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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!
"A queen in life and a queen in death," Niki acknowledges with a respectful nod towards her; he may not be a ghost and he may not know much about hauntings from a personal standpoint, but everything Flora says certainly points to a spectral reign of terror. As for necromancers because I'm shit and I forgot to respond to that bit Niki does have a little more experience in that arena, gently gesturing towards himself. "I am Abandoned," he explains. "Apologies - I thought you had seen my magic back on the bridge when we met."
Cue Flora thinking twice about her liking him, he supposes.
"And yes, I have never been considered particularly healthy, I suppose," he says with a shrug. It would be easy to look at others and let envy turn him bitter - and some days are certainly more difficult than others - but by and large, Niki doesn't know what he's missing to resent it. "Probably for the best that I did not have a burning interest in becoming a woodsman or a hunter, no?" He smirks.
While jewellery making may not be his passion, it is after all what brings his income, and he can appreciate a compliment for what it is. Smiling to hear her approval - and accepting the squeeze to his bony shoulder, he glances back to the bracelet and nods. "Yes, I think so," he says, reaching into his bag and withdrawing a set of delicate, minute engraving tools, as well as a standing magnifying glass. "Would you like to do it yourself?" he asks, offering them out.
stay your pretty eyes on course keep the memories of who i was before
01-30-2025, 01:02 PM (This post was last modified: 01-30-2025, 01:23 PM by Flora.)
Flora
Flora sweeps into an exaggerated bow at his words, one hand placed dramatically over her heart. "Exactly," she agrees, straightening with a pleased grin. But then, as Niki gestures toward himself and explains, her expression shifts slightly, her mind whirring as she pieces together what he’s just said. "Wait—you’re the necromancer?" she asks, blinking in surprise. "What do you mean, I saw your magic back on the bridge?" Her brow furrows, because, no, she definitely hadn’t noticed anything like that in the midst of trying to help drag him up the hill. But now she’s replaying the memory, wondering if she’d missed something subtle, something small that hadn’t fully registered in the chaos of the moment (like a small bird that had come to life, if only briefly).
His smirk at his own misfortunes earns a bemused shake of her head, and she huffs out a breath, rolling her eyes like she’s half-exasperated, half-fond. "You joke, but honestly? If you ever did wake up one day and decide you wanted to be a woodsman or a hunter, I wouldn’t be surprised if you found some clever way to make it work." Because Niki might downplay himself, but Flora had already gotten the sense that he was resourceful in ways most people weren’t.
Taking the engraving tools, she flashes him a quick grin at his question. "I would like to do it myself," she says, her voice dripping with playful innuendo as she winks at him. But rather than making him get up, she simply pulls the magnifying glass stand across the table, setting it up so she can lean in and work without disturbing him.
Carefully, she begins to etch the outline of a hydrangea onto one of the coin-like silver pieces, her brows knitting together in concentration. The fluffy petals come together easily due to their simplicity, the delicate floral shape beginning to take form. When she finishes the rough outline, she straightens slightly and casts a look toward Niki, her lips twitching as she dramatically rolls her eyes. "Before you ask," she says, waving the engraving tool vaguely, "—it's a flower, because my name is Flora. Get it?" Her tone is mockingly conspiratorial as if she’s revealing some deep, complex mystery instead of a painfully obvious connection.
Fatefully, I tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me
Misery, Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep
"Yes, I believe that is the technical term for it," Niki says with a nod of his head. "I can reanimate the bodies of creatures that have passed on. Small creatures, granted, and it is only reanimation - there is nothing of the soul inside. It is a sort of false life, for a time," he explains. "The reason I fell onto the riverbank was because I was trying to test the range of my ability, and I reached too far out. I had succeeded in bringing back a sparrow by the time you arrived and spotted my cane."
For all the clever ways Flora believes Niki can make things work, apparently self-preservation has not yet made itself a priority when it comes to his allocation of resources. "Be that as it may, I am both better suited and more interested in metalwork," he says, noddiing in acknowledgement of her continued compliments, despite having no interest in creating a high powered crossbow or a woodcutting machine (yet).
Surrendering the tools willingly to Flora, whilst she takes them away to work on her engraving, he removes his glasses and rubs at his tired eyes, then begins to meticulously put away the rest of the supplies and equipment. "Hm?" Tilting his head towards the carefully sketched out flower on one of the coins, Niki cocks a smile in her direction. "No, I do not understand," he says, serious but for the playfulness dancing in his gaze. "Please explain it to me further."
stay your pretty eyes on course keep the memories of who i was before
Flora pauses mid-etching, blinking as Niki explains his magic in more detail. For a moment, she just watches him, her expression a touch distant as the information settles. "Huh," she murmurs, turning the engraving tool idly between her fingers. It makes sense, though. He liked to understand things, to figure out how they worked and make them better—why wouldn’t that curiosity extend to life itself, even in its absence? It should probably be eerie, but instead, it just feels... like Niki. Thoughtful, methodical, quietly intense in a way that sneaks up on you if you’re not paying attention.
