before the gaping whole in his heart let it fall away like sand from an hourglass. It doesn't matter when time has lost its meaning anyways. It leaves him listless and falling through a pit of darkness he's only seen once before, but where fear had once been his adversary, hopelessness greets him.
Sol had found him shortly after arriving, nuzzling his head into the crook of his arm with sniffling whimpers and keening cries. Together they'd sobbed and cried until there was nothing left but a gaping whole. That might have been hours ago, or it might have been days for all he knows. Zavien has become a statue of a man, elbows propped on his knees where his hanging head can stare blankly at the dried blood on his fingers. Dirt and mud run up his pants and sleeves, darkness rings his empty gaze. Koa's voice filters through his head, but it isn't loud enough to be heard over the screaming, the roaring of jagged grief and broken hearts. But Sol hears, and despite how the emotions flood and overwhelm the bond, the little dragon manages to slip from beneath Zavien's arm, slinking towards the open window where he can peek his head through at the first responders here to help.
The handle doesn't budge; you jiggle it, frustration quickly growing, but the damn thing refuses to budge. Snarling in frustration you take a step back, hands in your hair as you spin in your own circle, trying to decide what the fuck to do now. For all of your earlier internal posturing, breaking the door down feels a little overkill, especially when you don't know if he's even inside.
But then Pip trills sharply and darts away, your head snapping up as you follow her trajectory. There- an open window, and peeking out of it is a little golden face, like a distress beacon in blackened sea. "Sol!" you cry, following Pipsqueak to the open window. "Hey, hey. It's gonna be okay," you soothe the little companion, pausing long enough to gently scritch the dragon before turning your attention to the window itself.
It's open, but not fully - certainly not enough for your shoulders to fit through, though that hasn't stopped you before. Grimacing, you wrap your fingers around and tug up, shoving the pane high enough to allow you to stick your head inside. Difficult to do while shooing both dragons out of the way, but as we've established, you're hard to deter. "Zav?" You think you can see the silhouette of a man against the entryway, but it's hard to tell with the dark interior and your twisted neck. "Open the door, man. I'd rather not come through the window, but I will."
the most remarkable thing about you standing in the doorway is that it's you, and that you're standing in the doorway
It's strange how darkness feels like your only friend when it's all you can see. Light peeks through the windows, casting the floor in faint lamplight, just enough for him to see all the memories that are beginning to haunt him, painted in a soft glow that proves just how alone he is without her. Yet, in the outline of the window, a shadow appears, someone else daring to enter the hollowness of his heart, a reminder that he isn't sitting in an empty void however much it may feel like.
The voice that calls out is familiar, slowly drawing his attention away from the depths of his despair. It's a friend other than the darkness, someone who has always managed to be there when he needs him - someone he'd hate to make crawl through the window. But the strength feels so far, the controls for his body having calcified beyond repair.
Sol leaves Koa to support his companion, bumping and nuzzling against his side with an insistence that can't be ignored. It's a noxious stimulus that breaks through the fog of his thoughts, pushing him to a shuffled kneel, then a bent crouch, then a hunched stance. The numb disconnect of his movements are hazy. He can't feel the cold metal of the doorknob, can't feel the breeze cutting through his thin coat when the door opens, can't feel the smile that always comes like second nature.
Zavien blinks against the lamplight, failing to clear the blank stare from his eyes, the redness that rims them when he lays eyes on his friend after so many weeks. His throat is hoarse, the words flat and dry through the tightness they have to crawl up from. "Koa... sorry, I - " Missed you? Can't think straight? Couldn't hear you through the darkness? Want to be alone? Was too late to save her?
None of the phrases take form, his mouth closing around everything he can't say. He doesn't know what to do with himself, doesn't know how to stand, doesn't know how to breathe with her gone, and it's obvious in the way his hand falls limp from the doorknob, nearly leaning against the doorframe to support himself, struggling just to keep his head from hitting his chest. There's a heaviness to everything, an ache that he can't shake and a pain he's not sure will ever leave.
There's movement in the shadows; you follow Sol's trajectory as he flies away, toward the indistinct shape that must be Zav. Pipsqueak follows her friend inside, chirping back to confirm (much to your relief) that yes, it's Zavien, and yes, he is getting up to open the door and you do not have to do the worm through his window and onto his floor.
You're there when the seal between Zavien and the outside world finally cracks, biting your lip and trying not to let your impatience and worry show too clearly on your expressive face. But you can't help the distress that clouds your expression as you take in your friend, gaze flickering rapidly from his disheveled hair to his red-rimmed eyes to the dreadfully suspicious dark stains on his shirt. Until this moment a part of you has been holding onto a desperate hope that the reports are wrong, that it isn't true, that Lena's still alive.
It only takes one look at Zavien to snuff that hope like a candle flame.
"Fuck, Zav. I came as soon as I heard, I- Can I come in?" You don't wait for a response or invitation, too scared he'll try to push you away. Shouldering the door open gently, you take the step across the threshold to close the gap between yourself and your friend. Then your arms are around him, squeezing hard and tight and close, all the things you don't know how to say pressed into the hug. "I'm so, so, so sorry, Zav." You'll let him go if he seems uncomfortable, but otherwise you're here for as long as he needs.
the most remarkable thing about you standing in the doorway is that it's you, and that you're standing in the doorway
Tears have never been something Zavien shied away from. Emotions and expression in general are a good thing, after all, but he always does his best to keep strong, to share the smiles more than the burdens. But there's something about a hug, something about a friend refusing to accept whatever external facade you put on and reaching instead to cushion the hurt underneath without a care for if it stains their clothes. The force of it breaks him as much as it keeps him from falling apart. He shatters and reforms like an atomic blast that explodes, the vacuum sucking the debris back in for a second, stronger wave of destruction that tears through walls and peace.
