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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!
Offering the other man an incredulous raise of his brows over the rim of his wine glass, Ronin holds it out for a refill willingly, needing it after the scorch of that particular burn. "Careful, husband," he drawls, "or you may find my attire becomes rather flamboyant in the coming weeks." And the gods know that Ronin Taliesin will strut around Torchline in a feather boa and mismatched flip-flops, so the threat is real.
Not expecting the sudden invitiation to right a wrong he'd never realised he'd committed, of course the Knight rises instantly to the challenge, taking a fresh sip of his drink before setting it down and rising to his feet, clearing his throat as if to re-settle the image of captain of training over his now markedly more grizzled self.
"Remi," he says, his tone one of polite surprise as if he's just run into the other man by chance, "gods, it's been a while. I'm just on my way out for a drink, if you want to join me?"
Lowering his cup to the table if only so that he could raise both hands in surrender, Remi tried to hide his laughter in favour of looking apologetic. "Far be it from someone like me to ever give you fashion advice, but please don't."
Raising his eyebrows as Ronin stood, Remi followed the Knight with his eyes, his expression now looking genuinely unsure and thus more faithful to the image of the man he was when they were last in this room. As the offer was made, the Bastion glanced down into his cup, smiling to himself as a flush of pink spread across his cheeks.
Clearing his throat as well, Remi tilted his head apologetically to the side as he pursed his lips softly together. "Ah, I wish I could." He mumbled, thickening his accent. Feathers ruffled into his curls as they so often used to back then, and without even thinking Remi tried to itch them away. "But I have work to do for the Overseer and I am afraid I must have it to him by tomorrow."
idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on its sword
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Bouncing his eyebrows threateningly before letting the expression relax into something warmer, Ronin inclines his head and accepts his victory with all the predictable grace of a baron. But then he really is having to play the part of a baron - if not a very roguish one with a terrible track record for being a Good Blueblood, and it's only difficult to keep up the facade because fuck, how had he possibly missed how adorably flustered Remi could be the first time.
"Oh, well that's fortuitous," he says, offering a bright and friendly smile and leaning his hands against the alchemist's little table. "I happen to know the Overseer - and I've got it on good authority that he is also in his cups tonight." Is it true? Does it matter? Ronin never used to think so. "Are you sure I can't tempt you for just one drink? It might help your thoughts come a little easier." He winks.
While it was difficult to remember what it was like to worry about being in thrown in jail for looking at another man for too long, Remi certainly had no problems reenacting what it felt like to be the sole focus of Ronin's attention. It was, after all, the way the Knight made him feel every single day.
Sitting up a touch straighter if only to add to the distance Ronin had eliminated between them by leaning forward, the alchemist Bastion smiled softly, his eyes not quite able to hold the captain's blue stare. "All the more reason to avoid those sorts of places, then." Remi replies gently, before glancing over his shoulder at the pile of half-completed inventions. "If he really is in his cups tonight, I can be sure he'll have absolutely no patience tomorrow morning for me not having my work done."
That Remi had absolutely no money to his name or that he was quite certain he'd be tongue-tied if he had to do anything more than defend himself against the baron's invitation, hardly seemed to matter.
idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on its sword
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
"Oh, I don't expect the Overseer to frequent the sorts of places the rest of us go to," Ronin says with a casual shrug. "Or let's just say, if he does, he won't be in any sort of state to recognise you." Grinning - but also polite, because it is after all how he'd been raised, the captain Knight sighs and drops gently back onto the stool at the table.
"What if," he suggests, "we work on it together? Maybe I can help to get the work done." Or - and it's entirely more likely, based on all of their prior interactions - Ronin will be more of a hindrance, but that's neither here nor there. "Unless, of course, you are just trying to politely excuse yourself from my company, in which case I am very sorry for overstepping, and I will leave you be."
