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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!
"Maybe" Koa acquiesces, softening as her fingernails stroke his neck. Is this what talking through your emotions is supposed to be like? Wounds ripped open, only to be kissed, coaxed into healing through affection and time? Maybe he ought to have tried it sooner, rather than trying to hold it all. Maybe there's something to this whole mature adult conversation thing.
Further trial is certainly needed, and further fuckups inevitable.
"Why of course, My Queen," Koa declares, feigning an aghast expression at the insinuation that he'd ever try to do such a thing without getting explicit consent from a nation's ruler. Turns out Koa can be taught, even if it takes some time. He doesn't have to fake being appalled for long; the suggestion of Ronin taking the task has a pained series of expressions play comically over his face. Shock at the suggestion mixes with indignant pride, the whole thing peppered by his inability to consider himself better suited than the White Knight for any job.
And then, finally, he drops the joke and breaks into a mischievous grin. "No offence to your father, but absolutely not," Koa drawls playfully, flicking his thumb over Flora's nose. "Besides," he goes, on, leaning in toward Flora's ear, his voice suddenly a low hum. "I've been dreaming of this for years." And whether that's the Dragoon expansion or their date, the Queen will be left to decide on her own.
"Mhmmmm." Flora hums under her breath, the sound only a little sassy, but mostly supportive. She couldn't pass up the opportunity to needle the dragoon just a little, even if she was still keen to see the tension bleed out of his shoulders and for his jaw to cease feathering, no matter how attractive it made him look.
Allowing her eyes to widen in silent mockery of his theatrics, Flora's lips twist into a rather crooked shape as she's temporarily torn between elbowing him for his boyish insolence or leaping into his arms and covering his face in kisses. Letting her fingers tickle playfully in little pulses up the back of his neck as Koa's expression turns almost nauseous, the queen is about to roll her eyes at him until he's booping her nose which has it crinkling prettily as she tosses her head not unlike some impudent mare. Stilling as his mouth drew near, fully expecting him to make some remark about how Ronin had threatened to yeet him into the sun, the words the dragoon does say has the queen clutching at the strong muscles that lined Koa's neck as she tried to still the tremble in her knees.
"It isn't fair to have a tongue like that." Silver, bronze, golden; whatever colour was meant to represent the ability to do what he'd just done to her. Feeling warmth spread out from her core before pooling quite determinedly between her thighs, Flora sighed out a shaky breath as she forced herself to pull back enough to be able to peer up into his eyes.
I love you clung to her lips, untethered and foolish, but standing at the water's edge with her arms around his neck and his charm like some magnet against which she was helpless to resist, it pulsed in the back of her throat as if possessing its own heartbeat. "So...when then?" She asks, only vaguely trying to sound as if she wasn't wildly eager to know, but then, like him, this had been more than just a long time coming and the flush that raced across her chest was quickly beginning to match the colour of her cheeks.
My house of stone, your ivy grows
And now I'm covered in you
"And here I thought you enjoyed my tongue," the Dragoon purrs against her, letting said muscle press ever so gently into the hollow behind Flora's ear. It tastes of salt and her perfume, and as always Koa feels his control slipping, stripped away by the animal magnetism that draws him endlessly back to her embrace, makes him ache to be the reason she smiles and laughs and moans. Young and eager, it takes so little for Koa to lose himself; and close as she is, it's quite unlikely Flora will miss the press of his desire, obvious by the bulge in his jeans.
It's probably for the best, then, that Flora pulls away, even if that miniscule absence has Koa aching with the loss. The flush on his cheeks echoes hers, though darker skin makes it harder to see; an inherent advantage the Dragoon cannot maintain thanks to his goofy, enamored grin. "So impatient!" Any attempts to hide his feelings is futile - adoration and cocky self-satisfaction shine openly across his face. "Soon," he promises, dipping his head down to press a kiss on her forehead.
"But for right now..." Another one lands on the bridge of her nose "...I think what you need..." A third brushes over her cheek. "...is to cool off!"
And he drops, laughing, his arms around her legs, ready to throw her over his shoulder and head toward the sea.
