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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!
Her boots cling for purchase, digging into his thighs, but Pierce doesn’t mind. She can’t hurt him. She won’t, with that little boon of becoming a Friend lingering violetly in her mind. So it leaves them to fully enjoy this, Pierce’s movements are easy, working with her to dive in, cutting her off with the gasp that escapes her. A low and breathy chuckle escapes him, hitching at the end as her hips roll against him. “Yeah, I know.” He teases her gently.
Her fingernails dig in and Pierce indulges in the sharp bite of it, offering his own against her neck as they collide again. A shiver of delight races down his spine, her body working to match his with every thrust, his hands maneuvering around her to try and get her closer, head angling up to press a series of kisses and nips to her jaw and ear. Her demand sparks another rumble of a laugh, figuring he might as well give into her after she’d taken the violet thrum so well.
Shifting to hover above her, hands reaching for her legs to adjust her to drive himself deeper, a low moan of delight leaving him as he rocks his hips into hers in more of a relentless movement, no longer giving her the soft moments of collecting herself again before he dives in. This time it’s with purpose, relishing in her touch and the eagerness of her pleasure.
Their movements are symphony and synchrony, the violet push and pull of every movement like the lapping waves that shift the sands of her desire. It draws soft gasps and moans from her that she amplifies just for Pierce, thanking him for the effect he's having on her, for the pressure she feels everywhere. From the deep need in her core to the tightening of her chest to the crackling of her veins to the galaxy building in her skull, Thal basks in it all.
The feel of eyes draws only an inkling of her attention amidst the purple pleasure, her periphery heating and caressing their gazes like hot water trickling down her skin. She doesn't look away from Pierce - doesn't dare - but she angles her head back so they might see the ecstasy pulling at her features, letting them capture the hooded eyes and gasping breaths as he kisses and nips all the right places.
As he adjusts her higher - closer - Thal braces a single hand against the bar, the other wrapping around his shoulders to keep him pressed against her chest. She relishes the pure, incomparable strength that she feels in his fingers, the ones that shift her into the perfect position for him to reach even deeper, filling every thought and nerve with nothing but him and this new connection that floods the entirety of her existence.
Thal matches his increased pace, pressing into his thrusts like they might merge into one if she tries hard enough. Her breaths lose their weight, sacrificing it to the deity that's slowly growing in her core, dense and riotous in its hunger for more. "Yes - Pierce." His name is a reverent prayer on her lips, pleading and indulgent, hissing through her lips as she drags them aimlessly down his cheek, close enough for him to hear every drawn syllable and rasp of her tone. She can feel the way he's giving in, but she wants him to let go. She wants him to set aside the control and devour her. And she tries to tell him with the heat and press of her body, begging and enticing him to ruin her like no one else could.
Oh, he can ruin her. And he intends to at least a little bit with the way she curves against him so perfectly, as she angles herself to match each and every deep thrust he has to offer. Her hand braces against the bar and Pierce utilizes the shift and change to curl in toward her, offering more of the broad expanse of his chest for her to drag her nails across, panting through the low hum of his pleasure.
She’s beautiful like this, he thinks, with the curve of her back and the way her head tilts back, her dark hair a moving river against her pale shoulder, horns a menacing but enticing addition. He knows he’s strong enough to break her if he wanted, but it isn’t his intention. His goal is to indulge her needs, to make it seem as though she’d do whatever she could for him.
It just so happens to fall in line with everything else.
The pounding of his thrusts echoes through the White Hart, a backdrop to those that have stuck around to watch the show. And Pierce seems revitalized for it, keeping one hand hooked around her leg to pull it higher to drive himself deeper, the other offering some support to her back so it doesn’t rub so much against the back of the bar. “Just like that, Thal.” Comes the purr, the craving of her melodic moans blooming brighter in his mind, doing everything he can to drive them out of her.
She doesn't care about how the wood bites into her skin. She doesn't care about the people who are whispering more than they should. She doesn't care about what people will think when they find out about tonight. And Thal sure as hell doesn't care about how desperate she sounds as she moans his name. All she cares about is that tipping point where she glimpses the violent violet depths below, the ones that will batter and bruise her body in all the best ways, dragging her down into the newly unexplored reaches of her pleasure.
He pushes her closer to the brink as he lifts her leg higher, pushing deep enough for her hips to stutter, her fingernails digging harshly for purchase before she resumes with renewed need, greedy for everything he can give. Her skin glistens in the dim lighting, casting a sheen over her face when her fang peeks out to snag against her lower lip. There's a flush there that doesn't even begin to hint at the heat pulsing under her skin, just shy of igniting. It flares at his words, the approval there like gasoline on the fire, lighting it under her ribs and searing into her core like a brand, claiming.
Thal pants around the only words clear in her mind other than his name, "Don't stop." She almost adds a 'please,' but it catches, unfamiliar on her tongue and unnecessary with the unfocused look in her eyes, a brief window to the tempest of a purple firestorm threatening to tear through at any moment.
