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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!
Everest emerges from the back hallway of the Hanged Man with damp hands and sleeves rolled precisely halfway up his forearms. The door clicks shut behind him with a sound that’s too sharp for the bar’s dusky atmosphere, and he pauses in the threshold, gaze sweeping across the room.
The world here is loud—visually, aurally, socially. Lanterns swing in a rhythm he doesn’t quite like, and conversations stack over one another like badly shuffled cards. There’s too much to parse all at once, too many colours layered over scents, over sound, over glitter.
So he recalibrates.
Chin angled slightly down, he starts a careful path toward the open-walled edge of the bar. The warmth outside will be unpleasant—he knows that—but not nearly as overstimulating as the shifting press of bodies. He’s halfway across the floor when a glittering blur catches the edge of his vision.
Her hair catches the lantern-light like seafoam, and she looks relaxed in her seat, drink in hand. Not part of the noise, but not apart from it either. For just a moment, the crowd stills enough that it would be easy to walk over. A few strides, a hello, a conversation that might not even feel impossible.
Ever shifts direction without fanfare, but before he can take two full steps, he notices Remi and Ronin approaching.
They're already heading her way, drawn through the party like moons orbiting the same star. The moment narrows—Ever pauses, recalibrating mid-motion. It’s not jealousy or nerves exactly, just the sudden reappearance of an obstacle he hadn't accounted for. He stops neatly where he is and raises a hand in greeting, fingers parted, palm turned toward Isla in a simple, quiet hello. The smile that tugs at his mouth is faint but real.
And then he just… lingers. Not quite retreating, not quite advancing, standing in the lull between songs amidst dancers and sea-bright laughter. His shoulders square automatically to make room in the flow of bodies. His hands twitch once—an aborted adjustment of his cuffs—before returning to stillness. Decision no longer pressing, he finds himself a little unsure of where to go next.
the boards will still creak the leaves will still die
He watches the enthusiastic twirl of Flora’s dress with a bit of glee and appreciation. He doesn’t want to take all of her attention, however, not as he searches for drinks to catch up to Danta’s already downed amount. So much so that while he’s snagging another shot from a passing tray, he knocks it back as Danta faces him and he can see over his lover’s shoulder as Maea approaches.
His tail has otherwise been an easy weave at his heels, but it flicks sharper and sharper, jagged and crooked even with the soft warm press of Danta’s hand against his chest and the arm he can feel around his waist. The smile glued to his face twists sharper, darker, masked immediately upon hearing her apology only barely above the music of the band. A keening sound remains, however, a droning pitch that accompanies the brief hiss of breath that escapes his lips.
Interrupted by the way Danta leans in to murmur in his jeweled ear, the twitch of his fingers at his hip, the graze of his teeth against the soft skin beneath his lobe. His smile feathers, wavers for a fraction as his dark eyes focuses on Maea. The Maverick is right, though, as he usually was, but it doesn’t stop the wild flash of his ashen tipped tail as Maea’s words rebound in his mind.
He opts for not ruining Flora’s night. And so, the butcher reinvigorates that grin on his face with a new flare, a step back that tugs Danta with him as his arm snugly slips around the Theocrat’s middle, where his shadow casts on the Maverick's back begin to warble with movement like it has a mind of its own. “If I recall correctly, it was to be my choice to reach out to you to.. mm, hear your apology, no?” He begins, not giving her a moment to respond (and if she does, he intends to cut her off). “This is neither my choice nor the appropriate time to indulge you just so that you may enjoy the event.” Sharp teeth flash with the dismissal and complete avoidance of acknowledging her apology, twisting instead to utilize his hold on the Maverick and the liquor already burning through his veins to twist them around toward the darker crevices of the party for the moment to cool off lest he truly ruin Flora’s night.
