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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 brief fight for control against the wall is something that draws a playfully dark laugh from Jack's throat as they part for breath, the Captain palming her breast again and tweaking his fingers across one dusky nipple before she's arching enough to force him back a step or two. One might not expect Jack to be the sort of man to give ground - especially not in the bedroom - but then only those who have tumbled with him between the sheets would know the truth.
He follows the spark of her desire like it's the only light in a sea of darkness, adjusting seamlessly to allow her further space, his head tilting into her fleeing touch even as it descends to his belt. "That a threat, a promise, or both?" he asks, voice pitched low, eyes near black in the low light of a few candles he's ignited since their arrival.
There's no complaint in the removal of his belt - quite the opposite in fact, his arousal one step closer to release providing her hands continue to do the gods' work down there.
bottom line, we made it out the first time still in love and half alive
The sound she makes when Jack's fingers tweak her nipple is not pretty; it’s rough, pulled from somewhere deeper than her throat, something that catches and holds for a second before slipping free, and the grin that follows it is all edge and intention as she leans into him, close enough that the space between their mouths feels like it might collapse on its own. "You’re about to find out."
Her hands don’t hesitate as they continue. There’s no flourish, no pause to draw it out for his benefit; she wants him now, and that wanting translates cleanly into motion as she undoes the button and fly of his pants, freeing his erection. She responds to its release with a deliberate press of her hand at his hip, guiding him backward like she’s already decided exactly where this is going. The other hand settles at the base of his cock, firm, unyielding, not teasing so much as claiming, and she steps forward into his space with a prowling certainty that leaves no room for negotiation. He gives ground because she takes it, because she keeps taking it, walking him back one step, then another, her grip steady, her mouth just shy of his like she’s holding something in reserve on purpose, letting the tension coil tighter and tighter between them until his knees hit the edge of the bed. Much as she'd happily fuck him against the wall, at least seated he'll be able to kick his pants off with having to hop from one foot to the other.
Outside, the alley doesn’t stay empty. The Ark's wake extends even now, a restless pull threading through the narrow space as passersby slow without knowing why, drawn by something they can’t name. The faint scent of salt lingers where there should be none, the distant hush of water where there is no sea, and beneath it all—threaded through the dark like a hook—are the sounds she makes, low and unguarded, slipping through the cracked edges of the bolthole to catch in the chests of those who wander too close where they pause, and whisper, and wonder.
we didn't die, but no guarantees this time, but fuck it lets do it again
Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3
Siren's Wake | After she leaves a space, traces of her presence linger briefly: a faint scent of salt, the sound of distant water, a restless feeling in the chest. People rarely notice it consciously.
Jack's surrender is the sort that will feel purposely hard-won, the sort that will stoke pride and satisfaction in The Ark for every bit of ground she makes him give up. "Don't threaten me with a good time," he mutters, the words husky and framed by a sharp smile, though the expression flinches into something that fights not to dissolve completely into pleasure as her clever hands release his aching cock, fingers grasping the base of him.
They inch backwards in this half-dance, lips teasing but never quite touching, her desire smouldering and threatening to burst aflame at any second, until his knees hit the side of the bed. And Jack goes down with a shift of fabric and the sound of boots hitting the floorboards where he kicks them off, his shirt following the trajectory of his pants a second later. Only as he peers up at her, eyes like a burning shoreline and all the anticipation of a caged predator, does he realise that her magic is also at play.
Jack's smile, slow and almost knowing, creeps across his face like a drawn blade. "We've got an audience, love," he says, sure she's already well aware.
bottom line, we made it out the first time still in love and half alive
The Ark watches him strip, her gaze dragging over him without subtlety, without restraint, taking in the shift of muscle and the way anticipation sits under his skin as though she’s measuring it, weighing it, deciding how best to spend it. When he looks up at her, she answers by stepping in, placing her knee on the bed beside him so her body stretches long and deliberate in front of his, the line of her leg braced at his side, her weight angled just enough to keep him where she wants him.
At Jack's mention of the audience, her head tilts, and there’s something in her gaze that sharpens rather than shies away, something that almost welcomes the idea of being heard, of being followed, even as another current runs beneath it, one that runs colder, tighter, unwilling to share more than she allows. Outside, the alley gathers them in, her wake pulling at passing bodies like a tide that can’t quite be seen but can absolutely be felt, curiosity sharpening into something heavier as they linger too long, listen too closely, want without understanding why. It would be easy for Jack to reach for that, to slip sideways into it and take what’s offered—those flickers of heat and hunger that gather just beyond the door—and while the same might not be true in other moments, just now the Ark isn't at all inclined to share.
