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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 bell chimed merrily as the cafe door opened. Delectable scents washed over them as the young women stepped inside, of coffee and spice, warm bread and sugared treats. A fire crackled in a fireplace set in a wall and the seating arrangements had been cleverly spaced so that as many as possible might Benedikt from both the heat and the cozy sight.
Shaking the snow off her cloak and stomping her boots free, Maea stepped inside so that Elizabeth too could escape the weather. Taking in the space and the few visitors, she cast a glance at her companion.
"Where would you like to sit?"
Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself through the loudness of my own hurts
The cafe was exactly what Elizabeth needed. Its delicious smells and cozy atmosphere were a welcome relief from the damp coldness of the snow outside. She closed her eyes to take a deep breath that made her mouth water; tea, pastries, cakes, and more flooded her senses. It was hard not to snatch something from a nearby table, but she contained herself enough to knock the snow from her boots and jacket.
Glancing around, she noticed how the cafe seemed quieter than she would have expected. The few people who chose to venture out of their homes had gathered here, but most had already rushed home to escape the weather. It didn't surprise her when she took into account the Ancients' understandable dislike for the cold. And it subsequently made it easier for Elizabeth to spot an empty recess of the cafe. Smiling, she gestured to the small table against the wall. "Why don't we sit over there?" She'd wait for Maea to confirm before approaching, draping her coat on the back of her selected chair to reveal a silk long-sleeved blouse over her black trousers.
Once she'd settled, Elizabeth politely summoned a waitress, requesting a mint green tea and chocolate croissant along with whatever the pale Ancient would like to order. Her mouth continued to water between every word, anticipating the sweet treat; but she got the sense that her companion might have other things on her mind. Tucking a strand of wet hair behind one ear, she gave Maea a warm, unassuming smile. "How have you been?" Open, vague. An offer should she like to take it.
Dive into the sea of thought, and find there pearls beyond price.
Sing to me, I am not doing well Getting tired of my own words
Growing up, there had only been one or two places like these in the Hollowed Grounds. Maea recalled Amalia's family bakery as the followed Elizabeth to the chosen table and began peeling off her layers of warm clothing, down to the crimson lined black dress that was her staple. It had been a place as warm and fragrant as this one, but the sortiment paled in comparison to what she found on the menu. Food overall har been scarce, the servings small, the population always one crop fail away from starvation... and they happened more frequently as the years went on.
Stagnation. Life in a bubble, where nothing could enter or leave. Not even the wind, or rain. Sometimes it staggered Maea to think about it. How much had changed since those times. It was ten years in the past, but she wondered if she would ever truly be free of them. The memory was vivid enough; only faces came and went, names and details fading into a blur.
The waitress set a mug of mulled cider and a fruit tart dusted with powdered sugar before her. Maea wrapped her hands around the scalding cup and felt the heat seep into her bones. "I have become stuck," she admitted quietly, "and I don't know how to start moving again. I was killed, earlier this year. Ronin was kind enough to pull me back to life, but... so many things keep tripping me up that I can't do anything."
Pale fingers tightened around the vessel, showing the strain of forcing words to spill that would rather remain locked up in her chest. When breathing deeply didn't ease the tension, Maea raised the cup her lips and sipped, hoping the brew might do for her instead. It did, somewhat, and she managed a brief smile towards her company.
"What of you? Have you been well?" It was always the hardest question. The one where you decided on what level they would be speaking. Casual, frank or surface level - whatever suited ones fancy, really.
Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself through the loudness of my own hurts
Gratefully accepting the tea and croissant, Elizabeth took a careful sip as she listened to Maea. Her eyes widened at the information, somewhat embarrassed that she hadn’t noticed during her observations of the events. Now that she knew, her lips thinned with a low hum. ”Hmm... I’d seen that you were injured, but I didn’t realize your wounds were that serious. I’m relieved to see you alive and well despite it all.” The words were genuine, a soft smile reassuring the Ancient that there were still people who would support her during this time.
Her smile turned more thoughtful as she considered the other portions of Maea’s words. Tilting her head, she ran her finger over the rim of her mug to feel the steam against her palm. ”I imagine death might make it difficult to find your feet again. Although I guess that depends on what exactly it is you’re trying to ’do’.” And what circumstances or histories preceded the death, although she didn’t mention that. She wouldn’t make Maea feel the awkward need to decline answering a question, but Elizabeth would give her every opportunity to share if she’d like. The relaxed yet interested posture was practiced, promoting a safe atmosphere.
