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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!
Zavien pretended to seriously consider the suggestion, although the smile on his face already gave away his opinion on the matter. "I get the strange feeling that Colt would laugh at me the entire time..." She seemed like the kind of woman who lived life on the edge, finding humor in those who were unnecessarily cautious, and wearing a helmet while herding cattle felt like a little much.
He glanced back down at his poorly executed cloak when Lena gave her answer, feeling somewhat stupid for having asked. "That's fair." Of course it depended on the person as well as the animal. Maybe he just thought it would be different since he couldn't ask them himself, but it was clear that it wasn't something other people thought about, and Zavien let the topic drop.
Tying off the end of his thread, he set it aside with a small, embarrassed smile. "I think mine is pretty much done. Should we start on the masks?" Although he already knew that his would be a strip of cloth with two holes cut in it.
let no one ever come to you without leaving happier.
Lena’s brow arched further, head coming up at the indication that he’d prefer recklessness over potential derision – which she’d probably already known, but given everything that had occurred, she swallowed down a deep sigh. “I would hate for you to get hurt simply because someone might laugh at you.” In the end, he was going to make a decision one way or another, but head wounds weren’t something to be messed with, even if she did have some healing portions –
Holding up her robes instead of fettering herself into some new panic, she shook them out twice, trying to find where any seams were out of place. When it seemed fine, she folded it up nicely, then placed it near Zavien’s for later. “Ooh, yes, masks.” She went towards her bag, fishing out some more white cloth, gaze flickering back to him, granting a small smile as her mind began to conjure potentials. “What were you thinking for the design? Completely Ludo-esque or something a little different?”
Propping his elbow on the table, his eyes glittered a little at the concern. "Not that I'm anywhere near the rider she is, but if Colt's not wearing a helmet, I'm probably safe to go without one. I've got a pretty thick skull, after all." He tilted his head, knocking a fist against his skull to make a playful thunk sound that had him grinning at her.
Then she was flitting away to gather more supplies, his eyes widening at the question as he wondered what she meant by 'design.' "Uuuh. I was thinking about a strip of black cloth with two eye holes." That was as far as he'd gotten, but as he looked at the white fabric and the glint in her brown eyes, Zavien raised a curious eyebrow. "Why? What were you thinking?"
let no one ever come to you without leaving happier.
07-14-2025, 04:26 PM (This post was last modified: 07-15-2025, 01:56 PM by Lena.)
// think of the sun that shaped them //
“That argument makes no sense,” she winked in response, blunt and to the point, mostly to let him know she wasn’t going to let him get away with such a senseless disregard for his own health, and justifying it with someone else’s equal lack of rational notions. Sighing, she shook her head, keeping multitudes behind her teeth. He was his own person, and would make his own choices, but given everything they'd already been through the past year...she let it fade with a particular arch to her brow - much like the age-old quips of 'what if everyone jumped off the bridge'.
As for his creative skills with the mask, she snagged at a piece of paper, and began drawing portions out. “Well, maybe some things like this,” she hummed, beginning to outline several with different designs for the eyes or more whimsical nature and décor underneath – embellished portions for fun or to stand out from a crowd of well, potentially strips of black cloth and two eye holes. “Like any of those?” She slid the paper over to him, as well as the charcoal, in case those seemed to buzz anything in his mind.
Zavien shrugged his shoulders to dismiss whatever arguments did or didn't make sense. Lena still seemed hesitant, and he did his best to give her a reassuring smile. "I'm sure it'll be fine. Even if I fall, I've got my new healing ring, remember? And anything more major than that, I can call on a spirit or deity to patch me up. I promise I won't come home covered in bandages." He didn't comment on the fact that he didn't have bandages on the last time.
Instead, he looked down at the pictures she'd drawn, still impressed by her artistic skills. "Geez. These look great, Lena." Not that he could pull any of them off, but he supposed it couldn't get any worse if he tried, so he pointed to one of the simpler designs: a thin black mask with small cutouts that resemble leaves. It wouldn't involve sewing or complex fabric maneuvering. All he'd have to do was make a few well-placed cuts.
Nodding, he said, "I'll try this one." Then his eyes moved back up to meet her gaze. "Which one are you doing?"
let no one ever come to you without leaving happier.
She left the “just come home” part to herself, before nudging a smile back upon her features, smothering multitudes for the sake of keeping the peace. “Fine. But then I hope you have many stories to share.”
There was more to be done on the costume front anyway – so she waited for either approval or dissent. When he pointed to the leaf one, she nodded, snagging at a pair of fabric scissors and passing them over to him. “Could be like when kids make those paper snowflakes,” and she winked again, figuring that might set a better tone.
As for her own, she perused the remaining options. “Maybe I’ll try for some designs by the eyes, like these,” pointing to one with light designs meant to signify will-o-wisps and tiny hints of embers, flames. “Though perhaps I’ll draw them out on the cloth first,” that way it’d be far easier to cut through, and she turned her head downward, already beginning to start the outline in charcoal.
His smile softened a little, soothing around the mix of nerves and excitement. "I'll do my best." Even if he fell flat on his face, at least he'd have a story to share - or a cautionary tale. Either way, Zavien wouldn't let fear of injury keep him from helping others. He'd lived in fear for months and had hated every second of it. He refused to be like that again.
Laughing at Lena's wink, he accepted the scissors and subsequent approval. "Thank you for that comparison." Although the kids would probable do a better job. Still, he looked at her picture, trying to figure out the best place to cut as he maneuvered the fabric. When her finger hovered over the image that looked somewhat like flames and embers, Zavien gave her a warm smile. "I'm sure it'll look great no matter how you go about doing it."
let no one ever come to you without leaving happier.