05-04-2025, 02:14 PM (This post was last modified: 05-04-2025, 02:24 PM by Kaisel.)
the rumpus and ruckus are comfortable now
Kaisel bursts through the door with a loud "FLOOOOO-ROOOOOOO" of greeting. As noon abruptly slips to dusk he slides his shades into his hair, glancing around for the woman of the hour. He had to stop by and raid her house first, her actual house not the floating one, because he decided that she has too much shit already so the last thing she needs is a tangible gift. What he could do though is gift her with his presence (the best gift of all), and honor her by going as her.
He found a pair of his old jeans and after some knife work turned them into skimpy jorts, though they might not pass her standards since they still cover almost all of his ass cheeks, which is assuredly too long to suit her style but it's as close as he's going to get. He purchased a blonde wig on his way into Torchline, which currently sits a tad askew beneath his sunglasses, and will likely make its way off his head before the night is over because it's hot. From her wardrobe, pilfered as it is, he found a sequined bikini top that seemed to have very minimal fabric and far too many straps. It covered his nipples, which is all he needs, but the rest looks like a lattice work of ties around his arms and neck and somehow there's a loose strand trailing after him as he moves, unbound despite the over-tying elsewhere. He's still got his own sandals on though, because heels felt like a busted lip waiting to happen, sorry Flora.
He spots Flora among the crowd and strides towards her with outstretched arms and a beaming smile. He moves to sweep her up into a bear hug, to spin her around once with a laugh and then set her free. This night is to celebrate even if the truth of it is much bleaker. Over the corner of her shoulder a flash of gold behind the bar catches his eye as Calypso works. Kaisel knows he can't soak up all of Flora's time tonight, and grabbing a drink is definitely high on his list next.
Kaisel
everybody come hang, let's go out with a bang
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
One of the Mer half-submerged at the seaside bar was a broad-shouldered specimen likely familiar to most of those who came to celebrate their Queen's party in spite of the reason for it rather than because of it. He was disinclined towards crying, but neither was the Tidebreaker in a particularly celebratory mood tonight, knowing what the morning would bring.
Nevertheless, at Flora's request he had made an effort to lighten the stoic lines of his expression into a gentler mien, and his sparkling cocktail was already half-empty. He had even tucked the little umbrella that it had come with behind his ear, the cerulean blue set off nicely by the loose waves of his metallic-steel hair.
A small box rested beside his cocktail, but he was content to wait while he watched Flora dance through her many friends and admirers, a flower in full bloom among a swirl of brightly-clad butterflies. Emerald eyes caught sight of others that he knew. Friends, or leaders, or simply acquaintances, but he called out to none of them at the moment. It was enough to be there, to support his co-ruler, and to watch the fascinating interactions playing out in the ebb and flow of bodies and relationships as constantly changing as the sea.
why icarus thought he'd find his place a little higher
Vesper at her side makes for easy work – the two of them working perfectly in tandem even as she takes a moment or two to offer her own additions to the party in terms of its threats and jokes. Of course, though, her distraction comes in the form of her brother’s voice, snaking out toward a particular firestorm of a man that Caly seems to register as walking kaleidoscope from her and her brother’s previous conversations, and she feels relatively satisfied that she’s correct in assuming that this is theMateo.
The drink is crafted easily and slid toward her, and she snags it to offer a finishing touch of a garnish before she’s handing it to Mateo with a brilliant sunny grin. “I’ve already come equipped with the gold, so ‘m good on the rethinkin’.” She teases both her brother and Mateo, tipping her chin toward him as the drink is slid toward him before her eyes catch sight of a new, unfamiliar man who meets her gaze, dressed in his own interpretation of Flora.
“C’mere babe, what’re ya lookin’ for?” She asks, beckoning Kaisel over with her sunshine smile and golden charm, rinsing out the mixing tins to start anew.
The kiss to my cheek startles me—but in a good way. I let out a soft laugh, a little breathless with relief. Her warmth is magnetic in a way I’m still getting used to, like stepping into the sun after a long shadowed walk. Some of the tension I’ve been carrying since I walked through the door eases, just slightly, under her presence.