"Don’t let them distract you," she murmurs, and there’s nothing idle in it, nothing permissive, the words settling into him like a command wrapped in velvet. If there’s pleasure to be taken, if there’s anything worth sinking into, tonight it will come from her, through her, nowhere else, and as if to hone her point, with her free hand she'll reach for one of his, guiding it between her thighs as her hips shift forward against his hand.
we didn't die, but no guarantees this time, but fuck it lets do it again
Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3
Siren's Wake | After she leaves a space, traces of her presence linger briefly: a faint scent of salt, the sound of distant water, a restless feeling in the chest. People rarely notice it consciously.
His head tilts back a fraction as she leans in, one leg braced against the bed at his side, the voluptuous line of her body overhead like a gathering storm. Jack's hands are no less possessive for his relatively submissive role in this, one sampling the ample curve of her hips while the other trails down between her breasts towards her navel - right up until she captures it and guides it somewhere altogether more interesting. "Wouldn't dream of it," he purrs, fingers sampling the slick, sweet heat of her and ghosting up against her clit, enough to tease, to encourage her to move against him.
Outside it would be far too easy to drift into the combined chaos of curious minds already tinged with arousal. But whether it's The Ark's command, the pleasure associated with his fixed attention on her, or the fact that her thoughts and feelings are swamping the rest of his magic, Jack complies. "You gonna make me beg you to ride me?" he wonders; whether that's her sinking down onto his cock or onto his waiting mouth is up to her.
bottom line, we made it out the first time still in love and half alive
The sound she makes when his fingers find her is immediate and unguarded, something low and feral that breaks loose from her as her hips jolt forward against his hand, her grip tightening on his shoulder as if to steady herself and drag him deeper into it at the same time.
His question only sharpens her grin, something wicked and bright as she leans down, her mouth brushing his. "No," she murmurs against him, voice thick with heat but edged in something far steadier, something that doesn’t waver. "I never want to hear you beg." He would, if she wanted it, but even as nothing more than an act of lip service, the Ark never wanted to see him brought low.
Jack's clever fingers won't get to tease her for long; she takes the rhythm from him almost as soon as he offers it, rolling into his touch with a deliberate pressure before leaning forward to kiss him hard and claiming, her hand at his shoulder pushing as her body follows through, guiding him fully back onto the bed. She moves with him, then over him, until she can perch properly astride him. Her hair spills forward in dark, restless waves as she looks down at him, the curve of her mouth slow and triumphant, her weight shifting just enough to draw a sharp breath from her as she positions the head of his cock against her. For a moment she holds him there, suspended, her gaze fixed on his. "I am going to fuck you, though."
When she finally moves, it’s with a control that refuses to rush, even as the reaction it pulls from her is anything but contained, the sound spilling from her lips deep and unrestrained as the tension she’s been holding snaps into something fuller, something that fills her and drives the breath from her chest all at once. Outside, it carries—echoing faintly through the alley where her wake has already drawn them close—while inside she keeps her focus locked on him as his name spills from her lips.
we didn't die, but no guarantees this time, but fuck it lets do it again
Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3
Siren's Wake | After she leaves a space, traces of her presence linger briefly: a faint scent of salt, the sound of distant water, a restless feeling in the chest. People rarely notice it consciously.
If The Ark didn't have his full attention before (and not to worry, she definitely did) there's no escaping it now, not as her hips roll deliciously against the pressure of his fingers, not as desire spills low and loud from her wine-dark lips and drives whatever spectators remain outside wild. The flush of heat that drips down the Captain's spine is all his own, to know that she'd never hear him beg; his magic might be keyed into her pleasure but his pride is still all his own, and he laps it up like a man starved.
"I was hopin' you'd say that," he whispers, voice roughened by control that's beginning to slip, and as her mouth crashes against his, Jack shifts back on the bed like this is a dance they've coordinated together. His back hits the threadbare sheets, the serviceable pillows, his fingers still circling her clit even as he feels the heat of her tease against the head of his cock, breath hitching softly in his throat.
She's like gazing up at the stormy sea itself, wanton and wild and ultimately the decider between who will sink and who will sail, and as she sinks down upon him at last the world outside disappears almost entirely. Jack's hips arch up automatically, driving into her at the same time, wanting her to properly know what it means to have him if that's what she wants.
bottom line, we made it out the first time still in love and half alive
She takes him fully and doesn’t rush the first breath that follows, doesn’t soften it either, the sound spilling from her low and uncontained as her body adjusts around him with a slow, deliberate tightening. Her head tips back for a fraction of a second as the sensation settles, as the heat he’s driven into her finally meets something solid and answering, and then she looks down at him again with that same sharp, satisfied edge. "Gods you feel so good."
Her calves draw in against his hips, fitting there with an ease that gives her leverage, control, the line of her body long and braced as she begins to move, not hurried, not shallow, but rolling with a depth that builds from her core outward, each shift of her hips dragging him with her rhythm rather than the other way around. It isn’t a simple motion; it gathers, swells, pulls back just enough to make the next press land harder, fuller, her pace shaping itself into something that feels like a rising tide that has no intention of receding gently.
