Click here for a list of weather descriptions, seasonal festivals, and a real time:site time conversion.
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!
She bristles at Dantalion's words, not having expected such a snappy response to her bland sarcasm or being called out for her lack of interest in the party. There are too many other emotions to contend with for her to keep her mouth shut and she peeks around Astaroth with a snide remark sharp on her tongue - only to be interrupted by the Butcher between them.
It doesn't stop the icy glare sent Danta's way or the thought that perhaps Asta isn't the only one feeling the effects of the season. But there's also the small matter of her very tender heart and how the reception leaves her feeling less than welcome. While Asta's words reassure her of his willing participation in his current predicament, the warning reminds her achingly of where his priorities lie. She's happy for him - she really is. She's happy that Danta makes him happy - and she can't explain why that makes her feel a little hollower inside.
Maybe she should have stuck to anonymity for a while longer.
Shifting her cloak a little tighter around her shoulders, Thal turns away so Asta won't see, so she won't have to explain what even she can't comprehend. Her shoulders shrug with the motion, deciding not to make a scene for his sake. "Fine, if you say so."
Downing the drink in her hand, she forces herself to step out towards the tables. "I guess I'll find someone who appreciates my humor. Might even give them a wallflower in your honor." The bitter, fanged grin she gives Danta implies that it will be a very charred flower, fluttering to ash when anyone bothers to touch it. Then she turns, ready to find someone who won't know her name and might even say something nice.
Raising an eyebrow incredulously at Flora at that remark - her having found one thing he's bad at, he means - Niki glances down and gestures to his cane and his leg brace. "...Walking?" he suggests, before (and perhaps it's for the best) Theea is with them and there are others to steal the attention. "I met Theea in the Greatwood," he confirms, inclining his head at her compliment.
Turning to where Flora has pointed, Niki can't help but raise his eyebrows at the sight of Astaroth, quietly clearing his throat. "I believe I met him in the woods also," he says, "though he was wearing more clothes back the-- oh, alright." He waves off the Doubletake, before smiling and returning his full attention to Theea.
"It is good to see you too," he agrees, taking another sip of cider, this one more casual. "I have been well, yes. It is nice to see the Greatwood hosting an event again. And how have you been - did you make it to Torchline?"
Then, of course, a walking tidal wave parts the crowd to settle beside them, and Niki's quick inhale is thankfully hidden beneath the layers of his cloak. "It has been a while," he agrees with Sunjata, smiling and ducking his head in a nod. Reaching back to set the cup of cider on the table, suddenly one of the shots Flora was drinking seems a better bet.
"I do not consider it an intrusion. This is Theea, a friend of mine," he says, gesturing to her and turning to smoothly shoot back the shot, only for the unexpected burn in his chest and throat to seize him for a few moments. Coughing when, at last, he can take a breath, he holds up a hand in apology.
"How are things in King's End?" he asks for the sake of small talk. And honestly, he has no idea how long passes before Flora's return, but the world has developed a comfortable warmth to its edges when she does, and conversation seems much easier than before.
"The mirror?" he echoes, already moving to unclip the bag attached to his belt for Flora to use. "...Ah! Yes, right."
stay your pretty eyes on course keep the memories of who i was before
"One of the kindest ways I've ever told someone to fuck off too, if that helps," Jack says with a flash of teeth, lifting his glass to Colt in a toast, though it appears she's struggling with her own drink. Raising a brow and reaching back, he plucks up a bottle of tequila and wiggles it at her before setting it back down, as if to offer something more familiar if she doesn't feel like spluttering her way through the masquerade.
"Well, I plan to keep bein' a familiar cloak by the drinks for a bit longer, if you ever want to be told to fuck off again," he advises with a scoff under his breath. Lifting his rum once again as she makes her departure, Jack soon finishes his drink and, indeed, gets back to his people watching. Eventually, of course, he ends up by the fateful cluster of tables with his crew and then, not long at all after that, in the deep dark of the woods.
By the time he returns, cigarette in hand and another drink snagged from a nearby table, the masquerade has continued to tick on, each mind an individual grain of sand spilling through the hourglass that will take them to the end of the night. He senses Vesper before he spots him, a mostly dark spot in a sea of lights, flickering like static.
