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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!
Quite what Jack would have done had he not already been dragged attended a tailor's quite recently is anyone's guess, especially when it comes to having the Kingmaker hide turned into a coat. Luckily enough, his (Flora's) new interest in being more fashionable makes it easier to stomach what he considers to be a rather tedious process. "If I gotta sacrifice an afternoon, so do you," he's informing the Doubletake with a slanted smile, positioning himself on the step at the tailor's behest.
The hide itself shouldn't be a problem to work with, he's been informed, especially for the coat he's looking to make, but something so bespoke requires measurements, and since all of Jack's are currently up in Stormbreak in some other boutique, here he is. At least the tailor's apprentice has poured him a glass of whiskey, the captain taking a sip of it and glancing at the several reflections of himself from the mirrors.
Having hung up his shirt, Jack is left in a dark tank top and a pair of equally dark slacks, eyeing the tailor as he approaches with his tape measure.
it's not your fault that you're always wrong the weak ones are there to justify the strong
"Just sounds like someone is getting needy in his old age." Flora teases, glancing at the captain over the top of the magazine that she's been flipping through. Having opted for champagne instead of whiskey—you see Jack? There are perks to buying clothes from boutiques like this one rather than out of crates or wherever he'd done his shopping before Flora—the Doubletake crosses one leg over the other, fully aware of how high up her thigh Jack would be able to see given the various mirrors surrounding him and the length of dress she'd chosen to wear that morning.
Glancing at the tailor as he approaches, Flora goes back to pretending to be interested in her magazine. I'm surprised he's even willing to use the hide you brought in given how old it is. She thinks, reaching for her flute and letting the champagne sparkle across her tongue before swallowing.
"I wonder if I'd look good in something like that. Not a coat, but...something form-fitting."
"I could've said anythin' and you'd have attributed it to my old age," Jack drawls, smirking over his shoulder at Flora and holding out his arm as instructed for the tailor to begin measuring. He doesn't have to be glancing directly at her, it's true, and the various versions of her dancing in the mirrors do offer a very tempting spectacle, but there's nothing quite like the real thing.
Saying nothing as to the age of the material he's using for his coat either, but raising his eyebrows as if querying her obsession with how old things are, Jack is forced to glance back around as the tailor continues. With Leafchange past, his dark hair is already starting to skim and curl around his shoulders again, and given that Flora is all but in charge of his appearance these days (she has to look at him most, after all), he doesn't plan to do anything about it until she complains.
"Like what - a leather bodysuit?" His reflections grin sharply at her. "I don't deny it, but that's a misleadin' comment. We both know you'd look good in whatever you wore."
it's not your fault that you're always wrong the weak ones are there to justify the strong
"If you get to use it as an excuse, then so do I." Flora hums cheerfully in response, grinning at Jack's reflection and finding something utterly satisfying in the way the captain was so easily manipulated by the tailor's quick and sure movements.
Chuckling under his breath as he goes about his work, Jack will feel nothing but smug amusement from the tailor's thoughts. Privy to most of Torchline's drama without being directly involved in any of it, what shade he's heard about their shore's new power couple hardly has him concerned. Flora has long since been one of his best customers, and if she's going to bring in a new customer for him, who is he to complain? Though she'd tried to fuck the last one she'd brought in with her in one of his dressing rooms, the man had bought a number of very expensive items which more than made up for whatever inconvenience the queen was inclined to cause.
"Not sure anyone could argue with that." He mumbles under his breath before scribbling something down on a notepad produced from his pocket.
Affectionately rolling her eyes at them both despite clearly approving of their flattery, Flora sets down her magazine in order to properly consider. "Sure. Maybe with one of those big dramatic zippers down the front to make it easier to get in and out of." Innocently enough said, her thoughts are immediately filled with Jack's hands corsetting around the tight leather sculpted around her body, his clever fingers tugging at the zipper to reveal nothing but golden skin below.
"Is that how it works? Noted," Jack mutters around a smile, planning to take note of every complaint Flora regularly has in order to tuck it away as an excuse in future. Catching her eye in the reflection of the mirror with a raised brow at the ripple of satisfaction he feels rolling out of her, the captain's meaning is clear: like what you see?
Alas, he's glancing away again before he can see her answer in her expression, having to turn slightly in place for the tailor. It's probably a good thing, in truth, because it's at that moment that the man starts to think of the Doubletake's previous visits to his boutique, as well as expensive, fuckable customers, and in one of the mirrors, his gaze seems to darken.
