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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!
i can't help it if i want to kiss you in the rain, so
The Sugar Tide bobbed gently on the swell, tethered just offshore like a sea-glass jewel tossed up from the depths. The sun glared down from its throne above Torchline, but Flora, sprawled along the cushioned bench at the stern, looked positively serene beneath it. A wrap dress in a vivid, ocean-hued print clung lazily to her curves, one leg stretched out and glistening with the shimmer of sun-oil, the other bent at the knee and bouncing faintly to some imaginary rhythm. Gold jewelry caught the light with every movement, rings and bangles warm against sun-soaked skin.
Spice, her ever-diligent cooling companion, flitted overhead in lazy loops, a soft mist trailing from her tiny jaws. It kissed Flora’s skin in delicate bursts—just enough to keep the heat bearable, not enough to disturb the glorious splendour of the moment.
One hand lazily adjusted her sunglasses while the other rested across her stomach, her fingers twined with a bit of spare rigging she'd been idly knotting and unknotting for the past ten minutes. Every so often her gaze would flick to the shoreline, half-lidded and lazy, waiting for the distinctive silhouette of her father returning from the Hanged Man, hopefully with a bottle of something brash and celebratory. Something worthy of smashing against her hull.
A soft trill cuts through the air towards The Sugar Tide to herald Ronin's approach; not from the Knight, but from Sugar as she freewheels overhead like a pale streamer in the cloudless sky. The little dragon swoops low enough to snap playful little teeth at Spice (her fellow icy companion one of the rare few graced with her immediate affection) before she's off again, fanning her wings against the sea breeze.
"Don't yell at me if this one is too cheap - or too expensive," Ronin calls with a lopsided grin towards Flora. His footsteps have picked up as he moved from sand to the docks. He raises a bottle that's unmistakeably champagne, though he trusts his daughter to tell him whether it's any good or not. Approaching The Sugar Tide, he pushes his sunglasses up atop his head to regard her and how utterly comfortable she seems.
"Surprised you aren't throwing a party for this," he admits, raising his eyebrows. "You sure my presence is going to be enough for such an occasion?"
i can't help it if i want to kiss you in the rain, so
Spice shrieked with delighted outrage as Sugar swooped past, twirling into a blur of white wings and mist to chase after her friend with all the grace of a bottle rocket. The moment they were airborne together, Flora sat up with a lazy stretch, her wrap dress sliding a little off one shoulder as she blinked against the sun and pushed her sunglasses up into her curls.
"Not my bar anymore, so I’m not the one who has to care what it costs," she called back easily, smirking at the glint of the champagne bottle in Ronin’s hand. Flora reached for the towel draped beside her to mop a bit of mist from her shoulder compliments of Spice, sighing through her nose. "Last party didn’t really go the way I wanted it to," she admitted, with a wrinkle of her nose. "So I’m cooling it on parties for a bit."
Her smile tilted up again as she eyed the bottle. "Besides, Jack said that this was meant to be more of an offering to the gods and heralds, and who better to help than someone whose basically had interactions with them all?"
Smirking to watch the two dragons shoot off into the sky for a bit of much needed play, Ronin remains on the dock as Flora languidly gets herself upright, the Knight gesturing beside him expectantly. He hasn't christened many ships, but he's pretty sure that the champagne bottle needs to be smashed against the outside of it. "It wasn't the cost so much as the quality," he says, weighing the bottle in his hands as if trying to see whether that will give him any idea how good it might be. "I figured the sea would be resentful of shitty champagne, or something." It sounds about right in his mind.
Raising a brow at the mention of her previous party - for Ronin of course, it had seemed to go exactly as most other big parties in The Hanged Man (that is to say, messily), and he'd spent the majority of the night sitting with Remi and Isla and her hopefully-still-boyfriend. "Well, people in Haulani are still complimenting it," he says, "so you must've done something right."
Then she drops a certain asshole captain's name into it and the Knight's expression darkens considerably, quite without his own permission. "I wasn't aware we cared all that much what Jack says any more."
i can't help it if i want to kiss you in the rain, so
Flora rose with the same languid grace she'd shown while lounging, her sun-warmed limbs stretching under the soft tug of the sea breeze. Her wrap dress fluttered as she padded barefoot toward the bow, hand held out with imperious expectation as she peered down at the Knight.
Once his hand was in hers, she hopped lightly to the dock, the wood warm under her feet. Taking the champagne with a little hum of approval, she tilted it to eye the label, then tilted her gaze toward him with just as much scrutiny. "People in Haulani are also still complimenting that band that played during LongNight five years ago, so I don’t know if that counts as a reliable metric," she said dryly, though her smile softened, clearly appreciating the sentiment behind Ronin's words regardless of whether or not it was true.. With an affectionate bump of her shoulder against his arm, she let the comment settle as the weight of Jack’s name hung between them.
