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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 was raised as a scorpion being pulled by the moon in a high tide
This close, Niki’s laughter is warm and comfortable as it grazes against him, even as the necromancer’s slate blue eyes slip away from him. He can see the remaining flush against his face, wondering if part of it has burned anew from the quiet correction the Heartless has made, but he doesn’t exactly let Niki finish it before he’s descending for another kiss.
Sunjata’s always been a man who did his best communication through his body language. Words always tripped him up, got misconstrued, thrown back at him. But this is something he can control, and he soaks into the surprised and soft moan that leaves him, offering his own quiet rumble of a purred sound to feel his leg hook around his hips to pull him closer. The hand that trails along his chest would feel the hard flesh beneath, warm and strong, and he might feel the way his breath hitches a fraction with the touch.
His own hand that brushes against Niki’s neck drops down, brushing along his side while his other brushes gently against the leg with the brace, careful and thoughtful enough to not do anything that might make it hurt more than it probably already does. The kiss deepens for a brief moment before he pulls away, giving them room to get some breath again, his face fully flared pink now as he scans Niki’s face. “So… what do you want?” He asks into the brief space between them. It's clear Sunjata's happy for anything, whether it's more of this or something more.
the flood
that's why i'm broken, yeah, am i a villain or a saint?
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.
"That is a cruel question for a man who has never done much more than this," Niki says, his amusement a barely there thing behind the sudden fire in his blood making everything feel urgent, the world outside his door becoming a faraway and unimportant distraction. He can feel the warmth radiating between them, all flushed skin and barely caught breath, and gods this should be enough given how the necromancer has gone without for his entire life. But it really isn't.
His hands have dropped near enough to his lap following the brief exploration of Sunjata's body, though he daren't glance down lest he spot the very obvious result of their impromptu make-out session. "What do you want?" Niki fires back, perhaps unfairly, before he forces himself to come up with something like an answer, even if it isn't a good one.
"I want to touch you," he almost whispers. "And be touched by you. I am tired of not... of being afraid of myself."
i was raised as a scorpion being pulled by the moon in a high tide
“Then it’s all the more important, I'd say?” He retorts softly, a small smile tugging on his face in the space between them. If Niki hasn’t done much more than this, then Sunjata figures they should savor the moment, not going too far to rush it into something Niki might decide he doesn’t want. And for Sunjata? He’s flexible enough to do whatever it was the other man wants.
His own hands are soft and gentle where they rest against the necromancer’s sides, happy to be perched here between his legs, smirking a little to hear the fired back response. It’s an easy answer if Niki gave him time to say it, that he wants whatever Niki wants, and around and around the circle would go again.
But he saves them both from it, with the near whisper that Sunjata has zero difficulty hearing. “Then we won’t be afraid.” He hums softly, withdrawing slightly to slip his shirt off. He doesn’t go further than that, bunching it up in his hands and dropping it gods knows where. It leaves him there between Niki’s legs, scars and tattoos on display, each branching arcs of the lightning strike scar creeping toward his heart, broken up only by the dark navy feathers that spread across his shoulders. And this close, it’s very obvious the northern point of the compass is aimed directly at Niki.
He snags Niki’s hand in his own, lifting it to his lips to press a kiss to his wrist, before he places it against his neck as if to help him start the journey, before he’s giving his own hands a trajectory on Niki’s body. The one on his braced leg stays soft and easy, grounding, while the other reaches to dip beneath the evergreen cableknit sweater to brush his fingertips softly against his warm skin. “Do you want yours on or off?” He asks of the sweater, his steel gaze scanning over his face, happy and content for either choice.
the flood
that's why i'm broken, yeah, am i a villain or a saint?
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.
"You make it sound so easy," Niki mumbles. To just decide not to be afraid, he means; to put those nerves and that trepidation on a shelf somewhere for safekeeping while he's otherwise occupied. But perhaps there's something to Sunjata's comment, because rest assured, as the other man tugs off his shirt, Niki isn't thinking about fear. (He's barely thinking with the head above his shoulders at all, let's be honest).
He's left to admire the play of muscle and ink and scar tissue for the first time sober, skipping in a breath he doesn't realise he's forgotten to take as the Heartless catches his hand. Caution leaps immediately to the tip of his tongue, as if to warn Sunjata of the scars that mar the soft skin on the inside of his wrist, but it seems foolish to say when considering the patchwork of silver before him. And so he says nothing, watching with open wonder as Sunjata's lips brush against his wrist and he guides his hand towards the side of his neck.
His touch is gentle, as if handling something delicate or important, fingers tracing the outline of feathers before dropping to skim along a branch of lightning scarring. "Do they hurt?" he asks softly, not wanting to risk causing pain. But as the question about his own shirt is fired at him, gods but he wants to take that step forward, only this is already a lot. "On, for now?" He phrases it like an apology and a question, resisting the urge to drop his gaze.
i was raised as a scorpion being pulled by the moon in a high tide
Honestly, it worked most of the time for him. The less he could make something seem daunting, the more it seemed like he’d be able to overcome it. And combined, where it wasn’t just yourself working through the stress, he found it helped too. Now, though, he stands there between Niki’s legs, guiding his hand to his lips, uncaring of the raised scars he can feel beneath his lips before he guides the hand to his neck.
