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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!
It's been quite some time since Nova's been in Torchline, so the visit feels extremely overdue. She's missed seeing the ocean all the time, feeling the salty breeze kiss her cheeks, hearing the crash of waves, and don't get her started on the shops. Her favorite places had been here. Fabric stores, accessory shops, craft stalls, and snacks - gods, she misses Torchline snacks. As it is, she can smell the fried fish and baked oysters, eyes catching on one of her favorite smoothie places.
Gasping, she rushes forward to that familiar place, drinking in the various flavors with a hunger that has her tasting them on her lips. She quickly orders a Blue-Darey Dream that apparently has hints of lemon and strawberry mixed in! However, when she spots the shaved ice, she brightens and immediately orders one of those too, having them put every color and flavor on it so that it's practically dripping in vibrancy. Her blue eyes are wide and shimmering as she accepts the smoothie and shaved ice, spinning around to skip towards a nearby bench.
She takes her place there, perched on the wood like a bird waiting to take flight again. Then she's diving into the ice, taking a giant bite as she bounces and wiggles from her perch. After a moment of shock from the cold, she giggles and takes a bigger bite, her eyes traveling out to the people who walk by and the birds hopping along in search of dropped morsels of food.
"Wow," comes the soft remark, the word carrying more of the emphasis than the tone or volume. "That's the most colors on that I've ever seen." Fern's bright gaze is solidly locked on the multicolored pinwheel of ice currently being devoured by the woman. "What does that even taste like?" In her own hands, Fern is clutching a sno-cone of fruit punch, one bright red bead dribbling down the side already. Her mouth snakes out to catch it, no drop of nectar wasted, tongue already bright red with proof of some earlier licks.
"Mine is fruit punch," she offers, hopping up on the seat next to Nova with a certain practice that suggests this is a frequent spot for her. "Although tiger's blood is also good. Except, don't worry, it's not real tiger's blood." She wrinkles her nose at the idea, then turns a very grave expression to Nova. "I checked already." Which means, she asked the vendor of the shaved ice, the fruit stand vendor, and her parents just to be sure. Ahead of them, the birds hop around with the easy, lazy fashion of those grown used to being fed. "They like it too." Cronching through an edge, lips peeled back from the kiss of the sugary cold, Fern carves through a bite size chunk. While that melts in her mouth, she pinches some off the top and scatters it out for the birds.
Turning her head at the sound of amazement, Nova is greeted by a young girl who has to be... what? Three? Surely she has to be a toddler? She certainly looks young, but that doesn't diminish her praise or compliments - at least that's how Nova interprets the statements. She beams a little brighter, a bit of starlight dazzling around her as a smile stretches the freckles on her face. "Right?! Isn't it pretty?!"
The question sparks another bite, her head tilting for no more than a second before she gives a confirming bob of her head. "Like a rainbow! Wanna try?" She offers out the cone for the young girl's consumption if she wishes, blue eyes shimmering like a world of possibilities and expectant approval.
Not in the least bit bothered by the company, Nova leans forward to look at the girl's ice, faintly recalling the various flavors she lists - particularly the tiger's blood, although she's quick to reassure that it's not actual blood. Pursing her newly stained lips, she says, "That's disappointing. I think that one's in here somewhere..." She twists the cone, eyes narrowing like she might be able to spot labels on them if she looks close enough. "Is it the orange one?"
Whether or not it is, she devours another bite, having to breath around the extreme cold of it as she watches the girl deposit some of her shaved ice across the ground. Swallowing, she gasps. "Oh! Fun!"
Locking onto a pair of birds, she searches for that glimmering sheen of the bond and compels them forward with a silent command of 'Come.' She giggles as she watches them hop forward on their tiny bird feet to stand in front of the girls. When they stop where she wants them to, Nova gives them a small smirk and sends down the bond, 'Open your mouths.'
