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!
09-09-2024, 12:43 PM (This post was last modified: 09-09-2024, 12:45 PM by Safrin.)
there exists a tipping point between gods and monsters
Night falls, and Jack arrives at the lighthouse with a still-warm breeze in his (freshly cut) hair and a bouquet of star-gazer lilies in the crook of his arm. On his shoulder is a satchel containing the ingredients he'd been told to collect as part of his quest - the water, the mud, the unicorn's horn, and he carries the rest - the death - in his bones.
Leaving Flora with a quiet nod, he ascends the steps to the shrine, setting down the lilies as an offering in a vase he fills with water courtesy of his magic. Only once he's lit all the candles, illuminating the room with faux-starlight, does he set down the items individually and sink to his knees, all too aware that he'll likely end up on them soon enough regardless.
"I've done as you asked, Safrin," he murmurs softly into the quiet of the night.
"And almost as quickly as you said you would." Safrin's voice is wrapped in a veil of amusement as a gentle breeze stirs the candles, though at no point threatens to blow them out. Points of starlight rise from the flickering flames, rising up toward the ceiling and creating mini-constellations as the goddess steps forward from a small puddle of shadow near the windowsill.
While Jack would be treated to the full orchestral symphony of Safrin's thoughts, it had been dimmed, significantly; things he could understand of her mind were allowed to linger close to the fingers of his magic, while the tales of creation, the rise and fall of cities and civilizations, and the recipes for starlight loomed far away in the distance where his mortal mind wouldn't be too bothered by them.
Standing before him she traces a fingertip against the line of his jaw, lifting his chin. "Strip, if you wouldn't mind." She hums before turning away. Waving a hand over the items he'd brought with them, they fused together, creating a shimmering mud mixture that glowed faintly in the firelight.
there exists a tipping point between gods and monsters
Jack can almost taste blood with how hard he realises he's been biting his cheek, waiting for Safrin's thoughts to inevitably tilt the fulcrum of his magic into complete overdrive. Hopefully she won't be offended that he's almost grimacing as she first appears, an expression that's an instinctive and all too mortal response to expected pain. It's one that fades completely to feel not the overwhelming cacophony of her blessed existence, but... enough. Enough to understand, enough to process without losing himself.
Letting out a breath he hasn't realised he's been holding, Jack blinks up at the goddess, quiet and docile as the unicorn he'd butchered. "As you wish," he replies, rising carefully to his feet (just in case that's when all of her thoughts hit him at once) and drawing his dark shirt over his head, hanging it off a nearby statuette. His boots and pants follow, until Jack is naked but for his faint bruises, his scars, and the tattoos the goddess has placed upon him so far.
Her galactic stare drapes across him with such intensity Jack will swear he can feel the velveteen purr of it rippling across his skin. A faraway star winks into existence in the universe of Safrin's mind, so dim it might have been nothing at all, and yet it pulsed with a momentary pang of regret for having not convinced the captain to try the old fashioned method. Alas.
"Come here." She purrs, reaching to scoop up the mud mixture before holding out her hands for him. Though the mud will be cold, the heat of Safrin's fingers quickly balances it out; not unlike the sensation of being in a hot tub during a rainstorm. Light flows from her fingertips as life, death, birth, illusion, healing, magic, and memory are all combined into one. Her hands smooth out the knots and bruises left by the panther as she covers the entirety (wink) of his body with the mixture until she's left kneeling before him on the ground, placing the last bit upon his toes.
"Magic can be fleeting, items can be broken, but this..." The goddess smiles, rubbing her fingertips together. "This is as close to immortality as you can come." Her smile is feline as an eyebrow raises. For now.
Rising slowly, Safrin traces a shape through the mud along Jack's right side; inside of his bones the star snake she'd placed there earlier reluctantly uncoils as it slithers to the surface.
Serpentine Tattoo (mastered) | Jack will not grow any older than he is presently (35) and is immune to diseases. Can be killed by regular means. Will age if the tattoo is removed.
there exists a tipping point between gods and monsters
Like a man who has willingly placed his head into a noose, Jack steps forward and into Safrin's waiting touch. He's unsure, at first, what to make of the mud mixture, and all the paranoid parts of his mind have him expecting pain. What he gets instead, of course, is strangely and blissfully tactile, the captain's eyebrows raising momentarily to feel the goddess's hands upon his body.
All over his body, and whilst the pang of Safrin's regret is so distant such that Jack isn't sure if it's really there at all, he does glance to her face for a moment as if wondering whether there will be another chance in the future to reconsider such an offer. As she rises, her fingers tracing through his skin and bones as she does so, the tattoo of the serpent rises and settles against his chest and ribs. Difficult to understand its true meaning; even more difficult to remove.
"It's already a thousand steps from where I was only a few minutes ago," he murmurs, inclining his head to the goddess. "Thank you."
With muddy fingers the goddess places her hands on her hips, staring at the man before her fully encased in mud. "I know you have the ability to clean yourself off in here, but I'd rather my shrine not be coated in mud if you don't mind." She hums, plucking up the bouquet of lilies he'd brought for her and cradeling them in her arms.
"Might I suggest a swim in the ocean?"
With a wink, her mind opens briefly to him that he might feel her approval of his methods and his utter devotion, before darkness swallows her whole once more and Jack is left alone, whole, functionally immortal, and very, very muddy.