He thrives with the way she curves against the bar, with the whispers around and voices that remain. All of it, ignored for the favor of the sounds leaving Thal’s throat. His own accompany the mix, low and a rumbling sultry purr, surprisingly gentle compared to how he moves with her and drives her toward her orgasm. It’s exactly this moment that he readjusts her leg, driving himself deeper as pleasure blooms through him, the crest of his own climax on the horizon.
Not unlike the waves of the sea, Pierce aims toward it like a boat with a singular paddle, taking his time if only so he can ensure she gets off first. The don’t stop that reaches his ears is granted, his pace increasing with the buck of his hips against her — because he’d had zero thought of stopping when they were this close. “C’mon,” he purrs breathily.
One hand shifts, cupping the curve of her breast, fingertips brushing against her nipple before he’s pinching it to try and drag more sound from her. His other hand leaves her leg where it is, tucked up against his side, curving inward as he adjusts them slightly to grant space for his hand to slip in. Like a heat seeking missile, his fingertips find her clit, the swirling pace quick just as his thrusts, mirroring to drive her over the edge.
It's a show that none of these people have signed up for, but she bewitches them, nonetheless, riding his every thrust in desperate oblivion. Her control is long gone in that inexplicable desire to be lost in Pierce - to cast aside who she was for this new connection between them, purple flaring to life in the fire of her breaths and the burning in her core.
Thal moans at the heightened pace and the low rumble of his voice in her ear, just as near to release. Her hand slips from its hold on the bar when his attention turns to her chest, slick with the heat of her tingling magic and the heat of the moment. She moves her arm up to his bicep just as he's pinching the hard nub of her nipple. Spine arching, every muscle tightens at the swelling pressure building low in her stomach, stretching the flimsy barrier painfully taut. Her breath thins to a soft whine that's almost a whimper, high with need that he doesn't hesitate to answer. His fingers find the gap in her armor, the final weakness that sends her tumbling over the ledge into the clutches of the dark violet ocean below. The confines of her orgasm shatter in a brilliant flash of blinding lavender that rattles her body, ripping at her consciousness like sharp amethyst claws that leave little more than shreds in their wake.
Her voice cries out in the bar, echoing and pitched high against her throat. Untethered, her soul follows close behind, fleeing to make room for the purple pleasure that fills every drop of her existence. She doesn't miss the burden of thoughts or what little morals she has, too adrift in the overwhelming and exhilarating waves of her climax that send her careening into Pierce. Every part of her holds him captive, desperate for him to feel what he's done to her, how she's come apart at the seams in every stuttering roll of her hips.
Pierce feels it break, like a wave cresting against the edge of a cliff. It hits with a pressure that has him aching with her, utilizing it and her melodic moans that echo and pitch high in the quiet hush of the bar. It drives him crazy, the push and pull of their mutual satisfaction, while Pierce continues to rock out the following strikes and waves of her orgasm. It’s enough to bring him to his own, stuttered and distracted, thrusting into her deep when it finally hits.
A shiver races down his spine alongside the relief, crested over her with the bulk of his body and muscle, clutching her close as his hips twitch and he spills into her, panting against her neck as a glimmer of sweat beads against his skin and through his curls. And only when he’s sure that he can move again without the tingling in his feet and hands, does the brawler lean back a touch, still buried deep, letting his blue gaze scan her face with that very same arrogant smirk, even if it were a touch more breathless.
Even through the drowning haze of her own orgasm, Thal can feel when Pierce joins her, the pulse of desperate thrusts drawing his name from her lips - a coaxing encouragement of his pleasure and a heady approval for filling her so perfectly. She floats in his grasp, only his touch keeping the borders of her mind intact as the confines of her body tingle and spark deliciously. It's only when she's surfacing from the depths of her orgasm - faintly aware that she hasn't drowned in the purple waters despite all the physical symptoms to suggest otherwise - that her hold on him loosens, followed by the smallest of separations.
Her eyes focus enough through the hooding of her lids to take in his gaze, a lazy grin stretching across her face. She releases her hand from his bicep, dragging it appreciatively towards his firm chest to bask in all the sweat, shallow breaths, and pounding heart that speak of his own pleasure. A purring hum gathers as she collects the scattered currents of her thoughts. "Mmm. Maybe it's just been so long, but that felt better than last time." A few words come to mind: overwhelming, addictive, intoxicating, mind-altering. She settles on the simplest description as she lifts her lips to hover over his, the breathy husk of her voice still warm with lust. "You feel better." Her walls tighten around him while she rolls her hips in emphasis, just teasing enough to show Pierce how much she's enjoyed him and how much she'd like to do it again soon.
Smug satisfaction blooms on the brawler’s face, feeling her hand drag away from the swell of his muscled arm to the brawn of his chest. “Yeah?” He asks breathlessly, the crooked grin on his face one that’s sunny as it is cocky and arrogant. She rises and he doesn’t stop her, doesn’t do anything else except for let her get close enough to feel the warmth of her lips when she speaks.