Shivering at the dark purr of his voice against her ear, the flick of his tongue has petals of heat parting between her thighs as her body remembers the way it had felt when his tongue had done something similar in a place which was a good deal more sensitive. "Those can be true at the same time." Flora argues, widening her eyes challengingly as she grins up at him and trying to ignore the way she wanted to jump in his arms now for a completely different reason.
"It has been years, Carpenter!" The queen scolds theatrically, and she might have resorted to threatening to send Ronin after him but for the press of his lips against her forehead. Soon. Sighing, the queen opened her mouth, before her nose crinkled once more against his touch, laughter leaving her parted lips instead. I think what you need—is for him to take her somewhere private. That's what she—
Suddenly upside down, Flora wraps her arms around Koa's chest, but only so that she'd not bounce with his every step rather than for fear of being dropped. "Help, help!" The queen cackled. "I'm the queen of Torchline and I'm being kidnapped by this—this—!" This wonderfully sweet and charming idiot who was impossibly handsome, and gods, why had they fucked up so badly with one another. Why did it have to be with each other that they'd learned the lessons of relationships and love that all eventually do, more often than not by fucking it up and vowing never to do it again. But why couldn't they have done that with someone else first?
Hearing the splash of his feet in the waves, Flora wriggled playfully in his arms knowing that short of resorting to magic, there was little she could do to break his grip, especially slung over his shoulder as she was. "Don't you dare Koa Carpenter! Don't you dare throw me in the ocean." She warns, though the force of her order was lost somewhat in the laughter that swallowed the words whole.
My house of stone, your ivy grows
And now I'm covered in you
Koa snorts at Flora's protests, which of course nobody is around to hear. A couple hels look up curiously, but otherwise Flora's pleas go unheeded. Still the boy plays along, calling out through a laugh: "That's right: this is a villainous kidnapping! Come any closer and the Queen gets it!" The threat is punctuated by a solid smack right on Flora's ass.
Still laughing, Koa ploughs into the water, ignoring the way the pressing tide soaks into his pants. He isn't thinking about what they could have been, only what they are: young and quite possibly in love, creating a shelter of sunlight and joy as the rest of the world explodes. The hand on her ass has remained conspicuously present, brazenly cupping one perfect cheek. She's as easy to carry as a bag a bouquet of flowers, comfortable in his arms.
Shifting Flora off his shoulder and in against his chest, the Dragoon grins down into eyes far bluer than the ocean, his smile mischievous on sun-kissed cheeks. "Alright, I won't throw you." His own copper eyes burn with reflected sunlight, fiery as he adds: "But I can't promise not to fall."
karma's a relaxing thought, aren't you envious that for you it's not?
Screaming at the spanking she received (and feeling a small jolt of heat sweep through her; had anyone ever touched her like that before?), Flora continued to theatrically flail in the dragoon's arms. Had they not actually been alone the queen might have worried more about the way her sundress had likely ridden up when he'd plucked her from the ground, but given that this was Torchline and it was Flora, it was easy to put the thought from her mind.
As she's readjusted in his arms, her legs tucked up as if she might melt if exposed to the waves, Flora felt her stomach flop at the ease with which he moved her, and it had her gasping into the crook of his neck to stifle the laughter that built in the back of her throat. "I will ban you from To—" She's starting to say, but then his eyes are shining with a mischief she knows all too well, and the last thing she sees before she's enveloped by the cool water is the sun bright flecks of gold in his eyes.
Pressing her face against his chest, Flora clings to him, her smile hidden beneath the salty sweep of the ocean. Bubbles float to the surface from her lips where she might have said I love you, or I'm going to get you from that. Either way, she refuses to let go of him even as the sea tugs the ground out from beneath them, knowing that so long as she's in his arms, she's safe.
The water isn't deep, barely at his thighs, but still enough to swallow them whole as they drop beneath the waves. One moment they're shrieking and laughing; the next a roaring silence engulfs them, casting out sight and sound and leaving only touch. In those heartbeats Koa is aware of the Queen's lithe form against his chest, of everywhere their bodies touch, skin adhering to magnetic skin. Unable to see her, unable to hear her, Koa can only feel Flora.
It feels like being home.
They surface quickly, the Dragoon's arms still tight around the Queen. Koa breaks the water little mermaid style, hair flung back with a hearty laugh as soon as he catches his breath. Settling down onto his knees, he lets the water lick at his shoulders, admires openly the way it makes Flora's dress cling to her skin.