The sound she makes deepens with it, less sharp now and more expansive, something that seems to stretch through her chest and out into the space around them as her control settles fully into place. When he thrusts up into her, she doesn’t break rhythm; she absorbs it, redirects it, folding his movement into hers until it becomes part of the same current, part of the same rising pressure.
The Ark leans forward just enough to change the angle, to deepen it, her hair falling around them in dark waves as her mouth parts on another breath that doesn’t quite steady, the storm she’s building not distant, not contained, but gathering right here in the space between them, in the pull and drag and relentless rise of her movement. There’s no eye to it, no stillness waiting at the centre, just the steady escalation she refuses to ease, her rhythm tightening, sharpening, each motion landing with more insistence than the last.
we didn't die, but no guarantees this time, but fuck it lets do it again
Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3
Siren's Wake | After she leaves a space, traces of her presence linger briefly: a faint scent of salt, the sound of distant water, a restless feeling in the chest. People rarely notice it consciously.
"Took the words right outta my mouth, love," Jack says with a hitch of breath as she begins to move, his head tipping back ever so slightly into the pillows as if to give himself over to sensation and to the arch and shift of both of their bodies. The Ark is a fiery shadow overhead, serenading him with voice and lascivious thought, and even without magic she'd be enough to undo any man's senses. With it, though, she's like desire made flesh.
He's distantly aware of the way people have paused at the mouth of the alleyway (or even closer) to hear her dark moans of enjoyment or to sense the strange and ethereal imprint she leaves in her wake. In almost possessive response, Jack's hands drop to her hips and thighs, squeezing and encouraging the rhythm of her body as she leans in closer. There's no pause for breath, no moment to consider anything but what is already starting to simmer between them, and the Captain shifts enough to get an elbow beneath him, bringing his mouth tantalisingly close to her full lips.
"You gonna let everyone know you're in here?" he wonders, half jealous and half enjoying it. "And just who's gettin' you off?"
bottom line, we made it out the first time still in love and half alive
The sound Ark makes when Jack's hands close around her hips is immediate and answering, something low and dark that feeds on the pressure he applies, her body shifting into it rather than away as she rolls against him with a rhythm that builds instead of breaks, each movement gathering more weight than the last. Where his palms press, there’s a slickness that isn’t sweat, something salt-laced and living that beads against his skin as though her body answers touch the way the sea answers pressure, giving and taking in the same breath.
His question doesn’t distract her, but it does sharpen something, something feral and bright that flashes through her as she leans down, her nails catching at the back of his head and dragging just enough to pull his mouth up to hers. The kiss is anything but gentle, her mouth taking his with a force that matches the way she moves over him. At the same time, an abrupt fist of wind shoves the chair aside that Jack had placed against the door before it slams open into the alley, and with it comes the rush of something that doesn’t belong inside walls, the scent and sound of open water spilling into the narrow space as if the boundary between sea and shore has been pulled thin enough to tear.
Those gathered there don’t just hear her now; they see her, framed in the spill of moonlight and motion, her body poised over the Captain's in a line that’s all control and intent, her hair a bloody, shifting fall around her as she moves with a rhythm that looks less like something human and more like a siren come to claim yet another sailor.
Then, everything tightens without warning; the pressure she’s been building turning dense and unmanageable as it coils low and deep until it has nowhere left to go. Her breath catches hard, her body going taut over him as the first break hits, not gentle, not easing, but splitting through her in a rush that forces a raw, open sound from her mouth before she can swallow it back. His name tears free with it, not shaped, not softened, but boasted, dragged up from her as the release follows through, heavy and relentless, her hips jolting once before she drives them down again, refusing to lose the rhythm even as it surges through her. Her orgasm doesn’t crest cleanly; it hits in waves that stack and break without space between them, each one pulling tighter, harder, until she’s riding it out with no intention of easing the force of it, letting it take and take until there’s nothing left in her that isn’t caught in the pull.
we didn't die, but no guarantees this time, but fuck it lets do it again
Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3
Siren's Wake | After she leaves a space, traces of her presence linger briefly: a faint scent of salt, the sound of distant water, a restless feeling in the chest. People rarely notice it consciously.
Jack takes the kiss she offers to him with as much passion and propriety as expected, their lips and bodies crashing together now in an act of near violence. He neither notices nor cares as a rogue tide blasts the door open and threatens to wash away any listeners - and now spectators, too busy allowing the low, deep pull of her climax to start to swamp his mind. The Captain's hand has found the ample curve of her ass, guiding each deep thrust and sensuous roll of her hips until gods - gods - it all unravels completely.
