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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!
"Asta! Over here." She spots the Ancient walking down the blackened sand towards her, raising an easy smile and a hand to summon him to her side. Having arrived a few minutes prior, she's already scoped the area, noting that the shells hug the coast rather than the blistering heat of the lava and volcanic rocks, and she points to the lapping water. "Come on. There should be some shells along the shore here."
Thal walks along the sand, her steps steady and elegant despite the shifting of ground beneath her boots, speaking of years amongst the waves and their beaches. Her blue eyes scan the area to find multitudes of small or broken shells littering waterlines and rock coves, their alabaster colorings stark against the darkness. They're easy to find, but the hard part will be finding a whole, intact conch shell.
Tapping a cracked oyster with her toe, she says casually, "My talk with Flora went well." She looks up to shoot him a satisfied grin, a glimmer of excitement in her eyes. It shouldn't come as any surprise to him, but she's happy to share the news, considering his contribution to her recruitment.
He hears her call out to him moments before he spots her against the backdrop of Apopo. Not that the butcher would complain any if she did sneak up on him – he’d probably wonder how she’d managed it, but for the moment he’s quite content to divert his course to let his long strides guide him toward her.
They meet part way and the butcher follows where she points, scanning the shells he can see dotting the surface. “A conch shell, correct? Intact?” He asks, cocking his gaze toward her as they begin to look, as his wingtip shoes poke and prod at a clam shell poking up from the sand. Not at all what they needed.
Luckily his attention is dragged away by her voice, his horned head immediately swinging toward her with a low chuckle. “Did it?” He pries not at all subtly, his lips quirking into a small smirk. “Do not keep me in suspense, darling.” Comes the playful whine, the dramatic flick of his tail, just short of pressing the back of his hand to his forehead in exasperation.
No, instead the butcher continues to look for the shell in question.
"Correct. The kind you can hear the ocean in." At least that's the tale people tell themselves.
Shrugging her shoulders, she proceeds down the shore, hands in her pockets as she surveys the array of shells - none of which are what she needs. "There's honestly not much to tell." It wasn't like Flora had quizzed or tested her. If anything, it felt a little like an interview. Chuckling, she glances sidelong at Asta as she taps another alabaster shell with her foot. "She seemed a little suspicious about my ability to 'follow orders' - rightfully so - but I think I convinced her." Now only time would tell if things would work out, if Flora would continue to approve of her decision - or come to regret it. Regardless, the decision was made.
Thal turns around to walk backwards in the sand, letting her face the Butcher straight on as she opens her arms before pausing dramatically. "So, you are looking at the newest member of the 'Lost and Found.'" She gives him a flourish of a bow, a wolfish grin on her features as looks up through the curtain of her dark hair, proof in her use of the guild's 'proper' name.
“Something I have never done, admittedly.” Chuckling lightly, he imagines it would be just a muffled sound of whatever occurred outside of it — and maybe that’s what the sounds of the ocean was, a muffled cataclysm of everything that occurred beneath its waves, all collided into one.
Either way, the butcher continues to look for shells, the tip of his boot brushing aside some kelp as he listens and interjects with her excitement, barking a soft laugh of surprise to hear that Flora wasn’t sure about her ability to follow directions. “Hmm, I cannot imagine why, darling.” Looking up toward her with a honeyed glint of humor in his gaze, he meets her attention as she starts walking backwards, pausing long enough to give quite the low bow.
One that Asta’s quite ready to return, sweeping a hand against the warm buttons of his waistcoat as he bows back to her and draws back up to his full height. “Congratulations.” He boasts toward her before he’s easily picking up speed with his long legs. Spotting a few more pale shells in the distance, he nudges her with his elbow. “I imagine your abilities to find lost things are going to be very much welcome.” He teases, smirking over at her.
04-17-2025, 12:27 PM (This post was last modified: 04-18-2025, 11:09 AM by Thalassa.)
Thalassa
Surprise crosses her features, and Thal raises an eyebrow in playful consideration. "I suppose I can let you try it out before I take it to Dygra." Because as mundane as it seems, they're more fun than she'll admit, having collected a few throughout her travels. Maybe it's just her and the whole 'connection to the sea' nonsense, but the sound is soothing and enchanting in its own silly way.
Thal raising a hand to her chest in a 'Who me?' motion as she says 'defensively.' "Hey. I can follow orders." Key word being 'can' and leaving out the caveat of 'when they suit me.' The Queen may have decided to trust her, but Thal won't let it be known that she's willing to do as she's told within the Thieves Guild, lest people start getting the wrong idea about her.
Accepting Asta's congratulations with a twirl of her hand, she spins on her heels to continue the search, a melodic hum easing through the crooked smirk of her lips. "Hmm. I should probably tell you where I 'found' that mirror I gave you for your birthday..." She shoots him a cunning wink that says he'll have to ask her to find out, even if she's dying to know what he thinks of her snag.
