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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!
Having completed the duck competition through pure coincidence of time and place, Nova concluded that wandering seemed to be a good method of finding interesting things to see and do. Unfazed by the countless dangers of Caido, the young hybrid skipped off on her own once again. She followed her instincts, blonde and pink hair fluttering behind her as she made her way out of the city and into the surrounding areas. At first, she thought her methods had finally failed her. All around were dull trees and boring silence. No colors, no wonder, no excitement.
However, a sudden BOOM rang through her ears as the sky split with a flash of light. The sizzling crack of energy brough her body to a standstill, blue eyes comically wide with pure exhilaration. Was that lightning?! Not waiting for another bolt to answer her question, Nova took off at a run, breaking into the open field without hesitation. Placing her face to the sky, her feet shuffled and arms twitched, barely containing the anticipation of another strike.
Life is nothing without a little chaos to make it interesting
your dreams are all full of war you are from another time
Melita once avoided the Levinsward because she’d hastened towards Torchline long before the world had opened. The Hollowed Grounds had been nothing but a haunted nightmare, and she had no need to listen to the land screech and cry and maul all around her.
Now she avoided it because she’d once died by lightning.
The thunder roared and she stood stock still, eyes narrowing, speculating over happenstances and how she’d wandered here. Ordinarily, within moments, she’d be out of there – taking Firecracker and waging through snowstorms over this mess.
Another flash hastened across her eyes and she froze again; like memories swimming behind her gilded gaze, teeth gnashing, jaw clenching, wondering when one got over crashing to the ground, stepping in Mort’s Realm, and then sliding back out.
Fangorn grumbled something and she scratched the top of his head, then crossed her arms – but noted someone else fucking around in the middle of the storm. Cupping her hands around her mouth, yearning to be heard, she might’ve been nothing more than a distant figment; and that incensed too. “Hey! What the fuck are you doing out there?”
salvation doesn't look like light So what remains?
Through the roar of the wind and lingering crackle in her ears, a familiar voice trickled towards her. Nova took a moment to pull her eyes from the sky to glance at the woman, recognizing her as the one from the duck game. She looked upset for some reason. Had Nova missed something?
As quickly as the thought had come, it left, unconcerned with what might be bothering her. Instead, she smiled blindingly at the woman, stretching out her arms to the flashing sky. She shouted out at the top of her lungs, "I'm waiting to see the lightning! Isn't it pretty?!" At that moment, another struck, zigzagging across the clouds in a deafening crash. Nova jumped up, giggling with delight. "See?! Her hair had started standing up from the charged air, the blonde strands tickling her cheeks.
Life is nothing without a little chaos to make it interesting
your dreams are all full of war you are from another time
“Yeah, sure, until you get electrocuted!” Melita hollered back, baffled. Was this how people felt when she did something inherently stupid?
And it was unlike her to be held back by fear – but death and its impact incurred too many reactions that she didn’t particularly care for; like the underlining, rapid beat of her heart, and not going anywhere near the growing, growling storm. Instead, she backed away, figuring her warning sufficient.
Maybe she ought to find something to guard against lightning, in all honesty. Fangorn grumbled something low to her, and she found herself grabbing hold of her first companion, and he intertwined his vines around her arms, as if granting some comforting hug.
salvation doesn't look like light So what remains?
Thunder rolls in the distance. Perhaps the dry, parched ground will finally find some relief from a thunderstorm.
The weather quickly takes a turn for the worst as lightning pierces the sky and strikes a long dead tree. It doesn't take long before the tree is engulfed in flame. Branches fall to the ground, setting the ground, too, aflame. Lightning continues to streak through the sky, threatening to strike once more and set more of the world on fire.
Nova may not have a lot of self-preservation instincts, but even she had to acknowledge that the tree bursting into flames wasn't a good sign of what the lightning could do to her. Frozen in place, her mouth dropped wide, admiring the beauty even as the fear began to seep in. It was a foreign emotion, and she didn't appreciate how it tightened her muscles to a breaking point, a layer of cold sweat beginning to form on her skin. The way it leached the color from her complexion was not attractive. After all, how could she be scared of the lightning?! Look at the light! Look at the colors!
Another flash of electricity struck nearby, closer than before. It was as if the world was gently but firmly telling her to "Leave". And Nova heard it this time - loud and clear.
