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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!
The relief that moves through her at his answer is quiet but undeniable, a gentle release of something she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. There’s no reason for it, not really—he’s not hers, never was, never could be—but still the idea of some unknown wife or child tugging at the corner of his story makes something in her chest go still.
As Neron adds more detail, Flora's head tilts slightly to the side, curiosity slipping back in to replace the worry. "Was that back in your world?" she asks softly, aqua eyes studying him with careful interest. "Or here?"
She smirks at his commentary on clothing, her laughter slipping out easily as she raises her glass again. "If you wore a black silk shirt to try and take on the Spark Bird during the war," she teases, eyes glittering, "then maybe you had it coming." A shrug follows, casual but not careless. "I wasn’t ready to die yet. Or at least not before making the person who murdered me really regret it."
Her gaze lingers as he lifts the glass, watching him closely, noting the way his expression shifts before the taste even touches his tongue. Her brows arch in silent question, the corners of her mouth already curled in anticipation, and when he sinks back with clear pleasure she beams at him, delighted. Still laughing, she leans in slightly, her shoulder brushing his with a light nudge. "Don’t worry," she says with a mock sigh, "I’m sure Remi will make it exceedingly easy for you if we’re late." Glancing over her shoulder, she casts a slow, deliberate look around the boutique bar as though expecting to find her father lurking in some shadowy alcove, arms crossed and judgment already written in the set of his mouth.
you don't know that you're living til' you're carrying scars you're either falling in love or falling apart
liars and lovers combine tonight, we're gonna make a scene
"Back in my world," Neron clarifies, quick and easy. "I arrived alone in Halo where everyone else was able to get all chummy together in the Hollowed Grounds. I wasn't thinking about relationships as much as I was thinking about how to stay alive." The smile that curls across his lips is almost nostalgic, tinged with a sharpness that speaks of the man he'd become out there on the Tundra; one he remains, more or less, to this day.
Glancing down at his perfectly acceptable shirt and raising his eyebrows at Flora, Neron straightens up and fixes his collar. "I made death look great, thank you very much," he drawls. "Besides, an Ascended versus the Spark Bird? I could have worn a rubber suit and I'd have still been dead at the end of it."
Taking another long sip of wine as if to douse the memory of that night - and purely to enjoy it - he can't help but follow Flora's gaze around the boutique. "Mm, of that I have no doubt. In which case I suppose we had better make the most of the time we have, no?" He reaches out to chime his glass against hers.
"Ahhhh," Flora says with a soft little nod, as if that fills in some missing piece of his story she hadn’t known she was waiting for. Her nose wrinkles soon after, expression scrunching with theatrical distaste. "I don’t know which sounds worse, arriving alone, or arriving in Halo," she says, dragging the word out like it tastes cold.
Her eyes widen playfully as he straightens and adjusts his collar, and she lets out a delighted laugh, one hand pressing to her chest as if winded by the audacity. "You could have just kept making life look great, you know," she teases, before her expression softens slightly, her lips twitching as the thought settles.
Turning her gaze back to him rather than continuing her silent search for any lurking overprotective demigods, she lifts her glass and lets it chime softly against his, the sound bright and fleeting. Then, without a word, she reaches for a cracker and spreads a generous layer of goat cheese across its surface, topping it with a sliver of something marinated and glossy before popping it into her mouth.
The sound she makes is immediate and entirely indulgent; a low hum of satisfaction as her eyes close briefly, head tipping back just slightly in appreciation. She chews, swallows, then nods slowly with a gesture toward the board, her expression turning commanding in the most elegant way. "You have to try that one," she says with finality, as if anything else on the plate might now pale in comparison.
you don't know that you're living til' you're carrying scars you're either falling in love or falling apart
10-21-2025, 02:29 PM (This post was last modified: 10-21-2025, 02:30 PM by Honey.)
liars and lovers combine tonight, we're gonna make a scene
"The answer to that is yes," Neron informs Flora emphatically, lifting his wine to his lips for another indulgent sip of it after their glasses clink together. Arriving alone had been awful, arriving in Halo had been worse - both combined? A hellscape truly, but at least he'd ended up ruling over it for a time. (And if you have to live in a frozen hell, it's better to be in charge of it, right?)
