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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've done nothing wrong Except for all the atrocities
“Do you mean the racism?” She remarked with a hand wave, before snagging a few more strawberries. “Though I suppose that’s all swept under the rug now that they’ve opened it up for everyone.” Whether or not that was true, she supposed, remained with their citizens and inhabitants, and the Family orchestration. She made no mention of the latter again, given her uncle’s current…association. So she shrugged, casually biting into another berry while he asked his inquiry, segmenting away from her parental semblances and memories, in favor of ridiculous notions. Easier to hide under those.
‘Outlook not so good’ popped up immediately – and she grimaced. “Huh. Well. I guess what constitutes normal?” Had Caido ever been such a place? For as long as she could remember, existing here, there’d always been some clusterfuck. “Maybe we need to be more precise.” She took hold of the ball this time, rattling it around while she perused through potential questions. “Will Starfall leave a horrible and traumatic impact?” There – that seemed better. Grinning, she waited for the answer, as it bobbled and wandered to ‘cannot predict now’.
at another place in time, you were infinitely mine relatively alright, when berenstein was fine
“I totally do mean the racism.” Sunjata announces with a snort, huffing a sigh. “You can drop the rules and say it’s open, but I’m pretty sure it’s still awkward for the Abandoned. There’s gotta be people there up in their towers claiming it was a dumb decision and people probably agree when they're behind closed doors.” If any of the Order were still around, maybe they would be proponents. But as it stands, Sunjata hadn’t exactly… Helped, with that whole situation.
Anyway.
He asks his question and watches as the answer bubbles up to the surface again, parting the blue liquid with an answer that seems uncomfortable – if he allowed himself to believe in it. “Yeah, you try.” He hands the ball over to her when she reaches to take it, watching as it shakes and her question reaches the air. His nose wrinkles and he waits for the answer, and when it comes he shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Maybe it’s broken? Ask it if it's broken.”
at another place in time, only parallel to mine the universe was alright, when berenstein was fine
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
I've done nothing wrong Except for all the atrocities
“Probably a bunch of old farts.” Stuck in their ways and indifferent to how others felt. Though she had to wonder how they were feeling now, with Dahlia and the FaMiLy in charge of their region. Though she wouldn’t wish it on anyone, it still felt a bit like karma.
When the answer came unbidden to both of them, her nose wrinkled. “Seems like a cop out,” she growled at it, before shaking it again. “Are you broken?” The blue dial within bobbed around for a bit, before popping up unceremoniously with ‘without a doubt’. Snorting, she placed it down, rolling her eyes. “Well, maybe it’s had enough then.” Head tilting, and fingers snatching at the last of the strawberries, her gaze went back towards her uncle. “Anything else you need done around here?”
at another place in time, you were infinitely mine relatively alright, when berenstein was fine
“Ohho, yeah.” Sunjata says on the end of a chuckle, the laugh leaving him lightly as he pushes past those thoughts of Stormbreak (and the things he’d helped do for the region.) But as it stands, the Flood’s busy with the magic eight ball, trying to see whether or not it’s broken. His steel gaze focuses on it, head tilting slightly as he encroaches on his niece’s space to read the letters.
It brings a snort, a quiet little agreement as they drift from playing the game and he takes a look around the living quarters of his home, keeping tabs on Petronella first and foremost. “I don’t really need anything done, but if you wanna help me try not to fuck up fixing and cleaning up my lanterns for the festival..” He raises a scarred brow toward her and offers a soft twitch of a smile.
at another place in time, only parallel to mine the universe was alright, when berenstein was fine
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
I've done nothing wrong Except for all the atrocities
The lanterns were a worthy enough distraction, and she fought back about quipping over hey at least you didn’t have to make one for me this year because it sounded a touch too close to home and a little dark for her liking. She’d grown in some ways, at least. “Sure,” she offered instead, trying not to look overly interested and intrigued, leaving the magic eight ball to fend for itself. Whether or not the strange little object would prove to be true in all matters of fortune would remain to be seen – or most likely, in the Honeybee’s case, forgotten.