“Oh, so she can follow orders.” He trills playfully, as if they’re having a conversation about Thalassa without the Ancient being around, like he’s talking to some invisible figure as they search for the shells. Or perhaps the butcher is simply speaking to the shells?
Either way, the low rumble of a chuckle accentuates his playful teasing, for the bow he offers her in return as they pause their search. But she spins on her heel and twirls her hand and the butcher’s long strides bring him right back up to her side, tail wagging contently behind him. “Oh? Where was it lost?” He probes with a snort, still not fully having made the connection that he’d seen the mirror in action in the past.
It’s fine, Thal can be the sole witness to his embarrassment. One he staves off even longer as he nudges a few more shells with the tip of his shoe, flipping over a sand dollar in the process but still finding no conch shell.
Playing along like she's not the one they're talking about, she gives him a sharp grin full of dark implications and darker humor. "She prefers to take them from strong, handsome men who plan to do unspeakable things to her - but she can be convinced at times." Thal shoots him a playful wink, the blue of her eyes suspiciously bright as she turns to continue the search.
Enjoying the juicy piece of information she holds, Thal picks up a whole (not conch) shell to inspect it, as if she isn't about to blow Asta's mind. "It 'fell' out of a pretty blonde's bag." With a flick of her wrist, she tosses the shell back into the sand, letting her gaze find the Butcher for the briefest of teasing second, the mischievous smile on her lips daring him to connect the dots as she says, "She hadn't the faintest idea when she invited me to her little club." Although, honestly, she didn't think the Queen would care either way, getting the feeling she would just laugh in amusement, perhaps even be mildly impressed.
Her quip about herself does have a bark of a laugh leaving the butcher with a hint of surprise. The joke is one that lingers, leaving his grin full and amused. “Oh? Are those all of her requirements?” He asks, as if this mock conversation was one that still didn’t have Thalassa in it, talking about her rather than to her, the amusement remains.
The mention of the mirror falling out of a pretty blonde wig, the butcher’s long strides slow, twisting slightly to peer back at Thal with the shell with a raise of his brow and a smirk. “There are many pretty blondes about.” He hums, because if it wasn’t obvious to Thalassa, the butcher has always had a type. But as she continues, his low rumble of a laugh appears again, tail wagging playfully like a fyrhund’s might.
“Mm, I see. I should have recognized it, then.” Tapping his long fingers on the buttons of his waistcoat, there’s the internal grimace, before he flashes her a small smirk, bypassing it for a bit of a lore drop. “You gifted me a pocket mirror that my ex-girlfriend lost.” He hums with all kinds of dramatics, dark eyes squinting toward her in his peripheral as if he might be able to gauge her reaction without being so apparent as to stare.
Even if his and Flora’s relationship hadn’t lasted that long and hadn’t been fully invested in on the butcher’s side (and his constant obliviousness), it didn’t deny the fact that he and Flora had dated for a time. However short it was.
Whether she's talking in third person or not, they both know she has high expectations of people, her willingness to fall in line often needing to be forced through orders, brute strength, or 'favors.' The mischief flashes for a second as she looks to Asta. "Requirements for following orders? That's about it. She's a simple woman, really." The last line is accompanied by a hand to her chest, eyes full of 'innocence' as if her request isn't that hard really, as if she isn't an enigma wrapped in darkness and chaos with a history just as complicated. Just a simple woman asking a simple thing of the world: to bend at the knees.
Well, Thal can't argue with Asta there, and she lets out a low hum of appreciation for his words before he's barking out a laugh. Her eyes widen in even greater delight, a disbelieving laugh chiming to join. The irony. It certainly makes her look at Asta a little different, knowing he'd been involved with Flora before deciding on Danta - not in a bad way, but... curious. The lilt of her head says it all as she asks, "Oh? How have I not heard this lovely piece of gossip?"
“Ah, yes, my mistake. Quite a simple rule book.” He corrects himself with a chuckle, watching her dramatics as her hand finds her chest as if she’s solemnly swearing something into existence. He sees through it, though, with her penchant of disappearing into the shadows, of fighting strongly and precisely like the sharpened blade she’s become.
Certainly not the doe eyed mermaid she was once before.
And in lieu of his own embarrassment, the butcher tosses out a breadcrumb, one that has him unsure whether or not it was new information, and if it was perhaps it would distract from the way his cheeks flare a touch red with his awkwardness. “It was not a long relationship, to be fair. And I was admittedly oblivious for much of it.” Snorting softly, he steps down the beach further and spots a shell sticking out of the sand. Crouching before it to pluck it from the sand, he continues. “It began as a playful bargain of going on a date, however I was not fully aware of how dates worked these days.” He chuckles softly, content for the courting and the shopping as opposed to anything else. “So it was rife with miscommunication from the start.” Shrugging casually, he hoists a fully intact conch shell like it’s a prize, grinning over his shoulder at her.
