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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 feel it in the wind, my dear The sun is gonna reappear
North of the northernmost bridge of bone lay the end of the world as she had once known it. Where once a barren scar had carved the border between the Hollowed Grounds - and the barrier long before that - a straight now flowed, shallow enough that she could see rocks and stretches of shadowed reefs yet probably deep enough to sail a vessel through if the keep wasn't too deep.
Bundled up against a strong wind that had yet to pick up much warmth, Maea scrabbled across a pile of driftwood towards the far edge of a cliff. Grateful for the counterbalance offered by her tail, she leaned out along the coast and gazed off towards the far horizons to both east and west, and nodded with a pleased little grin to herself; this had to be the northernmost point of the region. Which meant, she thought while turning around, that anything below this point should be a good point to plant her seed. Right on the edge of the sea didn't feel like the most ultimate spot - too windy, too salty, not enough shelter - but it was a good place to set out from.
Humming to herself, glad to be on her own for a while, she began to pick her way off along the coast, keeping an eye out for void taint and aggressive critters along the way. The weather was nice, sunny and windswept; and maybe she was due a bit of relaxation after everything that had been going on lately.
yes, yes, I am wild I am the wind that makes breathing hard
After and after and after seemed to be a staple of her movements lately; but the course of meetings were now refined to nothing more than planting – and that much didn’t heed too many semblances of warnings. Instead, she took to the skies again on the Firecracker, listening to the quiet grumbles of Fangorn tucked away behind her, or Sila flying alongside. It was easier to glide amidst the clouds and treetops, rising over the desert plains, and face the wake of infestation from above.
There would be opportunities and chances to alter the course in the future; perhaps larger than this instant. But then the outreach of the Hollowed Grounds drew her attention for half a moment in consideration, for she frequently barely gave it that, but haunted figments still had a way of grasping hold somewhere in those laden bones of survival and nothingness. The Spire glinted and winked in the daylight, and her jaw clenched, wondering if she could hit it again, make it topple, make it come apart at the seams like they’d all wanted to years before. If it even mattered now, in the grand scheme of things, to rip it into rubble, ruins, and pieces, when all the other symbolic ends and races were gone.
Moving on, she turned along to portions she’d never seen – as they hadn’t existed before the war – pockets of isles and inlets. The tip nearly abutted some portions of void-clogged frames, so why not?
Though, she wouldn’t be alone.
She recognized the pale bout of hair the moment she lowered the skyship, beginning to wonder if it was a mistake. She and Maea hadn’t really talked in ages, buuuut the now Ancient might be able to answer some questions for her. Meh – worth a shot. “Hey Maea,” she waved from the sudden warbling of movement from the boat; landing it softly nearby. If she looked surprised by the decent landing, she didn’t address why, already beginning to climb out and grab hold of Fangorn as she did so. “You planting here too?” Or maybe not; perhaps she was intending to throw herself out to sea.
I am the ocean and the battered shore I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
I feel it in the wind, my dear The sun is gonna reappear
Warned by the presence of something other amidst the archipelago by a low rumbling sound, it took her a moment to figure out what it was. Somewhere between thunder and distant dragon wings, it took a shadow to pass between herself and the sun to draw attention to the skyboat. Shading her eyes with a hand, she watched it land, whistling with an impressed nod at how smoothly the keep touched the water... and followed with some apprehension as Melita climbed off and landed on the shore.
"Hello," she greeted, a bit surprised that it wasn't harder to summon a smile. Last time they'd met... uh... when had it been, really? Somewhere between a spar on a beach and that dreadful tournament where the Honeybee had joined the 'to Mort's halls and back' club. "Yeah. Just looking for a good spot."
Uuuh... Gods, why did awkwardness have to strike now? You'd think there were harder things in life than keeping up a conversation with someone you had known for years.