His breath freezes in his lungs (almost literally, it feels like) as her orgasm first crests and breaks like a wave at high tide, fingers flinching hard enough to leave small crescents in her soft flesh. The elbow that had been holding him up buckles to leave him sinking back into the bed, hips rising and bucking with each subsequent peak of ecstasy, until it almost gets too much.
His lungs burning, Jack finally remembers to breathe only when the world starts to fog at the edges. And whilst he might have once resented the idea of being caught vulnerable - magic swamped and singed at the edges, mind gloriously blank - with an open door into Kaiholo only feet away, suffice to say he doesn't have it in him to care right now. Reaching up to tangle his hand in the back of her red tresses, he tugs The Ark down against his waiting lips only when he thinks he can kiss her without falling unconscious.
bottom line, we made it out the first time still in love and half alive
Heat still lingers in the Ark's skin, her cheeks flushed deep, her pulse hammering hard and fast in her chest like a riptide that hasn’t quite decided to settle as she remains poised over Jack, her body still thruming with the aftershock of what she's dragged from them both. The door slams shut with a sharp crack, cutting the alley off as cleanly as a blade, leaving water slicked across the boards and whatever watchers lingered out there abruptly severed from the moment. The pull of her wake recedes just enough, the air inside the bolthole thick and close again, contained; whatever comes next is just for them, the show is over.
She remains over him like some harpy mantling a kill, and when she finally lifts her hand from his hair it’s only to bring both palms to his face, salt still beading against her skin as she cups his jaw and drags him into her again. The kiss she takes is not softened by what’s already passed, not dulled or spent, but deeper for it; something that feels less like sentimentality and more like unfathomable devotion so vast as to make love feel cheap in comparison.
For a moment after, she doesn’t soften the way others might, doesn’t drift or melt or settle into anything resembling tenderness. Instead something sharper takes hold, a quiet, rising certainty that burns through her thoughts with startling clarity; of taking more, of claiming ground, of breaking down anything that’s ever stood in Jack's way. It isn’t abstract, isn’t distant; it’s immediate and precise, the instinct to see the world bent open and laid bare, to drag every obstacle to its knees and leave it at Jack's feet. When she pulls back, it’s only by a fraction, her mouth still close to his, her expression settling into something crooked and satisfied. "That felt good."
we didn't die, but no guarantees this time, but fuck it lets do it again
Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3
Siren's Wake | After she leaves a space, traces of her presence linger briefly: a faint scent of salt, the sound of distant water, a restless feeling in the chest. People rarely notice it consciously.
The storm that rises in the wake of their combined pleasure is no less dangerous for its sharp stillness; Jack feels it settle over The Ark like something cool and certain, that easy assurance of a bloody end for anyone who dared stand in their way. He tugs her further over him as she takes a kiss he gives freely, allowing him to settle properly on the bed, and while his senses are still far too scattered to notice she's slammed the door shut, he'll appreciate it later.
Parting at last to snatch in a few much needed breaths in the fraction of space between them, Jack huffs out a laugh and lets his fingers tease through her lion's mane of hair to find the soft arch of her back. "Good is puttin' too blunt a point on it," he rumbles, voice roughened by the past few minutes. "That was somethin' else." He kisses her again, hard and consuming, clasping her close and letting his hips buck against her as if in rebellion for having been made to relinquish control.
"Much as it was fun to fuck around in here, though, this bunk ain't gonna cut it for sleep." Not when the ship is a stone's throw away.
bottom line, we made it out the first time still in love and half alive
Goosebumps rise where his fingers find the small of her back, a subtle shiver that rolls through her and sharpens the grin that curves across her mouth just before he takes it again, hard enough to pull a low sound from her that spills into the kiss. The answering motion of his hips draws another from her, quieter but no less intent, her body shifting with it in a brief, tightening pulse that breaks like whitecaps across the surface of her thoughts.
When they part, her gaze fixes on him with a warning that sits just behind the satisfaction still written through her, that she'd not hesitate to take yet more from him if he's inclined to tease her, before she draws back enough to stretch, her back arching in a slow, deliberate line that bares her breasts magnificently, head tipping back until her throat is exposed, looking not unlike the masthead of Safrin adorning her bow.
The tension eases only slightly when she settles again, her attention dropping to the compass rose inked along his forearm, the faintest tilt of her mouth returning as her fingers ghost over it, tracing its lines and feeling a phantom sensation on the mirrored marking she bore on her belly. "Stone’s throw or not," she murmurs, voice low and uncharacteristically lazy, "I don’t feel much like walking."
we didn't die, but no guarantees this time, but fuck it lets do it again
Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3
Siren's Wake | After she leaves a space, traces of her presence linger briefly: a faint scent of salt, the sound of distant water, a restless feeling in the chest. People rarely notice it consciously.