She glanced at the way he went for it – always, at the very least, brave for trying anything and everything. That was something to be admired, in the quiet corners of her apprehensive and cautious mind; because at least he had the pluck, the nerve, and the determination to settle for whatever was to come next. Regardless of mistakes or risk or possibilities. That was one thing Lena’s childhood had never taught her – perfection was expected, and the in between wasn’t what mattered.
But she’d learned, head down, choices made, to grin and bear it. “We’ll see,” on a whim and a laugh, steadying her fixtures and fingers as the charcoal moved across the fabric, only catching sometimes when she hadn’t put enough pressure on the cloth. Wiping it away with a digit, she persisted and continued, concentrating until they were done, and large enough to cut. “There. Now I’ll just keep going, mm,” she held up for display, and then snagged at her own scissors, laying out some more bait and amusement. “What if the designer of the best looking costume gets to pick the next dinner?”
Zavien watched her work for a moment, admiring the confident strokes across the cloth and the images that began to take shape. His laughter was warm like the sunlight streaming through the windows, falling between them like golden Leafchange leaves drifting from the canopy above. He smiled, nodding his head as he gave his agreement. "Deal."
Turning back to his own mask (like he even had a chance), Zavien tilted the fabric and angled the scissors to make a precise cut that looked anything but. "Who's going to determine the winner?" He grinned as he asked the question, then straightened out the material to see that his cut had made a very poor looking leaf, a small frown showing his displeasure with the outcome even as he shrugged his shoulders and moved to make the next cut.
let no one ever come to you without leaving happier.
Beginning to cut along her bold, charcoaled lines, Lena took her time, careful and scrupulous, detailed and attentive. The vigilance paid off on the first slashes of the scissors, able to peel away the fabric to show the little embedded and embossed portions of makeshift embers and flames. Pleased with this, she persisted, eyes narrowing as if lives were on the line, instead of a dinner choice.
As for the question, she snickered. “We’ll certainly need someone impartial.” Unfortunately, no one else was actually around to give said opinion, unless they bothered and harassed someone nearby on the streets. “How about Mittens?” She winked again, uncertain if the snowball could really be labeled as unbiased or detached, wrinkling her nose before returning to the cloth, driven to win.
His head nodded along, a 'serious' expression on his face as he agreed that their high-stakes competition required an unbiased judge, but it was hard to hide the amused curve of his lips, the green of his eyes too bright to be upset with whatever outcome came about. Although her suggestion of a judge had his eyebrows raising, glancing towards the abominable snowball nearby, subsequently brushing over Sol as the dragon opened a lazy eye in their direction, still basking in his patch of sunlight.
Snipping another small spot in his mask, Zavien chuckled before schooling his features into something more playfully solemn and considering with a nod of his head. "As long as Mittens can put aside his dislike of me." Their prolonged exposure to each other was certainly helpful, but Zavien didn't miss the grumbles and the companion's general avoidance of him.
let no one ever come to you without leaving happier.
Mittens, unaware of scrutiny upon its entity, had taken it upon itself to begin whistling and rotating about in a forward roll, somersaulting occasionally and hovering through the air, wholly unbothered by any eyes upon it. Hiding a snort, Lena glanced at her companion before shaking her head and trying not to laugh; because while the bonded was certainly different and unique, it had its own source of amusements.
Taking another small cut and inspecting again, the Caretaker hadn’t expected the statement, immediately ready to defend several honors. “I don’t think it dislikes you,” but upon studying it, she found she didn’t quite have the right answer – or know well enough. Mittens kept its gloves tight to its…chest. “It’s hard to tell. Very broad emotions. And they’re usually frenzied.” Or generally enraged. And it didn't take much.
As Lena spoke, Zavien finished off the last few cuts to make his mask and the 'leaves' around the eyes. He raised his brows at the companion, watching as it rolled and whistled to entertain itself. It was better than the hissing, growling, and screaming that it sometimes preferred, so he couldn't really complain.
Shrugging his shoulders, he adjusted the costume that he'd been discretely putting on. "Well, I just hope it can put aside any biases when judging this very close competition." With a flourish, he made a big reveal of his outfit, spinning in a fluttering of fabric with a stupid grin on his face. There was barely any shape, more of a cloak and mask than robes, but no one could deny that he'd tried and wasn't that the whole purpose?
let no one ever come to you without leaving happier.
Finishing up on her end as well, Lena put some finishing touches on the mask, then held it up to inspect once more. She figured if need be, she could always adjust it after putting it on, trying it out, and seeing what worked, so as Zavien put on his last portions, she placed hers on as well. She was content with the arrangement, especially the pockets within the robes, and wondered if she could make the hem more like a dress, but otherwise, grinned from underneath the disguise and veil.
“All right Mittens, make your choice!” She pronounced – barely containing her giggle and mirth as the snowball peered at them, and meandered over. Appearance wise, the companion seemed to be taking the segment of judging very seriously – stone eyes peering over each individual, gaze narrowing as it seemed to be discerning something.
In reality, it was sniffing out who had the most treats nearby – and perhaps in a strange show of surprising results – ventured towards Zavien, screeching at him (for food). “Oh, a winner!” Lena winked from her current threshold, shaking her head as her bonded’s thoughts kept coming over (essentially, getting more portions of food than the dragon). Putting on a more announcer-type voice, she cupped her hands around her mouth. “As noted, our illustrious and favored designer gets to pick the dinner! What shall it be?”