"Welllllll," she says, tilting her head. "If you want to run any more tests, you can hold onto the mageglass until the end of the season, if you want." Her lips quirk slightly as she gestures toward the bracelet. "My boyfriend's birthday isn’t until then, anyway, and mageglass amplifies magic, so... could be useful." She wouldn't have to hide it from Jack that way, either.
As Niki plays dumb, Flora lets out a playfully slow and exaggerated sigh, setting the engraving tool down with painstaking care before turning to face him fully. "Alright," she begins, voice shifting into the deliberately slow and patient tone of someone explaining an incredibly complex concept to a particularly dim student. "My name," she says, tapping her chest for emphasis, like she was trying to communicate with someone who didn't even speak her language. "-is F l o r a. Like, you know, flowers?" She raises her eyebrows, watching him intently as if ensuring he’s following. "Hydrangeas are a type of flower. Which means that by engraving a flower onto the bracelet, I am—wait for it—putting something representative of my name onto the gift. Because my name is Flora." She spreads her hands in a grand, triumphant gesture, waiting for him to either feign enlightenment or continue to be an absolute menace.
Fatefully, I tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me
Misery, Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep
He waits for it - for the wince, or the cringe, or the polite understanding that thinly veils her sudden desire to get out of his company. And he thinks it comes from her one word (sound?) answer, only as Niki glances up and tugs his sleeves back down, Flora is offering for him to keep the mageglass. Blinking at her and then down at the bracelet, he shakes his head gently, though not because he doesn't desperately want to experiment with it.
"Even now, using my magic can take quite a lot out of me. If I were to amplify it, I daresay I would risk hurting myself in the process," he explains. "But thank you for the offer. It is very kind of you." More than he can say, in truth.
Then, of course, Niki sits back to be schooled on the meaning of flowers and Flora's name and how the hydrangea fits in with the engraving. His blue eyes widen almost comically, the boy nodding along as if trying very hard to tie together all the explanations she gives, looking from the bracelet to her hands and to her face again. "I think..." he says with exaggerated slowness, "I might... no. I have lost it. What was the first part again?"
Grinning and seeming happy to drop the act if only to save Flora's breath, he gestures to the design. "You are very good at that," he says. "It can be difficult to make an engraving on something so small."
stay your pretty eyes on course keep the memories of who i was before
Flora shrugs, her expression easy, unconcerned with whether he takes her up on the offer or not. "Well, it’s there if you change your mind," she says, before tilting her head at him with a slow, sly grin. "You know, you could always practice your magic while standing in Torchline’s healing fountain. That way, even if it takes a lot out of you, you wouldn’t wear yourself too thin." She winks, clearly enjoying herself far too much at his expense.
At his exaggerated attempt at confusion, Flora cackles, rolling her eyes as she reaches out—almost ruffling his hair before stopping just short, catching herself with an amused huff. "You’re an absolute menace," she declares, shaking her head. "I swear, if I'd had to explain it again, I'd engrave my name into your table so you wouldn't forget."
As he compliments her work the queen merely shrugs, brushing her thumb over the surface of the metal before holding it up for his approval. "Flowers aren’t that difficult," she says breezily, though there’s a hint of quiet satisfaction in her voice as she inspects her handiwork. "Besides, I couldn’t let you be the only one contributing to this masterpiece." Holding it out for his approval, Flora raises her brows. "So? What do you think?"
Fatefully, I tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me
Misery, Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep
"Ah, but that would not allow me to improve myself, would it?" Niki fires back easily, though his ears do prick up at healing fountain, as if he hadn't quite realised that Torchline was advanced as well as being beautiful and hot and all sunny shores and rolling waves. "Unless I could find a way to take the fountain around with me wherever I went," he adds. Which, yes, very much possible providing he remained in the region, but alas, as Flora can likely tell, he's quite attached to the woods.
Scoffing and shifting in his seat once more to stretch out his bad leg, Niki relaxes back in the chair somewhat and gestures to his table. "Be my guest. I do not haunt the table, but I cannot tell you what other spirits might lurk inside it." Or whether they would be appreciative of having Flora's name carved into them.
"Ah, do not sell yourself short," he says, reaching out for the bracelet to admire the hydrangea upon it that glitters in the light. "It is beautiful," he confirms with a nod. "And it certainly does not look like a necklace any more. Would you like me to get you a box to put it in?"
stay your pretty eyes on course keep the memories of who i was before
Flora tilts her head, her grin widening. "It’s a lot easier to improve if you can practice without passing out," she points out, her voice lilting with amusement. "And anyway, if you’re in Torchline, you don’t have to lug the whole fountain around—just take a bottle of the water with you, and it'll work just fine." She shrugs coyly, thinking she might just have found the key to getting Niki to agree to a brief stint in her region.