He feels the soft brush of Niki’s own hand as it traces across the raised lines. Silvered bite marks adorn the sides of his neck and along his collarbones, smaller and smooth as opposed to the raised scar tissue from his actually traumatic scarring while the rest had come about for pleasure or utility. “No, they don’t hurt.” He murmurs softly, reassuring Niki that he could poke and prod away at them to his heart’s content.
As for Niki’s own sweater, the answer that comes is a sorry wrapped in a question mark, and Sunjata can’t help but to lift his gaze to try and catch his slate blues with a soft smile. “On is fine with me.” Another little reassurance, even as he drops the hem of the shirt to smooth his hand along the sharp edge of Niki’s hip, fingers soft where they trace a design in against his skin, stretching out to feel and map this portion of his body slowly, to get the necromancer used to it.
the flood
that's why i'm broken, yeah, am i a villain or a saint?
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.
Poking and prodding has never been part of the necromancer's wheelhouse - not in the way Sunjata might be accustomed to being handled, anyway - and he merely hums a note of acceptance to hear that the branches of scar tissue don't bother him. His touch remains as gentle as before, though it grows more curious and sure of itself as he traces bite marks and freckles and ink, warm skin and the other scars the Heartless had told him about. "Where do you like to be touched?" he wonders before he can stop himself, Niki smiling ruefully at his own boldness and pausing to let his hand linger over the other man's heart.
It has barely occurred to him that Sunjata might actually want to touch him in return, despite their conversation about it, and he's left feeling a little breathless when not only does he take his shyness in stride, but makes it work for him regardless. The brush of fingers against his skin sends a shiver up the length of his spine that's entirely beyond his control, the necromancer having to stop himself from holding his breath just in case he passes out entirely.
i was raised as a scorpion being pulled by the moon in a high tide
The touch remains soft as it glides over his branches of scar tissue, each one sparking a shiver to race against his own spine, goosebumps trailing against his neck and the short hairs at the nape of his neck. The question of where he likes to be touched himself has a lopsided smile blooming on his face, feeling the weight of Niki’s hand over his heart. “Anywhere, really, but my neck I like the most.” He offers out easily, continuing his own exploratory affections while Niki lets that settle.
He injects warmth into Niki’s side and his hip, fingers spreading and stretching out to brush those soft little designs wherever he can reach, slipping up slowly in order to brush along his side and the base of his rib cage. “Is this okay?” He asks softly, checking in to make sure he wasn’t overstepping the boundaries as he continues his own exploration beneath the other man’s cable knit sweater.
the flood
that's why i'm broken, yeah, am i a villain or a saint?
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.
Niki almost scoffs out a laugh at anywhere (mostly because right now, absolutely same Sunjata), but as the other man clarifies he flicks his eyes back up towards the silvery marks in the shape of teeth against his neck, scars cutting through tattoos to leave pale strikes in the ink. His fingers follow the trajectory of his gaze, but before he can remark on it the Heartless's clever hand is sneaking further beneath his sweater, Niki arching against the touch automatically.
He's no adonis - Sunjata has already seen as much already - but his body tenses anyway as if to brace or to beg for more. "Yeah," he assures him, voice having dropped into a rough whisper like he's just realising that much himself. "I will let you know if it isn't." His lips find the other man's again before he gives them permission, his fingers trickling up against the nape of his neck before plunging into his hair.
i was raised as a scorpion being pulled by the moon in a high tide
Niki’s hand begins to move again, this time he can almost sense the pathway it takes to return back to his neck, even if he interrupts it with the trajectory of his own touch. His fingers pause briefly against the edge of the necromancer’s ribs, a momentary distraction as he hears that Niki would tell him if it wasn’t. And he certainly doesn’t doubt the way the other man would inform him quickly if he’d overstepped.
But before he can even comment on it or say something funny or witty in response, Niki’s claiming another kiss, but it’s precisely the kind of attention Sunjata’s craved for so long. The heat of Niki’s kiss and the fingers that brush against the nape of his neck and plunge into his hair, it has his fingers twitching against Nikis’ ribs distractedly, a quiet moan he doesn’t intend to let slip escapes into the kiss.
It’s a tightrope Sunjata walks, between wanting to tug Niki closer and claim, to trying to go just as slow as Niki wants. But the heat that infiltrates his face is hot and leaves him red, his kiss trying to deepen with the swipe of a hot tongue. The hand at his ribs sweeps around to his back, stretching out, while the other slips up from Niki’s brace to the other hip to keep him close as he leans further in.
the flood
that's why i'm broken, yeah, am i a villain or a saint?
