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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!
Most of her trip back to Torchline had been filled with a single, very intriguing topic of thought around Asta's recent visit. He hadn't actually told her that much about the guild - what with its 'secret' nature and whatnot - but that only made her more excited to find out for herself.
The moment The Marauder was docked, she left Spook in charge with directions to prep for the coming test. It was another part of her assessment, seeing how well they could prepare for a long journey without her. Should they forget something, Thal wasn't going to fix their mistake, they'd have to deal with it on their own. In some cases, it may be inconvenient for them, in others, deadly.
While they figure out whether they're going to sink or swim in the coming days, Thal makes her way to the Hanged Man, purpose clipping at her heeled boots. It's too early in the day for the bar to be busy, most people sleeping off the night before - or gods forbid, doing their jobs. It makes it that much easier to spot the blonde. Thal approaches to lean against the counter, nodding a little more respectfully than she might have previously, having learned about her surprising status as the guild leader of such an organization. "Flora." She tilts her head as if assessing the woman in a new light, a sharp smile indicating her approval. "Asta sent me. He said you might have a... 'business proposition' for me." The raise of her eyebrows should be enough implication, the flick of her tail and gleam in her eyes the only evidence of her excitement.
Whether I'm gonna curse you out or Take you back to my house
Flora lifts her head from the ledger she'd been absently flipping through, aqua eyes sharpening instantly at the familiar voice, a faint smile twitching onto her lips. "Thalassa," she greets warmly, setting down her pen and leaning casually against the bar. She lets her gaze sweep over the other woman with obvious approval, curiosity glittering bright as sunlight off ocean waves.
She gestures toward one of the empty bar seats with an easy wave of her hand, gold rings catching the perpetual twilight. "Asta mentioned you might drop by," she confirms, voice lowering conspiratorially even though the bar is quiet and empty this time of day. "Though I have to say, I wasn't sure if you actually would." There's an undercurrent of playful challenge in her tone—an unspoken question about just how interested Thalassa might really be.
Leaning forward, Flora rests her chin in the palm of her hand, curls cascading messily down her shoulder, a tiny spark of mischief in her gaze. "And since you're here, I take it you're at least a little curious about what we get up to." A small pause, the slightest arch of a brow. "What has Asta told you so far?"
Thal takes the indicated seat, a low chuckle escaping at her playful challenge. She props her head on her hand, a lazy fanged grin on her face. "That's surprising. I thought I made my enjoyment of danger and dramatics pretty clear." It's casual and laced with a similar teasing that sounds like balancing a knife's edge on the tip of a finger.
A 'little' curious is an understatement, but she doesn't say as much, mirroring Flora as she leans against the counter. There's a mischievous glint in her eyes, one that speaks of years of trouble she's caused all on her own, and how much more she might be able to cause with a little assistance. "Admittedly not much. He mentioned it's called the Thieves Guild, along with its alignment with secrecy and shadows." She doesn't mention her own suspicion of his recent injury being related. Nodding her head, she gives a sharp, knowing smile. "He's good at his job." Even if Flora doesn't see the benefit in letting her in on the fun, she should know that Asta is a valuable asset - if she doesn't already recognize as much.
Whether I'm gonna curse you out or Take you back to my house
Flora’s smirk tugs at one corner of her mouth, sharp as a fishhook, and she shrugs with an easy, dramatic flair. "Well, sure, but tossing daggers in the desert is more fun than, say, fencing items or laundering information." She tilts her head thoughtfully. "Though we do both, for the record. With style."
At the name Thieves Guild, she clicks her tongue softly, raising a finger like she’s about to correct a child stealing cookies. "Mmh—publicly, it’s just the Lost and Found. Bit more charming, bit less indictable." There’s a glitter of amusement in her aqua eyes, but beneath it lies the calculated glint of someone who’s spent her whole life dancing on the line between power and risk.
Leaning forward, she rests her elbows against the counter, letting her gold-ringed fingers tap idly against the wood. "That said—" and here her tone shifts, just a notch more serious "—I trust Asta’s judgement more than most. If he says you're someone I should be paying attention to, then... I’m paying attention." Her gaze lingers on Thalassa with new interest, weighing, measuring.
Thal would argue that both activities can be just as fun, but she just gives Flora a confident grin. "I have some experience with those, although I'm better at making sure people stay silent. The fewer people that know, the more valuable the information, right?" Her grin sharpens with a mix of violence and cunning, making it hard to tell whether she enjoys the blood or coin more. She'd be more surprised if the queen didn't know about her presence in Torchline. Even if she isn't as infamous as Jack, she's certainly caused people trouble.
The chastisement is met with an unbothered tilt of her head as she raises an unimpressed brow, a soft laugh flowing between them. "Subtle." Although she has to admire the woman's skills, her ability to be so duplicitous in her own city, right under everyone's noses. If Thal wasn't so intrigued, she might bother to be intimidated.
She doesn't back down from the assessing gaze - doesn't even flinch - used to being sized up by a variety of formidable foes or lecherous vermin, and immediately proving why their estimation was incorrect. Thal meets her eyes with a steely look, serious despite the playful lilt in her voice. "Just make sure you're watching closely. Blink and you might miss it." The same way Asta had missed her snatching the Dragoon's coin purse, or how the queen had missed her own loss. Whatever the challenge, Thal plans to exceed and excel. Flora just has to give her a chance to prove herself.