"How are you? It's been... quite a while, hasn't it." Alright, fine. Platitudes first. Pale eyes scanned the ever-present vampire gourd with all the wariness of one who'd been too close to that kind of gnashing teeth before. She made a point of not getting too close, just to avoid misunderstandings.
yes, yes, I am wild I am the wind that makes breathing hard
A warning label should come with Melita at any meeting – given who she was. Instead, it would be her blasé and unrelenting approach, an individual who did exactly as she wanted. Letting Fangorn down to the ground and watching as he eagerly wiggled his vines upward, perhaps due to the proximity of a place that had also once been his home, her eyes went to Sila coasting above along several sea thermals, before flicking her gilded gaze upon Maea.
Almost Cheshire and catlike in her approach, layers of indifference and sedition through and through, she didn’t tread into Maea’s awkwardness. “Yeah,” she adhered first, shrugging her shoulders, snagging at the golden seed pod in her hand and then sauntering over to a spot several feet away from the Ancient. “I’m all right. Not dead.” One could joke about that between two former deceased individuals, right? She was still bitter about the whole thing, but for now it was going to be a point of contention to become a better and blistering force. For either Sah or the rest of the world. Preferably all.
Kicking away at a patch of dirt, and then not liking the general texture of the area, she scooted to a point closer to the water, and sat, dress and all. “What have you been up to?” She didn’t have a clue as to what the Grounds had been granting as of late; making it a point to rarely come here. Something sparked at her brain as she hastened Fangorn over to help her dig, directing her attention back to Maea within an instant. “Oh! I wanted to ask about you and Ludo.”
I am the ocean and the battered shore I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
I feel it in the wind, my dear The sun is gonna reappear
Did not dead equal alright? Pale brows knitted together in what might be concern, and as Melita plopped down to sit, Maea hunched down to keep her company, figuring it couldn't hurt. The dark fabric of her skirt pooled around her feet, damp from the occasional misstep along her exploration of the coast, and the mud staining the velvet rather took the formality out of it.
"Not dead is generally preferable," she acknowledged neutrally. "At least sometimes. Coming back the same as you left though... that's tricky."
Looking up as another shadow drew her attention to the sun, the silhouette of a dragon coasting against periwinkle skies. Judging by the size, it could be a runt, or a companion. Unwilling to presume, she simply admired the sleek creature for a moment, and grimaced as the question was turned back on herself.
"Oh, you know. Trying to get used to being Ancient. Making friends, breaking friendships - my usual bullshit. You could say everything's changed, and nothing at all." She'd honestly rather not talk about it.
Being asked about Ludo though, especially by its own demigod, was decidedly more pleasant. Maea's eyebrows came up in surprise, even as she smiled. "I don't mind. What do you want to know?"
yes, yes, I am wild I am the wind that makes breathing hard
Oh, Melita hadn’t come back the same – but she wouldn’t be acknowledging that. It was going to take more of her guts, determination, and pure perseverance to pull through the amount of pride she’d had significantly disassembled; but it’d return in the end. And that certainty kept her rounding over multitudes, including here and now, taking a stick and digging away at the dirt.
Sila continued her brief excursions along the sky and eventually wound down in a beautiful spiral towards the Honeybee’s shoulder, landing gently as Fangorn ambled over, and they were a tight cluster of witnesses. Humming lightly under her breath, she continued to dig with great gusto, clusters of silt and loam flickering about while she listened to the rest of Maea’s report. She had to wonder about the growth of certain individuals too – but she hadn’t known the woman long enough to even begin deciphering those portions. If she was stuck in a mire of her own making, or doomed to repeat cycles. Who knew.
Turning over the shoulder not occupied by her dragon, the smuggler’s brow arched. “Oh, about your experiences and stuff with it. I know most have been a mixed bag.” Because some didn’t enjoy the chaotic or deadly nature, and others were enthralled.
I am the ocean and the battered shore I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
I feel it in the wind, my dear The sun is gonna reappear
Humming thoughtfully, she considered her relation with the masked herald as the little dragon came circling down. Breathing out a soft sigh of longing as it landed on Melita's shoulder, Maea folded pale fingers into the soft skirt to keep herself from attempting to touch it.
