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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!
"Do not be too disheartened," Niki assures Flora with a warm smile. "Baseline amusement is more than most people get." He glances back at the hood he's created as she surveys it, nodding his approval at her judgement. "I feel as though, when it comes to a Ludo masquerade, deeply cursed is almost a pre-requisite." He releases the hood, content with it for now, and reaches for a bolt of fabric in the same midnight colour, testing to see if it moves dramatically enough for the rest of the cloak.
Scoffing under his breath and collecting up Flora's fabric shears as she kindly disagrees with him, he raises his eyebrows at her skeptically, despite the sincerity in her voice. "Flora, we both know that is not true," he says, amused. "You are someone I consider a friend, but you would not fall in love with me. Be serious." Only apparently she is being serious, and though he feels his ears start to burn with her parting shot, he can only force his shoulders into a shrug that's a lot more casual than he feels.
"Bold of you to assume that I am into any kind of smudging makeup."
stay your pretty eyes on course i guess i never really faced my fears before
Flora lifts her chin, arching a brow with theatrical offence as she sets her stitching aside once more. "Do I look like someone who’s ever been satisfied with what most people get?" she asks, eyes glittering before she grins affectionately at him.
With a rustle of gold-threaded feathers, she leans in against the table, elbows braced and voice low with a conspiring sort of warmth. "Besides," she goes on, curls spilling slightly over her shoulder as she tilts her head toward him, "we get along. You’re clever. I’m adorable. We could definitely share clothes. And if we ever drove each other crazy, I feel like it’d be the fun kind rather than the sort that makes you hate yourself."
She shrugs, lashes fluttering. "Anyway, I suppose I could learn to live with always being the big spoon. I’d sacrifice. For love." And as for his last comment? Flora presses her lips together in an exaggerated purse, as if trying very hard not to comment, a muffled little hmm! escaping despite her efforts. The glint in her eye says it all: Challenge accepted.
07-23-2025, 10:06 AM (This post was last modified: 07-23-2025, 10:08 AM by Nikandr.)
NIKI
"You do not," Niki concedes with a smirk as he carefully and precisely cuts his fabric to the appropriate size, or thereabouts. "But then do I look like a particularly open and approachable person to begin with?" It had been sheer luck, after all, that he had called to her that day on the bank when he'd been rather unfortunately stranded. Had he been safely on the bridge, they likely would never have met.
As Flora leans in closer, all glittering amusement and mischief, Niki steadfastly focuses on his spooky cloak, though the warmth in his blue eyes is unmistakeable. "I do not think I would be able to pull off any of your outfits," he says, "but you are welcome to my assortment of shirts and sweaters." As long as her aesthetic for the day is baggy and oversized.
Scrunching his nose in response to her pursed lips - spooning, sacrifice, love, oh my! - Niki holds her gaze for a second or two as if they are in competition, before he promptly sets his fabric down and reaches for his tea. "Speaking of sharing clothes," he says airily, gesturing to the box of goodies she's brought, "are you ready to make your mask?"
stay your pretty eyes on course i guess i never really faced my fears before
Flora casts a slow, deliberate once-over in his direction, mischief curling at the corners of her mouth. "You don’t look especially open," she agrees lightly, "but looks can be deceiving." Then, with a bubbling laugh, she straightens and narrows her eyes. "Wait—do you mean you literally wouldn’t be able to pull them off? As in, my leather pants would get stuck around your thighs?" She gasps, as if the idea delights her more than it should, and without waiting for clarification, adds brightly, "I accept your offer of sweaters and shirts." And gods, Niki would probably quickly come to regret his offer when everything of his started smelling faintly of jasmine.
Letting him shift the conversation, she glances at the box and pulls out one of the folded templates, unfurling it with a practiced flick and setting it down. Her fingers tap thoughtfully at the edges. "I can’t decide," she muses, eyes darting between fabrics and trim. "Should I leave mine plain and let my eyes and lipstick do the talking? Or actually decorate it and lean into the whole spooky-chic thing?" With a tilt of her head, she lifts her gaze to him. "What are you going to do for yours?"
Lifting his chin and raising his eyebrows as Flora's gaze rakes over him - something Niki is becoming increasingly accustomed to by the Doubletake, he has to admit - he can't help but scoff at her assumption, the boy setting down the fabric shears and wincing. "I meant aesthetically," he clarifies, "but now that you mention it, I would likely be at risk of getting stuck in a few of your favourite garments, it is true." Rather than delight, though, the prospect brings some very real concern - or it would, if he had any true intention of sneaking on her clothes.
