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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!
Somehow the Attuned has never crossed paths with the bar in what was essentially her backyard. She’d ventured to many other places within Haulani – the various shops and cafes, even the brothel, but the young woman had never actively gone and scouted out the Hanged Man. Tonight, however, that changes – with nothing else to do and her siblings likely off causing some kind of scene elsewhere – the Attuned makes her way into the bar.
Hair pulled back into a messy bun and a not too thick jacket keeps her warm for the meantime, hiding a golden sundress beneath it as she hops up onto the barstool and orders a mojito, taking in the sights and sounds of a relatively rambunctious group toward the back, arguing over a lost bet.
Calypso
one-sided, it's pathetic how you think you're being smart
It should come as no surprise to anyone that Thal is part of said 'rambunctious group,' her crew whining over how she never lets them win anything. It wasn't her fault most of them had never learned to count over five, or that the cards had been literally stacked in her favor. Okay. Maybe that part was her fault - but they were idiots for failing to catch the cheating. They're pirates. They should know better.
A headache starts to bloom from all their obnoxious voices, and Thal throws back the rest of her bourbon. "Fine. You guys play without me. I need another drink." A few grumble and moan as she leaves, smacking the sore loser upside the head with an annoyed, "Look wha' ya did. This's why Captain ne'er plays wi' us." She doesn't correct them, even as she knows that's not the only reason.
Her heeled leather boots click across the floor as she approaches the barkeep, the confident stride and sway of her hips drawing some attention. She's hard to miss with the dark arching horns, swishing tail, and wild wavy hair that frames her piercing blue eyes, although few risk approaching her when they spot the collection of daggers strapped to her body. That just makes her progress through the bar that much easier, and she sidles up to the bar top, raising her empty glass for a refill as she takes a seat, her focus straying on the growing ruckus of her crew. At least they're having a good time.
Minding her own business – for the most part, at least – Caly pretends to be surprised as the captain approaches. Her amber gaze flits over toward the woman before she looks back toward her drink and the glittering colors of all the bottles on the wall behind the bar, though she can see Thalassa in the reflection of the bottles. Leaning forward to sip from her drink, she fully turns to the woman with a playful smirk on her face.
“So what got ‘em all riled up?” She asks, nodding her blonde head back toward the group that she assumes belonged to the woman at her side. But given how fierce the captain looks, Caly assumes her question will be met with nothing more than annoyance from whatever it was they did that required her to get another drink and let them play a round on their own.
Calypso
one-sided, it's pathetic how you think you're being smart
A voice draws her attention away from the indignant shouts of her crew. Thal turns her head briefly to find the golden grin of a young blonde, a breath of fresh air from the ugly mugs of her sailors - although she'd prefer some handsome brute to spice up her night. Conversation with strangers isn't really her idea of fun.
Shrugging a shoulder, Thal raises her refilled glass to her lips. "They're a bunch of children who hate losing." That should be explanation enough, and she takes a hefty sip of her bourbon, letting it slide down her throat with a familiar warmth. When it's back on the bar top, she rotates the base against the wood, watching as the perpetual dusk catches on the amber liquid. "Sometimes I have to step away so they can feel what it's like to win for once." She flashes the woman a fanged grin, all confidence and authority in her blue gaze.
Little did Thalassa know that the handsome brute she’s been fooling around with is the very golden girl’s brother. But as it stands, Calypso snorts and sips lightly from her mojito, enjoying the refreshing taste of mint amongst the very light air of sweet simple syrup and the clean liquor that hardly has a taste of its own. “Ah, so they’re sore ‘bout it.” She comments idly, shifting to prop her head up on a fist, glancing sidelong toward Thalassa as the young attuned slides her glass forward – already feeling the liquor but feeling like a little bit more couldn’t hurt.