Backing away with reluctance and regret clear across her face, she made her way towards the woman who'd interrupted her fun. Her head was high with a mix of defiance and self-satisfaction. "See?! I'm fine. And did you see that tree?! The way it just exploded?! It was so PRETTY!" Nova moved her hands emphatically, pointing to the fire that now smoldered at the edge of the field, a not-so-subtle warning.
Life is nothing without a little chaos to make it interesting
your dreams are all full of war you are from another time
The fear varnished and lacquered over Melita’s blood like a knife; jackhammering in her heart, a crescendo, a beat, of hell and all the tortures with it. One moment her warnings were extended, unheeded, and within the next, the lightning struck; entangling into the tree simply because it could.
The terror was in the maelstrom of her ichor and in the heat of her rage. Fucking Sah and this fucking place and this fucking idiot. “The fuck it was,” she uttered as a growl, and nothing more, backing away until she could only see the image in her brain, flickering and flashing and bludgeoning and dead. She didn’t give a shit about this level of idiocy or defiance; she had enough of her own in spades, and sometimes it mauled and murdered instead of deluded. “The fuck is wrong with you?” She hissed, clutching tightly to her quiver, to her bow, to pieces that still her; tangible and known and near.
salvation doesn't look like light So what remains?
The woman's strong reaction was surprising, forcefully halting her excitement. Her body recoiled, flinching back uncharacteristically like a child who'd been slapped, her smile crashing down. She couldn't understand why someone would be so against the flashing and flames that she found so beautiful. Even if she did, no one had ever spoken to her like that. And she immediately knew that she didn't like it. Not. One. Bit.
Nova's face scrunched into a defensive scowl, fists clenching at her sides. "Nothing is wrong with me. What's wrong with you?" If she'd been in her Tide Jaguar form, her haunches would be raised with fur bristling and tail twitching dangerously. The fear was a distant memory replaced by wounded pride and anger visible in the darkening of her blue eyes to a midnight galaxy. Who was this tremoring woman to judge her?
Life is nothing without a little chaos to make it interesting
your dreams are all full of war you are from another time
What started out as judgement and concern was now contorting into her own traumatic umbrage. Years before, she wouldn’t have cared either; dancing about in just as much foolishness and triumph as this stranger, but now experience had scalded, marred, wounded, and killed; down to the very last distinction of her soul. Nor did she give a single shit about anyone’s sense of entitlement. Not children of gods, not her own flesh and blood, not whatever friends she had remaining out there in the world. She didn’t she owe this person anything.
Her own emotions waged, flared to something she’d never seen before – flames shooting out around her, surrounding and pervading. A warning sign, perhaps. “Have to be something wrong to go flailing about in a lightning storm, after you've seen that tree get electrocuted. But that’s fine. All on you if you want to die out there.“ Because Melita wouldn’t be – not again, not like that. Her salvaged rescue attempts were now bristling and torching; the warnings extended and quite enough, in her opinion. “Enjoy yourself.” She flashed her hand in a dismissive layer; clutching at Fangorn tighter, snagging at Sila to land on her shoulder, and beginning to walk back towards the inn.
--
Magic: I'm Fine, I'm Cool (passive): Fire flares around her when experiencing heightened emotions
Type: Dark | Rank: Basic
salvation doesn't look like light So what remains?
Just as her happiness flashed in sparks of glittery rainbows, Nova's anger flashed just as bright. She stepped forward, ignoring the crackling of flames behind and before her. Fear was but a distant memory as she pointed her finger at the woman. "At least I'm not scared of a little lightning!" Subconsciously, her own magic flared. It wasn't as strong as Melita's, but a ripple of rainbow lighting pulsed around her. As childish as the tantrum was, she didn't appreciate being dismissed or belittled.
She stalked after the woman, not even remotely done with their conversation. "Hey! You can't tell me what to do!" Nova reached out a hand, grabbing the infuriating person by the arm to stop her departure, not even considering the danger she might be putting herself in. "I know how to take care of myself!" In her ignorance, she didn't know exactly how wrong she was, but she had yet to taste true defeat (other than pesky duck games), and her juvenile mind was convinced of her own invincibility. Little did she know that her brother was the main reason she'd never felt anyone or anything truly strike her during her short existence thus far. However, her misguided confidence appeared as a steely expression in her dark blue eyes, determined to prove herself more than a pretty face.