At his comment about the haunted table, Flora laughs brightly. "Oh yeah?" she challenges, planting her hands on the table as if daring any lurking spirits to make themselves known, her long nails drumming on the wood. After a beat, she glances sidelong at Niki, raising a brow. "And for the record, I don’t think you're supposed to haunt anything, seeing as how you’re not actually a ghost. Unless there’s something you’d like to finally confess?" gasps in Spanish meme here.
Satisfied with his approval of the bracelet, she leans back, crossing her arms as she nods. "Yeah, a box would be great—so long as it’s not too much trouble." Her gaze flicks toward the couch where her coat still rests before she tilts her head at him. "You still up for getting that coffee? Or have you had enough of me for one day?" Her grin is teasing, but beneath it, there's a silent out for him to take, if he needs it.
Fatefully, I tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me
Misery, Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep
"Passing out might be part of my training methodology," Niki informs her haughtily, though he does (reluctantly) incline his head in agreement with her. "If nothing else, I suppose I will become very hydrated should I visit Torchline," he reasons. All for the best, really, given that the region will likely be the death of him should he get heatstroke or be swept away by an errant wave. (To the surprise of absolutely nobody, Niki is not a very competent swimmer).
Watching the table expectantly as if there might really be a spirit ready inside it to jump out and scare Flora, when the wooden surface remains stubbornly silent, he merely shakes his head. "It must be shy," he says. "And one could argue that I can metaphorically haunt this house, given that I wander around it alone quite a lot. I also sleepwalk on occasion, so that can result in some interesting situations not unlike hauntings."
Nodding at her request for the box, Niki reaches for his cane. "Of course it is no trouble. I keep plenty of them for the other pieces I make for the marketplace," he assures her, shifting with practice to get himself on his feet, though he does reach out to steady himself on the back of the chair as a wave of dizziness seizes his senses. "Coffee sounds necessary as well as like a good break," he confirms, shaking it off and heading for the door. "Shall I meet you on the porch?"
stay your pretty eyes on course keep the memories of who i was before
Flora gives Niki a skeptical look (now it's her turn to look like the tell me more Michael gif), crossing her arms before ultimately shrugging. "Well, hydration is important wherever you are," she allows, though her tone suggests she’s still very much amused by his TrAiNInG MetHodOloGy.
The mention of sleepwalking, though, earns an intrigued tilt of her head, a slow, mischievous grin creeping onto her face. "Wait, you sleepwalk?" she echoes, her mind immediately filling with images of Niki wandering around in the dead of night, bumping into furniture, rearranging things in his home without realizing, or—gods—maybe even being responsible for the very ghosts he claims kept the place clean. "Oh, that explains so much." She barely resists the urge to laugh, biting her lip instead as she watches him with brimming affection.
As he moves to stand, she catches the subtle hesitation, the way he grips the chair for balance, and it takes every ounce of restraint not to reach out. Instead, she nods once, brisk and casual. "Yeah, sounds like a plan," she agrees, turning to grab her jacket from the couch. She doesn’t rush, but she does keep an ear tuned in case he suddenly keels over behind her. Stepping out onto the porch, Flora lingers just outside the door, leaning against the railing as she waits, her breath curling in the cold air.
Fatefully, I tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me
Misery, Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep
"So I have heard," Niki says of her lecture on hydration, and though he can't be said to be neglectful of himself on purpose, there are plenty of occasions where he becomes over-involved in a project and subsists primarily on cups of coffee and crackers. Coffee is a liquid, though, and so it sort of counts as hydration. Right? Right.
Nodding slowly, the admission is an easy one to make to Flora, though the boy can't rightly explain why. "Do not ask me how I manage it," he says, gesturing to his crutch and his leg brace. "But I do. I am particularly fond of stacking things on my kitchen counters and taking all of the books off the shelves to leave them open. It can make for a busy morning."
Quite what it explains that has Flora so amused is beyond Niki, but luckily he's too busy concentrating on staying upright to question her. Off he goes, though, heading towards the other end of the house to his workshop to collect the box for her bracelet. And to his credit, he doesn't keel over behind Flora.
He keels over in the hallway on the way back.
So technically he's adjacent to her, you see.
Either way, the second wave of dizziness seizes him, mind and body, and shakes, and suddenly Niki finds the world tilting dangerously away from him. Already unconscious before he hits the ground, the flush to his cheeks, rattle in his chest with each breath and the soft sheen of sweat on his brow are easy indicators as to the cause, and whether he likes it or not, he isn't going anywhere.
