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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!
"She is?" Knell blinks, filing away that piece of information to ask the priestess later, curious about exactly how old she is. The thought reminds her of one of their other conversations, recalling how her mom had talked about the few other Ancients from her time. Dantalion is the... Theocrat, if she remembers correctly (which she thinks she does), and he has blonde hair and diamond horns. This man does not. Which means... "That makes you Astaroth, right?" she asks, recalling the second name with a hopeful smile. Her mom says only good things about both of them, although Knell has been interested in meeting them herself.
The man's admission earns him more interest, and she leans forward with rapt curiosity to finally ask, "Because of your scars?" Her eyes flicker towards them before lifting back to his eyes. She can guess getting so many would not have been a fun experience, although she can only wonder at the extent of them, wanting to know just how far they go.
His request for her book is met with a buoyant nod of her head, red hair flaring around her freckled face as she chimes, "Mhm!" Knell leans back, attempting to heft the book from her lap towards him but barely managing to slide it over with a small grunt.
i think i'm the devil in disguise, here's my state of mind
“She is, yes.” He hums softly, his smile brightening a touch to see her rack through all of the names she knew. The one that slips from her lips has him chuckling softly, inclining his head in both agreement and confirmation. “Indeed it does. You may call me Asta if you like.” He offers, in case it was easier for her to say than his whole name.
But as she begins to lean forward, her question and gaze flicking to his scars have him keeping that smile on his face even if it was a bold question he isn’t sure quite how to answer. “No, no. My scars were placed before I became Ancient, as it turns out.” He hums, eyeing her curiously in case she didn’t know he hadn’t been born Ancient.
He asks for the book shortly after, though, and with her agreement he helps her slide the book over to his lap. Taking it into his hands, the butcher reaches into his coat pocket and finds a small feather, popping it in so they don’t lose their place as he flits through the rest of the book. He ends at the vein structure rather than the organs and bones and tilts it toward Knell with a grin. “These are also important to know.”
give me destruction, tell me i'm scrumptious i'm a fucking delight
Relieved to hear that she's not only gotten it right, but that she doesn't have to struggle through the long syllables of his name again, her eyes shine a little brighter, back straightening as she perks. "Okay Asta! My name's Knell!" Although she's already guessed that he knows that, there's a childish glee in introducing herself, saying her name aloud as she continues to claim it along with her new standing in the world.
When she directs the conversation to him and his scars, surprise spreads openly across her face. "Oh," she says, intrigue and curiosity only rising as he gives her bits and pieces of information. Tilting her head again, she probes a little more. "How? Was it an accident?" Or - even more tantalizing - did someone do it to him on purpose?
Asta helps lift the book from her lap, politely placing a feather on her current favorite page as he flips through to a different section that he angles towards her for inspection. Bracing her hands against the obsidian of the bench, Knell leans closer to inspect the page, tracing the bifurcating paths with her eyes. They're drawn in a red that already has her suspecting its purpose, but her mouth falls open, gawking as she looks to Asta for confirmation. "Is that all blood?"
i think i'm the devil in disguise, here's my state of mind
She perks up with the little nickname, and as it falls from her lips, his own widen a touch in that amused shark-tooth smile offered back. “Pleasure to officially meet you, Knell.” He hums – not mentioning the fact he’d been there at her birth. She’d grown quite a bit since then in a relatively short span of time, after all, and he isn’t sure how much she was told or remembered about any of it. So instead, he pretends as though it’s their first meeting and not from word of mouth, the first that she will get to remember.
The inquiries about his scars, however, don’t phase the smile on his face but his tail does flick a little back and forth. “Oh it was fully intentional.” He admits, lips quirking in a smaller smile. “Though if I am being honest, I am not keen on talking about them much.” A lesson in politeness in prying, perhaps, as gently as the butcher can. “They are there and that is all.” He wasn’t getting rid of them, and at the end of the day it’s a part of his identity whether he wanted them to be or not.
So he focuses on flipping through the book after marking their place, until he reaches the map of veins. She leans forward to inspect it, her eyes tracing the lines that lap over each other in a functioning network, and when her question leaves her and her bright gaze lifts to his face for confirmation, he chuckles softly. “Yes, in a way. These are veins. They carry blood.” He hums to her, curious how she’ll take it.
give me destruction, tell me i'm scrumptious i'm a fucking delight
"You too, Asta!" she chimes. Having been told the tale of her birth and all the loving witnesses, Knell feels even more comfortable around him. She might not remember the moment or the people's faces, but she could feel the love in the room, could hear the pride in her mom's voice as she described the momentous occasion that so many people had come to share. It's like she already knows him.
