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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!
Her outing had been long and arduous, filled with yapping, wailing, and boasting that grated on her brain with sharp claws. However, the task was done and hopefully she wouldn't have to do it again anytime soon. And as a little reward for herself, she'd gone ashore for some fun. What kind? The night was young and she was ready for anything.
Plopping down at the bar, she pulled her hood down for the first time that day, exposing the arcing blue-black of her horns that parted her dark cascade of waving hair. A few glances were cast her way, but Thal pointedly ignored them, choosing to summon the barmaid with a single finger. "Whiskey."
your dreams are all full of war you are from another time
Melita was no barmaid, and had yet to be summoned by anyone, but she did float along the Hanged Man with every audacious step. Fangorn and Sila accompanied her both, and by the time she’d snagged a drink, she’d also seated herself nearby, pulling out a piece of paper and what looked like a checklist – full of plot devices and menacing acts. She then proceeded to cross one out, giggle to herself, and then snag a sip of her liquor.
Only when someone’s voice snagged nearby did she deviate her attention from the unfurling pranks, eyes flicking over to see someone she recognized. Trying to decide if she should be an absolute shit, ignore the Ancient, or bend somewhere in between, she finally settled for a brief spark of clarity. “Oh, hey,” came on half-a-wave, wondering if the pirate knew Jack was around…and then deciding she’d be more amused if he strolled in.
salvation doesn't look like light So what remains?
As the liquor slid in front of her, Thal glanced to the side at the sound of a familiar voice. Her eyes immediately recognized the fiery red hair and mischievous grin, off put by the 'greeting' indicative of their limited familiarity. She ran her gaze over the relaxed figure striking out points on a list, curious about its contents but caring too little to ask. Instead, she nodded her head. "Hey." Then took a swig of her drink.
Their last meeting had been... interesting. Thal had still been gaining her footing as a captain and Melita had obviously not cared for any of her insecure posturing. But she'd grown significantly since then, and recent events gave her little reason to value the woman's opinion of her. Despite that, she had helped repair The Marauder, so she didn't immediately dismiss the conversation, making an attempt to be polite. "The port looks good as new." Considering last time it had been in shambles, debris coating the shoreline. Feeling that her obligation was about done, Thal took another drink of her whiskey, glancing at the other patrons with minimal interest.
your dreams are all full of war you are from another time
Oh, Melita couldn’t give a fuck about anyone’s posturing, let’s be real. She had enough power and sedition on her side to truly believe she had a ‘get out of jail’ free card permit from Ludo, friends in high places, and enough persistence in violence to get most things done accordingly. Even after sudden death and all that. Thal’s prior situation had almost made her laugh, snorting away all the bullheaded pretenses from the Ancient, and going about as she always had.
Which led to now, as she drew something off to the side, giggled at it, and then crossed it out thereafter, deciding it wasn’t going to be a worthwhile prank. Still funny though. “Ought to,” she remarked with a wrinkle of her nose, perhaps a modest attempt at being friendly and cordial. “Lot of work put into it.” She winked for good measure. “You still stickin’ around here?”
salvation doesn't look like light So what remains?
The awkward stilt of their conversation felt forced, causing Thal to bristle at the sensation. She tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her horn, the waves framing the bright blue of her eyes in the dusk lighting. A particularly bold man sat farther down the bar, attempting to catch her eyes with a confident grin. He wasn't necessarily ugly, but his thin twig figure wouldn't be able to withstand more than the force of her gaze, let alone much more, so Thal kept her eyes on the drink before her and the snickering redhead at her side.
When Melita winked her way, Thal raised an eyebrow and lifted her glass. "When it suits me." Glancing sideways at the woman, she threw the question back, "You?" As she waited for a response, she took a drawn sip of her drink, letting the warm liquor ease the pounding in her head. The last few weeks hadn't been kind, and she found that going too long without a drink had become painful. She'd address that issue later, when the ache of her missing friend had weakened its hold on her.
your dreams are all full of war you are from another time
Well, Melita thought she was putting in the effort, even if the pirate didn’t want to. She had half a mind to turn away and engage in thoughtful, paradoxical whims ad measures with Fangorn or Sila, or the drunkard further down the bar, whose head was straining dangerously close to the wooden frame.
