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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!
The Sword took to his usual route of melancholic dwelling upon a subject as his long limbs carried him through the hustle and bustle of the crowd. He maneuvered on muscle memory, steering clear of smaller individuals or towering above them with little effort, passing through as if mere shadow. Even as he glanced through goods not much struck his interest, and not enough to persuade him to mull over properties, aesthetics, or elements; the dream within the Peepholes a little too scattered and beholden within his mind.
It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been occupied by those mental fragments from slumber. Safrin had delivered warnings within them on several occasions, and he’d dispersed the information necessary when war was on the horizon. But this, with such few images and stranger depictions, had no foothold or understanding meshing through his mind. Uncertain if he’d simply have to coerce himself into thinking it was merely illusions of the mind and nothing more, or if there were further intrigues to peel apart, he sighed, heaving a breath before shaking his head and motioning towards the next stall.
From there, and perhaps because he was striving to push it to the back of his mind, he acquired several treats for the family, bartering with a few contorted creations from his bag.
think about this you have the ability to survive anything
Having not been a part of the dream sequence that the adventure into the Peepholes had, Sunjata was somewhat familiar with the bits and pieces Melita had strewn together for him. But it hadn’t been enough to occupy his thoughts more fully, not as he drifts along Torchline’s bustling city. Indulging in the warmth and lack of snow, the brine scent on the air, the variety of people simply just living or visiting and intermingled in a perfect tourist trap that he’d been familiar with from when he’d ruled here.
Half amused to watch the seen, though, he sees a familiar face slip through and head toward the stalls, Sunjata finds himself following a short distance as Deimos stops at a stall and snags some goodies for himself, bartering with an old sun faced merchant in particular when Sunjata sidles up beside him. “Hey, how’s it going?” He asks, shooting a lopsided smile to Deimos in greeting.
did you get out all of that angry passion? is it still formin'? Has it started to torture you?
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
He’d heard another approach, but presuming it was one more inevitably vying for some coveted ware, he hadn’t bothered to glance up from his perusals until the voice slid his way. Turning his head to see Sunjata, he granted a nod, rolling his shoulders and handing over a particular toy he thought Erebos might like to the merchant. “Decent. Was just finding some things for my family.” Pausing, then stepping away once he’d made his purchase, his thoughts circumvented towards what had been occupying his mind beforehand. “Yourself?”
It took him more than a moment to finally give it voice though, biding his time as the King’s End leader conducted his business. The inquiry bounding through his mind might’ve at once sounded foolish or bizarre, but given how often both of them were in the thick of things, perhaps the question wouldn’t have been too off-base and foreign. “Were you in the gathering at the Peepholes? The one with all the light?”
think about this you have the ability to survive anything
Watching the toy be handed off and exchanged, Sunjata nods to hear that was the intention of the Warden before the question is turned onto himself. “Just enjoying some warmth before heading back home.” He admits, his smile a touch lopsided for the not great reasoning of being in Torchline, especially when the possibility of running into Hotaru was higher being here given Flora’s residence.
But then, it seems like Deimos is a bit lost in his thoughts, and when the question comes Sunjata straightens up, brows pinching a bit as he looks over at Halo’s Warden. “I was, yeah. But I didn’t fall asleep. Did you?” He asks, not really ashamed for his nosiness, especially as he gives Deimos a more attentive look, as if trying to understand whether or not Deimos had and what he might have heard or seen.
did you get out all of that angry passion? is it still formin'? Has it started to torture you?
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
Deimos only sought the warmth of his home, but he understood the notions of the Torchline coast and its vast rays, in comparison to nearly every other region this time of year. But when his inquiry notched another notion – that Sunjata had been there, but hadn’t been coaxed into slumber, the Sword began maneuvering away from individuals, placing the toy into his bag for safekeeping and unfurling a deep sigh. “Yes. Saw some strange things,” but hadn’t received the full brunt. Between being forced into sleep, and bizarre, intertwining dreams, that had been enough to send a multitude of alarms off in his head; unfortunately, from a litany of prior experiences.
Once they had some space away, presuming the question yet to come, he permitted an intertwining of water droplets and creation magic to contort a trail of moving images before Sunjata – reflections and portions of what he’d seen within the glow of the wood and drowsiness. Shifting creatures, the gilded light, a blend and blur of contorted permutations. “Was not certain if it was a warning, or just another peculiar occurrence.”
think about this you have the ability to survive anything
He might one day decide to enjoy the warmth of his home in lieu of venturing out to warmer regions, but for now the Heartless spends his days in and out of the House of Midnight and their rotating rooms – and the very room he’d lived in before he’d built a house for him and Hotaru that now sat empty. He can’t force himself to go back into it after everything that’s happened, and besides – he’d left it for Hotaru should she wish to keep it.
She hadn’t, but that’s neither here nor there at this point.
Mention of the Peepholes distracts him with a nod and a curious frown on his face, head tilting slightly as he follows Deimos away from the crowds so they can talk more quietly. And as it turns out, Deimos starts painting out the picture of what he’d seen with water magic and images, the shifting creatures coming to life with a gilded light, things moving and changing rapidly and enough to be insanely confusing. “Oh that’s fucking weird.” He mutters, glancing up at Deimos with furrowed brows. “Based on what’s happened… since like forever, I’m gonna assume it’s probably not just a one off.” And he guesses Deimos probably feels the same, too.
did you get out all of that angry passion? is it still formin'? Has it started to torture you?
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
Weird was a start, but at which where that would end would be anyone’s guess. The quandary of it potentially being nothing at all, to something more severe and strange was where Deimos lingered now, wondering if he was giving too much credence to the preambles of bizarre intrigues, or overlooking any other lingering effects. Sometimes those slumbering visions were exactly that, and sometimes they weren’t – especially when there was a group of them experiencing the same thing…
At the agreement though, he sighed, taking a long and slow breath as his eyes went towards the images, revolving and rotating them around again, to the coast nearby. “That is what I thought as well. Safrin was the one who had told Ronin and I about the Family coming within a dream,” and the system of other encompassing reveries, stupors, and hazes before. The notions of impending circumstances lingered upon him though. “I may ask her about it.” Once he returned home, or discussed it further. Shaking his head, his nose wrinkled, not wanting to wade too deep into the subject of the goddess with Sunjata there, understanding all those circumstances and nuances too.
Loosening his shoulders with a shrug that tossed nothing off the bounty of things weighing him down, he started walking again, absorbing the incantations back into the steady beat of his pulse. “For now, I have a little free time. Did you want to spar or anything?”
think about this you have the ability to survive anything