However, should the Ancient choose to divert the conversation, the therapist was willing to let her. As a show of trust, Elizabeth didn’t hold back the truth, sighing as she lifted her tea to her lips again. Between a few gentle blows to cool the heat, she said, ”There have been struggles in Halo, threats against our safety that have resulted in impossible circumstances...” Disagreements amongst how to handle the quest and its various risks. Shrugging her shoulders, she added, ”The tensions of seeing the Void slowly encroach on the Tundra has made people on edge, but we are doing what we can.” Strengthening walls, fighting Void creatures, completing quests.
The overall state of the land felt vast in comparison to her own status, but Elizabeth still gave Maea a smile, not trace of fear or apprehension on her face. ”I’m doing fine though. Thank you for asking.” Things would work out one way or another and she wouldn’t dwell on the what-ifs.
Dive into the sea of thought, and find there pearls beyond price.
A faint breeze wafts across the ground, swirling dust in erratic, spiraling paths. For a moment, it looks like shapes forming and vanishing. Then, a grating sound rasps near your shoulder—like fingers against stone. You spin around, but no one is there. The oppressive sensation of unseen eyes presses closer. This does not count as a Random Event for levelling or MP. There will be no further admin/re intervention.
Sing to me, I am not doing well Getting tired of my own words
The woman had a way about her, that made you feel as though they had been friends for years. As though it was fine to say anything, confess your deepest, darkest secrets, weep or wail or bang at the table and all would be forgiven. It certainly tempted Maea. Not because she necessarily enjoyed talking about herself, but rather because she had a feeling that this person, out of everyone, might be able to tell her how to start fixing herself.
"I'm sorry to hear about – " But she interrupted herself. A dervish of air blasted cold air along the floor, swirling dust like a small tornado. At a sound by her shoulder she snapped around in her chair, thinking someone had snuck up behind her, but there was no one. Only the door closing behind a customer as they exited the cafe. Goosebumps rose along her skin. Rubbing at her neck Maea suppressed a shudder, turning more slowly back to share a look of consternation with Elizabeth. "Did you... feel that?" It had been outside too, earlier. Not the same, but that sensation of being watched.
Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself through the loudness of my own hurts
Elizabeth was taking a sip of her tea when Maea was cut off by the breeze that swirled across the floor. It felt like she should be able to decipher a set of symbols in the debris, written like a warning before a scraping sound made her jump, splashing hot tea over her hand and into her lap. "Sh-" She let out a hiss of pain, snagging a napkin to mop the steaming liquid that reddened her skin while she whipped her head to look for the source of the sound.
Unsurprisingly, there was nothing to see, the feeling of being watched tingling down her spine as she looked back to Maea and nodded slowly. "I did..." Her calm demeanor had broken for a moment, carefully slipping back into place with practiced ease. Elizabeth sighed, glancing around again as she said ominously, "There have been a lot of strange things happening recently." It felt like there were eyes everywhere, watching, waiting. Trying to regain some of the atmosphere from before, Elizabeth cradled her drink and took a small bite of her croissant.
Dive into the sea of thought, and find there pearls beyond price.
Sing to me, I am not doing well Getting tired of my own words
Distracted by whatever the hells that sensation had been, it took Maea a while to settle again. Waving down the waitress, she asked for a cold towel for Elizabeth's hand, and remained quiet until the burn had been properly seen to. Then she leaned back in her chair, letting out a slow breath.
"Strange... feels like an understatement," Maea murmured, even as she shook herself to try and move past the feeling of being watched. "I was going to say, I'm sorry about the struggles you have in Halo. I wish I could do something to help... but much as I'd wish to, I can't really go there." It was a regret among many. "Finding ones feet... it is hard, yes. I feel like the world is changing too fast, and I can't keep up. I've changed too, but it seems I can't quite let go of the things I have lost. Family, friends, allegiances... So many of the dreams and plans I had for my life no longer hold any meaning."
Pushing the tart around on its plate, she rubbed crumbs off her fingertips and set it aside, any apetite gone.
Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself through the loudness of my own hurts
She let out a nervous chuckle, wielding her warm mug like it might fight off more than the chill. "You could say that again." Setting down her tea, she took a moment to wrap the cool cloth over her reddening hand. It soothed the heat, making it easier to smile and slip back into the conversation. "Don't feel bad about that. We're taking care of it, and you have to take care of yourself." Despite the chaos in Halo, she didn't expect people to drop everything and come to their rescue. They had plenty of strong, capable people defending the icy tundra of a habitat. And as flattering as it was that Maea wanted to help, she obviously had her own conflicts to address.
Elizabeth listened closely to every word, recognizing the pain of someone trying to adapt and change while being held back by their past. She nodded her head, a gentleness coming over her expression as she put on her therapist hat. "Sometimes, when life shifts and paths diverge, we have to realize that some plans or aspirations may no longer be possible in the same respects as before. This doesn't mean that they're never going to be possible, but they may not look the same as what we'd hoped." Shifting the cloth over her hand, she let the words sink in for a moment.
A lone strand of brown hair fell from behind her ear, but Elizabeth was too focused to bother tucking it back, her smile soft. "As strange as it sounds, we have to allow ourselves to grieve that loss. To accept the new reality and find new meaning. Whether that's an adjustment for our new circumstances, or something new to pursue, we first owe it to ourselves to let that sadness have space. Because those emotions need to be recognized and validated." Like any emotions, people had to acknowledge them and understand their purpose so that they could give them the attention they needed in order to resolve. Until that healing happened, it would continue to grow and irritate into something unhealthy and painful, an infected boil festering with neglect.
Dive into the sea of thought, and find there pearls beyond price.
Sing to me, I am not doing well Getting tired of my own words
Listening attentively in turn, Maea did her best to simply accept the sentiment for what it was. It was a big flaw of hers to argue back, to contradict and justify herself even to her own detriment, and it rarely served her. Sipping on the mulled cider, her gaze had a distant look about it, no doubt touching on the aches and pains that kept haunting her.
"How... would I go about doing that? I've tried talking about some things with friends in the past, but it hasn't really helped much." Harper had made her feel less alone, though no less guilty for her actions and the harm they casused. Evie had admittedly helped her lance an abcess of old resentment, but meeting her again had only reinforced how different Maea had become, how changed their shared homeland was from what they knew. Sunjata remained an open wound no matter how she wished to leave what happened between them in the past, and as for Astaroth and Danta... they loomed in her mind as a testament tro her inability to embrace what she had become. If she couldn't accept their nature, how would she ever tolerate herself?
"What is the difference between recognizing the feelings and just... ruminating?"
Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself through the loudness of my own hurts
Elizabeth nodded her head, glad to hear that Maea hadn't necessarily isolated herself and her emotions. She was already ahead of other people in that regard, even if her expression was more haunted than others. "Talking is good, but sometimes you need to listen - maybe not to others, but certainly to yourself." Some people didn't like to hear that they had to look inward to find the answers. It sometimes required time and effort that wasn't comfortable, dredging up thoughts and emotions. However, Maea's question told her that the Ancient might have the perfect mindset to do so, recognizing that there was a 'good' and 'bad' way to self-analyze.
She took a sip of her tea to consider the best way to respond, finally settling on an analogy. "'Ruminating' is like picking a scab, itching at it over and over until the scar deepens along with the pain. It often involves blame and recurring negativity that strengthens with each instance." Elizabeth didn't mention that this sometimes appeared in poor coping mechanisms that failed to dampen the guilt or self-pity. Tilting her head, she focused on the 'right' way to think. "'Reflection,' on the other hand, is like rinsing the wound with cool water, softening the scab and allowing the injury to slowly begin to heal without debris or interruption. To 'reflect,' we have to set aside the blame or negativity, looking at the facts and allowing the emotions to breathe. We don't identify sadness and get frustrated, feeling it unjustified or wrong; we try to understand why there's sadness, then validate it as something that just is. Not something that needs to be changed or fixed, but something that exists, and is allowed to exist." Because emotions were not the enemy. People often thought they were 'supposed' to feel a specific way, or that they didn't have a 'right' to that emotion; but feelings weren't something to fight, they were something to be nurtured and embraced. If treated correctly, they would allow further growth and understanding.
Smiling softly, Elizabeth said as much to Maea. "With time, we may come to understand ourselves better. Sometimes, the wound will have shown us what it needed in order to heal, or simply healed on its own with that time."