Whether I'm gonna curse you out or Take you back to my house
Flora’s gaze narrows, though there’s no real harshness in it—just the glint of a woman who’s been burned before, who’s lost things she wasn’t supposed to, and who isn’t about to make the same mistake again. "Mm," she hums, fingers tapping out a rhythm against the wood like they’re testing the beat of a song only she knows. "You’ve definitely got the vibe down—the silent, stylish, stabby type. Very compelling. Very dangerous." Very demure. Very mindful. Her smirk returns, but it’s slower this time. Sharper. "But this isn’t just about looking good with a blade or knowing when to keep your mouth shut."
She leans in just a little more, enough that her voice lowers without losing its bite. "The Lost and Found isn’t a solo act. It can’t be. We’re a network. We cover each other’s backs. Sometimes that means listening, sometimes that means waiting, and sometimes it means doing shit you don’t necessarily agree with because it's part of the bigger picture." Flora pauses, tilting her head as if reconsidering something, then adds, "And sometimes it means not knifing someone just because they’re annoying."
Her eyes flick over Thalassa’s face again, not doubting her capability—gods, no—but trying to see past it. "So what I need to know is: when the job calls for subtlety, silence, or taking orders instead of giving them... can you do that?"
She listens patiently as Flora lays out the parameters of the guild, her expectations, her 'rules.' Some of them make her want to sneer or scoff, but Thal keeps her expression calm and casual, a nonchalant smile playing across her lips. It might be hard not to go around stabbing idiots, even if she's done it plenty of time. However, the part that bothers her most is the last part: following order.
In recent years, she's been the one giving the orders, and she wouldn't give that up on her own deck, but Thal gives Flora a look of steely certainty formed in years passed. "I wasn't always the captain. It took months of 'subtlety, silence, and taking orders' that got me exactly where I wanted. I know when to call the shots and when to fall in line." She doesn't say 'when it benefits her,' but Thal assumes the queen understands. Her 'loyalty' has to be earned, but her 'obedience' can be bought for the right price. However, Asta knows better than anyone, once her loyalty is earned, she will fight tooth, nail, and claw for them.
Her eyebrow comes up in prodding question, no longer challenging but resigned confidence. "The real question is whether you want me or not." Thal knows her worth, and she won't beg, letting Flora decide if she thinks the benefits outweigh the risks. There's no sign of concern either way, just a curious tilt of her head.
Whether I'm gonna curse you out or Take you back to my house
Flora's eyes narrow slightly—not in suspicion, but with something sharper, more analytical—as she watches Thal speak. The way she holds herself, the easy defiance tempered by practiced restraint, the calculated language laced with implication rather than outright refusal. It's the same brand of pirate charm Jack wore when he wanted something. And gods, Flora always did fall for that type. But she’s not stupid. Her smile, when it comes, is slow and amused and edged in gold.
"I don’t recruit people I don’t want," she replies simply, a hand lifting to spin one of her rings slowly on her finger. "I’m not in the habit of wasting my time just as I assume you aren't in the habit of wasting yours." There’s a beat, her gaze level and glinting, all warm sea and sharp coral. "But—" she adds, voice low and velvet-edged, "—I do like knowing exactly what kind of chaos I’m letting into my home."
She leans forward slightly, elbows still on the counter, fingers steepling loosely. "I believe Asta when he says you’re worth it. And I believe you when you say you know how to take orders. But if you’re looking to climb to the top, this isn’t a ship—it’s a web. And in a web, everyone’s caught together. If one of us goes down? We all do." Her tone sobers for just a moment. "I’m not asking for sainthood. I am asking for discretion, commitment, and the sense to know when not to poke a bear you can’t kill."
Flora tips her head, curls falling forward like golden ribbons. "You in?"
Thal has to respect the woman's bluntness, nodding her head along with the analysis. She's certainly not one to waste time - or a lucrative opportunity. Lucky for Flora, she doesn't want to be at the top of the Thieves Guild, her crew fills her 'babysitting' quota and then some, she doesn't need more people under her thumb. So, she focuses into the other issue, her eyes narrowing to something dark and serious, wiping the smile from her face. "I won't be a squeaky wheel or weak link. If that's what you're worried about, you won't find it here." She pauses, eyes scanning the queen. "I haven't survived this long out of pure luck." That includes learning where she can push said luck.
Her smile only twists forward again at the question, thin and sharp. Thal lets the question linger for a moment, like she just might refuse, even though they both know exactly what her answer will be. When she finally speaks, it's firm and binding, her words a contract amongst her kind. "I'm in." As if she passed some kind of test, Thal is tempted to relax, but she waits, poised for whatever else Flora may have in mind to tell her.
Whether I'm gonna curse you out or Take you back to my house
Flora grins, slow and satisfied, like someone who’s just finished setting the final piece on a very complicated, very expensive gameboard. "Good," she says, voice a smooth purr edged in steel. Without breaking eye contact, she extends her hand across the bar for Thal to take, not just as a formality but as something heavier—like a dare, or a pact. The kind of thing that, in Torchline, meant something.
Once Thal’s hand is in hers, Flora’s rings cool and solid against calloused skin, she gives it a single, decisive shake before tipping her chin toward the side door. "Come on then. Time to see where all the lost things end up."