"The rest of us, hmm?" The words were perhaps a little more new Remi than old, and as if realizing this, the Bastion quietly cleared his throat and chewed at the inside of his lip to temper the smile threatening to dimple his cheeks.
"N—no, of course not." He was, obviously so, but that wasn't the sort of thing a commoner could say to a man like Ronin, no matter how salt of the earth he seemed to be. "But I'm sure you have better things to do with your time." Assuming both back then and for the purposes of their little charade that Ronin wasn't going to take no for example, Remi swallowed as he reached across the table for, hmm. What nonsense had he been working on back then?
Reaching for a rather unremarkable spherical doohickey, Remi held it up between them. "Koel has me trying to amplify magic outside of the wall. The thought was as a shapechanger if we flew it over, it could be dropped without anyone noticing. But then, when our mages walked by, they'd find their powers strengthened." Against whatever the fuck had been out there; Remi had never found out.
idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on its sword
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
"That's what I said." Ronin tries to hide his own grin, though he's unable to stop the quip from spilling out automatically. Settling in his seat and letting out a soft laugh at Remi's - old Remi's - response, the Knight shrugs his shoulders. "I was on my way to get a drink," he points out. "While some would argue that's quite an important thing, it won't taste as good knowing someone else is beavering away their evening on work."
Especially when he can be here to hinder help that someone with the work, and hopefully make it take less time.
Propping his chin against his hand as he looks at the doohickey Remi picks up and examines, Ronin (of course) makes all the right noises for someone who has absolutely zero access to magic, even though it absolutely is a very clever idea. "And how does one make that amplification happen?" he wonders, reaching for the wine that oop, Remi already seems to have poured for them.
"I'll have you know that my shift is a hawk, not a beaver." Remi points out, and though he doesn't look at Ronin, he raises his eyebrows emphatically just the same.
Lifting his eyes for a moment only to be treated by Ronin looking like a school boy who was trying very hard to look interested in something, Remi bit back a smirk before beginning his explanation. An explanation, which, having been made up on the fly, is not quite strong enough to withstand careful scrutiny.
"Mmmm?" Letting his eyes unfocus from Ronin's so that he might instead fix them on the ball he was holding, the Bastion frowned hard enough to have his eyebrows nearly furrowing low enough to touch his eyelashes. "Well, you see.." Magic had never been the sort of thing he understood, even when he'd possessed it himself. "..the...uhm.." Unable to think of anything that might amplify magic in the way he was describing, eventually the Bastion gave up with a huff of laughter.
"Shut up. I've never been good at coming up with things on the spot."
idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on its sword
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
"Is it?" Ronin says with a hint of surprise and interest, as if this is entirely new information for him. "Well, then, hawking away their evening on work," he clarifies, shrugging his shoulders as if the semantics have been appropriately tweaked for the other man's purposes.
And as Remi begins his explanation, one that the Knight hasn't ever been entirely certain he would receive, his smile only grows into something truly shit-eating, the sort of expression belonging very much on Ronin-the-husband's face rather than his younger counterpart.
"Sorry," he says through a laugh. "It was a very clever invention, at least. And look, you see, this is why I could never have invited you to hang out! I practically had to bully you into it."
Shooting Ronin a dry look that could have been attributed to either iteration of the Bastion, Remi rolled his eyes softly. "Hawking away my evening. I will have to remember that one."
Now that the jig was up, Remi was free to throw up his hands, gesturing like an Italian in such a way his younger self never would have. "Easy for you to say! And what would have happened if I'd accepted? We'd just stroll to the sort of bar people like me aren't supposed to be seen in, but you'd charm our way in, only for everyone to notice that I wasn't supposed to be there, making me feel even more uncomfortable for being out with you?" Exasperated but amused, Remi punctuated each of his points with a jut of his chin and dramatic flare of his fingers.