Setting his glass down so he doesn't end up downing his drink in minutes and getting very unfairly tipsy as a result, Neron's expression turns a little more serious as Flora's words sink in. "Mm, I wish I could have," he says softly. His smile remains, if not a little more contemplative now, but luckily the Doubletake is there to reintroduce him to the wonders of charcuterie.
Watching as she prepares and then feasts upon her cracker, it's enough from her expression (and the noise) for him to tell that he ought to try it, and he's already selecting his own cracker before she speaks. "I wonder if I can petition for a halfway boutique bar between life and death," he muses with a smirk. "I'd tend the bar, and then maybe you could visit more often too."
Falling quiet to take a bite himself, if the wine had been revolutionary then truly this is the equivalent of dying all over again, but this time happily so. "Fuck," he mutters after swallowing, offering Flora a soft laugh and a sheepish grin. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't have a list of things I'd have wanted to put in my mouth after getting my sense of taste back... but that was a good one."
Flora tries to temper the smirk pulling at her lips by biting gently at the inside of her cheek, but the effort’s half-hearted at best, and the amusement still glows brightly in her eyes. Lifting her glass, she takes another slow sip; not because she needs to pace herself the way Neron might, but simply because the wine is lovely, and she sees no reason to rush.
The moment he speaks of a bar balanced between realms, her grin blooms wider, mischief curling through her like sunlight through warm water. She’s already layering another cracker with goat cheese and carefully wrapping it in a paper-thin slice of salami as she tilts her head toward him. "That sounds like an incredible idea," she says, pausing only to admire the balance of her creation before popping it into her mouth. "A cozy little purgatory with candlelight and impeccable wine. Very exclusive."
She swallows, then rolls her eyes with a huff that carries more affection than frustration. "If my dad weren’t such a bore, he could probably arrange it." Her tone is dry, but not unkind, softened by the smile she casts toward her wineglass. "Still," she adds, glancing back at him, "we’ve both run bars, and regions. Surely we can handle one little pocket between worlds?"
At his fuck, the laugh that bursts from her is quick and delighted, her shoulders lifting in an almost helpless shrug as she watches him revel in the simple pleasure of taste like it’s sacred. She doesn’t rush to speak, just leans back slightly to admire the way wonder still lingers in his expression, subtle but sincere. Then, brows lifting with suggestive curiosity, she arches one brow and gestures lightly toward the menu. "Oh?" she echoes, her voice low and playful. "Well, by all means. If you’ve got a list, I say start crossing things off. Order anything you want."
you don't know that you're living til' you're carrying scars you're either falling in love or falling apart
liars and lovers combine tonight, we're gonna make a scene
"Mm, I thought so too," Neron says with a smirk. "Impeccable wine, cocktails that change with the phase of the moon, spectral waiters, you name it." Unlike Flora, of course, he's just enjoying the creative exercise, entirely unused to being around someone who so regularly makes the impossible appear before them. So when she mentions Remi possibly being able to achieve such a thing, he can't help but scoff. "Even if he weren't such a bore, I highly doubt he'd be in the mood to do me any favours."
And he will never be in the mood to accept them, but that's another issue.
Luckily he's far too distracted by the art of tasting to linger on that for too long, Neron already reaching for another cracker, this time with what he thinks is roquefort along with a bit of apple chutney. As Flora's gaze slides to the menu, though, his eyebrows raise. "Not everything I'd want to taste could be found on there," he purrs, smile slanting briefly towards something lascivious.
"And besides," he adds, breezily moving past that flirtation, "I wouldn't want to cross everything off the list and then have nothing to look forward to on a future visit. That being said, though, if you'd share a dessert with me, I won't be saying no."