Her expression twisted, lips twitching into a pout that didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Yeah, well," she murmured, "when it comes to boats and sails and sea curses, I’d be stupid not to take his advice." Her thumb rolled over the foil of the bottle absently. Even if he did stomp on her heart with a pair of salt-crusted boots and then sail away like it was just another Tuesday.
Glancing at the bow and then the bottle, Flora glances up at Ronin a touch skeptically. "Maybe I should have had you bring a backup."
"Well, given that your party was full of people from Haulani to begin with, maybe you should take that with a grain of salt," Ronin fires back, smirking and taking her hand to help her down onto the dock. "Well, plus or minus a few stragglers from out of town," he adds, because yes, there had also been a lot of Flora's friends from other regions there too.
Glancing from the champagne to The Sugar Tide, the Knight wrinkles his nose at the idea of taking anything from the captain who had broken his daughter's heart, apart from, you know, his pride and his balls. "If you insist," he mutters, before he turns to look at her properly, tilting his head at the idea of a backup. "I could still go and get one," he suggests.
"Though - and forgive me, because I might be wrong - I think usually people tie the bottle to some rope and... swing it into the bow to break it?" Though he supposes just... lobbing the champagne will do as well.
i can't help it if i want to kiss you in the rain, so
Flora blinked at him, one perfectly arched brow lifting. "Rope?" she repeated, like the word itself was one she hadn't heard before. "I was fully planning to just bash it against the hull. Or, now that I’m down here—" She turned, eyeing the Sugar Tide’s elegant profile with a speculative glint, "—chuck it like a javelin and hope for the best."
But then inspiration struck, bright and immediate, and her gasp was sharp enough to make a few nearby hels take off. "Wait—wait wait wait." The champagne was thrust back into Ronin’s hands without preamble, the force of her enthusiasm giving it the same weight as a royal decree. "Hold this."
Bare feet slapping lightly against the dock, she darted back to the bow of her ship and scrambled up the rope ladder, the flutter of her sundress flashing coral and gold against the wood. "Come on," she called down to him, eyes gleaming like sea glass in sunlight. "We're gonna do this right." Her hands windmilled to encourage urgency.
Ronin opens his mouth to comment - on the bashing or the yeeting of the champagne bottle and everything that might go wrong as a result - before absolutely changing his mind, biting back his smile behind an expression that tries hard to be curious and interested as he watches his daughter. "Mmhm," he says slowly, trying not to jump as well as the hels nearby scatter. "I'm waiting, I promise," he adds through a soft chuckle, grabbing at the champagne bottle as best he can lest it slip out of his hands and smash on the dock - or fall into the surf.
Then Flora is gone and the Knight is left lingering in place, sweat rolling down the back of his neck and between his shoulder blades, his mouth suddenly dry and eager for the taste of, yes, champagne. Blinking up at Flora as he's summoned to come with her, Ronin takes a second or two before he realises he should actually be moving, and it's with quick, sure footsteps that he follows his daughter up onto the deck of The Sugar Tide, the bottle tucked carefully under one arm.
i can't help it if i want to kiss you in the rain, so
Flora didn’t answer with words, just a mysterious little chuckle that said you’ll see and the soft, knowing glint of mischief in her eyes. Instead, she turned toward the helm with an unhurried ease that belied the thrill building in her chest, undoing the moorings with the same casual grace she might use to untie a ribbon from her hair.
The Sugar Tide gave a gentle lurch as she turned its prow skyward, sails shifting with a lazy rustle as the enchantments woven into its bones answered her touch. Rather than skimming across the harbour, the little ship lifted steadily up, wind curling around the deck like a lover’s hand. It was Flora’s first time flying her new ship with anyone else aboard, and though her fingers were a touch tighter on the wheel than she’d ever admit, her expression was nothing but confident sunlight.
She didn’t speak until they were well above the masts and away from other vessels, the Sugar Tide drifting free in the sea-salted air. Then—her curls lifted by the breeze, her wrap dress clinging to sun-warmed limbs—Flora turned to face the Knight, beaming.
"Okay. Here’s what we’re gonna do." She held out a hand for the bottle, her other already gesturing to the side of the ship. "You’re going to spread your wings, pick me up and carry me over, and I’m going to christen this ship myself, no ropes required."
With no telepathy and without Flora being able to use the Attuned bond, Ronin is left quite in the dark on the deck with the bottle of champagne, eyebrows softly raised as if expecting all of this to make sense eventually. He at least realises at some point that the Doubletake is arranging to take The Sugar Tide on a voyage, though it's only as the world shifts under his feet that he realises they're going up instead of sailing out, and he reaches to grip the railing with one hand. (She'll kill him if he drops the bottle and he knows it).
