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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!
08-01-2025, 07:44 AM (This post was last modified: 08-01-2025, 07:46 AM by Ludo.)
LUDO
The woods come to life as night falls.
Music, chiming and vibrant, warbles directly from the hollows of trees clad in riotous Leafchange colour, their branches decked with an assortment of ribbons, glowing lanterns and little paper ghosts. Will-o-wisps gather along the dirt paths, softly pulsing with light and heralding the way into the masquerade, which opens into a large, idyllic clearing flanked by colourful tents, stalls and cookfires.
String lights shimmer at the party's borders, though Ludo's Woods will always beckon those bold enough to step off the beaten path, and here the music seems a little louder, a little more jovial, begging for a dance or a twirl with or without a partner.
A long, heavy table sits to one side of the proceedings, laden with a masquerade feast: there are charcuterie boards of cheese and meat and bread, bacon wrapped sausages glazed with honey and orange, skewers of fig and spiced chicken; there are cherries dipped in white chocolate, glazed fruits and cakes and cookies; there's blackberry champagne and cinnamon fruit punch. A barrel sits off to one side, filled to the brim with apples bobbing in cider.
In short, you are invited.
But if you're very clever, no one will ever know you were really here.
Hello and WELCOME to Ludo's Leafchange Masquerade!!
A few bits of housekeeping:
1. You must post THREE TIMES to the masquerade for it to count as part of your SE requirements and levelling.
2. You must have already started your SE requirement to create a costume for the masquerade in order to attend - but you do not have to have finished it yet! (NOTE: if you are not completing SEs and just want to attend the masquerade, this does not apply!)
3. With the above in mind, please post the thread where you are making your costume at the bottom of your first post.
The strange red bark of Ludo's Wood groans with something like affection as Remi passes beneath, his footsteps soundless despite the weight of him, the soft clink of hidden treats tucked in his pockets betraying just how seriously he’s taken the invitation. Not the anonymity, necessarily—though the porcelain mask pressed to his face is a perfect echo of Ludo’s own, complete with its haunting blankness—but the spirit of it.
His cloak hangs in tatters, catching on the sighing underbrush and drifting leaves, though the state of it is meant as a nod to Ludo rather than a lack of effort. Holding Ronin ’s hand, because of course he is, the Bastion gives his husband a crooked smile as they wander down a pathway lit by will o' wisps and lanterns towards where the music swells up ahead.
"So." The travelling tongue curls warmly around the word, low and amused, like honey drizzled over something sharp. "How much chaos do you think this night will hold?" His voice is just for Ronin, pitched below the revelry, shaped by the lopsided grin that the mask can’t hide completely. "With everyone hidden behind masks? Should we start making bets now?"
Remi's outfit making thread: [SE] i'll stand and deliver
Who are you? They ask. Death? Sometimes... I say. But not today
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Flora walks beside Nikandr with the languid elegance of someone who wants to be watched, and is determined to give them a show worth remembering. Her heels, perilous and glittering with every step, make the forest path a catwalk of their own. Not that she minds the slow pace that they've forced upon her; it gives her more time to lean into Niki’s arm, to bask in the lanternlight and the music spilling like laughter from the hollows of old bark.
"You," she declares with a grin, tossing her golden curls over one shoulder as she flicks her gaze toward his painted jaw, "look absolutely fantastic. No one is going to doubt me for a second when I say that you're a ghost, now." Her voice is syrupy with delight, the mask she wears entirely white save for the lashes she’s drawn with inky flair, as dramatic and unapologetic as everything else about her.
Her gown glides like spilled ink across her body, the raven's feathers at her collar trembling with every step like they’re alive and half-impressed to be worn by someone this shameless. Black fabric clings to her curves, corseted and cruel in all the right places, though it’s the way she moves that draws eyes: with confidence born of chaos and heartbreak, of knowing exactly how many versions of herself she’s survived.
They crest the edge of the clearing just as a will-o-wisp flits across their path. The scent of roasted fruit and cinnamon cuts through the hum of music and revelry, and gods, it almost makes her forget how far from simple this place used to be. "C’mon," she murmurs to Niki as they step fully into the clearing, her grin curling with mischief and memory alike. "Can I tempt you with a drink to loosen things up?" And if her gaze lingers a little longer than it should on the edges of the clearing—if she’s looking for someone or something she hasn’t let herself name—well. That’s what masks are for, isn’t it?