Her eyes widen with theatrical delight as he spins the idea further, her grin growing with each new detail. "Spectral waiters," she echoes, one hand pressing lightly to her chest. "That’s perfect. They could glide between tables without ever being worried about spilling anything." Already her mind is painting it in full colour; moonlight cocktails that shift hue mid-sip, low music playing from nowhere in particular, velvet and candlelight and the scent of sea salt and smoke trailing through the air like memory.
When he scoffs at the idea of Remi being in the mood to help, she only laughs and shrugs, reaching again for her wine. "That’s fine. Vai definitely outranks him," she says breezily, her grin curling at the corners as she lifts the glass. "So if she likes you, that’s already two against one." She tilts her head in his direction, eyes narrowing just slightly. "Three, counting you. I think that’s enough for a ruling majority, even if Ronin tries to butt in."
Flora's gaze slips lower just as Neron's smile slants toward something darker, and though she feels the implied heat of it, she meets it with innocent defiance, lashes fluttering as she takes another slow sip. "Well then," she says, lips curving with wicked sweetness, "next time, maybe give Vai a list ahead of time. That way I can have all your cravings ready and waiting the moment you arrive."
She doesn’t press the moment, letting the tease hang like perfume in the air as she turns her attention back to the wine, swirling the pale gold liquid gently in her glass before glancing up at the mention of dessert. "Obviously," she says, helplessly nodding even before the words finish leaving his mouth. But her focus is already shifting as she subtly tracks the nearest server, catching their eye with practiced ease and lifting her brows in silent inquiry.
The moment she meets their gaze, her smile flashes wider, and she mouths the words dessert menu with all the gravitas of someone invoking divine favour. Then she turns back to Neron, utterly content as she takes another delicate bite from the board.
you don't know that you're living til' you're carrying scars you're either falling in love or falling apart
liars and lovers combine tonight, we're gonna make a scene
"Oh I see, I didn't realise there were social rankings at play," Neron says with a smirk, inclining his head in respect to the absent which. (Who still lowkey intimidates the shit out of him, but if Flora says she likes him - and she must, to have sought him out to bring him here for the evening - then he's not going to disagree). "If all goes well, then, perhaps next time you can come for a drink at my in-between bar. I'll call it Nowhere. Because that's always a great answer if anyone asks where you're going."
Taking another decadent sip of wine, which is even better the second time around he'll have you know, if he notices the way Flora doesn't quite take his bait, he doesn't comment on it. He does, however, scoff out a laugh at the idea of giving Vai a list. "You just said she liked me," he purrs. "I don't want to ruin that by writing down all my dirty little cravings and handing it to her before she lets me come to see you." For shame, Flora.
Watching as the Doubletake effortlessly summons a dessert menu, Neron resists (barely) the urge to finish his wine and order another at the same time. Instead, accepting the menu with a grateful nod, he flips it open and sets it between them, helping himself to another bite from their charcuterie board while he peruses. "Cherry pie, apple cake, chocolate sundae," he lists, smirking towards Flora. "What are you in the mood for?"
Flora tuts under her breath, the sound soft but pointed as she lifts one brow in mock reprimand. "This might be Caido and not wherever you came from, but yes, there are always social rankings at play," she says, voice dipped in playful scorn, as if the very idea of him forgetting that is somehow charmingly offensive.
But when he offers the name of his imagined in-between bar, her grin flickers wider, and she nods once with a quiet laugh that hums in her throat. "Nowhere," she repeats, tasting it like a rare vintage, letting the cleverness of it settle before giving a satisfied little sigh. "I love it. But I do notice how quickly it went from our bar to your bar." She raises her brow again, this time with mock accusation. "I see how it is. Just because you're dead you think you deserve full creative control?"
Still laughing, she drains the rest of her wine in a slow, unbothered motion, the warmth of it blooming in her chest and colouring her cheeks with an easy flush. Setting the glass down with a soft clink, she glances back at him, eyes glittering. "I seriously doubt there’s anything you could write down that would shock my Nonna," she murmurs, lips curving. "But now I’m curious."