"My wardrobe is your wardrobe," he agrees with a small flourish of his hand - joke's on Niki, though, because evidently he doesn't espect her to actually take him up on it given their respective fashion senses. More fool him when everything does start to smell floral.
As for the mask, he tilts his head at the template she unfolds, nibbling at the inside of his cheek. "I think I will stick to my original idea," he says - that being the half-skull with kohl and makeup to decorate the lower half of his face. "So I suppose from my perspective, I will be leaving it plain. Though I suppose that will mean having to bring extra supplies in case I need to fix something." Which likely goes for Flora too, if she decides similarly.
stay your pretty eyes on course i guess i never really faced my fears before
Flora hums thoughtfully, deeply considering the logistics of Niki trapped in too-tight clothing. "Well," she says breezily, "good thing I’d be around to help peel you out of whatever dire, fashion-related emergency you get yourself into. I’m very experienced at unbuttoning crises."
Winking as she settles back over her work, she plucks one of the templates with delicate precision and begins to sort through her smaller embellishments. "Agreed—always bring backups. Especially if you’re going the makeup route. Nothing worse than sweating and having half of your work drip off."
As she speaks, her hands work with ease: she adds a pair of long, dramatic lashes to the upper edge of the mask’s eyeholes, letting them curl outward in a flirtatious flare. The rest she leaves pristine, the surface smooth and white as porcelain.
"Flora, I am never quite sure whether or not you are flirting with me lately," Niki confesses with a self-deprecating smirk. "And I do not know quite how to take it. Though it is a relief, I suppose, to know that you will be there to assist should I get myself stuck in a shirt far too small for me." With his hood and the majority of his drahmahtic cloak measured and cut and stitched, Niki also reaches for one of the templates that most suits what he's looking for.
Opting to add a little shading to his own around the eyeholes and the ridge for the nose - just to make it appropriately skull-like - he also leaves it be once he's satisfied, leaving the rest bone-white and unadorned. "I do not think I have ever had makeup drip off me before," he says with a furrowed brow. "Ought I be concerned about that, do you think?" As he speaks he adds a solemn black ribbon to his mask to be able to tie it in place.
stay your pretty eyes on course i guess i never really faced my fears before
Flora flashes him a wink, sweet as a stolen kiss and twice as unserious. "Oh, babe. Just assume I’m always flirting with you." Her grin is all sunshine and shimmer, but the glint in her eye is fond, not sharp—teasing, but never cruel.
She props her chin in her hand as she watches him work, lashes fluttering like she's observing something far more decadent than careful shading. "Look at you," she murmurs, mock-awed. "Turning vanilla into vertebrae." His mask, simple but effective, takes shape with each stroke, and Flora—ever the connoisseur of flair—nods her approval. It's giving OG AHS
At his concern, though, she sits up straighter, brows lifting. "Oh, definitely be concerned," she says gravely, though the sparkle in her tone gives her away. "Masquerades are chaos, full of sweat and secrets as if masks remove all inhibitions and consequences—doesn’t take much to melt your face off, metaphorically or otherwise." She leans in just enough to be conspiratorial. "Even if you’re not planning on doing anything... someone else will be, and the heat from all that intention? Whew." She fans herself with a scrap of fabric, then grins. "At the very least, your cheekbones are gonna glisten, so yeah lets make sure we bring extra makeup for touchups."
Narrowing his eyes right back at Flora, as if to meet her mischief with wry acceptance (and a growing fondness as well, let's be honest), Niki hums out a sigh and slowly turns his attention back to his mask. And at her 'awe', playful as it might be, he flicks his eyes to her face for just a second. "Vertebrae," he says slowly, dry as kindling, "actually form part of the spinal column. This is a skull." He taps the mask gently, smirking, and then finally sets it aside.
And as the Doubletake leans in, all conspiracy and secrets whispered from the hidden alcoves of a ballroom, Niki naturally finds himself leaning back, perturbed at best and concerned at worse. "What kind of masquerades have you attended?" he wonders - not that he has a single scrap of experience to draw upon. "I am beginning to think I ought to find a nice wall to flower against quite early."
stay your pretty eyes on course i guess i never really faced my fears before
Flora rolls her eyes with theatrical affection, letting out a scandalised little gasp that melts into laughter. "Ugh, you're a skull," she groans, waving her gold-threaded needle like a wand of mockery. Still, the corners of her mouth twitch upward in unmistakable delight—there’s something deeply satisfying about how precisely he corrects her, like they’re playing different instruments in the same song.