"Gods, you didn't waste time with this," Ronin breathes, clearly impressed in his tone if not by the obvious, boyish grin that spreads across his face. Waiting until they're drifting steadily through clouds and away from the main dock, the Knight straightens up and passes Flora the champagne as he waits for instructions.
Tilting his head, his smile growing mischievous and conspiring, he nods his acquiescence and lets pale draconic wings burst from his shoulders, spreading wide to warm in the sunshine. "Alright, hold tight," he says - to him and to the alcohol - before scooping her into his arms and hopping overboard.
A few hard beats of his wings keeps them airborne, Ronin directing them up to the bow of the ship where Flora can properly christen her at last.
i can't help it if i want to kiss you in the rain, so
Flora preens, sunlight catching on the sweep of her cheek as she lifts her chin with smug satisfaction. "Of course I didn’t waste time," she calls over the wind, curls fluttering wildly around her face like banners in a breeze. "You think I was gonna let her sit there tied up like some boring pleasure yacht? Please." Also, newly single and banned from half of Torchline, what else was she meant to do with her time?
She adjusts her grip on the champagne bottle, fingers tightening around the neck as Ronin’s wings unfurl in a shimmer of pale light. When he steps toward her, she doesn’t hesitate—just steps easily into his arms with the kind of trust she doesn’t offer lightly, looping her arms around his neck as though she’s done this a hundred times. Her grin softens, just slightly, as the Sugar Tide drifts beneath them, suspended like a dream in the sea-salted sky.
As Ronin carries her overboard, Flora’s eyes fix on the elegant curve of the bow. The light here is golden, cut through with salt and cloud, the kind of moment that feels like it should be important—and she means to make it so. "Alright!" she announces to the open sky, loud and theatrical, voice ringing with mock-seriousness as they hover into place. "I hereby christen this ship The Sugar Tide! May she sail smooth, fly fast, and be utterly unbothered by gods or heralds, or anyone else who'd try to fuck with her!"
She splashes the champagne smartly against the side of the ship, bubbles cascading down its gleaming hull like a toast to freedom. "Please and thanks," she adds sweetly.
Holding Flora aloft comfortably, exactly as if they've done this dozens of times, Ronin is honestly more worried about The Sugar Tide drifting off and not staying in place than he is about his own ability; luckily, he'll be able to fly after it if it tries to go on a captainless adventure by itself. Unable not to grin as the Doubletake's flawless theatrics ring out into the sky, swallowed up by the breeze with the clouds as a rapt audience, the Knight ensures he turns his face away from the smashing glass, though he's more than happy to be showered with champagne.
"To The Sugar Tide!" he echoes, beaming and tightening his grip on Flora to take them up a few beats and let her land back upon the deck of the little skyship. "May all who sail on her return home safely," he adds in a slightly softer voice, landing beside her and tucking his wings away, leaning in to kiss Flora's cheek. "Congratulations on her official christening."
i can't help it if i want to kiss you in the rain, so
Flora grins, radiant and satisfied, like she’s just won something—and honestly, maybe she has. As Ronin sets her back down on the polished deck, she steps out of his arms with the kind of graceful flourish that would make any stage performer jealous, brushing invisible dust from her dress like it took real work to be that fabulous. The kiss to her cheek earns a pleased little hum, curls bouncing as she glances up at him, warm and golden in every way.
"To The Sugar Tide," she echoes, softer now, her gaze flicking to the gleaming stretch of hull as if she can already see all the stories the ship will collect. But then she tilts her head, expression shifting to something a little more thoughtful. "Hey," she says, turning toward the aft deck where a small arrangement of jewel-toned pillows is nestled beneath the rail. "You got a minute to chat?"
Without waiting for an answer—because of course he does—she drops down into the pillows with a sigh, legs folding easily beneath her as she pats the spot beside her in invitation.
Checking himself over for bits of broken glass and seeming satisfied that there isn't any, Ronin brushes off his loose linen shirt and glances up at the sound of Flora's call, already finding her amongst the cushions on the aft deck. "Yeah, sure," he says easily, ruffling a hand back through his wind-tossed hair and stepping across the deck to plop down next to the Doubletake, leaning back on one hand. Up here the world feels both louder and more quiet than down on the shores of the region, and he can almost imagine that there's no Starfall lurking nearby if he tries hard enough.
"What's up?" he asks, assuming he's about to be asked to go fetch something or to lend something or to provide another sort of favour. All of which he's happy to do, of course, providing the end result doesn't benefit a certain captain. Ronin might draw a hard stop at that.