"Of course I came," I say, with a smile that tilts just shy of dry. I shift the rolled-up paper from one hand to the other, trying not to fidget. "Though if it weren’t so hot, I did consider showing up in my travel jacket just to feel like myself. This whole… breeze-on-my-stomach thing is new."
I glance down at the wrapped skirt and the sandals, like they belong to someone braver. I’ve spent so long bundled in layers, traveling with everything I owned strapped to my back, that the sudden lightness feels like exposure. Like being a peeled fruit in a room full of knives. Doesn’t help that being this old is brand new. "I used to think I dressed normal. Now I’m starting to wonder if I’ve secretly been an old man in disguise."
But Flora makes it easy. Being near her, I feel less out of place—less like a stray guest who slipped into the wrong gathering and more like someone who was invited on purpose.
"I brought something," I say, cutting off the next spiral before it starts. I hold out the rolled parchment. "From when we met. She was showing off in the trees, flaring her wings like she knew I’d end up trying to capture the moment eventually." I glance down, cheeks a little warm now. "Didn’t expect it to turn into a gift, but… I couldn’t stop thinking about it."
I put on a smirk and keep it light. "If it’s too much—too soon or too personal or just bad art—you can pretend you love it and throw it away after I leave. I promise not to dig through the trash to check.”
Darling, you never could scare me Set me ablaze like you do
Remi steps into the Hanged Man behind Ronin, the dusky light catching on the sheen of his curls and the quiet mischief already tugging at the corner of his mouth. His gaze sweeps the room—glittering cocktails, glistening skin, the press of bodies and music and LongHeat indulgence thick in the air—and when Ronin murmurs his little reminder, the Bastion snorts under his breath.
"Mmm. I remember the wall being sturdier than I think either of us expected," he murmurs back, the mental image as vivid as ever—Ronin's back against the sun-warmed wood, Remi's mouth on his throat, their pleas biting into each other’s skin between gasps and curses. His fingers drift against Ronin’s lower back for the briefest moment, then fall away as the crowd surges around them.
He lifts his hand to Flora as she passes by in a blur of fire-red heels and queenly purpose. She’s radiant and commanding and absolutely in her element, and he doesn’t try to catch her attention now—no point getting in the way of a storm in full swing. She’d come to them when she wanted. A second wave goes to Mateo, eyes crinkling with paternal fondness even if his son is already deep in whatever animated tale he’s spinning. And then, content to drift in Ronin’s wake, Remi lets himself be guided toward Isla ’s table, his hand ghosting along the small of Ronin’s back as they go.
"Mind if we crash the no-heartbreak table?" he wonders, grinning at the Remedy.
I'd walk over coals in my bare feet
If that gets me closer to you
Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Quietly enjoying her drink, Isla glances up as the door opens once again and Ronin and Remi enter the Hanged Man, her eyes lighting up at their familiar faces. She's already kicking out chairs for them as the Knight begins to saunter over, and her hand is extended to welcome them both to the no-heartbreak table in the no-heartbreak bar when oop, there goes her heart anyway.
Of all the places she might have expected to see Everest Hart - in Torchline or anywhere else, in fact - right here is not one of them. The noise, the heat and press of the growing crowd, the chaotic weave of servers bearing trays of drinks with obnoxious scents and hues, the glitter; it's a lot for any one, let alone Ever. But to spot him there, just a few feet away, waving a quiet hello with a smile on his lips that doesn't secretly scream for help...?
"I'm so sorry - excuse me," she mumbles to the Taliesins with an apologetic smile, raising her hand back to wave to Everest as if to make sure the aviator doesn't suddenly go anywhere. Sidling out from the table and stepping gracefully (i.e. soberly) around the people in her way, she finds herself before him without really knowing what to do next.