“How kind of ya.” Caly teases, humming a bright laugh to see the confidence and authority in her blue gaze. It doesn’t work on her, and she boldly looks back with a grin of confidence of her own – of Safrin’s own making and her own personal vitality of embodying the sun. “What’re the stakes?” She asks curiously, glancing back toward the table thoughtfully.
Calypso
one-sided, it's pathetic how you think you're being smart
And once Thal hears the woman's name, she might just connect the dots, but for now, the Ancient lives in ignorant bliss of her connection to a particular shadowy demigod.
Scoffing, she flicks her tail. "Sore is the polite way of putting it." Wimps, pussies, butt-hurt imbeciles. She's been through the list of insults, not that it bothers their thick-skulled little brains. They still follow her around like dogs, obediently fulfilling her every order. If she wasn't so annoyingly attached to the lot of them, she'd have tossed them overboard seasons ago (although that still occasionally happens when they forget themselves).
Grinning at the woman's reaction, she gestures to the table as one of the men standing tumbles drunkenly to the ground. She doesn't show the slightest indication of intervening as she says, "Mainly money, although sometimes valuables or ship duties." At least for the others. She might work alongside her men, but she'd never deign to swab a deck again, preferring to spill the blood rather than clean it up after a battle.
Thal looks at the woman from the corner of her eyes, a single eyebrow raised. "You've really never played?" Gambling is a Torchline staple, and she finds it hard to believe that she hasn't been pulled into some sketchy dealings before. She looks gullible enough.
Snorting to see the Ancient flick her tail and answer her politeness, the young attuned looks back toward the table in question as she asks about the stakes, seeing Thalassa’s grin in the corner of her eye. Watching the man take his tumble elicits a snicker from the blonde, her grin brightening as she nods.
Until the question reaches her and Caly rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “I have. I just like t’see what kinda stakes other people play with.” Between her and her siblings when they joined in on games, the ones she has played in the past have been particularly glittery, golden, or sooty. Though she doesn’t mind it one way or another.
Looking back to Thalassa its with a glint in her amber gaze that gives into that faux innocence. “What makes ya think I haven’t?”
Calypso
one-sided, it's pathetic how you think you're being smart
The men burst out in a fit of obnoxiously drunken laughter, a few hitting the table as they see the man sprawled on the floor, his tankard somehow still upright in his hand. One of them reaches out a boot to shove the limp form, earning a low groan that sends them into another clamor of smacks and booming laughter. At least they haven't started singing yet.
Thal takes in the antics like it's just another Monday, not even a glimmer in her eyes to indicate surprise. She looks sidelong at the woman, catching the way her amber eyes look a little too sharp to make the question innocent. It elicits a chuckle from the captain as she lifts her glass to her lips. "The fact that you had to ask." Taking a mouthful of her bourbon, she lets it linger on her tongue before it slips down her throat. Her tongue flicks out to run along her fangs, sparing a glance in the woman's direction as she adds, "Most people who play couldn't care less what the odds are. If you expect to win, you can't worry about what you might lose."
Snorting at the scene that plays out, Caly sips lightly from the mojito for a few more moments before her attention flits back to the Ancient, a brow lifting playfully as she gives her reasoning. And honestly? She snickers to hear the answer, because it was such a good point, but poor Caly had only said she knew how to play, not that she could win.
“Hmmm,” she hums as she purses her painted lips, head tilting as a blonde strand falls away from her face, showing the star tattoo under her gaze. “Well, can’t say I’ve won all that often so I like t’know what I’ll win or lose.” She admits with an airy laugh and a shake of her head. “Sometimes it ain’t so bad to lose, depends on the stakes.” She shrugs casually.
Calypso
one-sided, it's pathetic how you think you're being smart
'Losing' isn't something Thal likes to do - as anyone who knows her will quickly reveal. It's uncomfortably close to showing weakness, to being weak, and she refuses to toe that line. Even if she has to steal, cheat, or kill, she'd result to any means that put her on the winning side. That's why the woman's response elicits a low, melodic chuckle. "I'll have to take your word for it."