But she pairs it with the teasing tightness that has his breath raking out of him, those arms of brawn lowering to wrap around her and pull her closer, to nip at her ear as he lets his soft laugh bloom against the shell of her ear. “You do too.” He teases in return, nipping at her earlobe before he withdraws back toward the panes of her face, punctuating it with another breath stealing kiss, a confirmation that he, too, would like to do this again if given the chance.
She loves that arrogant look, the one that tells of his pleasure and promises her more. She grins in return, a sharply seductive beast that flickers across her features, fanged and possessive in all the ways that might scare off a lesser man, but Thal knows he can take it. It's why she taps a suggestive finger against his muscled chest and reaffirms her opinion with a bite of her lip. "Yeah. Although I think we might have to do it again just to be sure." In case it had just been a fluke or the lingering crowd of the bar.
An airy whisp of laughter escapes as he pulls her closer, the cadence of her heart singing with the hum of her body pressed to his. There's a lightness to it all, a freeing of burdens that has her head swimming pleasantly in the aftermath of her purple baptism. Only the sound and feel of Pierce fills her, the sensations flaring again as his teeth nip at her ear and his warm breath make her eyes flutter closed. The heady approval is distractedly offered when he draws back, the word "Good" barely past her lips before he's sealing them against his.
Thal loses herself in the kiss, letting it consume her and feed her in a vicious cycle that has her simultaneously feeling full and empty. It's perfect in every way that leaves her wanting more. She arches into him, unable and unwilling to be the first to pull away no matter how much her lungs scream for breath, her mind only concerned with Pierce and every way that they touch.
The low chuckle escapes him as she prods his chest, a knowing look flickering in the blues of his eyes, burning in both violet delight and that of such a human means, he almost shies away from it. But he doesn’t, not with the way he pulls her close as if desiring more, the haze of the post bliss sparking more fire within his bones, allowing it to rest gently in his chest. “Yeah? Might be able to manage that.” He purrs playfully, briefly, before the kiss that he claims.
Like a conquest only he’s managed to steal, to win. A prize, a trophy that scribes his name. It deepens and he presses further against her, keeping her locked in a tight hold of contentness against the bar until he can feel her twitch and tremble with her lungs as they ache and burn. And taking some amount of concession with her, the brawler withdraws, panting softly as he threads his fingers through her dark strands of hair. “C’mon, lets get out of here, huh?” Comes the suggestion, as if he might want to treat her to a more private, intimate affair.
The kiss is everything she needs. Air and breath are suggestions that she doesn't take. She doesn't need them when his lips are on hers, the movement of her tongue writing his name and every other word he's managed to brand in her chest: desire, need, Friend. It's a love song drawn from her mouth, a full-bodied harmony that sings for him even as a scream starts in her lungs.
When he pulls away, she doesn't immediately reach for the breath, her mouth instead reaching for more of Pierce before the instincts of her body take over in a deep, trembling gasp. Her eyes flutter open to meet his gaze, sharp around the satisfied haze that lingers. Thal's voice is darker than the dim bar lighting, sultry despite the breathy filling of her lungs. "I thought you'd never ask." She tips her head into his grasp but still doesn't move, unwilling to separate until he makes the first move, still cataloguing every place where their sweat-slick bodies press together like it's the only thing that matters in the world.
It’s beautiful, the way that she seems to cling to him despite his very strong understanding that she doesn’t need to. That she wants to, in whatever Friendly haze he’s put her in. She was still strong willed beneath it, that much he can tell by the way she teases and fights with him. So when he makes his offer and she remembers how to breathe, the smirk he shoots her way is one vibrant as it is content, thumb stroking her temple just beneath her horns before he nods.
“I’ve got a place not far from here.” Ignoring whatever kind of scene they’d created at the White Hart, the brawler pulls himself from Thal, fixes his clothes enough to walk and helps her get back onto her feet and readjusted enough to swing his arm around her shoulders, keeping her tucked into his side, a knowing nod offered to the barkeep that had to witness everything paired with a sharp grin, before Pierce is guiding Thalassa out of the bar and into the cobblestone streets.
Thal leans into his every touch like it's another hit of an addictive drug, like one more touch might be 'enough,' even as she knows deep down that it'll never be enough. There's no tiring of him. There's no forgetting him. There are no lengths she wouldn't go to just to do it all over again. Perhaps that should scare her, should give her some hint at the violet shift in her allegiance, but she doesn't care when her limbs are wrapped around him like this, their pleasure thick in the air of the occupied bar.
The rest of the world only comes back to her as he pulls away, giving her room to finally catch her breath as she lowers to the ground. She lets every brush of her fingers trail and find excuses to brush against him as she gathers her clothes, only choosing to put on the blouse that hangs scandalously just over her ass. "Taking me home already, hm?" There's a proud edge to her eyes, a sharpness to her grin before she tucks herself comfortably under his arm, her hand reaching up to twine her fingers in his. There's no embarrassment as she shoots the bartender a wink, her tail flicking in a rhythm reminiscent of their show as it disappears out the door.
