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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!
run, baby, run, run for your life i'ma tear out your heart, it'll always be mine
“Mm, I can certainly try.” He drawls a little half hum, just as Danta continues the perfect explanation – wiggling, glittering fingers and all included. “And how does that work for you, darling?” He asks with an amused smirk as he brings the tray back over, setting it on the bed before he slips under Danta’s blanket to share it with him and selfishly continue to remain just as close. Draped around both of their shoulders, the butcher peers at the tea and the little card of a label that came with it, head tilting slightly as he reads it while Danta plucks a cookie from the tray.
Setting it down to pick up the second card with the other tin that came with options, he snorts a little and leans toward his lover. “We have choices. One is essentially a spicy chai and the other is a vanilla, caramel, and apple.” But he collects both cards to flip them toward Danta so he can see the tarot style designs on each of the tins with amusement. “The chai is called Blood Magic and the latter is called The Nightcap.” Holding them out for Danta to choose which he’d prefer, the butcher will get ready to prepare a cup for him.
"It doesn't work for me at all," Danta says sweetly, "and people can pry my shinies from my cold dead hands." All of which is to say fine, Asta and his wagging tail and his need to stick his nose in everything is acceptable as well, he supposes. Continuing to munch on his shortbread finger bone, he helps to drape the blanket over Asta as well, his free hand dropping to rest gently atop his knee as he considers their options.
"Hm... I think I'll take a Nightcap, actually. We'll perform Blood Magic in the morning, what'd you think?" Grinning, because the more they stay here the more he can get behind the lingering theme of the place, Danta offers out an antler cookie for Asta to take a bite out of, considering it quite fitting. "Speaking of which, morning can't be that far off now..." Not that they can really tell with the way the rain is continuing to drum down overhead.
Dantalion
No runnin's gonna save you now
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
run, baby, run, run for your life i'ma tear out your heart, it'll always be mine
“Mhm, that is what I thought.” He grins, all sharp teeth on full display – deepening the wrinkles already formed on his face, but the grin is wide enough to reveal the dimple on his cheek. Just one, of course, because two would be simply too perfect.
Warming up with the hand on his knee and the blanket draped just right, he sets the cards down with a quiet chuckle. “I think you have a deal, darling.” Glancing over toward his lover with a glitter of amusement in his gaze, he reaches for the tin of Nightcap, opening it to find perfectly sectioned out satchels of tea so there wouldn’t be a use for the steeper. Plucking one from the tin and setting it in one of the mugs – this one designed in all black and red with white little ghosts dancing up the sides – he drops the second into his own mug, a near mirror image of Danta’s but rather than it have white ghosts, it’s fully red with little black shadows dancing around the outside. Then, pouring the tea in to let it steep, it steams nearly immediately upon hitting the cool ceramic of the mugs. “Morning can be whenever we wish it to be, darling. It will still be dark and dreary outside even if the sun rises.” He laments, as if he’s so over being wet lately.
"Not a deal - perish the thought. I know better than to make those with you," Danta purrs, voice laced with playful chiding, and he reaches out automatically to let his fingers ghost against Asta's cheek, as if noticing the youthful dimple there for the very first time. "But we do have an agreement," he adds with a wink, like there's an important difference, and he doesn't want the other man to think he doesn't want that Nightcap.
Glancing down at their mugs as Asta prepares the tea (and biting into the antler cookie himself, since the other option is to stuff it into the butcher's mouth), he snorts under his breath at the mugs. "Do you think even the bathroom is spooky?" he asks, lifting his little ghost mug to admire it while the tea brews. "A bathtub tentacle legs and a Medusa mirror?"
Dantalion
No runnin's gonna save you now
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
run, baby, run, run for your life i'ma tear out your heart, it'll always be mine
“Mm, a shame. The last time you made a deal with me it worked out in your favor, if memory serves.” He touts a little proudly, tilting his head into Danta’s touch ever so slightly, accepting the agreement for what it was. It still got him the result he wanted, so he can’t really complain that much.
The tea begins to steep and he gladly takes the antler cookie once Danta’s taken a bite out of it, smirking slightly as if to say impatience is unbecoming. Either way, he takes the cookie and leans in toward Danta to take the bite of the cookie, relishing in the sweetness that floods his tongue from teeth that carve through the cookie with absolute and utmost ease. “Ooh,” he pauses once he’s swallowed down a bite. “If it does not, perhaps we could make a fuss for a refund.” He suggests, head tilting slightly to butt his head against Danta’s own disheveled blonde. There’s no horns to worry about with his glamour still up, which leads to the playful gentle obnoxious attention the butcher provides.