She leans slightly forward, elbow resting against the table, tilting her head to the side with deliberate softness as her gaze meets his. "What sort of dirty little cravings are we talking about that you wouldn’t want her to see?" Her tone is low and inviting, not pushing him to answer, just coaxing the heat in the air to smoulder rather than spark.
As the dessert menu lands between them, Flora barely hesitates. Her eyes skim the options with ease before her finger taps lightly against the page. "Chocolate sundae," she declares, already reaching for another slice of cheese with the other hand.
you don't know that you're living til' you're carrying scars you're either falling in love or falling apart
liars and lovers combine tonight, we're gonna make a scene
"Oh, I do apologise," Neron says, pressing a hand to his chest as if to properly beg her pardon. "Though I will say that it's refreshing to hear as much. From what I got to see of Caido, it really didn't matter to all that many people. As someone who used to be a duke, it was quite an unpleasant wake-up call." And as she continues, he can't help but to raise his eyebrows.
"I didn't realise it was ever our bar," he says, laughing. "I assumed you would be far too busy being queen and running the bar on this end to have time to skip through the veil between life and death to check my taxes. Not that I am complaining in the least if you want to come and see me more."
Watching as she casually drains the rest of her wine from her glass, Neron promises himself he won't follow suit, but as Flora continues to prod at his list of dirty desires, the drink finds its way back to his lips all the same. "Perhaps after another glass of this, my lips will be loose enough to consider telling you," he purrs, setting the empty glass down and glancing back to the dessert menu, already feeling thoroughly warm and relaxed in a way he hasn't in many years.
"I was hoping you'd say that," he admits about the sundae, smiling toward a server to beckon them over. "One of these to share?" He glances to Flora to confirm. "And another glass of wine for each of us?"
Flora's lips part in theatrical surprise, eyes widening as she draws in a soft gasp like he’s just confessed to being a dragon in disguise. "A duke?" she repeats, voice rising with delighted disbelief as her lashes flutter. She leans in slightly, eyes narrowing with conspiratorial glee. "What did that mean, back in your world? Did you have lands? Elaborate family crests with tiny animals on them?"
She laughs, warm and easy, before rolling her eyes with mock exasperation. "You’re going to need someone to handle your liquor supply for one," she says, pointing a cracker at him like it’s part of her argument. "And you've already said you aren't sure what fashion choices you have available, so I’d say you’re going to need me for a wardrobe refresh too. I have tailors and suppliers. You have...black silk and questionable ideas about self-sufficiency."
Her smile curves sharper at the edge as he swirls around her earlier question, and she shakes her head slowly, brows lifting. "I didn’t take you for the shy type," she murmurs, voice dropping with playful disbelief.
Flora is just about to open her mouth to flag down the server when Neron beats her to it, and her grin turns approving as she lifts her now-empty glass in silent salute. "Read my mind," she says, pleased as anything, her gaze tracking the server’s movement before drifting back to him.
But then her tone softens just slightly, curiosity sliding beneath her words like a tide easing in under the dock. "You know," she says, drawing circles against the rim of her glass with one fingertip, "I wonder if my dad’s magic could work in reverse. If he can open the way from here to there...maybe I could visit you next time."
you don't know that you're living til' you're carrying scars you're either falling in love or falling apart
liars and lovers combine tonight, we're gonna make a scene
"A duke," Neron repeats once the server has taken their order and swept away again. "In Northaven there were several layers of aristocracy, and the only one higher than dukedom was blatant royalty. I believe Ronin was a blueblood back in his day as well - a baron?" He shrugs, neither remembering nor caring very much, to be frank. "The Launceleyn family had all of that at one time - lands, titles, and the little animal crests too. But of course when we went from Northwind to Northaven, we had to downsize somewhat."