"You ought to be careful with a zipper like that. Anyone might run by and unfasten it," he comments. His own hands on her body are one thing, but baring those golden breasts for the world to see at a moment's notice might not be the vibe she's going for.
it's not your fault that you're always wrong the weak ones are there to justify the strong
It was likely as rare for Jack to see himself from so many angles as it was for Flora, though the Doubletake has no plans to waste the opportunity to let her eyes wander over him from so many simultaneous perspectives. Among his various features, the captain's hands and eyes had ever been near the top of the queen's list of his most attractive body parts, though she certainly wasn't averse to seeing him placed on a literal pedestal for her viewing pleasure.
"I'm sure we could make it so that didn't happen." The tailor suggests as he nods for Jack to place his arms back by his sides to measure for sleeves. "Something with a clasp, perhaps." He adds, glancing between the two to see what they think while in his own mind trying to decide whether or not the queen wanted such a garment for fun or actually for protection.
"Oh no," Flora gasps playfully, having not seen the clouds suddenly darkening Jack's gaze given the way her own was greedily fixed on the strong line of his shoulders and the muscles she could see beneath the tank top he wore. "If anyone was close enough to unzip me, they'd be close enough for my daggers to unzip them." She counters, taking another sip of her champagne. "I suppose I could just make it magically appear on me." Flora's eyes seek Jack's out in one of the mirrors, a cat-like smile playing on her lips. Which would mean no one, not even you could get it off of me.
At least someone is getting pleasure out of all of this (multiple someones if you count the tailor, but it's for markedly different reasons), Jack obediently dropping his hands back to his sides and standing straight and still to keep the measurements accurate. Between the tailor's suggestion of a clasp and Flora's magical girl idea, clearly protecting the Doubletake's modesty is not going to be an issue - not that he actually thought she'd mind all that much if she was showing off that amount of skin, based on her current reflection.
Especially when it means she might get to unzip anyone who gets too handsy.
Meeting her eyes in turn but of course saying nothing in response to her thoughts, Jack's poker face is as practiced as they come. Besides, they both know who will end up the most frustrated at not having his hands on her bare skin in the end. "Are you quite practiced in making bodysuits, then?" he wonders to the tailor, his smile turning a little sly. Well-respected boutique, specialising in fetish wear. It wouldn't surprise him.
it's not your fault that you're always wrong the weak ones are there to justify the strong
Indeed it wasn't; if anything, Flora rather liked the idea of someone trying to unzip her, if only to see what Jack might do about it. Something told her that he'd look just roguishly handsome with a scowl of jealousy on his lips as he did on any other day, and, given how rather mild his reactions had become now that his empire was more or less under control, she wouldn't mind seeing him a bit wild, either.
"I am quite practiced in making almost everything." The tailor says smoothly, though his thoughts will confirm Jack's suspicions. Customers who come in a time or two looking for lovely lace gowns or cravats move on to asking for their garments to specifically be altered in certain ways, before coming right out and asking for all sorts of illicit customizations. Flora, for instance, had stood nearly naked on his pedestal more than a few times as he worked in various ways for her to carry her feather-daggers without them seeming too obvious. "But yes. Though I have Ms. Flora's measurements on file, working with so much leather would not be the same as lace, so we would probably book a fitting just to be sure." Married though he was, the tailor rarely missed an opportunity to get his hands dirty when it came to ensuring each of his creations came out perfectly sized.
"What's that hide from, anyway?" Raising her brows and seeking out Jack's eyes in the mirror, Flora grins. "Maybe we could match." She adds, her thoughts turning wicked and iridescent with laughter.
Catching Flora's eye in the mirror as the tailor bends to take further measurements, Jack raises an eyebrow in an is that so? back at her. Wild, jealous, and handing out pain to people trying to get their hands on her is definitely something he can do, if it would tickle her fancy; honestly, it's more the implication that his reactions have been mild that's likely to get under his skin.
"With clientele like the Queen of Torchline, I have no doubt you are," he quips back to the tailor, a catlike smile curling across his lips, his blue eyes dropping to the man as he works in a way that Flora will undoubtedly recognise as his I'm rifling through your head expression. "They do say leather is more difficult to move in. I bet she'll have to get in all sorts of positions to ensure things fit just so."
Gazing over his shoulder to hear the subject of their conversation speak up again, Jack shakes his head apologetically. "The Kingmaker," he says. "It terrorised the shores during the war. I was part of the group that took it out. Unless there's another one roamin' around, you might struggle to match, love."
it's not your fault that you're always wrong the weak ones are there to justify the strong
11-08-2024, 09:28 AM (This post was last modified: 11-08-2024, 09:28 AM by Flora.)
she's the kinda song you could play over and over
Mild isn't bad Jack; if anything it's mature. Of course Flora is still far too young and wild herself to want to see the captain on his best behaviour at all hours of every single day. While the Doubletake is more than happy to be oogled and mentally cast in varying erotic scenes in the minds of those around her, there's something undeniably (and problematically) hot in knowing that Jack's possessive hands around her waist could turn into fists at any moment.