“Perhaps the shower curtain has spiders and webs all over it.” He muses in return. It seemed fitting enough to have all kinds of spooky things everywhere.
"It did," Danta agrees, "but I would also hazard a guess to say it worked out well in yours, too." Winking and giving him a gentle elbow to the ribs as if to say nO uR uNBeCoMiNG, he releases the cookie and concentrates instead on his tea, glaring down at it as if to encourage it to brew faster. The expression softens to feel Asta nuzzling against him, drawing a warm laugh from Danta's throat, and he turns his head to sneak a kiss or three against the butcher's cheek.
"You would be the type to make a fuss to get a refund," he drawls. "If you tried it, I'd look forward to standing by and watching as the spirits kicked you out." Because he bets they fucking would. And when it comes to the shower, he hums a note of curious possibility, before his impulsiveness wins out and he sips at his tea regardless of whether it has properly steeped.
"We should check before we leave," he decides. "Since we already had a fire bath."
Dantalion
No runnin's gonna save you now
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
run, baby, run, run for your life i'ma tear out your heart, it'll always be mine
“Oh it did, very much so.” The butcher purrs softly, ignoring the elbow to his ribs to instead indulge in his obnoxious nuzzling – the soft little head butt that has a few dark hairs straying away from where his horns usually kept it all behind. Both of them disheveled and utterly handsome in spite of it, the butcher hums a content note to feel the warm press of his lips to his cheek – turning just in time to catch a kiss to his lips before they part.
He doesn’t expect Danta to agree that he would be the type to throw a fit to get a refund, though, and he laughs a bit louder and full of surprise even as he bides his time to respond by devouring the last portion of the antler cookie (once he’s dipped it in the tea of course). “You agreed to that far too quickly, darling.” He laments, though the smile on his face is bright where it’s tugged up at the corners. “And I suppose if I did make a fuss – which I may not, mind you – I would have to be okay with losing my little look alike in the window.” A dramatic whine passes his lips with it as he focuses on his tea. Taking out the satchel of tea when he thinks it’s steeped enough, he pours some of the mix-ins in until he’s content with the result, lifting it to cradle in his hands and take a sip.
“I am still willing to look, however.” He tacks on, just in case Danta thought he didn’t want the gossip of what kind of macabre finding they might have within the bathroom they have yet to explore.
"I suppose we'll just have to wait and see," he says of Asta's making a fuss, Danta fully expecting the butcher to lose his nerve by the time they actually get to leaving. (Mainly because the place has actually been nothing but perfect to them since the moment they walked in). "For what it's worth, though, if they do take down your little voodoo doll in the window, I would like to take it home with me."
Not for voodoo, of course. Danta wants to dress it up in cutesty outfits and put it behind the bar.
"Then I look forward to looking," he adds with another sip of tea, finally fishing out the teabag from the mug with a finger as well, though of course he keeps it plain unlike the butcher. Surprising himself, then, with a sudden yawn he has to hide behind his hand, Danta at least has the decency to seem puzzled by it. "Did they put sedatives in this?" he wonders, scowling into his cup.
Dantalion
No runnin's gonna save you now
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
run, baby, run, run for your life i'ma tear out your heart, it'll always be mine
“Oh, and for what purpose might you wish to have a little doll of myself?” The butcher asks, though he can guess. A few different results that are far different than simply dressing it up with random and different outfits for each passing day to watch from the bar like he might be able to come through the doll into real life.
He sips from the tea with a low hum of agreement that greets him, making a mental note of all of the things the butcher and the Maverick need to do before they could leave. He plucks another piece of the shortbread designs, this one a rune shape, that he dunks into his sweet tea, indulging the sip more so after he devours the portion of cookie. “Mm, did they?” He asks, tilting his head to look at Danta fully, trying to read whether or not the tea finally has dragged him into a space of trying to sleep.
Not that he can blame Danta for wanting to avoid it. “Perhaps I need to offer more stimulating conversation if I am boring you.” He tilts his head, offering the suggestion out with a glint of amusement as he leans back into Danta’s space.
"So many things, Asta," Danta whispers with a fiendish grin; because whilst he knows he only wants it to play dress-up and display it to the Dusklight patrons, a wicked mind can conjure up endless possibilties for a little dolly of the butcher. "I wouldn't want to kiss and tell, though, so you'll just have to wait and see." He winks. "I do wonder if someone here sticks pins into it sometimes, though - maybe that's why you wake up aching some days."
Absently grabbing another bone cookie despite not really wanting it, Danta is still frowning into his tea as if trying to spy or taste the hidden medicine, eventually offering a little shrug to the other man. "You know you could never bore me," he says, smirking and nibbling at his cookie. "But if I do fall asleep by mistake, I'll do my best to keep my flailing to a minimum."