Life is nothing without a little chaos to make it interesting
your dreams are all full of war you are from another time
The Honeybee had every right to fear an element that had decimated her – this doofus was just dumb. And though she could briefly wonder if everyone else had felt the same way about her multiple times, she wasn’t about to give someone she didn’t know any satisfaction of self-awareness. Instead, she rolled her eyes, continuing to distance herself from the crackling lightning. “Yeah, doing a stellar job of it,” Melita huffed, deliberately sarcastic, immediately wiggling out of the youth’s grasp. She ignored the jolts of pettiness beginning to flow through her, racing along veins and threatening to explode. It’d be so easy to punch the girl right in the face.
Maybe this was maturity. Maybe it was just the stranger’s dumb luck.
Though she narrowed her eyes, issuing a warning once more that apparently the fire hadn’t done enough of. The smuggler knew what it was like to be bold and audacious. Impeccably stupid. One could argue she’d never gotten out of that temperament. But this girl seemed to be in the life stage of ‘fuck around and find out’. She glared, a dangerous omen, ensuing one last, final notice. “Fuck off.”
salvation doesn't look like light So what remains?
Had Melita chosen to punch her, it might have instantly broken all Nova's carefully crafted delusions like a shattered funhouse mirror. At least it'd be explosively sparkly. But alas, her face is safe for the moment, and Nova's delusions are still firmly intact.
Puffing her chest, her hands were locked in fists as she jogged to stand before the insufferable woman. The warning was completely ignored as she tried to convince the unbeliever through sheer force of will. "Fine! I'll prove it!" With a stomp of her foot, her body began to shift. The black and rainbow fur coated her skin as her bones transformed, bigger, denser. It was like changing into a pair of comfy sweatpants that let every cell breathe a sigh of relief. Yet Nova didn't bask in the familiar sensation, too focused on proving this woman wrong. She was a big strong girl who knew how to take care of herself. And she wouldn't let anyway say otherwise. After all, who could stare down a growling Tide Jaguar and still want to fight? Her blue eyes held a dangerous glint of challenge, glowing almost as bright as the colorful rosettes across her bristling pelt. Hackles raised and fangs bared, she waited for the stranger to acknowledge her ferocity.
your dreams are all full of war you are from another time
It’d been a long time since Melita was ever intimidated; and it certainly wasn’t right now. Gone were the platitudes of unease, because irritation had firmly taken over the forefront of death and demise – rolling her eyes dramatically as the youth shifted into a tide jaguar. She should’ve taken the ‘fuck off’ advice.
“Oooh, real scary,” she uttered in the dullest of tones, before gently placing Fangorn down, so he could get out of the way. Sila took off from her shoulder, already knowing the impending platitudes. Melita should’ve been commended for how long her patience had blistered and fractured through; might’ve been a new record.
Before immediately drawing for her bow; and as it materialized between her hands, she snagged at her fire quiver, placing the arrow upon her string, and cooly aiming it at the beast and firing.
salvation doesn't look like light So what remains?
The woman's 'less than impressed' response was frustrating, and Nova's jaguar face further narrowed with annoyance and disappointment. Why did she look so calm? Did she not see her sharp claws? Maybe she hadn't noticed the dangerous glint of her dangerous teeth? Or see how her colorful fur showed off her powerful muscles? It perplexed her, because the woman didn't look blind. She'd obviously been looking at Nova the whole time. But that was the only logical reason for her reaction. Right?
And yet, apathy was preferred to the sudden flash of fire as a bow magically appeared in the woman's hands. She hadn't built the instincts to understand that she should dodge when someone was pointing a deadly weapon in her face, and Nova had the audacity to be surprised when the arrow came hurtling towards her. Then her innate feline desire for self-preservation had her leaping to the side, letting out a "MRAWR!" of indignation as the heat singed against her coat. So used to speaking with her siblings through the Attuned bond and thoughts alone, Nova immediately yelled out, Hey! That almost hit me! As if that wasn't what Melita was trying to do when she loosed an arrow at her. Growling, she leapt forward to pounce on the woman with outstretched paws.