Except maybe Torchline. But that's up to Flora.
stay your pretty eyes on course keep the memories of who i was before
Flora beams at him because gods—that sounds like an absolute nightmare, but it’s so bizarrely him that she can’t help but find it adorable. "That sounds super inconvenient," she chuckles, grinning brightly. "But I love it. Ghost Niki, rearranging things in the night, making sure no book stays neatly shelved. You are chaos disguised as order, babe."
She’s still smiling to herself when she hears it; the unmistakable sound of someone hitting the floor. Only it isn’t so much of a thud as it is a whump, like a damp blanket slipping off a bed, which is honestly worse.
"Niki?"
She’s at his side in an instant, breath caught in her throat as she drops to her knees beside him. Her hands move instinctively thanks to the things Vai had taught her as a girl, checking his pulse, pressing the back of her hand lightly to his cheek, taking in the fevered flush, the damp sheen of sweat, the unsteady rise and fall of his chest. The obvious solution would be to take him to Torchline, but even if she wrote Jack and had him fetch Isla, Flora wouldn’t be able to get back to him for days. And the thought of waking him up in a whole new place when he was already too sick to stand? Yeah, that sounded like a surefire way to traumatize him and ruin whatever friendship they were starting to build.
So instead, she tries to makes him comfortable on the floor.
Flora flits around the living room, pulling blankets and pillows from wherever she can find them. She carefully tucks one under his head, and another beneath his shoulders, making sure his bad leg is straight and cushioned to keep it from locking up on him. For a moment, she hesitates—should she try to move him to his bed?—but no, she’s fairly certain Niki would rather die than be carried anywhere, even by someone as unfairly strong as she was.
Satisfied (for now), she rises and makes her way to the kitchen, flicking through cabinets with idle curiosity before pulling down whatever looks even remotely healthy. Eventually, she settles on making a pot of soup, something warm and filling that won’t upset his stomach, something he can manage even if he’s too weak to sit up properly.
Fatefully, I tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me
Misery, Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep
Whether or not it will thrill Flora to learn, this is far from Niki's first rodeo when it comes to inconveniently falling unconscious when he still has a list of things to get on with. It is the first time he's come around to a pillow beneath his head and feeling otherwise comfortable, granted, but his fever has seized him by that point and so the bout of being awake is very short lived. Just aware enough to know he feels dizzy just by lifting his head and that his body can't decide whether it's too hot or too cold, it's with a shivery sigh that he closes his eyes and succumbs, this time, to actual rest.
The next time he comes around is an hour or two later, by which time his breathing has become the steady, deep rhythm of someone in a deep slumber, his position on the hallway floor more relaxed as his body claims the necessary recovery time he's been denying it. Inhaling a careful, deep breath that won't set off a coughing fit, his brow furrows at the heady smell of soup (his stomach rumbles quite without his permission) and he blinks his eyes open to look around.
Feeling the unnerving and subconscious sensation of someone else being in his home but still far too weak to do anything concrete about it, he does try to get an elbow beneath himself, levering up into a half sitting position. "Hello?" he calls, his voice still gruff and sleepy.
stay your pretty eyes on course keep the memories of who i was before
By the time Niki stirs again, Flora has made herself at home.
She’d gotten out a scrap of parchment earlier, scrawling a quick note to Jack explaining that she wouldn’t be home tonight (not that he seemed to care, which, rude). Then, once the soup was left to simmer, she’d busied herself rifling through Niki’s bookshelves in search of something to pass the time.
She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting—maybe some dark and brooding poetry, maybe a treatise on death, maybe something about how to be the most stubbornly independent man alive (but no, that one was probably on Jack's shelves)—instead she found something on metalworking, and, given his knack for it, she decided to give it a go.
Sitting cross-legged beside him, Flora had smoothed back his dark hair, her fingers combing idly through the strands as she let her voice take on the kind of solemn, scholarly tone that might befit a dramatic reading of some great prophecy rather than whatever the hell she was actually saying. "—by adjusting the alchemical composition of the steel, one can achieve increased tensile strength, allowing for the forging of more intricate sigil-bearing alloys. However, the process requires—" She breaks off suddenly as a knock sounds at the door.
Pausing only long enough to press a soft kiss to the top of Niki’s fevered forehead (because of course she does), Flora sets the book aside and rises to her feet, stretching before heading to answer it.
It’s a fae. They give her a message for Niki, which she assures them she’ll pass along, but as soon as the door is shut, she’s making her way back to his side—just in time to hear the sleepy, rough-edged "Hello?" that signals his return to the land of the living.
Her teasing grin softens slightly as she takes in his hazy, exhausted expression. "How’re you feeling, babe?" she asks, folding her arms comfortably over her chest and leaning against a wall. "You hungry? I made soup. You didn't really have much to put in it, though."
Fatefully, I tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me
Misery, Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep