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.
Niki isn't experienced enough yet to tell genuine from performative (and to even know that the second is an option), and the moan that breaks from Sunjata's lips sets fire to his blood all over again. His fingers tighten in the back of the other man's hair as he deepens the kiss and gives the necromancer a taste of everything else he's been missing out on, his back arching into a touch that feels as greedy as it is patient.
As Sunjata leans in further the leg Niki's hooked around his hips tugs him closer still, the sudden and unexpected friction causing him to gasp softly into his mouth. He parts clumsily from the kiss, cheeks hot and senses scattered to the snow outside, left panting and smiling wryly as his hand smooths down the back of the Heartless's neck. "How am I supposed to stop?" he asks, voice rough and a touch boyish, because there's no manual for too much here, and he already feels in need of a freezing cold shower.
i was raised as a scorpion being pulled by the moon in a high tide
It’s a good thing Niki doesn’t know that performative is an option, because Sunjata’s fairly certain he’d imagine that’s what this is when it’s very obviously genuine from the way the Heartless’ body reacts. The kiss deepens, desire flooding in through all the careful walls he’d built, finding the small cracks and expanding them for lust and need. Niki’s leg tugs him in closer still, the friction making him pant softly when Niki parts, hands spreading a touch possessively in this moment of hesitation.
The hand that had been sunken in tight against his head, drops to smooth against the back of his neck, the rough accent of his voice boyish and rough is met with a soft huff of Sunjata’s own quiet hum of a sound, not exactly a laugh or witty or dry, just a kind of quiet acceptance. Like he, too, isn’t sure where to go from here. “I don’t know.” He admits, breaking through the haze of lust that’s trapped him momentarily to sit up a little more and offer Niki a lopsided smile.
He’s certainly not thinking soundly right now, not with the battle of heads happening. “We can stop now and try to put ourselves together enough to go back out to the party, or..” Here he lets his teeth tug on his lower lip as he thinks. “Or I can satisfy you with no expectation of reciprocation so you won’t combust?” His head tilts, his dark, hazy steel gaze focusing on Niki’s face, studying him for the answer as his hands smooth down to Niki’s hips, brushing against his belt loops.
the flood
that's why i'm broken, yeah, am i a villain or a saint?
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.
"If you do not know, what chance do I have?" Niki's laughter is soft and almost desperate, as if he'd been expecting Sunjata to have all of the answers here given that he's much (much) more experienced, and also Freys's demigod. Instead the possessive touch of the other man's hands against his skin has him near dizzy with desire - though that might also be due to all the blood that has flooded south - and he huffs out a shaky sigh to hear the suggestion that they just stop now.
Swallowing hard, because it's painfully obvious even to a man with no experience that this isn't what either of them actually want, Niki scoffs and glances up at the Heartless with a raised brow and eyes gone dark with lust. "I would be very selfish if I let you do that," he mutters, his hand sneaking around to the curve of Sunjata's jaw, thumb brushing against the lower lip he's just bitten.
i was raised as a scorpion being pulled by the moon in a high tide
“I guess we could figure it out together?” He suggests, voice deeper and hoarse as he considers it with not that much luck given the distraction of the man in front of him, the feel of his leg still hooked around him, the heat that blooms within him with nowhere to go. He could manage it if Niki did want to stop now, but he can’t deny the quiet relief of hearing the scoff, of being met with slate blue eyes just as dark as Sunjata imagines his steel are.
He starts to shrug a tattooed shoulder to hear Niki claim he’d be selfish. “I don’t mind.” He manages to get out before Niki’s hand is curving along his jaw, his thumb brushing against the lower lip that’s slightly puffy between the kiss and his nibbling indecision. In spite of himself, his head tilts slightly, tongue sweeping out to wind around Niki’s thumb as if in quiet promise, even if the twitch of a smirk tries to bloom in the face of expecting reciprocation.
A low hum leaves him, considering as he takes Niki’s thumb into his mouth, withdrawing after a few moments of offering a quiet promise of what he could do (though he imagines it comes as no surprise). “Here, or somewhere more comfortable?” He asks with a rough voice.
the flood
that's why i'm broken, yeah, am i a villain or a saint?
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.
"I am starting to get the impression that figuring it out with you is code for a lot of kissing," Niki says with a soft laugh. "Not that I am complaining." Far from it in fact, though as Sunjata's tongue curls around the pad of his thumb any wit (or indeed, rational thought) promptly vaporises from his mind. He huffs out a sharp breath, hips tilting forward of their own accord as if he can imagine all too well how that talented tongue would feel elsewhere.
Letting out a soft groan of frustration and taking his hand back like it might catch fire if Sunjata keeps it, Niki gives a quick shake of his head as if to say he doesn't trust any part of himself (not his resolve, not his patience, not his stamina) if they opt to go anywhere else. "Here," he says roughly, his hands falling to cover Sunjata's at his hips, as if to encourage where he already knows they want to go.