Flora made her outfit in [SE] *
some real big things I still gotta figure out
Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3
Two traditional Ludos walk into the masquerade, hand in hand. The only difference is that, on one of them, the mask appears to be smiling, and there is a small snowdrop pinned to the lapel of the black rags. "If Ludo gets its way?" Ronin purrs, giving Remi's fingers a warm squeeze as they follow the will-o-wisps towards the clearing. "Plenty. Though I think we both know that it doesn't necessarily need to be involved for there to be chaos."
Depending on the attendees, there will be mayhem galore within the hour, he almost guarantees it. Smiling under his mask as the music picks up the beat and they stroll out into the clearing, he takes the opportunity to give his husband a little twirl, before drawing him snug back against his side - in case of any encroaching members of the crowd, you see. "I'd love to take bets once we can guess who's here," he says, before a glimmer of black feathers and sharp heels draws his eye.
"Not that I think we will have to guess too hard to recognise our daughter," he rumbles. "Though I don't know the person she's with."
Light spills from between the branches—lanterns swaying like ghost-hearts, ribbons twisting in the dusk breeze—and somewhere deeper in, the pulse of music stirs like a heartbeat resurrected. Vesper walks between his sisters, his dark blue cloak catching the glint of firelight and folding it into the silver threads stitched like constellations across his shoulders. Beneath the porcelain mask—plain, unadorned, a blank canvas against the chaos of the masquerade—his eyes blaze through like cold stars. Watchful. Sharp. Just amused enough to be dangerous.
"Remember," he murmurs, just loud enough for Nova and Calypso to hear beneath the chirr of revelry, "I'll know what sorts of shenanigans you two get up to." The words are simple, but the grin curling behind his mask is not. He taps a gloved finger to his temple in case they miss the implication, the raised brows that follow playful beneath polished indifference. For better or worse he'd be keeping tabs on them for the evening, which meant both he'd be there to get them out of any dodgy situations, but also to tease them about their choices come morning.
Then, with all the solemnity of a high priest performing a rite: "Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do." Which, given the range of things he would do, is less warning than open invitation.
The clearing blooms before them like a dream coaxed out of death’s garden. Ribbons and ghosts. Apples and fig. Light and laughter stitched together in defiance of endings. Vesper inhales slowly, letting the scent of honeyed meat and cider pool somewhere low in his lungs, the tension there sweet and old.
☆ has a pale star tattoo beneath his left eye, and freckle-sized constellations move across his skin
☽ hair changes from bleached blonde to brown
☆ telepathic: Sunlit Shadows | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 60ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
08-01-2025, 10:31 AM (This post was last modified: 08-01-2025, 10:34 AM by Nikandr.)
NIKI
Niki can't lie that it had been something of a relief to know that the masquerade was spawning in his home territory; no need for long skyship rides or packing belongings or getting used to a new place. As such he's about as comfortable and carefree as he's like to get, Flora on one arm and his cane in the other, slate blue eyes bright within the dark, smudging shadow of his mask.
Stylised to look like the top half of a skull, the bottom half takes shape on his face with some meticulously applied makeup, creating a ghoulish mask with anatomical precision. He's dressed entirely in black beneath a simple but classic cloak, the hood draped around his shoulders, the garment pinned with a bone carved into a shape of a moth to match his walking stick.
"I do not think anyone will be looking at me at all, Flora," he tells her with a raise of his eyebrows she won't see and a dry smile she definitely will. "And I am not complaining in the slightest, I assure you. I do not drink, normally, but... eh, it is an occasion. One cannot hurt, right?"
Arriving almost on the heels of the Marin triplets, Jack is nevertheless preceded by several members of his crew. Bassian is impossible to miss given that his Ludo costume still only ended up reaching mid-thigh, whilst Murphy has forgone a cloak entirely and steps into the proceedings in a black silk mask and his usual dark garb. Others break off ahead of the captain, too, and by the time he reaches the clearing he's comfortably alone, hands in his pockets, shoulders relaxed.
The cloak Colt had initially pinned and cut for him has been stitched, finished, and carefully shredded at the hem to give the impression of rags that billow around his calves. All true to the trickster so far; the mask, however, does deviate from Ludo's pale impression. Covering Jack's eyes and nose, it's painted in sweeps of metallic teal and copper, reminiscent of the sea-worn statue to the herald along Torchline's coast.
Making a beeline for the drinks and tossing a lazy salute towards Vesper - the captain intends to get something spiced and strong and settle in for some people (mind) watching.