"I'd know that look anywhere," he says idly as he ghosts up beside him, smirking around the cigarette. "Focus on someone - anyone. Use 'em to get grounded against everythin' else. Y'know, as a treat." Or a break.
it's not your fault that you're always wrong the weak ones are there to justify the strong
Remi’s grin tilts sharp beneath the mask, the expression unmistakable even behind porcelain as Ronin draws him close. "Mmm. I’m going to miss how handsy you are when Deepfrost hits," he murmurs, words low and golden as they curl into the space between them. The warmth of Ronin’s side against his is enough to ward off the cool breeze that twists through the clearing—though Remi suspects that has more to do with who he’s pressed against than anything seasonal.
At the mention of Flora, Remi's gaze is directed toward a glint of thigh and the unmistakable sweep of blonde curls caught mid-laugh in the flickering lantern light.
There’s no mistaking Flora, and not just because he's her dad. Even masked, even costumed, she shines with a stubborn brilliance that she no doubt gets from her mother. His gaze flicks to the man beside her—skull paint, thin, and unfamiliar. The smile in Remi’s voice lingers, but his brows lift behind the mask. "Think that’s a new boyfriend she’s planning on bringing home for us to meet?" he asks, dry but not unkind, his hand tightening lightly around Ronin’s. Doubtful Flora would bring anyone back to them after how things went with Jack, but the Bastion wasn't entirely ready to admit he'd been at fault there. The truth tastes complicated, and this isn’t the night for it.
"Speaking of," he murmurs, "do you see Isla?" The crowd is thickening, movement flashing like candlelight between trees and masks, making it impossible to tell. "After everything I wonder if she would want to come to something like this." Everything, of course being have died and been resurrected as a unicorn, only to be killed again at Ludo's request.
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.
Vesper stiffens the moment Jack draws near. Not just from the sound of his voice—low and sardonic, curling like smoke around the edges of Vesper’s frayed nerves—but from the sheer proximity, the sudden gravity of someone whose mind he can’t hear. It should be a relief, a reprieve, a breath of silence in a room full of screaming, but right now, it just makes him feel unmoored.
Vesper turns toward him, slow and brittle, his jaw clenched so tightly beneath the porcelain mask it’s a wonder his teeth don’t crack. He looks, frankly, like hell. Not in the usual dramatic way he enjoys—no artful aloofness, no deliberate dishevelment—but like if he lets go for even a second, he might vomit or disappear into mist.
He opens his mouth to respond, some sharp little blade of sarcasm already half-formed on his tongue—but nothing comes out. The words fall short, swallowed by the static gnawing at the base of his skull, and for a moment all he can do is breathe, or try to.
Then, slowly, he shifts his gaze and picks the first mind he can feel. It’s a young woman at the table beside them, fingers curling delicately around a flute of fruit punch as she lowers the edge of her cloak to show off her cleavage with what she clearly thinks is subtlety. Her thoughts are glittery and crude, all candy-pink fantasy with someone called Aaron’s hands on her waist, if she could just get the timing right. It helps a little, ike throwing a thread across a storm and pretending it’s a lifeline. His shoulders drop half an inch, the throb behind his eyes easing from a knife to a dull pressure. The masquerade doesn’t stop spinning, but the carousel slows just enough for him to catch the rhythm again.
When he finally glances at Jack, it’s not with a smirk or a quip, but with something closer to a plea. Barely there, but unmistakable—a flash of rawness in the cold blue of his eyes, a sliver of white-knuckled panic beneath all that elegant self-control. Like he’s hanging on by fingertips and expecting the edge to crumble.
"I hate this party," he mutters, voice hoarse with restraint.
wake me when it's over like a bad dream
Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!
☆ 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.
"You've been at plenty of others before," Jack reminds the demigod, an eyebrow raised beneath his mask as if wondering why this is the gathering, in particular, to have cracked through his mental defences to chafe them raw. He knows exactly why, of course, having navigated these very rough waters over and over again in his youth, but Vesper had always seemed to be beyond that sort of learning. He'd sprung from the stars fully formed, ready and willing and able to cause whatever mischief took his fancy.
Lifting his drink to his lips and smoothly draining the glass, Jack sets it on the girl's table behind them before lifting his gaze just in time to catch the look on Vesper's face. "...Follow me," he tells him with a quick nod, trusting he won't have to physically lead the boy through the crowd, though he keeps an eye over his shoulder just in case.
Drawing close to the tables where his crew are still loitering, Jack has a brief and quick conversation regarding the other two Marin triplets and how they ought to be kept an eye on in their absence, before he's off once again, heading towards the pathway that leads back into the forest.