His polite response to her question is everything she'd expect from the man, but it also reminds her that no matter how much it feels like she knows him and should know him, there may be parts he doesn't want to share. The gentle refusal to say more is met with a soft disappointment, the kind that comes when a page has been torn out of a book, realizing that it's a mystery she may never solve. Her smile turns dim, faded with unsated curiosity. "Oh. Okay." But she doesn't press, deciding that Asta might be a mystery to be solved another day.
Knell's eyes fix on something here and now, mapping the 'veins' he shows her. She tilts her head to inspect it closer, tail weaving an intrigued rhythm behind her when she begins to understand the scope of it. "Woah. Is it the same for all people?" Does she have the same map of veins in her? Does he? Do animals? It makes sense when she thinks about it, but Knell wants official confirmation, to grasp the scope of this knowledge and its meaning.
i think i'm the devil in disguise, here's my state of mind
It certainly isn’t a mystery that would be solved today, that’s for sure. Perhaps when she’s older she may learn, but for now? Now it’s a secret he keeps hidden just like the vast majority of his scars in question. Hidden under the confines of his sweater and the wool coat he still wears to keep the heat in despite the slight chill that infiltrates the stone Temple. She agrees with the soft disappointment, but it isn’t something that urges the butcher to decide against the boundary made, so he focuses instead on showing her the book and the veins within the drawing on display.
He nods his head, his gaze flicking down on the page before it lifts up to her face again. “Yes.” He answers. “It is just as important to know as the bone structures you were looking at previously.” He twists his lips into an easier smile, a knowing one that seems to suggest he’s given her plenty of study material to look into alongside her other studies – whatever they may be. Being a child of Dygra and Charlie’s, the butcher isn’t too sure what things she’d be learning.
give me destruction, tell me i'm scrumptious i'm a fucking delight
Knell nods her head, understanding clear in the bright blue of her eyes when she looks at him. "Because we need blood, right?" She and Ancients need it more than others. She's felt the bit of hunger, the bloodlust that she shares with them. Although she's yet to feel it at its peak, Knell's heard that it can be intense.
Swinging her legs, she scrutinizes the picture again, trying to imagine blood pumping through the system. "How much is in a person anyways?" She tilts her head, glancing between Asta and the picture before looking out to the shrine farther in the Temple where people place their bloody handprints. "We use a lot for offerings, but how much can you lose before you die?" Should she be worried about someone dropping dead during a ritual? What if she wanted to kill someone?
The darker thoughts send a thrill down her spine, her fang poking into her lip as she wonders if that's something she'd want to do?
i think i'm the devil in disguise, here's my state of mind
Nodding to her question, the butcher’s smile remains vibrant – glad she’s learned the importance of it. Though, honestly, how could she not? With the horns and tail on display and the quiet wondering what a bloodlust might be like for a child that hasn’t quite figured out how to regulate their emotions as is let alone with the fury that comes with the bloodlust.
Perhaps it’s easier being born with it, though, given the fact Asta had become an Ancient long after he’d lived part of his life, so the chaos of the bloodlust had been something he’d had to get used to. And for a man that had issues about control ever since his incident, it made it increasingly more frustrating and terrifying the first few times he started to lose it from the bloodlust.
When she asks how much blood is in a person, Asta’s smile twists a bit more amused. “It depends on the person, however, the average is likely close to 5 liters.” He murmurs, before he learns in toward her again. “It would take a lot, but there are places that are better and worse when it comes to bloodletting.” He gestures to himself after. “I have bloodbane, which requires my blood to injure someone else. So I never choose a spot that will have me bleed out fast for those attacks.” Vital, especially in a fight.
give me destruction, tell me i'm scrumptious i'm a fucking delight
This time his revelation earns a perplexed blink as she searches her knowledge for how much a 'liter' is. When she comes up empty, Knell purses her lips, an adorably confused look on her face as she asks, "Is that a lot? Like how much wine is in the fountain?" Or is it more like the amount her mom had drained from a blink hare?
Humming her understanding of his other pieces of information, she looks to the page, her youthful mind managing to assume that bigger means more blood and vice versa. She trails her finger along the picture, spotting where the veins converge and separate in a complicated system she's just starting to learn. The small finger stops above the forearm, noting the sparce, smaller vasculature. "Soo... someplace like this?"
i think i'm the devil in disguise, here's my state of mind
Her confusion so blatant on her face makes it hard for Asta to hide the soft laugh that escapes him, warm and playful as he shakes his head slightly. “No, I believe the fountain harbors quite a bit more than that amount.” He tries to think of something that might be similar to what she knows, his head tilting as he thinks about it. “Those… large bottles your mother has? Imagine five of them. That should be close to the amount.” At least close enough that she could imagine how much it was. Hopefully.