Thal takes another slow sip of her bourbon, catching the peculiar glint of a star against the golden beauty's cheek. It's suspiciously familiar, and her blue gaze lingers for a moment longer than before, curious. She looks casually away again as her crew props the drunk man against the table leg, balancing empty tankards on his head. "Why don't we play a little game of our own?" When she turns back, her smile is sharp and full of mischief. "You can even set the stakes."
Snickering to herself slightly, the young woman raises a brow toward Thalassa with amusement brightly in her face – reflecting in the honey amber of her eyes. “Guess you’ve only lost with shitty stakes, huh?” She probes playfully, bouncing her brows before she finishes the last of the mojito and sits back, running a hand through the blonde waves when Thal makes her suggestion.
It has her facing her a little more fully, legs swinging slightly on the stool as she settles in and tilts her head. “Temptin’. What kinda game were you hopin’ for?” Something tells her it probably isn’t what her crew was playing, but something between them. A just us girls kind of situation, which, honestly? Calypso’s intrigued and matches Thalassa’s own sharp smile with an innocently sunny and mischievous one of her own.
Calypso
one-sided, it's pathetic how you think you're being smart
Thal throws back the rest of her cheap bourbon, not even starting to feel the liquor touch her senses as she summons the bartender for another with a nod of her head. She doesn't look at the woman as she answers, her tone confidently nonchalant. "I don't lose unless it's in my best interest, so no." Perhaps others would see it as stubbornness, but she saw it as good business.
Finally deigning to take a seat rather than continue propping against the bar, Thal accepts her refilled glass and flashes her new companion a cunning grin. "A betting game." It's intentionally vague, leaving anything and everything on the table, a playful opportunity for creativity. "For example," she raises her glass to indicate her crew across the bar, "I bet they'll start singing in the next five minutes." Thal can already see a few of them starting to sway, their laughter turning less intentional in their inebriated states. Knowing her crew, it won't be long.
The buzz of liquor in her system has Caly snickering to her Thalassa’s answer, giving the woman a playfully cunning smile. “You’re clever, aren’t ya?” She asks, raising a brow playfully before she swings a little in her seat to help let the Ancient join her, while also able to twist and look to the group that she gestures to.
The bet in question causes a groan to leave Caly, her amber gaze warm as it slides back to the Ancient. “Ain’t too fair if ya know ‘em.” Which, as far as the young attuned can tell, Thal knows them very well. “I… bet that you’re gonna be right.” Winking the eye with the star underneath it, Caly snickers to herself because she knows that isn’t really a good answer.
Contemplating for a few moments as she gauges the sun from where it’s presently at, she smirks to Thalassa. “I bet that merchant with a fat round face that smells like leather –” she pauses, very minutely jutting her chin to the man in question currently eyeing up Thalassa’s crew, “– will complain immediately to the bartender if they do.”
Calypso
one-sided, it's pathetic how you think you're being smart
In answer to the woman's question, Thal gives her a cheeky grin, knowing full well that she has a sharp mind, even if it's nice to hear the subtle compliment from time to time. Her smile turns crooked as she takes a slow sip of her bourbon, her words nearly as sweet as the alcohol on her tongue. "I never said anything about 'fair.'" Because what kind of pirate captain would she be if she left it all to chance and probability?
The woman's first answer earns her a scoff and an exasperated glance. However, as she follows the jut of her chin, she spots a familiar face across the way. 'Smells like leather' is an apt description of the merchant who frequents the bar, considering he tans and sells hides. If she recalls correctly (and she usually dose), the man often storms out once the singing starts, but not before he yells some choice words in their direction.
Thal smiles knowingly, uncaring whether the woman knows that she's messed up. "I'll take you on that bet." Turning back to meet the sunny lady, she lifts her glass to tilt it in her direction. "I'll even let you decide what we're playing for." It's not a game without stakes, and they have a few more minutes until the singing starts.