‘When it suits me’ almost earned Thalassa an eyeroll, but instead the Honeybee snorted. Jack must’ve been aware of her prowling enterprises; and given what she knew about the Captain, the Ancient’s days meandering around Torchline were probably vastly limited. Plenty of ports elsewhere though. The inquiry thrown back at her made her pause, and then she laughed. “I live here.” Not in the bar, obviously, but in the greater expanse of the sea, sand, and surf. “Been helping with building up the barriers so we don’t get void shit around. And Ludo business.” What that implied was a wide variety of things – mostly impulsive and rampant mayhem.
salvation doesn't look like light So what remains?
The snorted response didn't really affect Thal as she took a longer drag of her whiskey. It was getting lower than she'd like and she glanced at the vanishing liquid with contempt. Summoning for another, she downed the last swig, letting the liquor sear into her empty stomach. Despite her high tolerance of alcohol, it was easing the tension from her shoulders, making her inclined to say more than three words in response. "Just because you live here doesn't mean you spend a lot of time here." Having been offered citizenship in the area multiple times, she wouldn't have been one to linger for long. Although her 'activities' often fueled the smuggling ring and other Torchline businesses, she hadn't felt compelled to accept the label, yet. Mutual economic benefits didn't seem like adequate reason to chain herself down.
That didn't mean she hadn't heard of the many developments occurring in the area. To hear that Melita was helping with those almost had her laughing, making it her turn to snort. "Those don't sound like they would overlap often. Unless the barrier is made of rubber ducks?" Raising an eyebrow at the woman, she let known that she'd heard of her antics around Caido, not that she particularly cared or minded the occasional yellow toy floating by her ship.
your dreams are all full of war you are from another time
“Eh, except I do,” and she shrugged. She’d been kept busy lately with the void tasks, with an occasional blip over to Stormbreak to irritate Koa or a minor vacay over to King’s End to terrorize strangers or her uncle. Otherwise, Melita, perhaps surprisingly, was a rather rooted individual – and not simply by Jack’s coercion of her Firecracker, but namely due to every situation she’d found herself in as a youth. Too many worlds, too many lands, where she and her family had to flee, become lost, and survive – and in the end, she’d almost been entirely on her own from a young age. Hollowed Grounds had been the only option before, but when Torchline became available, she’d longed for sand, surf, and shoal – like a return to Dragon’s Throat.
So she stayed.
That Thal had heard of her antics surprised her at first, and then she figured she wasn’t really hiding much of anything, so the liquor and amusement increased the length of her catlike grin. “Unfortunately not. I suppose I could always try it though.” Imagining a swarm of battle-ready rubber ducks, in a variety of sizes, shapes, and colors as their first line of defense in the harbor did fill her with some sentiment of glee. “Maybe I’ll have Jack put some in the cannons.” Or she’d just do it without him knowing.
Snagging another few swallows of her drink, she tilted her head. "So do you just travel around pirating then?"
salvation doesn't look like light So what remains?
She accepted the next glass of whiskey without more than a nod. As she took another searing sip, she wasn't surprised by Melita's outrageous idea. Instead of immediately dismissing it as nonsense, the alcohol had her imagining the strategic implications of firing rubber ducks at enemy ships. "A psychological attack as much as a physical one, I have no doubt." How could any semblance of organization or understanding remain in the face of flying bath toys?
The blatant way the demigod spoke of her profession had an eyebrow raising. It wasn't like many people didn't know what she did, but it wasn't like it was accepted by everyone. Thal didn't let the brashness faze her, swirling her drink in her glass with a shrug of her shoulders. "Sometimes. Depends on where the winds take us." Quite literally as well as figuratively. Her blue eyes found the woman again. "I'm assuming it's the same with Jack's crew."
your dreams are all full of war you are from another time
See – that was just it. Sometimes the nonsense was just as potent and dangerous – and truly, when and where Melita was concerned, it could end up being just that. “You get it,” she pointed towards the Ancient with her pinky finger, sipping down more of her drink. After all, she’d already terrorized Sah and Koa with the ducks, plus that poor Hawthornwhatsit with simply a mask and a shitty plan.
