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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!
11-30-2024, 11:23 AM (This post was last modified: 12-13-2024, 01:55 PM by Lena.)
a ship is safe in harbor but that's not what ships are for
Morning amidst the Celestine always came with routine structures; checking over water, food, conditions of the animals, and then any newcomers that might’ve arrived in the middle of the evening. Lena was committed to these like clockwork, never meandering amidst the gardens or across the cobblestones, but with a firm and unyielding stride.
That she’d been waylaid at all had simply been due to the vampire gourds.
After closing the encantado enclosure, she’d been aiming for the aviary portions next, seeds, nuts, and fruits already gathered in her basket, when the creatures popped out along the zoo’s pathways. For half a moment, the Caretaker sighed, knowing she truly didn’t have time to occupy them. “Off you go,” she shooed initially, hoping they’d budge without much more of a command and she could be on her way. Mittens even growled and hissed, hovering over the three of them with a sinister stare – but it didn’t much faze the delinquents.
/// forgive me father, for i have sinned and as i kneel here now,
Parting from Flora, before the butcher makes his way toward the shops and the inevitable skyships to bring him back home – he continues his explorations in the Celestine for just a tiny bit longer. There’s no particular reason, aside from the fact that it was peaceful and comfortable and the variety of animals were truly unique to witness as he drifts along the paths. He drifts down another as he sees a familiar figure – familiar enough, given he’d only just met her recently. An acquaintance that had witnessed how horrible he was with a bow, with no judgement between them for it.
At any rate, she isn’t alone, and the butcher pauses in his steps to peer around her and see a gaggle of gourds that seem very much in the way. That snowball is there, as well, doing its best to snarl at the gourds as they continue to be a problem, and so the butcher approaches carefully – curious if any of these were like the gourds that Danta had told him about – before he clears his throat to announce his presence. “Lena, my dear, how wonderful to see you again.” He says in a swift and smooth greeting. “Would you like assistance with these gourds?” Flashing her a friendly smile, the butcher’s hands clasp behind him, looking like he might be a butler more than a visitor.
Astaroth
hands red with blood, i know deep down, that i'll do it again ///
a ship is safe in harbor but that's not what ships are for
Given how frequently the Celestine was occupied by tourists, visitors, and helpers alike, she wasn’t surprised to hear another voice – she simply hadn’t expected Astaroth. “Oh hello! Not working on the bow today?” She winked, nose wrinkling for good measure. She also hadn’t picked it up since that day – so it was no slight on the Ancient.
And though she was also unbothered by the gourds, as they were a commonplace nuisance this time of year, she sighed; more than likely, if they weren’t removed, they’d cause issues for many others intending to wander through the gardens and zoo. “If you’d like.” They hadn’t given into listening to her subtle command, so perhaps they needed something stronger. “Maybe we can chase them out?”
With a wry little grin, she shifted; a smaller cat form, but formidable in its own way just the same, and while Mittens growled and displayed its fangs, she started after one in particular that was already opting to turn tail.
/// forgive me father, for i have sinned and as i kneel here now,
A soft laugh slips from lips that stretch over too sharp teeth with the smile that spreads in greeting with the shake of his head. “Alas, not today. I may have considered that I was a lost cause with it.” All playfulness aside, the gourds are really the star of the show rather than the two acquaintances. As such, he nods toward the gaggle of vampire gourds with his question.
His smile widens a fraction, nodding his horned head as he watches her shift into a smaller, feline form. “I would be delighted to.” He says to the now-feline, knowing he’d not be able to speak to her through any attuned bond. But, that doesn’t stop him from shifting into his fyrhund shift, the lava rock cracking with menacing orange glows within the crevices as he moves.
He chooses one that seems to be relatively unaware – or maybe it’s because it’s ignored Mitten’s growl – at any rate, it’ll be met with the chomp of too sharp teeth, snapping together beside the gourd in order to convince it rather forcefully to move.