Reaching for his wine, he laughed. "I do think you might have stayed, had things ever gone this way. And, gods.." A flush of pink spread across the bridge of his nose as Remi regarded the ceiling. Opening his mouth to speak, for a few moments all he can do is softly shake his head. "I think that might have been it for me."
idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on its sword
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Laughing musically at Remi's gestures, Ronin is already shaking his head with his argument locked and loaded on his tongue. "Because you never accepted, you would never have known that I used to frequent all sorts of bars, the sorts bluebloods and commoners would find themselves in. I've danced on many a table, and started a brawl or two in my time, thank you. And that was in Northaven." Shrugging comically (he can't Italian so it'll have to do), the Knight picks up his almost empty cup in victory.
With his smile softening with the other man's words, he can't help but nod his agreement. "I think I might have," he agrees. "I suppose at that point we'd just have to be jailbirds together, huh?" Tipping a wink to his husband, Ronin will absolutely drink to that, and he reaches out to clink his glass against Remi's for good measure.
"You had better not let Flora hear you say that or she'll demand that you reprise your roll as go go dancer in the tavern." It's strange to imagine Ronin dancing on a table; starting fights, not at all, but dancing? on tables? "When you and I became friends things were already so tense in the the Grounds, I admit it's a little hard to imagine."
Sipping in a breath that seems to fill more than just his lungs, Remi lets it out amidst a shivery laugh. "Oh, no no. I'm not sure you ever saw my best party trick, but it was to simply fly away." Making a poof with his fingers, the Bastion grinned at the memory. "As incredibly embarrassing as it was, if I was ever worried about crossing a line with another man, I'd just..." Whistling a trill, he nodded toward the open window.
Shaking his head and chuckling at himself, he knocked his cup against Ronin's before downing its contents. Glancing at the mattress which had been leaning against the wall, Remi ran his tongue across his teeth as he stared at it for a moment. "As much as I appreciate faithful reproductions...would you be at all offended by a few changes?" Subtle at first, the uneven floorboards would slowly become covered with sand as the light from the window began to stream through in thick shafts of warm sunlight. The crash of Northaven's ocean suddenly sounded much closer than it had any right to, and as for the shoddy little mattress? A rather grand bed with fresh white sheets was slowly becoming solid where the wall should have been.
idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on its sword
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
"Give me enough wine and I'll reprise it for you right now," Ronin says with a playful flash of teeth, "though I've a feeling the memory table you've conjured for us might not hold my weight." And that would, indeed, bring their night literally crashing to an end. Glancing back up at the other man as thoughts of go go dancing are replaced by pale feathers and the trill of a hawk, the Knight's eyes glitter with a mixture of knowing and disbelief. Because he can absolutely see it, he realises; remnants of that man had stepped from Northaven into Caido for at least a short time.
As for the changes, Ronin knocks back his own cup and raises the empty in a cheers to his husband. "It's your night," he reminds him, "and the room can be whatever you want it to be." With all that being said, the rush of ocean waves and the shafts of golden light bring an unbidden smile to his lips, and the Knight is already rising to his feet and holding a hand out for the other man. "May I interest you in the sorts of things you would never have dreamed of doing in this room before?"
"If it breaks, we'll take it up with the management." The House of Midnight was meant to provide the sorts of experiences that no where else could, memory-tables and all. Not wanting to think about either Sunjata or Hotaru (and certainly not wanting Ronin to think of the Valkyrie either), Remi rises as well and laces his fingers through his husband's.
"If only I'd known how soon my dreams would come true." He murmurs, the sentimentality and sweetness in his voice absolutely belonging to the man who had once lived in this room. "And that in the end, you would still be better than all of them."
So saying, Remi presses his fingertips against Ronin's chest with all the slow trepidation he might once have at least dreamed of doing. Letting them rise until he was able to cup the Knight's cheeks in his palms, he drew their mouth together in a kiss that would have rendered him a ball of heaving feathers years before.
What the pair did later, not even younger-Remi would have been capable of dreaming up.
~FIN
idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on its sword
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