Dantalion
No runnin's gonna save you now
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
run, baby, run, run for your life i'ma tear out your heart, it'll always be mine
The whisper is akin to a near maniac’s answer. The fiendish grin and the amusement that fills within is one that the butcher snickers softly, unable to truly come up with how many scenarios the Maverick might have when it comes to having his own Pocket Size Butcher in hand. “You know… That would truly explain a lot.” He muses playfully, going so far as to set his cup of tea down to reach for the spot in his back that always seemed to twinge just the wrong way.
Picking it back up, he takes a hearty sip of the tea before leaning into Danta’s space to snap a bite of his bone shaped cookie as payback from the previous nibble of the antler. “Flail away, darling. I make a very nice punching bag, as you know.” He smirks, sitting back and looking at Danta with amusement glittering in his honey gaze.
He shifts the tray away and helps them settle back in against the headboard of the bed amongst the pillows and the rest of the blankets in case Danta does decide to fall asleep – whether willingly or unwillingly. And if he does, the butcher will be ready for the nightmare that likely would come. After all, it's usually what happened with him and the corvid exposures of his past.
Tittering to himself and offering out the bite of cookie willingly enough, Danta soon finishes up his snack and his tea as if drinking it quickly might chase away the sleepiness. He's wrong, of course, especially with Asta shifting to let them relax back among the blankets and pillows, the Maverick shooting him a playful glare as if he's betrayed him by letting him get comfortable.
"The last thing I want is for you to get more bruises," he complains, settling with his head tucked into the crook of the butcher's neck. "You just about got over the last ones." Smirking, he slips an arm around the other man with the intention of watching the fire and continuing to chit-chat until the light changes outside enough to tell them the sun has risen.
And in Danta's mind, that's exactly what he's continued to do - right up until things take a dark turn.
In reality of course, he's dropped off to sleep within minutes of tucking himself against his lover, emotionally exhausted and still at least a little tipsy, such that he's dead to the world for quite some time. Not forever, though - within a couple of hours he's starting to shift fitfully in bed, expression flinching between fear and pain, his glamour unfurling to let his tail lash irritably across the bed.
Dantalion
No runnin's gonna save you now
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
run, baby, run, run for your life i'ma tear out your heart, it'll always be mine
The betrayal that blooms in Danta’s face is immediately taken as a jest when he sees that familiar handsome wrinkle to his lover's nose, however brief it might be with the way he fits himself in against his chest and his neck. His arms wrap around him easily, too, keeping him close and letting him settle, offering idle chit chat until the tell tale sound of Danta succumbing to sleep fully takes over.
It’s easy for the butcher to stay awake, surprisingly. Angled just perfectly to peer out the window that the curtain remains open in, watching streaks of rain that pour down the side of it like little tears. And in between that and the press of the Maverick against him, he’s busy scanning the panes of his face, the sharp edge of his cheekbone, the rise and fall of his chest with the deep breaths of sleep.
He isn’t quite quick enough to move them in time for Danta’s glamour to return, and as soon as it’s shed one of the prongs of his diamond horns snags against the pillow with a quiet little rrrrrip! spilling a few feathers down in amongst the gold of his hair.
The uneven breaths and the lashing tail have him immediately loosening the tight hold he has on him; knowing intimately that in many of these dreams, it’s him that’s the cause. And not just him, either, but the boxing and caging him in, pinning him into place. It’s the last thing he wants to do should Danta wake now, but he’ll face every consequence he needs to in order to still keep him close.
His hand makes a smooth stroke against his shoulder, not pinning or cornering, but a soft and gentle touch paired with the low hum of “you’re okay, darling. I promise.” His accent is thicker, closer to the Whitebrim variant of the butcher, and Asta has taken all precaution into dragging each and every portion of his haunt into himself so he doesn’t wake up to smiling shadows.
A soft whimper breaks from Danta's lips as he shifts within the depths of the nightmare, trying to cringe back from some invisible, towering force but simultaneously seeming frozen in place by his own fear. Asta's touch causes him to flinch at first, as if feeling something entirely different in his subconscious, and even as a few feathers get caught in his hair the movement causes the pillow to rip further.
Only the unexpected timbre of the butcher's voice has him falling still, chest still rising and falling rapidly, hands clutching at the blankets, at the air, at Asta even, as if searching for something that might help. Every part of the Maverick is held tense now, either expecting or enduring some long forgotten pain, and the rough, quiet moan that tears from his throat is half formed around the word stop-- before he's lost again to it.
Dantalion
No runnin's gonna save you now
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