Like two chicks waiting for food from their moms, they tilt their heads back and open their beaks so that the pieces of ice and syrup Nova drops from her fingers land perfectly in their mouths. For a moment, they just sit there, the ice melting onto their tongues as they watch and wait for the next command while the young hybrid takes another bite of her sno-cone. It's only after another few seconds that she realizes her mistake, blinking with surprise as she releases them to enjoy the snack without her influence. Their beaks snap closed, their heads bobbing as they swallow the treat they'd been forced to eat.
Fern isn't so certain she'd describe colored ice like this as pretty, especially not at the core where the colors start to mix and become a sort of, deep blurple (black purple). She would call it tasty, most likely. Perhaps, overwhelming, if only because the flavors all start to blur deeper in. She'd also say its colorful, which seems close enough to pretty for most people. "It's interesting!" She lalnds on instead, smiling around the sound of it to prove she means that positively, though she's never understood how interesting could be anything but.
A soft giggle escapes her, more relaxed than amused as Nova's bright gaze seems to catch more light and shine, full of hope and simple ease that isn't usually seen in adults. Fern's positive bags and shadows are part of puberty. "No, I'm good," she says with a soft shake of her head. "I switch flavors every day, and today is fruit punch day." Today is not rainbow medley day.
"What do you mean by disappointing?" Fern asks carefully, certain she heard Nova wrong, or the meaning has slipped past her. "You wouldn't actually want real tiger's blood on this, would you?" More than anything, the horror of it escapes it past, "it'd melt everything!" Cold clearly isn't an option, because then it's too thick and heavy.
The conversation cannot measure up to the adoration of the nearby birds. They snap up her flavored ice readily, and she's scattered enough that they each get some without argument. As Nova attempts though, Fern is just about to inform her that they shouldn't get too much, because it's a treat for them too and their bodies are much smaller. Instead, she's nearly as frozen as the birds, but her reason is due to concern. "Why did they do that?" she whispers with a frown. "Ive never seen that before. It was so... odd."
It's possible that Nova just skipped over the whole 'puberty' arc (spoiler: she did) and that's why she doesn't even appear a little bit bothered by the girl's rejection. It just means more for her, so she shrugs her shoulders, bobs her head, and dives in for another bite without any sign of offense. In fact, she appears resolutely approving of the girl's choice, grinning a colorful smile as she says, "I like your style!"
The girl's shock earns her a giggle and another uncaring shrug of her shoulders. "Maybe, but wouldn't it be so cool?!" The logistics of it don't really bother her. A little magic would fix that issue right up. But just being able to say she's eating tiger's blood would sound so intense and cool! Her eyes grow glimmering and distant at the thought, her head lifting as if she's considering making it herself now. "I bet it'd taste great in a shift." Ancients would probably also really enjoy it, but she's not sure how that would benefit her.
Then their attentions are on the birds as her bond summons them dutifully forward to receive their treats, dismissing them just as easily when the girl is marveling at the peculiarity of their actions. Nova tilts her head as she swallows another bite, happy to report, "Oh? That's cause I told them to!" Unaware that her actions might be cause for concern, she sits a little straighter, happy to demonstrate what she knows. "I can do it with cats too! See?!" The words slip past her tongue like a command, her mind reaching for that shimmering thread connecting her to the life around them. It encourages a cat forward, an orange tabby with a white belly that jumps up to sit properly between them, like just another one of the girls joining in on their afternoon snack. Nova offers them a little bit of ice before scratching them playfully beneath the chin, earning a low rumble of approval.
Blood, on its own, isn't the sort of things to make her squeamish. Little is, honestly, except what happens later evidently. "No...?" she offers warily to Nova's obvious exuberance. The stark difference of their feelings on the matter is starting to make her nervous because she can't catch sight of where the thread is that she needs to grab hold of to maintain understanding with this path of conversation. Not even the fact that Nova is calling it cool when Fern literally said it'd be hot, the woman's meaning not lost on her even if the use of that particular word chafes against Fern's point. It's not just the impractical temperature though, the entire thing is impractical.