Tipping his empty glass towards her as if submitting to her wisdom on the liquor supply front - though he wonders whether the fact that a lot of the patrons will be dead means it's all that necessary - but as Flora comes for his fashion, he can't not let out a laugh. "Absolutely no need," he assures her, gesturing to himself. "This is what I wear. The garments might change, but the colour doesn't. I am far too lazy to be bothered putting outfits together, and everyone looks good in black."
As for whether he's shy, Neron can only offer Flora a catlike smirk at that, sitting back as the server returns with two more glasses of wine for them. Once they are away again - and out of earshot - he leans in towards her. "Shy has nothing to do with it. I just wouldn't want to frighten you away on a first date," he says, voice dark and rich as velvet.
Reaching for another cracker and some more goat's cheese, Neron considers the idea of her visiting Mort's realm with a furrow of his brow as he chews. "Wouldn't that mean you needed to die, even if temporarily...?"
Flora blinks slowly at the question in Neron's tone, lips twitching like she can’t decide whether she’s amused or baffled. "I have no idea," she admits, shoulders lifting slightly as her brows follow. "Ronin and I didn’t exactly get along when I was younger, and...I guess as an adult, we’ve never really talked about where he lived before Caido." There’s a pause, quiet but not uncomfortable, before she glances sideways with a shrug and a crooked little smile at the mention of Northwind and Northaven, having utterly no idea what the connection between the words was meant to be.
But thankfully, there’s wine, and crackers, and Neron’s completely ridiculous take on fashion to soften the edges of unfamiliar names. "Surely even a Duke needs to change his clothes," she murmurs with a snort, reaching for another thin slice of cheese as her fingers trail along the rim of her new glass. "Even if it’s just to switch into the exact same outfit."
The word date has her faltering—not visibly, not in any way that might break the easy rhythm of their banter—but it settles in her chest like a pebble tossed into still water. Her smile doesn’t vanish, but it does shift, softening at the edges as she tilts her head slightly to one side. "I thought you were only here because Vai thought I needed cheering up?" she asks lightly, not quite teasing but not heavy either, threading humour through the truth.
She takes a sip of her wine; long, slow, grateful for the excuse to let the moment breathe before easing back into safer waters. "But anyway," she says, nudging at the thought he’d left dangling, "you’re not temporarily living, right? You’ve just been...let through." Her finger draws a lazy circle in the air, like the veil between life and death is just a curtain she might someday part. "So maybe it could work the same way in reverse. Maybe I wouldn’t have to die, just...visit."
you don't know that you're living til' you're carrying scars you're either falling in love or falling apart
liars and lovers combine tonight, we're gonna make a scene
"Well more fool him for not getting along with you. Proof that even a do-gooder soldier isn't all he's cracked up to be when the uniform is taken away," Neron says smoothly, clinking his glass gently against her own on the table before taking a sip of wine. "Then again, I suppose more has happened here in Caido than I could have ever imagined going on in Northaven. By now I bet I'd be boringly, unhappily married to someone, and my only entertainment would come from drinking at weddings and other gatherings."
Granted, he could have done without the pact with the Eirachi from his end, but beggars certainly can't be choosers when they land alone and frostbitten in an unknown world.
"Not when the Duke is dead and doesn't have a body he needs to put new clothes onto," Neron quips back, snagging a piece of apple drizzled in honey and grabbing a small cube of cheese to go with it. "Not unless witches put in a good word for him for the evening anyway. Perhaps I can come and change outfits next time." He smirks.
Speaking of witches, though, he tilts his head at the softening of her voice, his smile lilting towards something caught between debonair and devilish. "She said you were running short on prince charmings," he says. "I can only hope a duke can cheer you up just as well."
Looking down at himself as Flora continues - let through seems as good a word for it as any - Neron nods softly. "You'd think I wouldn't be corporeal if that were the case," he says, scoffing out a laugh. "I'm not going to think too hard about the specifics in case it makes me disappear entirely. But all that being said, I'm sure I'm not the only one who would appreciate you visiting, if it were possible."