"For my part... it has been a good experience," she admitted. "Out of all the gods and heralds, Ludo was the first to answer my prayers. For a long time, it was the only one of the Old gods that I turned to." Finding a smooth piece of rock, she wiped sand and sediment off it and turned it over in her hands. "I would say that my biggest regret is accepting the Voice's offer to come back to life... if only because I effectively turned my back on everything Ludo and Mort stands for."
Lost in thought for a moment, she eventually shrugged and glanced over at the red headed girl. "What about you? Do you enjoy your new life as a demigod? Remi seemed relieved to let go of his duties... have you been given any?" It wasn't jealousy, exactly. More of a wistful wondering, if she would have been in the Honeybee's shoes now, had she made better choices.
yes, yes, I am wild I am the wind that makes breathing hard
Sila buried her way through Melita’s long crimson hair, and the Honeybee continued to dig, content now with the progress she’d been making. Before long there was certainly a hole large enough to place a single seed within, and then be able to cover it all back up. But her attention was focused on Maea’s words for now, glancing back to study the woman with all the curiosity her gaze had to offer.
She recalled Maea had been Abandoned in the past – so the loyalty to the first herald she’d ever seen made sense. The regrets with the Voice thereafter, however, made the Honeybee go entirely silent; not certain if she would have ever done the same. She’d been brought back to life by Ronin; not some bitch of a New God. “Have you ever gone back to talk to it?” Ludo, she’d meant.
And though Remi’s duties had moved on to Mort, Melita’s were entirely different. “I do – save for the sudden death,” but she shrugged. That wasn’t the deity’s fault, but a mess made entirely by Sah that she’ll never quite be over. “I’ve been designated to help with chaos…not with anything Remi used to do.” And something she readily adhered to anyway; so that change hadn’t been so abrupt.
I am the ocean and the battered shore I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
I feel it in the wind, my dear The sun is gonna reappear
Maea shook her head. "I have left offerings, and apologized. But no, I haven't tried praying in earnest yet. I don't know that I have any right to, for one. And for the rest... I guess I'm still afraid to be turned away. Or told to return to where I should be. It's very hypocritical, but now that I'm alive and in a body I don't detest... I kind of want to stay alive." Most of the time. There were some lapses occasionally, but they grew fewer and further between. Maybe that was progress.
Laughing under her breath to hear the kind of task Melita had been given, the pale-haired ancient had to admit that it was very fitting.
"Chaos, huh. Not the Dygra kind, I assume... What have you done so far?" A glimmer of mischief was slow in the coming, rising up through the layers of her being like bubbles from the deep. Once upon a time even Maea had possessed a quiet, dry kind of humor... she wondered what had happened to it. Laughing didn't come as easily to her as it once had.
yes, yes, I am wild I am the wind that makes breathing hard
It wasn’t unknown to her that Maea had a weird martyr, self-sacrificing complex thing going on, but her brows twisted upwards in a bizarre facet as the Ancient revealed she thought she’d simply die for visiting a shrine. If she wanted to live in fear of the unknown, then she could stay away. If she didn’t want to know anything more about Ludo’s feelings towards her, then so be it. “I mean, I doubt that would happen,” and she shrugged, returning her attention to the dirt, and gathering the seed in the palm of her hand.
She didn’t glance back over her shoulder, opting to focus on the task at hand and simply talk louder. “I don’t know. What’s the Dygra kind?” There was likely to be a difference – there had to be a balance somewhere, even with the most primordial at the forefront. But when she asked about Melita’s current deeds, a very Cheshire grin wrapped around her features. “I can’t tell you. It would spoil a whole bunch of surprises.” Like stealing shoes and beating everyone to a sleigh, haunting people behind doors, harassing opponents with ducks, and coloring on people’s faces – a way to keep them all on their toes, without suspecting the Honeybee at all.
I am the ocean and the battered shore I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
I feel it in the wind, my dear The sun is gonna reappear
Seeing Melita's expression, a wry shrug from the ancient held a note of defensiveness about it. "Yeah? Well. If fears weren't irrational, they wouldn't be a problem, right?" Allowing the pebble to roll off her fingers and back onto the beach, she stood up and turned a bit to scan the brush and bramble for some other place to start digging. If Melita planted her seed here, it might be good to spread out a bit.