"Real tiger's blood belongs inside the tigers." She frowns, the notion unraveling into a greater mess right before her very eyes. "Tigers don't produce enough offspring quickly enough to just be harvested for sno-cone toppings. When nature intends for something to be eaten regularly, it produces rapidly, like blink hares and birds." This, repeating back what she'd been taught when she had believed it might be real, the sense of it all plain as day to her now. "Besides, sno-cones are dessert, blood is not." Sugar could maybe be added to it, but the taste would still be all wrong.
The mention of a shift though makes Fern glance at Nova with a new kind of assessment. "You have a predator shift, then, I take it? What kind?" It would certainly make more sense why Nova might be craving blood. She'd seen the impacts of the beasts beneath the skin in her own family, and for herself, she's rather partial to the flavor of fish. Though she isn't about to ask for a sardine sno-cone.
With the birds at hand though, Fern's interest competes with the dawning worry over the creatures' wellbeing. Nova's explanation rapidly makes sense, especially on the heels of discovering she can shift, but it does little to erase Fern's frown. "Don't do that," she says sharply, a bitter pout steepling into the arc of her lips. The sharpness of the willy nilly ease with which Nova contorts the world around her splinters through Fern with a staggering effect. She leans abruptly away as the cat jumps up, crawling into a gollum-looking crouch on the bench instead, sno-cone wholly forgotten. "No! Don't!" She audibly hisses at the cat and nudges him away with her foot, desperate in her worry now.
The girl is suddenly saying a lot of words that Nova stops listening to about halfway through. She shrugs her shoulders. The supply and demand of tiger's blood or the logistics of pouring it over ice aren't really things she cares much about, not even enough to argue her own thoughts of a blood syrup being pretty cool.
Instead, she shifts easily to the next topic, perking to proudly announce, "A Tide Jaguar!" Giving the girl her full attention, she returns the question, curiosity making her eyes bright. "Do you have any shifts?"
The birds click their beaks as they're released from her hold, hopping away in a mixture of relief and confusion. As she watches them, the girl's voice cuts through, surprising Nova with its sharp edges and quiet command. Brows furrowing, she turns her head to look at her, trying to decipher the change in tone as much as the disapproval. "Why not?" But before an answer can be given, the orange tabby is joining them, sending the girl hissing and shoving and wasting a perfectly good sno-cone. Nova's compulsion loosens enough for the cat to hiss back, paw striking out into the air with an indignant sheen in its eyes.
Before it can scurry off, she tugs on the bond, bringing it into her lap where she smooths its bristling fur with a steadying hand, faintly aware of the resistance as it tries to escape. However, her eyes are meant only for the girl, their blue depths nearly glowing with contained annoyance. "Hey! That's rude!" She's tempted to show her what it's like to be shoved but Nova isn't nearly as willing to sacrifice the shaved ice in her hand.
Happy to let the bloody argument fade, especially in favor of much more even keel topics like what dangerous creature you can transform into, Fern is all ears as Nova relays tide jaguar. She appropriately ooohs at this, proudly adding a touch of her knowledge. "One of the few big cats that can't rely on nighttime to help them hunt." An interesting problem for them, although they clearly get along just fine even without the benefit of darkness and camouflage. Sometimes, dangerous things don't need to hide to be successful.
As for herself, Fern doesn't need much time to consider, having thought about it often. "Probably, but I haven't met it yet." Not for lack of training, gallavanting around the house on her hands and knees, making all manner of animal noises as if this alone could summon it forth. Both her parents have done some manner of explaining how to tap into the sensation of shifting skin, but because I want to figure out how to write it for the first time it hasn't happened yet. She isn't worried, yet, because she thinks maybe it's just a bit shy, which she can understand. "But my mom's an Ancient, and I don't have horns or a tail, sooo since my dad is an Attuned, I probably take after him. He can turn into a dog and we play fetch!"
Pleasant conversation about shifts becomes impossible once the birds, and later the cat, are compelled to act against their own will. Fern leaps dramatically off the bench and whirls around, cheeks puffy with a red anger that's rising to color her whole face, small fists balling at her sides as she scowls back at Nova and the cat that's been yanked back to her lap in an obvious continuation of broken choice. "YOU'RE RUDE!" she fires back, all previous vocabulary lost to a child's sputtering emotional response.