Astaroth
hands red with blood, i know deep down, that i'll do it again ///
a ship is safe in harbor but that's not what ships are for
“I thought we were getting the hang of it!” And she meant it, in some way, though maybe she was simply being positive and radiant, rather than adhering to their rather…diminished version of capabilities.
But then there was chasing to be done, and she found it much more amusing in cat form. Where her bird shift might have been inclined to fly away rather than yield to a common pursuit scenario, the fox, and now feline endeavors, were ecstatic to be racing after the tendrils of vines and the grumbling of gourds. She wasn’t much larger than some of the pumpkins, but she wasn’t to be deterred, howling in their direction, and watching some immediately begin to bobble and hobble down a path.
The Ancient’s methods proved formidable too – she could hear the chomping and then the subsequent squeaking as it began to race away. Mittens’ growling and own ivories snapping nearby hinted that there was a horde trying to make their way down towards one of the enclosures, where many tourists visited, and that wouldn’t suit. Angling her tail to twist and turn and indicate her movements to Astaroth, given he wouldn’t be able to hear her over Attuned measures, she began to track again.
He was, for a moment, before it dashed away once they’d parted ways. Astaroth wasn’t much of a ranged fighter – in fact, the most he could get away with was probably the soon to be whip. But she had truly been getting the hang of it, and even if he can’t tell her right this second that he hopes she finds use from the bit of training she’d done with the bow, he hopes he can later.
Right now, though, there’s a bunch of vampire gourds to go and chase off. And chase off he does. With all the menacing power of volcanic plates and glowing lava and a maw full of ashy smoke, the butcher snaps at the gourds with equally sharp teeth to try and chase them out. It works, mostly, as it begins to run off – and he’s distracted to see the flick of the feline’s tail with her intentions, the butcher trails after her, a dark and menacing shadow to the vampire gourds they’re in pursuit of.
a ship is safe in harbor but that's not what ships are for
Lena didn’t have any of the menace of many other forms and shapes; which suited her just fine. She had no goals or intentions of being the overbearing, hulking, minatory animals; the feline divination purring beneath her soul was exactly the right fit – and had her chasing, stalking, the infiltrators with all the prowess of those who simply yearn to chase movement.
Astaroth had similar ideas though, and as Lena leapt onto benches and enclosure walls, intending to take full regard for the expanse the pumpkins were rampaging through, they moved. No doubt daunted by the Ancient’s current state, they yielded to a more direct path, and with tourists coming towards them…it could be an issue.
The Caretaker launched from her perch and growled at one; it deviated and rumbled swiftly, barreling and rolling directly into Astaroth’s path.
He harbored two shifts – one of fire and canine tendencies and the other a menacing creature of too many teeth, sharp and fast but harder to manage. He’d picked his soul shift, the one that had him in more control as they chase after the vampire gourds. Paws stretch out beneath him, carrying him along the path not unlike a herding dog with a maw of smoke.
The butcher is focused so much on the whole that he’s actually surprised when the gourd rolls into his path, a snarl leaving his maw that has sparks of embers escaping as it starts to panic and grumble more. With his sharp teeth bared, the butcher tries to redirect the gourd’s path out of where any tourists might come across them all.
a ship is safe in harbor but that's not what ships are for
The gourd responded in due course – screeching and rolling across the cobblestoned path. The tourists reacted in kind as well, also giving faint whimpers of alarm, but otherwise seemingly nonplussed and stepping around. The shifted animals giving chase to the pumpkins might’ve been the scarier aspects, and Lena was certain she’d eventually be given notice about fyrhunds having escaped their enclosure.
But she was determined that something like that wouldn’t happen again, and as the gourd shuffled and slunk its way towards the exit, she beelined for another smaller individual who didn’t have the good sense or reason to follow its brethren. She gave a feral, fanged hiss, and its eyes widened, bulged, at the sentiments of a threat to all of its instincts, regardless of the fact that the Caretaker wouldn’t actually harm it.
In retrospect, the butcher harbors absolutely zero qualms with harming the gourds – but he is a guest here and he’d offered his help, and Lena was an acquaintance that he deemed important to have. Innocent in ways that the butcher doesn’t intend to ruin, nor even with the potential to upset her. He is a guest who is helping. And that is precisely what he does.