"Hi," she tries for a start, putting on a tentative smile. "I didn't think you would come so a party like this."
we're gonna separate ourselves tonight we're always running scared but holding knives
Sohalia wasn't late, exactly, because she'd been in the back room the whole time, mentally preparing herself for a party that Koa might or might not show up to and that she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to be at, herself. But this was Flora's big last hurrah, and gods be damned if she was going to miss something so important for her best friend. So once enough people had arrived that she could ostensibly blend in, she grabbed a tray of snacks in each hand and made her way into the bar proper.
Flora was, understandably, the life of the party, and currently surrounded by admirers. Soh drifted over, setting out snacks where she could, and by the time she made it to the Doubletake's side, her hands were empty. She snagged her friend's arm with her own, squeezing it affectionately. "This is great, Flora!" she said, her smile genuine and heartfelt. "Let me know if you need me to get anything, okay?"
And then she disappeared into the crowd.
She knew more people than she'd thought she might, and offered a friendly smile and a wave to Maea, Mateo, Melita, Ronin, Everest, Kaisel, Theea, and Hadama - though the latter she hadn't spoken to since that day she'd delivered Flora's letter, and she was no longer sure of her reception. Then she grabbed a drink and took up a seat at the bar, leaning against the counter to people watch.
We are shining And we will never be afraid again
Minor powerplay allowed without permission.
Feel free to use force/magic on Sohalia.
Right. She had indeed said that. Then the great silence had commenced, and her sudden change of heart, and now she seemed to be doing it all over again; blundering in with all intent and no skill. Heat flooded Maea's cheeks as the dismissal sank in. While Astaroth and Dantalion left to find a table, she bowed mutely after their backs, acknowledging her overstep; turning away to distance herself from them, her feet took her towards the bar like a sleepwalker, trying and failing not to take Asta's words to heart.
No heartbreak, was the rule of the event, right? She'd have to drink to that. "Got anything tart?" she asked of Vesper, as she slipped in to lean against the counter heedless of her sleeves soaking up spilled droplets, glitter and sweat from other customers. The surprise of seeing him here was fleeting; half the region was present, so why not this guy, too. "The bitterer, the better." After that penance, maybe she'd try something sweet, the deceptively strong kind of drink that'd make her forget about mistakes and consequences and maybe accidentally have some fun. How's that for a change?
Smiling back at Sohalia, Maea's gaze trailed out across the milling crowd, searching for Liam, finding Hadama and offering a slight wave, gliding over faces of strangers and acquaintances both before eventually returning her attention to the bar and awaiting solace.
'Pfffft, we dress like this because of the weather. We keep dressing like this because of the cocktails." The queen declares with a laugh. But then Flora’s chest tightens as she takes the parchment, fingers brushing Theea ’s in the exchange. She unfurls it gently, eyes lighting up at every delicate line of Spice’s wings. "This is...incredible," she breathes, pressing the sketch to her heart. "Thank you. I promise it’s staying on my shelf, not the trash." With a grin, she tucks the drawing into her back pocket, before gesturing toward the bar. "You go get a drink, and then I'll introduce you around, okay?"
Flora spins and bursts into delighted laughter as Melita plonks down her army of rubber ducks. "Oh my gods, these are perfect!" She scoops up the little Doubletake duck first, pressing it to her cheek. "I’ve always wanted me own, especially after seeing them all over the Ark," she teases, then lines them along the edge of the counter like honorary bartenders.
Before she can do anything more, Kaisel crashes through the doorway with his trademark roa of her name, sending ripples through the crowd. He’s elbow-deep in sequins and straps, and every bit as ridiculous as she dared hope. Flora’s eyes light up as he barrels toward her and sweeps her into a bear hug, her heels lifting off the ground as he spins her. She laughs into his shoulder, reaching up to straighten his wig as he sets her down. "Gods, it looks like everyone is trying to upstage my outfit tonight," she hums, her voice honeyed thanks to a handful of cocktails. "You're missing just onnnnnnne thing." Not needing to stand on her toes thanks to the height of her heels, she places her palms on his cheeks in order to fish-out his lips, before pressing hers against them to transfer some of her red lipstick over. It wasn't a kiss so much as a makeup application, albeit one that would taste of sugared cherries and rum. "There! Perrrrfecct!"