A strange, hot sensation crawls up her spine and prickles beneath her hair, something shifting beneath her skin hard enough to make her stomach clench and churn. Adrenaline rises like its own shift inside her, pupils widening with the base instinct that exists in nearly everything that's living, fight or flight. "How would you like it if I controlled YOU?!?" One hand lifts like a small claw, palm up and fingers faintly curled, as she tries to do just that. She concentrates, hard, attempting to assert her will over Nova. She imagines the woman stiffening on the bench, head lolling back, bending into uncomfortable ranges of her body as proof of how awful it is. Except, nothing happens, and Fern is left grunting with mounting frustration as the cat remains trapped on her lap.
"You're THE WORST!" she declares suddenly, rushing forward to try and shoo the cat free by her own hand, since her will isn't enough, and then dash away back towards where Isla should still be nearby. Instead, Fern's assault turns into talon and wing, a shrill cry parting from a half-ajar beak as the osprey beneath her skin appears for the first time. It's an awkward shuffle of feathers and feet, the raptor's wings flared tall for balance and threat, one taloned foot clinging to the bench edge while the other kicks out at Nova, while wide and startled amber eyes stare at the woman.
Nova narrows her eyes at the comment of her hunting ability. She does just fine, thank you very much. But she's quickly distracted by talk of shifts and parentage. Her face brightens, a colorful smile spreading across it. "That's so cool! My mom's a goddess and my dad has magic like me!" She tilts her chin up, chest puffing out with pride at her family. She's even ready to dote and brag on her siblings before they're suddenly at odds.
Clutching the shaved ice closer than the cat, Nova recoils at the outburst. Annoyance and indignation rise to meet it, magic flaring in answer. "It's not like I'm hurting them!" They got food and pets when she could easily make them fight each other or run into walls. In all, she's being nice to them, and yet, this girl stands here with hand outstretched like she plans to contort Nova into a cruel pretzel.
Uncertain whether that's even possible, she draws back her lips, fangs appearing as she prepares to defend against whatever might come at her. Tension rises in every muscle, skin bristling like fur threatening to break through. The break in concentration and mounting confrontation snap her control over the cat, causing it to hiss and leap from her lap, scattering the birds in a flurry of feathers just as the girl rushes for an attack.
Instinct has ice and wind whipping around her, slamming into the bird like a wall to shove her back. Fury glows in her eyes, magic whirling dangerously around her to protect from further assaults or insults as she shouts back, "And you're just JEALOUS!"
Goddess makes Fern's eyes go so wide they look like they might just pop out her skull and roll away. Admittedly, Fern is not well-versed on the gods, knowing enough about her aging up and some bits and pieces like anyone in Caido, but her nose is usually buried in the plants outside or the books that talk about them. She hasn't the time for divinity and demigods when there's mud pies to bake and sear cats to feed instead. So this is the first time she's ever considered someone being the daughter of a goddess, and it's a stunning revelation that promptly shuts her up and inclines the conversation onward and elsewhere.
The indignation of a bird of prey that's caught unawares, even by its own doing, is an immeasurable expression of inconvenience. Osprey-Fern gawks at Nova as if she's the one that's put them in this predicament, and that she's the one who must get them out of it. The look barely has time to register though before Fern is flapping in a most ungangly manner to regain balance against the onslaught of sudden wind and glittering frost, the departing cat barely clocked in the fray as her naturally aerial-inclined body responds like a kite for a moment.
Teetering from one wing to the other, never having flown before, it's alll Fern can do to keep upright as the gust forces her to backpedal to the ground a bit away from the bench. Her beak parts, small tongue lifting with a chiding screech that pierces the distance easily. All her feathers fluff up as she hits the ground, body drawn tall and sleek the instant after, mouth still ajar with a bewildered pant. Nova's bellowed outcry of jealousy lands somewhere, but Fern got an entire mixture of feelings in this instant and desperately wants nothing more than her mom now. Blinking, she turns tail and awkwardly takes her feathered legs for a run, wings held half-out at her sides, giving a whole new meaning to flipping the bird.