"Hmm? Oh. The freedom without consequences kind," she replied, with a distant look on her face. "Lots of blood and sex and debauchery... At least that's what I'm seeing in the others. Entropy, upsetting the balance, embracing change - that last part is the only bit that really makes sense to me. It's going... so-so to actually practice it." Wiggling her hand like a sew-saw, she eventually shrugged. "I bet your kind of chaos actually makes people laugh. That might be the real difference."
And maybe it was time for her to explore for herself which kind she really preferred. If she lamented being left curious as to what the Honeybee had been up to, it didn't show; Maea simply smiled and accepted the secret with another quiet laugh.
yes, yes, I am wild I am the wind that makes breathing hard
Maea could have all the irrational fears she wanted; Melita shrugged in return, not bothering to address it. If that portion, of once cherishing a herald and then never seeing it again, was something the Ancient was bound and determined to be settled within, far be it from the Honeybee to convince her otherwise. That wasn’t in her job description, nor did she have time or the patience to delve into all of that.
Instead, she continued planting her seed, making way for its little frame to have space to grow and nestle in the dirt. Putting it down into the earth, she then began to scoop all the loam she’d disassembled back into the hole, humming again as she went. The information was noteworthy, she supposed, freedom without consequences seemed broad, and the Honeybee usually did that anyway – but Torchline overall was a place of ‘unbothered’. She couldn’t help but cackle at the thought of Maea enacting any debauchery though, but kept the notion to herself. “Ludo said the world was too solemn and serious. So I’ll try to change that a little.” And if it prompted her to laugh (and others to scream – sorry not sorry Hawthorn), then so be it.
I am the ocean and the battered shore I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
07-16-2024, 04:43 PM (This post was last modified: 07-16-2024, 04:44 PM by Maea.)
Maea
I feel it in the wind, my dear The sun is gonna reappear
Feeling the silence as a weighty judgement cast upon her, Maea squirmed uneasily in its wake. Second guessing her reservations, questioning her motives all over again, anxiety left an acrid film over her palate and drew thin shoulders up towards ears that wanted nothing to do with them. Her own sweet memories of Ludo mingled with Remi's nightmarish tales and Melita's playful mission blended into a confused mash of possible consequences, from dangerous and deceitful trickery to playful friendliness - when the most probable outcome of a visit likely would result in silence, or the indifference of strangers. It had, after all, been many years since she relied on the herald for anything.
Casting a sidelong glance at the fiery woman for the sudden bark of laughter, she wasn't sure she wished to know what Melita found so amusing. At least Ludo's assessment wasn't wrong; Maea nodded in agreement.
"Good luck, truly. If I can be helpful at all, do let me know. I could definitely use some loosening up myself, that's for sure. Got any advice for a boring person who has forgotten how to have fun?"
It was like asking to have pranks played on her. But then again, why not? Why the heck not? What harm could it possibly do to invite a brighter kind of chaos into her life, when she was already so determined to embrace the dark and bloody kind anyway?
yes, yes, I am wild I am the wind that makes breathing hard
“Sure,” she shrugged. The Honeybee had never been a person dishing out advice, curating wisdom, or expelling it – her blunt, straightforward, and concise mannerisms didn’t always win other individuals over (which again – she didn’t really care). But she wasn’t certain how Maea could help; Melita’s plans were often spur of the moment, embracing alterations and living amongst bedlam kinda thing.
Patting the soil as the seed was all nestled within, she went to grab an empty container from the skyboat, retrieving a little canteen and skipping back over. Her brow arched at the sentiments of ‘boring’ and ‘forgotten how to have fun’, because gods, that sounded like a fuckin’ drag of a time. “What do you mean – you don’t do anything that amuses you?” Gods, what’d she do all day then? “What’s stopping you from having a good time?”
I am the ocean and the battered shore I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