Grinning at him as if she was merely pleased to catch his eye in the mirrors, if the queen's mind begins to wander into what it might be like to bait someone into getting a bit handsy with her, really Jack will only have himself to blame for it.
"Hey!" Feigning outrage, Flora waggles her empty champagne flute at one of the assistants lurking nearby before giving Jack an amused look. "What's that supposed to mean?" She wants to know, before the tailor glances up and gives them both an easy smile. "We will make sure it fits." The tailor says modestly, though as Jack's fingers go rifling through his thoughts, the captain will feel the lurid pulse of excitement in anticipation of having Flora at his disposal once more. As if sensing this, the queen gives Jack the mental equivalent of a shove. Whatever he's thinking I don't care. He's good at his job. She thinks; if the tailor wanted her to show up naked and freshly waxed for her appointment, she'd do so with a smile given the quality of his work. Besides, given that she couldn't read his thoughts, he seemed entirely harmless to her anyhow.
Reaching out a hand for her champagne, Flora's thougths grow thorny and barbed as Jack mentions the war, though having just seen her twin so recently and with plans 3 levels to go to bring him back to her side permanently, she was able to smooth them down quite quickly. "Does that make you a king, for having slayed it then?"
iF aNyThINg iT'S MaTUrE, Jack repeats in his own mind with only a twitch of his lips to show for it. Since Flora can't read his thoughts, it's where all if his pettiness is allowed to live. (Especially in a situation where he has to stand still and on his best behaviour, and in the presence of so many people where he can't simply respond to the Doubletake the way he normally would). Nevertheless, of course he packs those ideas away for later - possessiveness and a wild jealousy that might see the captain becoming a little less polite to those around them.
"I just meant that, as queen, you'd probably have a variety of outfits you might wear and need fittings for," the captain says with a sly smile to Flora in the mirror, finishing the liquor in his glass and handing the empty to another one of the assistance, though he doesn't require a refill. Not if he's still expected to stand patiently for a bit longer. And if he's meant to not fish hook the tailor's cheek as his thoughts turn increasingly salacious.
"It makes me part of a king, I'd say," he informs her, happy enough for the change of subject. "It was defeated by a group of us, after all."
it's not your fault that you're always wrong the weak ones are there to justify the strong
"Mmhm, I bet that's what you meant." Flora sasses, though to his point, she and the tailor have had sessions where the goal was for her to be able to bend down and show as much skin as possible in a gown, without going too far. Similar comments applied of course to the plunging necklines that she was so fond of wearing to official events.
"Part of a king? How very diplomatic of you." Grinning at Jack in the mirror, Flora very nearly suggests to the tailor that he ought to redo some of his measurements if only to force Jack to stand like an obedient mannequin a little longer, but no sooner has the though occurred to her, than the tailor is straightening and gesturing for Jack to put his sweater back on. You got off easy. Flora thinks, draining the last of her champagne. I'm normally here much longer.
"I'm nothin' but," Jack says with a smirk that will have Flora's truth ring burning her finger off, the captain raising his eyebrows as he realises his measurements are complete.
Despite the Doubletake's upset, he's more than happy to get down off the step, grabbing his shirt - charcoal grey with delicate black embroidery along the cuffs and collar - and shrugging into it. "When should I drop by to pick it up?" he asks of his coat, swanning across to Flora in the meantime to lean in and press a kiss to her cheek.
"That's because he doesn't want me to bend over so he can jerk off to it later," he whispers in response to her thoughts, adding another kiss and drawing back to fasten his buttons and straighten his cuffs.
it's not your fault that you're always wrong the weak ones are there to justify the strong
Playfully widening her eyes, now it's Flora's turn to hide her reaction to an ability of hers that she wasn't as keen on having everyone know about. Still, as the heat on her finger flared so did the mischievous slant of her thoughts even as she pursed her lips together to hide her grin.
"For you? I can have it done at the end of the week. We would not want to rush this, especially if there is no way to get more material if the fit is not perfect." The tailor replies, thinking that the raise of his eyebrow would go unnoticed given the way Jack immediately swanned toward Flora. Perhaps it might have, but the lingering question in his mind as to whether or not his fitting area was going to be commandeered by the queen for the next, oh...looking at Jack and Flora, he judged no more than five minutes.
"You're just jealous that he wants to jerk off to me and not you." Flora whispers in response as her gaze drops down to the way Jack's fingers went to cuffs, knowing precisely what it was like to be adjusted in just that way by the captain's clever hands.