Jack and Vesper out!
it's not your fault that you're always wrong the weak ones are there to justify the strong
He can’t help but to notice the streak of lightning that flits down Ashetta's arm before she brushes it away, delight flickering in the sea foam of his eyes as he brightens a touch. HIs grin a bit brighter even as he masks it somewhat as he looks her over, taking in the outfit. She perks up and Thorn’s smile twists into something easier, something more appreciative. As if the way she brightens has reflected in him enough to match her with the same energy.
Which is precisely what he’s good at. Mirroring. “Ooh, yes, can’t forget the teeth.” He beams at her enough to let his bright smile be seen, the sharpness of his own canines (muted compared to the Ancients out and about), but still sharper in comparison to someone who might grind their teeth.
He downs the rest of his glass, too, feeling the float and warmth linger in his bones as he shakes his head, his smile slipping a bit apologetic. “I’ve worn my fair share’ve masks, but nothin’ quite like this.” Leaning over to set the glass down, Thorn takes a moment to take in the party around them, the people slipping off into the shadows with others and new acquaintances being made, with no sign of the herald as far as he can tell. “Ya haven’t seen it yet, have ya?” He asks, leaning in a touch to let the low hum of his voice be better heard over the music filtering in.
“I suppose that’s true,” she gave on a little sigh, trying to forgo the way all those interruptions had been cosmic imbalances, heartaches, and devastations. New chances to forge onward were bigger picture moments in her mind, despite everything else that had come before, mirroring the hope on his features. She grinned in turn though, clinking her cider glass against his. “To better moments,” she whispered, before her lips found Zavien’s somewhere around the mask, and she sipped her drink thereafter.
She had to laugh at his inquiry, light and airy, because ordinarily she wouldn’t say no to food. But he seemed all the more eager to persist in showing her an exact demonstration of his skills, and she wasn’t going to waste a moment more. “We can snack after,” she winked as well, settling her hand in his, ready to dazzle and twist and be foolish, be merry, be hopeful, be divine, in a sanction not well known for any of those things. “Show me!”
"Yeah, I made it," I tell Nikandr with a grin, my voice a little breathless from all the noise and color around us. "It’s making me dizzy trying to keep all the names and faces straight—but I found my family."
And then—
Sunjata. The Flood himself. I’d heard the name, and he’s instantly recognizable even behind the mask—tall, storm-eyed, all confidence and ocean-shadow. I try to play it cool, but the second his attention shifts toward me, my composure cracks. My eyes go wide. "I’m, uh—"
Niki, bless him, cuts in before I make a fool of myself, introducing me for me. I shoot him a grateful look that melts into amusement when he immediately starts coughing on a shot like it’s trying to fight its way back out. I can’t help the tiny laugh that escapes me.
Glancing toward the table, I eye the row of shots, but decide against tempting fate. Instead, I lift the drink I’ve been nursing—a light amber concoction, sweet and citrusy on the first sip, warm and smooth underneath. It slips down easy, the faint fizz tickling my tongue and leaving a heat that blooms slowly in my chest. Definitely safer than whatever tried to strangle Niki.
That’s when Flora appears again, curls tousled, her gown askew, scratches peeking along her back—but still looking utterly stunning. I just assume she got caught in the crowd or wandered somewhere wild; it doesn’t occur to me to think otherwise.
"Hey, how do you know Bassian?" I ask her, curiosity lighting my voice.
"To better moments." Zavien would always take kisses over sips in toasts, his lips curved in a blissful smile as Lena reached up to seal the words that he muttered just before like a pact they'd never break. He'd do anything he could to preserve these times, the ones where his heart felt like a lantern, the hope and anticipation glowing from every pore into the world around him. Short of a natural disaster, he wasn't sure anything could ruin his mood, to diminish that light that felt like too much to contain.
And his heart only seemed to swell all the more when Lena gave her permission. "Yes ma'am." With a smile that could break through any storm cloud, Zavien took her hand delicately in his, guiding her towards the grassy opening that had been made for dancing. Beneath the shimmering lights of the towering canopies, he lifted her hand above her head, expertly directing her into a spin that brought her right into his grasp. His other hand fell naturally to her hip, gentle but confident. The music swirled around them and Zavien moved seamlessly into the rhythm of the song, the steps feeling like the steps to a spar he'd fought a thousand times. His movements were fluid as he did his best to lead Lena along with him, his shining green gaze never leaving her face, a stupidly happy smile on his own.