The next explanation is easier for him to describe, the answer that there are better places than others for blood to be drawn depending on the situation. And as her small finger stops atop the forearm with little vein structures and asks, the butcher’s smile twists a bit brighter. “Exactly right, darling.”
give me destruction, tell me i'm scrumptious i'm a fucking delight
It's a relief to hear it's not as much as the fountain, but Knell still gapes as he compares the amount to five of her mom's bottles, pink lips wide in disbelief. "'Five of those?' All of that fits inside someone?" She looks at her hand as if she can see the blood pumping through her own veins, filling five bottles.
The shock begins to dissipate, her awareness stretching to accommodate the new knowledge as she learns volume and location of blood. If Asta chooses the forearm as a place to minimize blood loss, logic would lead her to believe cutting the bit veins would make someone lose more. Knell perks under his praise, satisfaction like that of finding a new clue brightening in her eyes. She nods her head in a pleased bob, her fang dragging off her lip as she says to herself, "This is good to know..."
Her mom's taught her about the gifts Dygra has bestowed upon the Ancients, but not everyone has the same magics, and Knell leans a little closer, peering up into his face with open curiosity. "Bloodbane... what other magics do you have?"
i think i'm the devil in disguise, here's my state of mind
“Yes.” Asta hums with a laugh of amusement, relaxing slightly as she starts to take in the information in regards to how much blood sat in their veins. But the conversation shifts as she starts to pinpoint the good spaces one might utilize bloodbane, and for that the butcher is pleased with how she’s picked up on this little lesson. “I do agree.” He murmurs, because there was nothing worse than the possibility of accidentally drawing too much blood from yourself in a fight rendering you essentially useless.
But then she’s peering up into his face, leaning closer, the book forgotten for a moment. Her question brings a twitch of amusement to his lips. “I also have Scorch, Peter Pan, and Haunt.” He explains – no dart! like her mother and his fiancé had, though it would be lovely at times to have that ability. The butcher wasn’t one for swift or agile movements, more prone to brute force rather than elusive evading. “Do you have any magic yet?”
give me destruction, tell me i'm scrumptious i'm a fucking delight
Knell pushes her hands against the obsidian, leaning closer to Asta as he lists his different magics. The names are all familiar to her as some of the incredible abilities unique to Ancients, ones she's seen in use around the Temple from her mom or Dygra's many followers. Her head bobs as she grins at the new information. "That's a lot!"
When the question turns to her, Knell leans back, kicking her feet out as she rocks casually side to side. "I can only control fire right now," she pauses a beat, straightening as she adds excitedly, "but mine's blue!" Pulling in a breath, she raises a hand and tilts her head to look at it intensely. Her eyes squint a moment, reaching for that thread of magic to pull the fire into her grasp where it flares to life, flickering and waving playfully over her palm without burning her skin.
The beautiful blue glow reflects in her gaze when she beams up at Asta, proud of the little magic she has. She holds it for another minute before releasing the blue fire into the air, the whisps dissolving into the low light of the Temple as she lowers her hand back to the bench. "I also have a fox shift! Do you have any?"
if you could find your way inside you'd have to find a way to stay alive
He inclines his head at her comment regarding the list of his magics – it was a lot, but he knows that there’s always more he could strive for. But rather than dwell on the possibilities, he instead turns the question to the youth, nodding as she explains she can only control fire at the moment. “Is it really?” The butcher asks, grin brightening as she goes to show him and he leans in – unafraid of the fire and knowing it would not burn him either.
Delighted to see the little flame flicker across her palm in the blue hue of too-hot heat, grinning brighter as he nods his head in obvious approval over the blue fire. “How impressive. Mine is just the standard.” He nearly sighs dramatically, letting a little flicker of fire spark in his own hand, orange and white, there and gone in an instant.
As for shifts, though, the butcher didn’t even realize foxes were an option – though, he hadn’t realized the Feirw had been either until it had found its way into his soul. “I have quite a few of those as well. Would you like to see my favorite?” He asks, knowing full well that she’d say yes as most children would with given an option to see what shifts lingered within those older than them.
So, the butcher stands from the bench and after a few more seconds, he’s replaced by a large and dark stag. Fire flares to life through the tines of his horns, wrapping around each one in a more macabre variant of the luxere, cloven hooves clicking against the temple floor as his fluffy ears perk forward and he lowers his head toward Knell for her to inspect his shift.