His shoulders shudder with the force of his pain, tears soaking Koa's shirt as he returns the hug in force, trying to keep himself from pulling them both to the floor. There aren't any words he can say, nothing that will encompass the loss he feels, the regrets and crumbling dreams and encroaching darkness of having someone so warm and loving stolen from the world. It's not fair that every turn of their relationship had been plagued by destruction and cruelties. It's not fair that she'd been ripped from the world after they'd survived so much worse. It's not fair that he'd had infinitely more love to give and nowhere for it to go. It's not fair and it never will be, because she's gone while he's still here.
For a time, he just cries, he lets out the injustice of it all and clutches to his friend as one of the only comforts in this heartless world. And only when the waterfall of emotions becomes a trickle does he loosen his hold, the exhaustion pulling at his limbs. His voice is a croak, simultaneously wet and dry to crack through the dark. "I was too late. Ronin couldn't save her..." Fresh tears fall, slow and mournful, thick with the anguish of his powerlessness, his failure to protect her when that's all he ever wanted.
There's that moment of uncertainty as Zavien decides if he'll allow himself to fracture, and then the tension breaks as he sags against you, nearly collapsing into your arms. You don't mind this - it's what you came for, to give your friend a place to put his burdens for a while. Another pair of shoulders, when his strong ones can't hold the world anymore.
So you hold on, tight and fierce and unyielding, as his tears turn your coat as dark as blood. Pipsqueak has draped her long body around the now larger Sol, offering-slash-forcing her rarely earned affection upon her smaller kin. You're both doing your best to keep in this moment, to prevent your thoughts from straying to the image of a dark night and a shock of red and the mangled form of a beloved Caretaker whose loss will dig another hole in you that you aren't prepared to investigate.
When Zavien's hoarse voice finally cracks into the silence it's almost a relief, even if the content is heartbreakingly final. Tears jolt into your eyes; you squeeze them shut, stubbornly denying them, though no self control can keep you from tightening your grip on Zav. "I'm so sorry," you whisper again, knowing the words are next to useless, furious because you have no idea what else you're supposed to say.
Better not to even try. You've always been better with actions than words, so that's what you'll rely on now. "C'mon. Let's get inside." Gently but firmly you repositon yourself, guiding Zav away from the door and kicking it shut as you go. A mental note has Pip working on getting lights and a fire going as you direct Zavien toward the seating of his choice. "I'm gonna get you some water. And then you're gonna eat something. And then we'll decide if we're staying here, or going back to mine." You keep your voice calm and matter-of-fact, subconsciously affecting the same demeanor you'd seen your mom use with shell-shocked soldiers, growing up at her side. Returning with the water glass, you place it in front of Zavien before settling at his side, hand squeezing his shoulder in firm but gentle encouragement to get something in his body, even if he doesn't think he can.
the most remarkable thing about you standing in the doorway is that it's you, and that you're standing in the doorway
There's nothing either of them can say or do to change the past, no words or actions that will make Lena's loss feel any lighter, but the tightening of his hold keeps Zavien from tumbling into despair, squeezing the emotions into something less daunting and overwhelming. The apology is one he's heard a thousand times before and one he knows won't stop for months to come, sincerity ranging from polite to genuine sorrows. Koa hadn't needed to say them, not when Zavien knows this must be hitting him just as hard. And yet, it feels like the hug extends deeper with the words, giving his lonely heart company in its misery.
He doesn't fight Koa when he pulls away, although his limbs extend reluctantly before falling stiff to his sides. Each step is a struggle, his watery eyes trying not to catch on the space around him, trying not to see all the ghosts of Lena. They stay glued to the floor, squinting as the lights turn on, illuminating every piece of furniture she'd weaved through as she worked, every plant she'd loved and cared for, every bit of her still lingering in the space.
It beats at his chest, a barrage of moments that make breathing hard as he moves pointedly away from the couch and towards a wooden dining chair. It's safe, something they hadn't used as much, hadn't laughed or kissed on, hadn't soaked in as many dangerous memories to hurt him with. It's strong enough to hold the heavy thud of his weight, his spine curving into a shell that's held up by propped elbows and willpower.
Only then does Sol move from the comforting embrace of his friend. Small whines and grumbles vibrate through him in mournful hiccups as he nuzzles his thanks to Pip, scurrying towards his companion to settle against his leg. Golden eyes peek up, the bond dense with sympathy, grief, and concern that settles in next to Koa's hand, encouraging him to reach for the glass that's appeared in his dazed state.
His hand hesitates, remembering when Lena had bought it, and wishing he didn't. The movement stutters before taking hold, lifting it but not yet taking a drink, his head shaking instead. "I can't be here." Broken and raspy, they're barely more than a whisper, a subconscious answer to the question Koa hadn't asked yet. Pressure builds behind his eyes again, but he's been left dry, only a pursing of his face to show the agony he's in just being here. Zavien braces a hand against his head to still the thoughts, taking a shaking breath as he says, "She's everywhere."