Presuming notions of pirating and smuggling would coincide together would be a blasphemous thing to say around here – mostly because Jack hated pirates. Snickering, her eyes lifted up to the ceiling, and then she watched a few more bar frequenters meander back and forth. “Eh. Mostly on Jack’s whims rather than any wind.” Especially since the Ark could fuckin fly. “I’ll warn you that he detests your lot.”
salvation doesn't look like light So what remains?
Agreeing with the demigod wasn't really a comfort, but she held her tongue. Instead, she latched on the topic of Jack. Her eyes didn't look at Melita as she said, "That sounds like a him problem." The words were devoid of emotion, but a wariness gathered in her chest at the idea that he might find it necessary to dispose of her at some point. She wouldn't kid herself into thinking that her more humble ship, crew, and abilities would stand a chance. That didn't mean that she was going to run and hide. That'd be too boring.
Thal took a sip of her whiskey to hide the emotions, opting to change the topic. "Did you just come here to scribble notes and give warnings, or did you have another reason?" It wasn't like the bar was devoid of entertainment, but she wondered what the chaotic woman did for fun. Especially as Thal spotted a more enticing target across the room.
your dreams are all full of war you are from another time
Ehhhh, see Melita would disagree on the “him” problem assortment of the potential perils. That’d be a sure fire Thal dilemma. Whether or not the Ancient was crafty or skilled enough to outskirt the Captain of the Ark would remain to be seen – maybe she’d be fortunate that he was busy or held up or doing something else. Orrrrr, on the realm of the Honeybee’s shitshow motivations, maybe the pirate would initiate a fight. That’d be amazing.
For like two people, probably.
Snorting into her liquor at the other woman’s response, she was perplexed by the next question. “Uh, to drink, obviously.” And be a general nuisance. “Plan out my next victim, stuff like that.” She waved her hand flippantly, then watched someone nearby, who’d either been listening or knew enough of her reputation, to skitter away to another table closer to the corner. “Why?” Maybe Thalassa was the target. Her Cheshire grin didn’t indicate anything in particular, save for amusements. “Though that guy,” pointing towards an individual clearly leering, “seems like fair game.”
salvation doesn't look like light So what remains?
"Just curious." She shrugged her shoulders as she took another sip of her drink. The second glass was nearly empty, but she had a lingering feeling that she might be getting sized up as a target, so she resisted the urge to down it and ask for another. Instead, she let the sip go down slowly, lingering in her mouth to savor the liquor. Thal took the moment to glance at the indicated individual. He was definitely tall and muscular, however, the leer on his face brought him from a moderate eight down to a six. She could work with a six, but she'd have to wipe the disgusting expression off his face first. It wasn't appealing to be looked at like a piece of meat. Desired? Yes. Bitable? Sure. Consumable? Absolutely not.
Thal turned back to Melita, chuckling. "Is that a challenge? I figured you only got satisfaction from well-endowed jokes and yellow rubber dildos."
your dreams are all full of war you are from another time
Bizarre segue there Thal – and Melita gave a brief look of confusion, eyes narrowing. “Yeah I’m not fucking him,” she gestured towards the man, who hadn’t heard her. “I meant to terrorize.” Rolling her eyes, the only indication of her next move was a gleeful little snicker.
And then there was a blast of water – mighty, potent, and strong, seemingly coming from nowhere (don’t worry, it was absolutely the Honeybee) – much like her favored cannons on the Ark. The stranger never saw it coming, probably because he was staring at the Ancient, and was rocked completely out of his seat, openly sputtering and stuttering on the floor.
With a puddle around him, of course.
“See,” she waved off-handedly in his direction, while the rest of the bar patrons started shouting out other random nonsense. “Like that.”
salvation doesn't look like light So what remains?