As he leans away from her with that perfectly perturbed expression, she doesn’t chase him—just lifts her chin and arches a brow, supremely unbothered. "Absolutely not," she declares. "You’re not flowering against anything until you’ve had at least one dance with me, even if it is just a bit of gentle swaying."
She tilts her head, curls bouncing slightly, voice going just a touch softer. "Besides...surely Ludo is going to want people to act a bit like it does, I assume, so if anything it's probably safest to not be too demur, or it'll probably target you."
"So close - I have a skull," Niki quips back, "but I appreciate the confusion. Words can be difficult." He's properly grinning now, even if it's directed mostly down towards the needlework he's picked up so he can affix his hood to his new cloak. It's enough that, at Flora's threat insistence, rather than offering any further resistance, Niki gives her a gentle nod. "Very well," he tells her, "we will attend the masquerade, I will give you the best gentle sway of your life, and you will leave a changed woman."
Smirking, he glances back up at her once he's convinced he isn't about to stab himself in the fingers, head tilting as he considers her remarks. "You make a good point," he concedes, however reluctantly. "And given that I am a follower of Mort, it would be quite a mistake to offend his herald, would you not agree?"
stay your pretty eyes on course i guess i never really faced my fears before
With a wounded gasp, Flora clutches the nearest scrap of fabric and collapses sideways onto the table, limbs splayed like a tragic heroine mid-opera. "Words are difficult," she moans dramatically, muffled into the cloth. "And so, too, is living in a world where my anatomical mistakes are mocked. If only...if only there were a necromancer nearby to resurrect me from such public humiliation."
She peeks up at him from the folds of muslin and thread, eyes wide and shimmering with adoration. "Now who's flirting with who?" she breathes, utterly rapt."“The best gentle sway of my life? Niki, don’t say things you can’t take back." But then, softer, more sincere, she adds, "I’m really looking forward to it."
Propping her chin on her hand, she gives him a bright, conspiratorial grin. "And you’re absolutely right. Besides, Mort would never just stand around at a party either. So really," she says, gesturing between them with her thread, "you owe it to both Ludo and Mort."
"I was not mocking, I was merely correcting. This is a teachable moment, Flora, you ought to be proud of yourself," Niki says mildly, returning to his stitchwork as the Doubletake dramatically dies upon his living room table. "I do apologise," he tells her, "but the most complex creature I have been able to resurrect thus far is a small housecat. I will let you know, though, if any better necromancers come visiting the Greatwood. For now, I suppose you are finally the ghost in this house."
Oh, how the turn tables.
Arching an eyebrow down at her, the boy considers for a moment, before reciting back to her in perfect deadpan, "Oh, babe. Just assume I am always flirting with you." Content that this will suffice, he does soften and add, afterwards, "As am I. It goes without saying, I think, that I do not get out too often."
Sighing, ensuring the gesture is far more reluctantly accepting than he really feels, with the invocation of Mort and Ludo both, Niki finally concedes to having fun at the masquerade. Even if it involves potentially sweating off all of his makeup. "I do not suppose you have any idea where the masquerade will be?" he asks. "I feel as though Ludo's Woods is an obvious choice."
stay your pretty eyes on course i guess i never really faced my fears before
"Oh finally," Flora exclaims, bolting upright with all the flair of a phantom exorcised. "I’ve been waiting for my ghost arc. Mourn me dramatically, won’t you?" she pleads, then immediately begins making breathy, high-pitched ooooooOOOOoooo sounds as she wiggles her fingers like a wraith and floats dramatically (read: shuffles theatrically) around the table.
She’s still haunting the teapot when Niki parrots her line back at her, and it stops her cold. There’s a second of silence, before she absolutely beams, so full of delight and disbelief that it scrunches her nose and lifts her shoulders. "Oh my gods," She presses a hand to her chest. "I really might fall in love with you now. This is what euphoria feels like, I think."
The delight doesn’t fade as she settles back into her seat, taking up her mask again. At his question, she shrugs, curls bouncing. "Ludo’s Woods would make sense," she agrees, then flashes him a sly, sideways smile. "But knowing Ludo it could be anywhere just to make things more chaotic, y'know?"
