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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!
08-09-2024, 12:40 PM (This post was last modified: 08-20-2024, 10:22 AM by Odd.)
I've done nothing wrong Except for all the atrocities
Stormbreak was an area the Honeybee had yet to explore vastly – though the reasons could be parsed through on a variety of means. Didn’t want to after relic mayhem. Thought they were all kinda stuffy bitches when she did. The whole Dahlia thing.
But eh, it was also entertaining to shoot shit that wasn’t in one’s own backyard.
So pew, pew, pew went Melita, notching another arrow for the sheer thrill of pulverizing a void specimen. The crow seemed to mock her though, and she had to settle for the elemental device veering rapidly through a sparse amount of plumage instead. “Pissant,” she muttered, drawing and notching another. Sila and Fangorn both waited at the demigod’s ankles, perhaps eager to assist or waiting for something pivotal to strike.
Look, demigods don't just show up and start shooting things without someone getting word. So of course when word got to Koa that Melita was in Stormbreak, the Dragoon had swiftly bundled up his gear and headed toward the Grotto. To say hi, check in, offer his services killing stuff. Y'know, good hostmanship and all of that.
Now he arrives with Pipsqueak in tow, his chakram at his waist and a bow slung over his arm. "Hey, Zombee!" the young man greets brightly, offering a wave and an enthused grin to his twice-reborn friend. "Heard you were in town. Figured I'd come and see if I could offer my services as a humble squire." He drops into a dramatic bow, the smile still in place.
I've done nothing wrong Except for all the atrocities
All right, so maybe Melita should’ve been shooting things while invisible (since she just had recently, oop), but she also had no reason to hide. Unless it was to avoid others, and at this point, that didn’t seem to matter.
No sooner had her arrow gone wide and she’d muttered underneath her breath, did the familiar tones of Koa slide around the Grotto, and she shifted her head to glance over her shoulder. There was a very infantile wrinkle to her nose and narrowing of her eyes at the Zombee call, still not sure if she liked it or not. Regardless, Fangorn seemed overly thrilled, waving his little vines at Pipsqueak while Sila tucked downwards again. “Koa,” she nodded in return, and then allowed a grin to form at the thought of more mayhem, and less about her recent death. “If you want.”
Pointing towards the nasty crow now landing on a limb, as if to taunt her, she sneered in its direction. “Can help me get that stupid fucker.” To which she quickly launched another arrow.
Koa smiles indulgently as Pipsqueak answers Fangorn's wave. The expression falters briefly as a memory rattles against his brain; for a second his toes tingle as if with cold, though he cannot quite place why. He's quickly distracted by Melita's grin, pleased to have the nickname so readily accepted. "Heck yeah!"
Coming to stand alongside Melita, Koa eyes the offending crow. "Purple bullshit." He pulls the bow off of his shoulder, reaching for one of the arrows at his back. It's knocked with technical skill but little more; ranged attacks have never been his strength. So perhaps it's no surprise that the arrow flies wide, Koa wincing his embarrassment as the bird calls croaks out a mocking caw.
I've done nothing wrong Except for all the atrocities
Despite being monumentally affected by things in her life, Melita remained oblivious to her own actions causing any sentiments of trauma. Unaware as well, Fangorn gleefully opted to grab some rocks and invite Pipsqueak into a game of ‘chase the thrown item’, while the Honeybee’s focus remained fully on that awful ass bird.
The mockery ended swiftly; no sooner had Koa’s gone wide (no worries dude, hers had done so previously too – she’d presume they were just fast fuckers), than Melita’s pierced directly into the bird’s chest. It dropped dramatically from the branches with an audible thud and the demigod sniffed, clearly pleased with herself. “Want to see if there are anymore?” It couldn’t be the only one in the vicinity – they wouldn’t be so lucky.
Sure enough, another cry contorted through the air - somewhere over to Koa's left.
Koa's failed shot is followed immediately by Mel's success, and if he wasn't as emotionally mature and able to handle disappointment as he is he might have said something along the lines of 'Ah well I distracted him for you, you're welcome.'
Nah, just kidding. He totally says it.
