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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.
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Feeling much better after their conversation, Sohalia sipped at her wine as Flora concocted a poem to Vox, laughing at her exaggerated sarcasm. She was just about to voice her own when, out of nowhere, a faint sizzle of static had her on high alert, and then -
A fizzing voice cut through Soh’s laughter, and she watched with wide eyes as a faint outline of something wriggling and writhing appeared, disembodied voice chuckling at Flora’s “flattery.” When it disappeared, leaving a faint scent that Soh couldn’t quite place and a lingering hum, she looked at Flora, horrified.
”What - was that Vox?” she whispered, swallowing hard before downing the rest of her wine and pouring another glass - this time, a rather large portion. ”How did he know - how did he hear -“
there's no life without you here
Minor powerplay allowed without permission.
Feel free to use force/magic on Sohalia.
Flora's whole body stiffens, fingers tightening around her wine glass as a sharp jolt of surprise—no, outright irritation—curls in her stomach. The lingering hum of static still prickles at her skin, a reminder of the intrusion, and her already frayed nerves threaten to snap like a live wire. "Oh, for fuck’s sake," she hisses, voice low and annoyed as she flicks a sharp glance around them, like she might actually catch Vox. "That was supposed to be a joke. Not a godsdamn summoning."
Lifting her wine, she takes a long, furious gulp, as if she might be able to drown out the lingering scent of ozone with alcohol alone. It doesn’t work. Flora exhales sharply, forcing herself to unclench her jaw before turning back to Sohalia, expression caught somewhere between disbelief and deep, deep annoyance. The last time she'd encountered a member of the Family she had been murdered after all, and yes, she'd also been in the Greatwood then, too.
She glares at the empty air where his presence had fizzled out, then grimaces and takes another angry sip of wine. "Ugh. I feel like I need a lot more wine after that. And possibly an exorcism."
Flora took the whole Vox-appearing-out-of-thin-air thing far better than Soh, who was unbelievably shaken by how easy it apparently was for the Family to hear and track them. No wonder they always knew what was going on.
A small, private part of her wondered just how much of the conversation Vox had heard - or cared about. How could her indiscretion be used against her?
In any case, she was shaking faintly when she turned her attention back to Flora - and if she was so shaken, she couldn’t imagine what Flora, who had actually been killed by the Family, was feeling. Soh reached out to squeeze her friend’s arm in solidarity.
”Vox go away,
We don’t want to play,
And some conversations are private.”
She wasn’t exactly a master poet, but she hoped that her silly little poem would at least bring a smile to Flora’s face - and wouldn’t summon the Family’s voice back to their little clearing.
there's no life without you here
Minor powerplay allowed without permission.
Feel free to use force/magic on Sohalia.
The air crackled—just a whisper of static, a fizzle of unseen presence curling at the edges of reality. And then—
"Oh, Sohalia!" Vox’s voice crackled into being, warm and delighted, like a radio tuning into a station you never meant to find. "How charming! A second poem, just for me? My dear, you shouldn’t have!"
The air hummed, vibrating faintly with amusement. "Though, I must say… very exclusionary language. ‘Go away’? ‘Private’?" A thoughtful buzz, like a thousand unseen filaments twitching and then a final fizz of static, a feeling of something unseen grinning with too many teeth—and then silence.
Flora stiffens again, her grip tightening on her wine glass as more static slithers through the air like some unwelcome, smug little snake. Her jaw clenches, irritation flaring hot beneath her skin. Gods, she is so over this. "You know," she mutters, flicking a sharp, exasperated glare at the empty air, "-for a guy who wants to act like he's some omnipresent void-being or whatever, you’re really just giving major eavesdropping neighbor vibes." She rolls her eyes, setting her glass down with a little more force than necessary, the sound sharp against the quiet.
Turning to Sohalia, she huffs, shaking her head as she reaches out to grab her friend’s arm. "Alright, I think we’ve reached our fuck around and find out quota for the evening." She flicks a glance around the clearing, expression annoyed, wary, then leans in conspiratorially, lowering her voice just enough to be smugly defiant: "Unless you wanna stick around and see if a third poem finally gets him to materialize properly so we can punch him in the face?"
Snorting, Flora rolls her shoulders as if physically shaking off the eerie, lingering static. "Come on. We can finish the wine somewhere we’re not being rudely interrupted by a sentient radio signal." She stands, brushing stray bits of moss from her clothes before nudging Sohalia gently but insistently in the direction of literally anywhere else.