Dive into the sea of thought, and find there pearls beyond price.
Sing to me, I am not doing well Getting tired of my own words
Maea shifted in her seat, uncomfortably aware that she had done precious little 'listening' to anything or anyone over the years. Herself least of all. Reaching for her slice of fruit tart, she picked it up with her fingers and took a bite, reflecting that the sweet tartness if berries was a far cry from what instinct would have her savor. The deep ruby color of the filling was right, but that was also the end of it. The lacking satisfaction in the bite suggested she would have to go hunting soon... a thought that had her lips curling in what could be distaste. Or perhaps despair. Out of all the things that tormented her, the present was by far the biggest wound.
"What if I don't like what I find?" she wondered, frowning at her food. "What if there are things I can't forgive, things shouldn't be allowed to exist? I – " She drew in a breath, hating that she would have to explain. "Being Ancient... comes with drives. Needs, impulses, that I find... alarming. I don't want to feel them, I don't want to act on them, but if I don't I'll turn to stone. I don't know... how to accept things like that without turning into someone I don't want to be."
Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself through the loudness of my own hurts
Removing the cloth from her hand to readjust it, Elizabeth paused her movements to consider the question. She had a million answers to give, but there seemed to be something else she wanted to say. Sitting quietly, she waited until Maea seemed to address the heart of the issue. It wasn't an uncommon problem, even for non-Ancients to feel guilt around survival and what actions were necessary. For some, it was a single instance of self-preservation that would always haunt them. For others, it was a daily choice that ate away at their psyche.
She hummed softly to herself, trying to find the best way to approach the topic. Ultimately, she settled on nature. "Do you blame a wolf who hunts deer? Or a bird who scavenges worms? What about a snake that eats mice?" Between each example, she paused for a moment, letting Maea think about it. There was no secret on how Elizabeth planned to continue, but she did so anyways, speaking softly into the warm atmosphere, "There is nothing wrong with meeting your basic needs. There can certainly be... inhumane ways to do so but simply taking what you need while minimizing the suffering of others is not one of those." Even if Maea did revel in the bloodshed and suffering, Elizabeth wouldn't judge her. There was a hierarchy of life, and if those who were stronger sought destruction for entertainment, that was within their right. They would find no judgement from her.
Shrugging her shoulders, she lifted her mug to her lips. "Life is a delicate cycle, and while you may hesitate to take what's necessary to survive, other predators may not. It is up to you whether that is worth the cost - or what means make it justifiable - but you should not feel guilty for doing what you need to live, for wanting to live."
Dive into the sea of thought, and find there pearls beyond price.
Sing to me, I am not doing well Getting tired of my own words
"No," was the answer she gave to each example, "because the wolf is born to hunt. I was not born as an Ancient. I was born Abandoned, and I died as one. The reason why I am here now is because the natural order was disrupted. The Voice... she ripped souls from Mort's realm, turning those of us that listened to her promises into Ascended. And when she was defeated, the choice we had was between Dygra and death. I wonder... what would you think about a deer that turned into a tiger just so it wouldn't have to die? Is it still fine for it to roam among other deer, even though it dreams of eating them? Is it actually a tiger, or is it a deer in a guise, or simply an abomination that shouldn't be allowed to exist?"
It was a question that lay at the core of her being. Most of the time she could convince herself that it was a moot question, that she had made her choices and simply had to live with them. But every once in a while, the deep unsettling thought crept up on her that her existence was something wrong. Somehow an affront against nature, against Mort, even more a mockery of Caido than her abandoned spark of magic had been.
Of course, that begged the question why Dygra would accept one such as she. Was it because of how wrong her existence had become? And why would Vi's demigod be allowed to revive her a second time? Even if the decision had been Ronin's, she couldn't believe Vi wouldn't be aware of how the power was being used...
"Even if it is allowed, I don't know... if it's something I really want to be. Sure, I hunted in the past, but it was only ever out of necessity. I didn't enjoy it. Now... the fact that I am even capable of taking pleasure in inflicting blood and death makes me feel sick. And yet... what choice do I have, if I still don't want to die?"
Carefully setting the food down, she brushed the crumbs off her fingers and braided them together. Tightly knotted, as though to rein in any impulse, any thought or emotion that would make her forget what it was like to be a deer and know the dreadful fear of being prey.
Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself through the loudness of my own hurts