"I distracted him for you. You're welcome." Fortunately the injury to Koa's pride is slight; if there's anyone he can handle being shown up by, it is a demigod. The invitation for redemption is immediately taken up; while Pipsqueak obligingly chases rocks, the Accepted knocks another arrow, peering into the vines. To his left, a tell-tale squawk: he turns slowly, taking the void messenger into his sights, the string pulled taut against his ear. And though this time the arrow flies true, the cursed creature seems to predict the attack. At the last minute it darts away, leaving Koa's projectile embedded in the branch where it had just been.
This time Koa can't hide his disappointment, frustration tugging at his mouth. "Obviously I need more practice with bows," the Dragoon grumbles, annoyance only souring as the insolent bird alights upon the just-show arrow. Its caw drips mockery and taunting, making Koa's stomach flip.
I've done nothing wrong Except for all the atrocities
How like a man to take credit for a woman’s efforts.
Her response was an immediate glare in his direction, with a very sharp and pointed segment of words behind her teeth. Instead of unfurling any of them, the depth of her vengeance would take form in other moments and figments, already plotting some other portions where the Dragoon would suffer greatly. “Sure,” she offered in an overly-sweet tone, which should’ve conveyed and meant danger.
As he failed on his next round, she tilted her head, almost amused. “Damn shame,” she tutted. Now being purposefully irritating, she waited, a multitude of plots forming in her brain, and not one of them kind. “Want me to get it for you?”
Having grown up in the shadow of incredibly capable women (see: his mother and Anju) and with a younger sister at his side, Koa has the utmost respect for a woman's capabilities. He is also a boy, and remarkably adept at putting his foot so deep into his mouth it threatens to come out the other end. So while he's able to recognize the deadly sweetness in Melita's tone, he's incapable of doing anything to defuse it except to keep keeping on, deeper into the danger zone.
The offer to go retrieve the arrow feels like an olive branch (it's not, dumbass), though Koa is hesitant to accept. Eyeing the arrow and the bird it carries, the Dragoon twists his mouth. "If you want, but I'm not sure it's safe to get that close to one while it's alive...?" He'd rather risk the arrow than the Honeybee, he means - though if she misinterprets it, can either of them be blamed?
I've done nothing wrong Except for all the atrocities
She rolled her eyes, albeit dramatically and in some notion of overkill, before snagging at the lightning contorted edges of her quiver. “Not like that,” obviously would’ve hung in the air too – but she’d show him. Really, she didn’t need to – Melita knew the depths and experience she had in her weaponry, had stuck and held fast to it when they were what helped her survive. Easier to fight when one had the strength, multitudes, and expanse to do it; and she didn’t crumble, didn’t fold, didn’t stumble around, she knew her worth –
Uncertain who she was trying to convince any longer, she shot the arrow in sparks and slivers, watching as the electrical waves snapped and coerced until the crow ran out of options quickly. It strived to take off, but ended up pummeled directly in the wing, and the impact left it zapped, electrocuted, and dead before it hit the ground.
Snaking her head back towards Koa, as Sila retrieved the arrow still along the tree, her eyes narrowed, expecting some sarcastic or asinine remark. If he dared, she supposed she’d simply assure he’d never have to wear shoes again. “Do you want to learn?” She said instead, jutting her jawline towards his poorly aimed bow as her dragon dropped the arrow at his feet.
Oh, not the arrow, the bird. Gotcha gotcha. Koa watches curiously as Mel reaches in her quiver again, eyes widening perceptibly at the electricity that sparkles there. Silver snaps illuminate the wooden shaft, and as it flies it looks like a lightning bolt, straight ahead as fast as light and directly into the cawing crow. With a final mocking croak the void beast crumples into death, a gently smoking corpse left behind and---
--- "Holy shit, dude, that was awesome!"
All his trepidation is left behind, coiling like the smoke that still emanates from the corpse. "Fuck yeah I wanna learn," he grins, rocking eagerly onto the balls of his feet and back down to his heels. Reaching for the arrow (and offering Sila a grateful pat on the head, should the aloof dragon accept), Koa once more knocks his ammunition, though he doesn't pull the string taut yet. Instead he looks eagerly to Melita, copper eyes glittering with the anticipation of a student in his favorite subject, waiting impatiently to learn.
I've done nothing wrong Except for all the atrocities
She smirked at his approval; but didn’t let anything get forgotten in those moments of pride and satisfaction. Keeping her bow carefully in her arms, she walked back to Koa, watching as he notched another arrow and waited for some instruction. Now, she could be a real piece of shit and grant him some horrific advice where he’d get his own body somehow lopped off, but she’d save the torture for another outrageous comment made or something. She figured one of her points had at least been made.