It would make sense to loosen his hold on Flora, to let the sea take some of her weight; instead Koa holds her tighter, as though jealous the ocean would think to steal such a jewel. The look he gives her is pure adoration, boyish infatuation and summer love as he begs for forgiveness with a crooked smile.[ Say]"Wasn't that refreshing?" he asks breathlessly, eyes glittering almost as bright as the droplets on his skin as he considers kissing a stray salt crystal off her rosy lips.
The rush of the waves might have stolen the breath from her lungs if Koa hadn't done that already, just as it might have chilled her bones but for the warm arms holding her tight. When they surface, Flora is already laughing, her own hair a golden tangle against her shoulders as teardrops of pearly black form on her eyelashes, and yet she'd never felt more beautiful than she did when he looked at her.
Shifting if only so that she could settle herself into his lap, her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms tangled around his neck, the queen inhales with wonderstruck surprise to feel the heat radiating off of the dragon despite the salty fingers that long to drag them both out to sea. She can feel, too, Koa's excitement, and it occurs to her that perhaps this refreshing dip was more strategy than mischief. Not that she would have minded either way. "I'm throwing you in jail the first chance I get." The queen laughs, her words airy and buoyant as she fights to catch her breath but finds it an impossible task given the laughter that constantly steals it away.
There was quite literally nothing that could have made the moment more perfect, save perhaps for a bit of waterproof mascara. "Kiss me," Flora whispers, her body arching to fill every possible gap between them as her thighs tense to fix her in place that not even the waves might move her from him.
My house of stone, your ivy grows
And now I'm covered in you
Any cooling effect the water might have had is thoroughly neutralized by the remarkable young woman now straddling his lap. Strong arms wrap around her waist, holding her steady in the unsteady sea. He's aware of his pulse in his throat, his chest, down in his groin where a volcanic heat blooms at the point that their bodies touch. Her hair is a mess, her mascara smeared, her skin specked with salt and a flush of heat.
"You're so beautiful," Koa breathes, with the earnest reverence of prayer.
And then she comes in close to kiss him and he stiffens, turning away---
---no, dummy. Obviously he's gonna kiss her back.
"As you wish," Wesley Koa grins, the words cut short as their lips collide. He curls his arms around Flora, calloused hands splaying over her back; Koa, too, arches toward her, hungry to eliminate any space between them, to feel nothing but the brush of her skin. It's an eager kiss, skilled and experienced, nothing like the playful brushes they've coyly exchanged throughout the day. This kiss doesn't say I want you, but confidently cries You're mine.
08-01-2024, 01:47 PM (This post was last modified: 08-01-2024, 02:39 PM by Flora.)
flora
Words like sunshine and joy and summer lovin' had me a blast don't come close to describing the way Flora's throat felt as if it was going to burst with laughter every time Koa looked at her the way he was just then. Boyishly wonderful with a tongue so gleamingly silver she was surprised she hadn't yet seen him polishing it to keep it from tarnishing, Flora could only give her head a wordless little shake, her tongue utterly tied by the strands of colours in his eyes and the way the sound of his voice had her wanting to melt.
Moaning against his mouth as his lips pressed against hers, Flora's thighs trembled almost immediately as shockwaves of heat and arousal shivered up into her core. Toes curling against the cool water, the queen's hands greedily rove over the strong muscles of the dragoon's shoulders and back, before finding little fingerholds with which to try and clutch him closer. Parting from his mouth only to sip in a hasty breath, she lets her tongue describe the things she'd like to be doing to his body were they not in the middle of a fairly public beach. Nevertheless, the urge is absolutely there, and though wicked it might be, the queen lets her hips grind softly against his own in time with the motion of the ocean (wink).
My house of stone, your ivy grows
And now I'm covered in you
So here they are: in the ocean, fully clothed, eagerly making out at a public beach with not a single care as to how absurd a tableaux it is.
Feels pretty on brand, I'd say.
Koa's feet grind into the sand, toes curling for both stabilization and in reflection of the tension sparking through his body. His grip on her has drifted downward, now more at her hips than waist; he lets his left hand slip even further, clutching the sinful curve of her ass and pressing her closer to him. A moan leaks into Flora's mouth and then his lips are moving, playing patterns at the edge of her smile, the sharp slice of her jawbone, the slope of her neck. "Flora," Koa hums against her, the name a hymn with every kiss. He licks and sucks salt water off her supple skin: not hard enough for a lasting impression, but enough for the skin to bloom faint scarlet, for her to feel how much he wants.