Flora glances sidelong at Theea, cheeks still tinged with a very particular flush that no amount of wildwood breeze can quite chase away. But it’s the kind of flush that’s softened now, smoothed over by satisfaction and maybe just a little leftover giddiness, so the grin that curves her lips comes easy. "I lived on the Ark for like..." She trails off, wrinkling her nose as she lifts a shoulder, clearly unsure where to draw the line between crashing aboard and practically moving in. "...a while." she amends, voice light, even if there’s a quiet ripple of history beneath it.
Then, with the sort of casualness that’s only earned through repetition—or a recent tangle in the woods—she adds, "Jack and I dated. For about a year or so." Normally, that admission might come with a sigh or a wince or a sudden need to drink whatever’s closest, but this time Flora’s lips twist into a small, almost secret smile. Not smug. Just...settled. Like some piece of her finally clicked back into place, however briefly. "Bassian still comes for sleepovers on my boat a few times a month. We make pancakes and gossip about the rest of the crew."
some real big things I still gotta figure out
Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3
i'll use you as a warning sign that if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind
Smiling his cheshire smile at Nikandr, then to Theea as the abandoned introduces her, he dips his chin in quiet greeting – only partially missing the way that Niki downs the shot like he wants to distract himself from something in the party (blissfully ignorant that it’s likely his own presence). As such, it leaves him to turn more fully to the young woman. “Nice to meet you, Theea.” It’s an easy smile shot her way, the dip of his chin before his gaze flits to Niki. “King’s End is good. We’ve got a full fledged city now in case you wanna visit my neck of the woods some time?”
Of course, that’s when Flora returns looking as if she’d gotten into a fight with a tree (though he knows better, he’s choosing to believe it’s that rather than have to go all stepdad who were you fucking around with?? At her request for water, though, he laughs a quiet accented sound as he nods, snagging an empty glass. He conjures water, filling the glass to the brim and hands it to her right before Theea distracts her with the question of some stranger Sunjata doesn’t know about. “Flora, here you go. Nice and chilled.” For her flushed cheeks and hushed conversation, maybe?
Which leaves him to sit there and bother Niki some more. “Sooo, how’d those boxes turn out?” The metal ones he’d helped Niki make when he’d slowly been losing his mind.
and i'll use you as a focal point so i don't lose sight of what i want
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
Somehow despite the mask and poncho Nova manages to identify him, a fact which rather takes the wind out of Koa's sails. Never one to back down from a game, he responds by scoff-laughing indignantly, his rag-wings flapping as he waves his arm to express his disbelief. "'Koa'? he asks with faux-confusion, taking a step back as she goes for his hood. "Never heard of the fellow. I am Mothman Ludo, and I am drawn the brightest lights in this place."
He winks again, this time letting his playful gaze encapsulate both Nova and Calypso, the later of whom is suspiciously not on his cousin's arm. "But what's this? Two beautiful young ladies, and nobody has come to ask you to dance? It simply won't do." He shakes his head dramatically, extending his arms to the pair. "Come, we must correct this discrepancy. Won't you join me on the floor?" He glances over his shoulder as he speaks, hoping to catch sight of Kaisel and drag him Caly's way. As complicated as his emotions toward the kid may be might be, Koa's still honor bound to play wingman for his cousin. Especially if getting this pair together will lead Kai further from the Dragoon's ex.
Let's fall in love for the night And forget in the morning
there's so much time for me to speak up, but i keep quiet
Flashing a grin beneath the mask, surrounded in the black of her lipstick, Caly only stops short the second her sister does. Glancing to Nova immediately in surprise before drifting to the man that blocks their path, she straightens with a bit of amusement to see Koa's outfit. Like a moth given life in the shape of a man (mixed with Ludo?) Caly can’t hide the hum of a laugh that leaves her, reaching up to block her laughter with a hand wreathed in gold jewelry.
She doesn’t recognize him, but it seems her sister does, which proves to help her relax a fraction further, nodding her agreement. “That’d be nice.” She hums in agreement, snickering again to hear him deny the fact of his identity. She squeezes Nova’s arm before releasing her sister finally. “Go on, sis. Have fun.” She hums, urging her sister to dance with the mothman. She’ll join in a minute, though, going so far as to walk toward Koa where they head to the dance floor, even if she won’t partake without a partner.