“When you’re aiming, a lot of people want to use the bow. But it must be your eye. Your sight pinpoints on the target, not the weapon itself.” Picking her own armament back up, she demonstrated by placing a plain arrow along its string, then narrowed her gaze, selecting a nearby tree. “Like there, for instance. I want it right in the center.” Where there was a dark trace of bark, browner than the rest. Releasing her arrow, it shot straight into the sienna highlights, demonstrating her semantics.
Then she lowered it, jutting her jawline towards where everything remained. “You try.”
He tries his best to mimic her stance - difficult given their significant differences in height and build, but the Dragoon does his best. An elbow comes up; his shoulders drop down; he takes a breath, forcing tight muscles to somewhat relax. It must be your eye isn't new to the lad, having been trained in weaponry since he could hold a sword. And yet somehow he's failed to master the concept.
Maybe today's the day.
With a resonant twang! the arrow flies, tracking an elegant path into the vines. Koa's aimed for Melita's arrow, and while he doesn't pull off a dramatic split-it-through-the-middle landing, his projectile does land within an inch of hers, so he's calling it a win. "Dude, yo, did you see that?!" he asks, turning to Mel with wonder in his eyes and pointing at the not-bull's-eye. "That was way better! You rock!" A companionable punch against her shoulder punctuates the exclamation, backlit by his vibrant grin.
A grin that falters as a new sound begins to rumble in the vines. "...What...?" Turning back to the Grotto's entrance, he catches sight of Pipsqueak darting out from the depths, screeching her panic as she goes. And then, behind her, a swarm of purple, and...
...oh gods...
...So many snakes.
"Fuck!" Koa can't think, only react. Abandoning the bow in favor of the chakram, the Dragoon readies for an attack, his bright eyes calculating the approach. Electricity crackles over the metal as he waits, then swipes it forward, the blow slicing through the first two matas from ten feet away. He doesn't check on Melita's safety - he has absolute faith that if either of them is in any danger, it's not the Honeybee. But he does offer a single suggestion: "Maybe time for ducks?"
Abyssal Mata Mata (Uncommon): The Mata Mata, twisted by void corruption, have raven's wings of inky darkness. These Abyssal Mata Matas dwell in the void-laden Grotto, their eyes glowing with the shadows of the abyss. Encounters with Abyssal Mata Matas bring an unsettling aura of void-wrought foreboding.
I've done nothing wrong Except for all the atrocities
Melita had never bothered to hide her smug satisfaction and pride, so it spread along her features the moment his arrow struck near hers; a little pat on the shoulder courtesy of the Honeybee’s infinite wisdom on the nature of weapons. And she would’ve continued and progressed in the lesson (and probably begun to enforce a multitude of other necessities, stances, and parameters), when there were other things suddenly out in the midst –
And she heaved a sigh, as if bothered by the whole thing.
Oh well, bloodshed it was.
Fangorn and Sila scurried out of the way as she readied her incantations. “Can’t promise the ducks,” she mentioned off-handedly, and probably by way of warning, as she began to summon the chaotic shambles.
Then there was a loud raucous of applause across their newfound battleground; which, to be fair, did startle some of the snakes as she rolled her eyes.
Koa would never comment out loud on the practicality of Melita's abilities, but as applause bursts out among the vines, can the boy really be blamed for thinking maybe she should stick to arrows? Never mind that he was the one to suggest ducks. At least the thunderous round of applause serves to startle some of the snakes, sending three or four nope'ing right back into the tangled Grotto.
For the eight or so remaining? Well, violence it would be.
He manages to cut through another one before they split, three flying straight at the Dragoon. The first one smashes into Koa's raised arm with a gentle whump. So soft, in fact, is the impact that one might even have laughed it off indulgently, calling the little serpent cute for its effort to do a cheeky bite.
Except Koa is feeling decidedly un-indulgent; indeed, he's beginning to fear that this is a precursor to something much, much worse. "Get the fuck off!" the Dragoon snarls, grabbing the mata by its long body and hurling it to the ground, where it's swiftly met by the heel of a boot. Pip snaps up to grab another, her needle sharp teeth tearing into corrupt flesh, fire leaving the smell of burnt, putrid meat to waft throughout the Grotto.