Gods but she wants more of Koa like this, touching her the way he is, wanting her the way he does. He might not be a mind reader like Jack, but no part of her would trade the blush of young love she feels right now for hollow foresight, not when this makes her feel like she might explode with joy. Wanting simultaneously to press back into the dragoon's hands as they slide along her curves, the queen instead forgoes the rhythm of the sea and instead slides her hips forward against his at her own frenetic pace; not thinking, only wanting.
It's a blessing and a curse to have his lips parted from hers; while she can breathe (not that she thinks she'll ever be able to catch her breath again), he feels desperately far away despite the way his lips sing across her skin. In response her fingers continue to clutch and tug, wandering their way without hesitation over the pathways his muscles have cleaved into his body. One day perhaps there will be time for her to map him properly, when youthful hormones don't make it seem like the world exists in only this moment and that if they don't seize it, it'll be gone forever, but until then, Flora memorizes as much of the dragoon as she can in between the too-quick beats of her own heart.
Moaning against his temple, the queen's breath hitches in her throat as his lips form a petal of scarlet against her skin. "Gods, I want you," She whispers wickedly against the whorl of his ear before her teeth graze back and forth against his earlobe.
My house of stone, your ivy grows
And now I'm covered in you
Don't worry, Flora, you're not the only one desperately wanting more. Though in Koa's case there's little need to verbalize that fact: the bulge of his cock between her thighs can tell her more than words. Were it not for the fact that the ocean is a piss-poor place to fuck (seriously kids, don't do it), the Dragoon may well have torn her panties off and entered her right there, propriety be damned.
Alas, the mood may be there but the means are not.
Plus there's the whole trying to do this like mature adults aspect.
So Koa is reduced to letting out a moan, the sound markedly adult, if not especially mature. "You're gonna have me fucking you on the beach again at this rate," he laughs huskily against her neck, grip on her ass tightening markedly at the memory of that rendezvous.
"But Flors," Koa adds, pulling back far enough to meet her crystalline gaze, his own eyes bright as burning coals, "I don't just want to fuck you. I want you.All of you. This isn't a hookup, Flora- I'm gonna show you I'm serious about this. About us." He wants to do this properly, even if that means slowing down. Wants to show how much she matters, to avoid past mistakes.
And to not get murdered by her dad. That would also be good.
It's true: all horny Torchers learn this lesson either the easy way, or the hard way, and for as much as the queen has precisely the same inclinations to continue fucking Koa in places that belonged in Mateo's romance novels, the last thing she wants is to have to hobble into Isla's clinic with an infection she's too old not to have known better about.
"I'm wet enough that you could." Flora purrs salaciously as her nails scratch lightly across his skin. "Wet enough to put the whole ocean to shame." She adds, rolling her hips against him and likely enjoying it a good deal more than he was given the marked difference between a sundress and underwear, and a caged erection and wet pants.
Gods, but then he's being all mature and she loves and hates him for it. Swallowing down a small shiver as she settles properly down against him, Flora presses her palms on either side of his face and lets her thumbs brush away flecks of seaspray that have accumulated on his cheeks. "I want that too." She admits, and even though they'd already both said how much they like-liked each other, it still has a titter of girlish laughter pressing from between her lips.
Only...it fades, slowly, and though she keeps her hands on his face, her touch stills as her eyes search his. "The...the uhm, last person who asked me to date them, disappeared and never came back. Literally the next day." She says softly, thinking of Paige. Though her core still burned helplessly warm, her fingers and lips and nose felt as if Spice or Sugar had been breathing on them. "And then you...with your letter, before.." Immediately her expression wilts somewhat as she gives her head a quick apologetic shake. "I know what happened, I know you couldn't have helped it, and I'm not mad, I'm just.."
Jaded?
Damaged Goods?
Wildly fucked up?
But she didn't know, and so it was with a helpless smile that was shaped more like a frown that the queen shrugged softly in the dragoon's arms.
My house of stone, your ivy grows
And now I'm covered in you