Spying Sohalia hovering by the bar, Flora slips free and drifts over, wrapping an arm through hers. "Hey, lovely," she murmurs, voice warm. "You can hide in the backroom all you want, okay?" She gives Soh’s hand a squeeze. "But at least try and have fun, okay? Maybe save time for a dance with me?"
Glass in hand, Flora’s eyes flick across the room in time to catch Maea peeling away from a conversation with Dantalion and Astaroth —her expression unreadable in that frustratingly Maea sort of way. Intrigued, and perhaps a lot nosy, Flora sets her sights on the pair left in her wake. She crosses the floor with a sway in her hips and a knowing smirk curling her lips, her heels clicking softly against the wood. "Alright, what was that?" she asks brightly, sliding in beside them and propping an elbow on Danta's shoulder like she owns the place (which, for tonight, she does). "You two looked like you just walked out of a drama novel and I want the entire chapter."
Having claimed a portion of the counter for herself, Nova sits propped behind the bar. She sips something fruity Calypso made her, wiggling with every sweet taste as she watches her siblings. More of a 'pour with your heart' kind of person, she hadn't picked up any of the drink recipes, instead designating herself as 'aesthetics manager.'
Each time a drink is set on the counter, she gives it her own touch of pizzazz, using her air magic to pull from an assortment of bowls and containers. If it's a colorful or fruity drink, she adds a healthy dose of glitter that shifts and sparkles in the liquid, maybe even a cute umbrella if the drink calls for it. All the other drinks get a few flecks of gold flakes that float and shimmer on the top, and maybe a sugar crusted cherry if it fits.
It's almost as bright as her dress. Just like her sister, she's wearing gold, but hers holds an iridescent undertone of rainbow hues that shift with her movements. Humming a little to the music, she shoots Vesper a wink and takes another sip of her drink before flicking a wrist to add her flare to the drinks he sets out for the guests. She doesn't miss the man with the gold coin shirt, giggling like a school girl as he approaches her brother.
Sohalia waved, and Hadama did not wave back. He met her gaze, his expression unchanging. Unreadable. This was Flora's party, after all, and it was neither the time nor the place for any drama not sanctioned by the Doubletake herself. He turned away, and it was then that Maea's wave drew his attention.
A small greeting, but given what had just transpired between her and the leader(s?) of the Hollowed Grounds he hesitated for a long moment and a sip of his own drink before shifting away from the bar - glass in hand - and drifting closer. He worked his way around other Merfolk chatting amiably with each other and the humans across the counter until he was as close as he could be to the pale woman and still be in the sea before he raised his voice - and his glass - for her attention.
The front door of the bar may have been where the party was at, but the back door was where the extra booze arrived, and that's where Tal was. He had been unloading the last cart from the Peregrine's hold, having brought floral liquors from the Greatwood, Halovian whisky and vodka, and wine and brandy from King's End. At least he was looking dapper in his striped Vest, and in spite of the heat he was looking cool as a cucumber in his Frostbite Cuffs, gleaming dully beneath the rolled-up sleeves of his pink shirt.
He paused in the backroom to make sure his hair was still pulled neatly back in its little tail and he made an effort to try and smile before he slipped out into the rest of the party. The crowd immediately had him twitching, fingers flexing and starting to tap at his thigh as the smile became something more of a frozen rictus when the wave of sound and laughter crashed over him, but he didn't retreat. He had a mission to accomplish first, and he looked around for wherever the center of activity was swirling the brightest and loudest, figuring he'd find Flora there.
But first his attention caught on the familiar form of Sohalia by the bar and he made an ungraceful dive in her direction, eyes lighting up. He unceremoniously slid into the seat beside her just before a muscley sailor could and was lucky the man didn't sit on him by accident, but with a huffed laugh of annoyance the bigger fellow shrugged and moved a few seats down.