Flora’s grin grows sharp and sweet at once, a candy apple with teeth. "Is that your way of telling me I look good?" she purrs, tilting her head at Nikandr like she’s giving him another angle to admire, golden curls catching the lanternlight like spun sugar on fire.
With a wink as wicked as the cut of her dress, she steers them toward the cider barrel, absolutely not searching the crowd for blue eyes or a boyishly bright voice rising above the fray. Flora selects two glasses of cider that look appropriately strong, ones floating with dark spices and little curls of citrus peel. She hands one to Niki with theatrical flair and a raised brow that dares him to protest. "Drink up, because I'm in the mood for a sway." She taps his cup with hers in a toast that needs no words and takes a sip deep enough to set her bones humming.
some real big things I still gotta figure out
Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3
"Do we need to go over the rules one more time, or do you think you're good?" Danta's voice is like quicksilver and honey, slick and sticky in all the wrong places, and he gives Astaroth's hand a squeeze as they thread their way through the musical trees towards the masquerade. It's unusual for there to be any rules at all when it comes to the Maverick and the butcher, and even more unusual for them to arrive hand in hand, but strange seasons call for strange tactics.
Said rules mainly revolve around Asta promising to keep his teeth to himself and Danta - shock, horror - being allowed to speak to whomever he pleases, but he'll do his best not to wear his lover's patience too thin. And as they step into the clearing he's quite snug against the other man's side, a smile curling across his lips at the decorations and the plethora of food and drink on offer.
Danta doesn't wear a cloak; it's more of a cape that hangs from one of his shoulders, black as pitch on the outside but lined with gold silk. His mask is similarly styled, all dark lace and shimmering gold accents, and he's drawn up his glamour for the occasion - no tail or horns in sight, though there might still be a peek of fangs when he smiles. "Come on," he suggests to Asta, "let's go find a tree for you to lurk against."
He does spot Flora across the way, however - how the fuck could you miss her? - his eyes lighting up and his hand lifting in a friendly wave, though he'll give it a little while before attempting any socialisation.
"It is," Niki says easily to Flora, his smile remaining as he allows her to lead them over to the drinks. "Though I was attempting to be subtle so as to not have to spell it out." Not that he thinks he'll need to; Flora looks objectively gorgeous no matter who is looking, providing they have the benefit of eyes in their head. Releasing her so that she might collect their two mugs of cider, the boy accepts his drink with a nod of gratitude, resisting the urge to peer into it as if to break it down to its base components and ingredients.
Instead, he forces himself to take a small sip - it's sweet and crisp but sharp enough to have an eye crinkling at the corner; not terrible, all in all, especially given Niki's preference away from sweets. "A sway?" he echoes, before remembering and letting out a quiet laugh, lifting his mug to clink it with her own. "Alright. Let me see how inclined I am to sway after this, yes?"
stay your pretty eyes on course keep the memories of who i was before
Flora laughs, bright and bubbling like the cider fizzing against her lips. "Mm, is that because you’re a poor speller?" she teases, eyes dancing as she leans just slightly into Nikandr 's side, her voice full of mock-concern. "Should I be worried you’re actually saying I look ghoul instead of good?"
She takes a healthier sip than anyone in a corset probably should, the spiced cider cutting through the sugar like a blade through satin. Her gaze turns, drawn like a tide to the trickle of black and white masks now beginning to arrive, each one a stitched variation on Ludo’s favourite face. "Weird, right?" she murmurs, nudging him gently with her elbow. "It’s like being in a cult, but...festive."
Never one to linger in subtlety too long, she downs the rest of her cider in one determined tilt, the curl of her nose betraying the kick at the bottom. "Ugh. Good, but not efficient," she declares, turning toward the drinks table again like a woman on a mission. She plucks a shot glass of something clear and bracing, the scent of clove and star anise practically daring her. "Much better," she hums, knocking it back with a snap of her lashes and a pleased little shiver. "My corset’s too tight to get full on cider," she explains breezily, as if that’s the only reason. "And while I wouldn't say no to be unlaced midparty, I'm going to need my liquor in very small, very effective doses."
She flashes a grin over her shoulder, lips glossed red and daring. "Now. How’s that swaying feeling coming along? If it isn't, you could always do a shot as well and I promise the ground will do all the swaying for you."
some real big things I still gotta figure out
Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3
I’ve never been to a masquerade before—never even been to a real party, not like this—and the excitement fizzing in my chest feels like it’s going to float me right off the ground. The path through Ludo’s Woods is alive with sound and light, music rising from the trees like laughter, and will-o-wisps bobbing ahead to show the way. Every step I take sends my heart fluttering.