Pointing a threat, Thal's eyes narrow. "And don't you forget it." She smiles, somehow confident that Asta would be the last person to misjudge her, making her all the happier to have someone who understands.
Noting the pink tinge of his cheeks, Thal's smile turns a little sharper, especially knowing that she has nothing of equal value for him to tease about. She clicks her tongue and shakes her head, her boot intentionally crunching on a broken shell. "Sounds about right." Because although she may be a 'simple woman,' she knows that not many are, dependent saps who want reassurance every hour of the day. Shrugging her shoulders, she says dismissively, "Hence why I don't bother with such things." 'Things' being dating and romantic relationships, and worst of all - intimacy.
Asta's grin is met with one of her own as she moves to pluck the conch shell from his hands, inspecting it for any signs of damage like a professional shell appraiser at a pawn shop. When she finds none, she lets out a pleased hum through her smirk, shooting him an approving nod. "Nice work."
Thal extends her arm to offer the shell back, but she keeps it just out of reach, a mischievous look on her face as she lays out the bargain. "Before I let you take a listen, I have to know... how did you think dating worked?" Her laughter is chiming amusement, a twinkle of wicked curiosity on her face to know how the Butcher might have misunderstood current customs enough to ruin things with Flora.
How could he forget it? It’s cemented now, even as the butcher drifts down the beach in search of the conch shells. “Mm, it’s different with Danta.” He explains, because unfortunately, they’d both fallen in love before his dates with Flora, they had just been too stubborn to admit it until everything reached a breaking point.
Ah, but then he’s found the conch shell and he remains crouched there as he hoists it up for her to come and look at. Giving it over easily, his tail coils on the ground, the ashen tip flicking some sand up as his dark gaze looks up at her for once. Figuring she likely appreciated the rare opportunity, he remains, sinking down onto his knees in the sand to get a bit more comfortable.
Her question, though, sparks a low chuckle and a roll of his eyes. “Courting, obviously.” He scoffs like it was common knowledge. “Multitudes of days spent with one another shopping or eating at a cafe, or wandering through a park or field.” He lists off a few before his horned head tilts toward her. “And with my preference of not being touched, it made sense to me. However, there are a select few who are allowed without losing a finger.” Flashing a wink up at her and the show of his too sharp teeth in a playful grin of mischief, the butcher hopes she knows she is one of the rare few. “Anyway, you are young and I am sure you have dabbled, so you can imagine the confusion.”
He’d been surprised with the kiss on the first date, let alone everything else when he’d bit Flora and had the panic after she’d vanished via teleport of whether or not she was even alive after.
Asta would be right in his assumption of her vertical enjoyment, feeling almost like he's pledging to her as he kneels on the ground. Her smile stays firmly planted on her features as she listens to what the 'miscommunication' had been while looking down at Asta, very tempted to push him over with a light tap.
Thal isn't familiar with 'courting' (who even calls it that anymore), but as Asta explains, she thinks she gets his meaning. A light laugh crests between them, both flattered by her inclusion in his 'allowed to touch' group as well as the image of confusion when Flora wants to do more than just get coffee. "Considering how boring all that sounds, let's be glad that's in the past." Her sharp grin implies the long long time ago past that he hails from, where nonsensical 'courting' was how they chose to spend their life someone.
As for having 'dabbled' in dating herself, Thal shakes her head. "Not since being an Ancient, no. So if I have - " she shrugs her shoulders as if to say 'I don't remember.' Even more of a reason to avoid getting entangled in something so pointless. She'll stick to her steamy, unattached sexcapades, thank you very much.
Feeling that he'd held up his end of the bargain, she offers the conch shell as a prize, an excited grin on her face. "Take a listen."
A very dramatic gasp is inhaled, his dark brows lifting toward his widow's peak before he answers. “Speak for yourself!” Comes the playful chime, his dramatics softening for the laugh that bubbles from his chest. As she speaks next, though, his point is precisely what he’s trying to get at. Random, playful sexscapades that the butcher is very much not interested in.
As evidenced over and over again before he and Danta were together, from the multitudes of denials he’d made to the workers that knocked upon his door at the Dusklight. Still, he shrugs lightly as he peers up at her still, snorting a little to catch the gist. “Well, let me say that communication is vastly important.”
He takes the conch shell as Thal offers it, satisfied with his answer. And he can see her excitement light her up like she was made of fireflies, so it’s with a carefully indifferent shift to his face that the butcher places the conch shell to his pierced ear, hearing it clink against the metal.
Listening to it for a few moments, he snorts with a hint of surprise, brows lifting slightly as his dark gaze snaps to her. “Hmm.” Comes the playful start of the answer, pulling the conch shell away briefly to listen to the ocean before he replaces it to listen. “It truly does sound like it, no?” He chuckles.