The fyrhund continues to be that looming, threatening figure to the gourds as they make their way to the exits, withdrawing before his smoking maw has a chance to actually snap at the flesh of the creatures when his bright, glowing orange eyes spot the feline with the feral hiss, and he sinks back to watch and snarl his agreement to the beast until it’s followed the hint.
a ship is safe in harbor but that's not what ships are for
Lena’s innocence could be debated; she’d certainly seen enough in her short life. War. Bloodshed. Ruin. Death. It was the choices she made that might’ve seemed naïve and unsullied – but in retrospect it was simply because she didn’t want anyone else to experience the pain and agony of such horrible cataclysms. And while she couldn’t protect every single living being, she certainly gave it her all – through action, kindness, and compassion. A different track, when it came to living in Caido.
Even now, when the gourds could be easily vanquished, she’d much prefer to steer them out of the gardens and into someplace more hospitable. Whether or not her own influence ensured Astaroth refrained from mangling wasn’t anything she’d conclude; far too busy pressing her paws into the stony paths and chasing down renegade pumpkins. She gave another twitch of her tail as they bent around more tourists, who either had the good sense not to scream, or remained wholly unbothered by it all.
The pack of vampire beasts grumbled and screeched at the fyrhund far more than her, but it didn’t matter – they were moving along. The Celestine’s entrance unfurled up ahead, and if they could just get them around the large swaths and groups, they’d be in the clear.
He’s a good guest, as far as he’s concerned. Helping Lena to change the location of the gourds, moving them rather than destroying them. They growl and groan, at least, and Asta is careful to avoid getting close to any other tourists that flit about the paths while still trying to keep on course. It seems to work out, at least, because despite their protests, they were still moving.
And so, Asta continues his mission – angling them and herding them not unlike a shepherding dog might, with nips in the air by them to continue to keep them moving if it seemed they would shy away from the chance to while also offering a few throaty and smoky barks to add into the mix.
Lena likely would be getting a message about a fyrhund breaking out, but at least they would both know that it was only the butcher trying to help.
a ship is safe in harbor but that's not what ships are for
In some part, the gourds did a lot of the work for them. Several groups spotted the little cretins barreling their way (or the cat…or the fyrhund) and zigzagged out of the path with expressions of glee, trepidation, or mild screaming. Lena gave an inward grimace, knowing she’d have to deal with some of the fallout later, but where no one was getting maimed, mauled, or harmed, she figured it would come with some educational value, like leaving wild animals alone.
The rest of the myriad and ragtag pumpkins shuffled, grumbled, and growled their way out, treading and tracing further into the midst of Stormbreak – hopefully into gardens or the Grotto, rather than the whole of the Plaza. Figuring that might be a future endeavor for fellow Dragoons, Lena shook her head and shifted back, hands on her hips as she watched the last one saunter out of sight.
Turning her attention back to Astaroth, she had to laugh. “Thank you. I’m sorry they’re so ridiculous.”
/// forgive me father, for i have sinned and as i kneel here now,
The butcher certainly leaves everyone in the path alone — far enough that he doesn’t even let any lingering puffs of hot smoke get near them. He focuses wholly on the vampire gourds and the way they disperse once they’re finally out of the Celestine, content that the zoo area would be safe from any nagging little cretins.
So as Lena shifts back, the butcher rounds back toward her and shifts back himself — a janky kind of shift, not one that was as smooth and brilliant as the attuneds had. But once he’s back on his usual two feet, his tail flicks idly as he brushes his hair back from his face, looping it behind the protruding tines of his antlers to flash Lena a bright, shark toothed smile, offering his own rumbling baritone of a chuckle to accompany her laugh.
“You are quite welcome, my dear. It was actually quite fun.” Inclining his head with a hint of chaotic and playful mischief that glimmers in his dark gaze, he straightens back up.
Astaroth
hands red with blood, i know deep down, that i'll do it again ///