The clearing spills open before me like a secret garden of chaos and color. Lanterns swing above my head, ribbons flutter in the branches, and people in every imaginable kind of costume dance and drink and laugh. I step forward, and the air itself seems to welcome me.
The dress I’m wearing clings close from the chest down to my hips, the bodice deep violet-black and shaped to hug my body just right. At the waist, it bursts into movement—ribbons of purple and silver swirl and sway with every shift of my legs. They’re cut like fire or water, layered in sharp and soft shapes, brushing against my skin in uneven lengths that glitter when they catch the lanternlight. I can feel the breeze between them, cool against my thighs, and it makes me feel bold, like I belong here. Like I’m not just pretending.
And then there’s the mask.
Shards of mirror, sharp and gleaming, cover every inch of it. They glint like teeth, like broken stars, pieced together into something fierce and beautiful. I chose it because it reminds me of the mask my dad used to wear before he gave up that part of himself for me—sharp and quiet and unreadable. I never got to see it in action, not really, but I remember how he held it. And tonight, wearing this, I feel like maybe he’d be proud. Like I get to carry a piece of him with me.
I hope my mom will show up. She said she might, but I know she's still unused to being so exposed to everyone, so seen again. I step further into the clearing and scan the crowd, nerves curling beneath my ribs—until I spot her.
I light up, waving as I make my way toward her—and then freeze mid-step when I see who’s standing beside her. "AndNikandr!" I break into a grin. "You’re here!"
I practically bounce as I reach them, my mask catching light with every breath I take. "You both look amazing. I mean it. Seriously—wow." And then I cringe. "Ah. I'm interrupting aren't I? Don't mind me..."
I duck between them and grab a drink—I've started to understand the appeal now—and take a hardly gulp of whatever I grabbed. It's strong, and taste like actual fire.
08-01-2025, 10:37 PM (This post was last modified: 08-01-2025, 11:09 PM by Sohalia.)
When you hold me, it holds me together
Sohalia wasn't exactly in the mood for a party, but oh, what a party it was.
Ludo's Woods were decorated with string lights and will-o-wisps; the sound of music and laughter weaved through the trees, beckoning to all the partygoers meandering along the wayward paths. Tables of all kinds of food overflowed amongst colorful tents and stalls, and fires dotted the partyscape, though whether for cooking or warmth or just the sheer joy of gazing into the flames, Soh wasn't sure.
The Luminary entered quietly, perhaps more distinguished by her solemn countenance as opposed to her golden hair or silver eyes. She'd dressed in the costume she'd made for Ludo: dark, flowing, off-the-shoulder fabric held up by bejeweled straps; a white, beautifully decorated mask; and accessories to tie it all together. Her long, blonde hair was worn loose in waves that cascaded down her mostly bare back, and she carried a small clutch with the basic necessities for any woman at a party.
Her gaze roved over the partygoers, but she made no move to join anyone. Instead, she meandered towards the food tables. Not particularly hungry, she helped herself to a flute of champagne instead, then wandered towards the trees. Perhaps someone would find her there, or perhaps not - she wasn't sure that it mattered much to her tonight.
08-01-2025, 10:44 PM (This post was last modified: 08-01-2025, 11:05 PM by Alys.)
Lights flash and we'll run for the fences Let them say what they want, we won't hear it
Alys arrived to the masquerade with an air of excitement about her; she'd never been to a proper masquerade before, and she was excited to see the costumes and masks bedecking the partygoers. She herself was dressed in a black, lacy ensemble that was rather more revealing than she was partial to. Still, despite her initial discomfort, she had to admit that she felt pretty, even hidden behind her mask.
Sascha tagged along at her heels, no doubt giving her identity away - not that she was particularly fussed about hiding it. Upon arriving, she didn't immediately spot anyone she knew, but that didn't bother her. She was quite sure she'd recognize Deimos when he eventually appeared, at least, and if not him, then perhaps one of her other friends. For now, she gravitated towards the food tables and piled a plate high, then meandered towards an empty table, where she took a seat and began to share some of the charcuterie with Sascha.
Loose lips sink ships all the damn time Not this time
Alys
Minor powerplay allowed without permission.
Feel free to use force/magic on Alys.
Emotional Telepathy | The user can read deep emotions of those within a 5 foot radius at will. Control is excellent. Note: "Deep emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
Emotional Perception | The user can read surface level emotions of those within a 15 foot radius. Control is moderate. Note: "Surface level emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
