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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!
Remi flinches despite himself, the reaction small but honest, because even wrapped in humour Mateo’s words carry an undercurrent that still knows exactly where to bruise. He draws in a quiet breath as Ronin speaks, nodding once in agreement, and when he looks back at Mateo and Flora there is nothing guarded left in his expression.
"You both mean far too much to us." His gaze lingers between them, unhurried, as if he wants them to hear every word exactly as it is meant. "We are not willing to risk what we have for something we might have. Not ever." Not ever again, anyway.
He swallows, shoulders easing as if naming it aloud has taken some of the weight with it. "If this conversation goes no further than this deck, on this afternoon, then that is alright. We already have a family we love. Anything more we would only consider if it didn't cost us that."
Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
01-08-2026, 02:28 PM (This post was last modified: 01-08-2026, 02:29 PM by Mateo.)
Mateo
Champagne, cocaine, gasoline and most things in between
Mateo listens, quiet and intent at a judge, as both of his parents plead their cases. It's raw and unguarded and the exact sort of thing he desperately needed to hear when he was younger, and it hits him as a low gut punch that has his eyes flicking away. His gaze lands on Flora, on her dramatic and unyielding support, and it's with a prang of overwhelming love for his sister that he realises this refusal might all rest on his shoulders. And gods, whatever he thinks - whatever kind of parents Remi and Ronin had been when they were growing up - there's no denying that they've been trying to make up for it ever since.
They're still trying now, especially now, by putting this choice in their hands.
"Well," he says slowly, his voice a little gruff as he picks up his punch and downs the rest of it, "if you do decide to give us a fratello or a sorella, they will not end up like us. Will they?" It carries the weight of a threat, that last question, and he glances back between his fathers. "Not only because you are going to do right by them this time, but because they will have us. And we will make sure you know if you start to mess this up."
I roam the city in a shopping cart a pack of Camels and a smoke alarm
Flora catches Mateo’s look and answers it with a quick, conspiratorial wink from the side of her face their parents cannot see, a small flash of solidarity tucked neatly between heartbeats before she turns her attention back to the group at large, expression already smoothing into something brighter and sharper.
"Pffft, speak for yourself," she says immediately, waving one hand as if batting the notion away. "I turned out wonderfully, and that is despite being borderline abandoned and actively hated as a child." The words themselves are unapologetically blunt, but she softens them with a flutter of her eyelashes and a crooked little smile, the kind that says she knows exactly how pointed she is being and is enjoying it. "I'm truly a miracle when you think about it."
She shifts in her chair, the sun warm against her skin, gaze flicking between them with a thoughtful wrinkle of her nose. "So, what? You are going to go and make a baby in King’s End, then? In the babypatch or whatever?" Shifting, she'll roll her eyes at Mateo before lowering her voice conspiratorily, saying, "bet you anything they'll ask you to water it within the first week."
The rumors are terrible and cruel But honey, most of them are true
01-08-2026, 02:42 PM (This post was last modified: 01-08-2026, 02:43 PM by Ronin.)
even my darkness shines for you
The permission comes like a slap to the face, blunt and unsteady enough that Ronin is still reeling and trying to decide whether Mateo has approved when Flora is calling herself a miracle and talking about watering their babypatch kid. Ronin blinks a couple of times, then does the only thing a person really can do in this situation - he laughs. "I... you're both miracles," he agrees first and foremost, smiling foolishly between them. "But yes, of course we're going to do right by them. And I wouldn't expect it any other way."
In fact, he has a feeling that for however much of a leaf on the wind Mateo can be, at the first sign of trouble he'll be the one coming in swinging.
"And I... I guess that's what would happen?" Ronin glances at Remi, still too thunderstruck by the entire conversation to even have answers to the what now? aspects of it. "Luckily, I think we are the ones that need to water and take care of it, so you are off the hook." Something tells him the botanist might check their work anyway, though.
Remi finds himself nodding along almost dumbly as Mateo speaks, not just because he agrees that Flora and Mateo would change the shape of any future simply by being there, but because it feels profoundly unwise to do anything other than agree with his son when his voice carries that particular edge of promise and warning all at once.
When Ronin looks to him, Remi answers with a look just as uncertain, a quiet mirror of I can't tell if this is going well, before he gives a small shrug. "We have not planned that far ahead," he says honestly, lifting one hand as if to ward off assumptions before they can gather too much momentum. Then he adds, deliberately, "Intentionally."
He exhales, shoulders easing a fraction as he goes on. "We were not thinking about anything more than having this conversation with you." His gaze moves between Mateo and Flora. "That was it. Whatever comes after would only ever come after this."
Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Champagne, cocaine, gasoline and most things in between
"Mm, you may be a miracle, sorellina, but you are not a dream come true now, are you?" Mateo can't help the smile that tugs at his lips at the easy way Flora continues to emotionally hold him steady, handing out hard truths and gentle support in the same breath. And he realises she's utterly correct in her point - she did turn out wonderfully, whatever part their parents did or didn't play. Feeling his shoulders relax a fraction - and raising his eyebrows at the idea of watering their new sibling - he glances back towards his fathers.
Remi's words land this time, striking true, and though Mateo's jaw tries to feather against it, the pleased smile that crosses his face entirely gives him away. "Thank you for thinking of us," he says quietly. "I hope it does not need to be said that we do not need to hear the gory details about the... babypatch, was it? But... let us know when to expect to hear crying from the Northaven, yes?" Whether that's from the baby or their parents.
I roam the city in a shopping cart a pack of Camels and a smoke alarm
Flora’s mouth drops open in exaggerated horror, the reaction so theatrical it borders on performance art, before it melts immediately into genuine delight. "Rude Mateo," she protests, leaning over to swat her brother's shoulder with the back of her fingers, laughter bright in her voice. That he was quite literally correct hardly mattered.
She wrinkles her nose dramatically at the mention of the babypatch, lifting her glass as if in defence. "Hard agree," Flora adds, shuddering just a little for emphasis. "We do not need details. Ever." Then she tilts her head, eyes narrowing thoughtfully as another concern clicks into place. "And maybe also, like, fence it off or something?" She lifts her glass again in a small, decisive toast. "Safety first."
The rumors are terrible and cruel But honey, most of them are true
Slowly, Ronin's pulse has started to quieten into something more resembling a genuine heartbeat, and as he watches their children verbally spar with all the love and theatrics expected of any siblings, let alone Taliesins, the smile on his face is reflected in the soft radiance beginning to shine out from him. "Sorry," he says sheepishly, clearing his throat.
"We should do this more often, whatever happens in the future." He can't say he's missed them all being together like this, because it's only in their adulthood that it's been possible, but it's something he'd like to become regular. Instinctively he reaches for Remi's hand, and the feelings that warble through his magic will be opalescent and scattershot, a pride that comes not only from growing their family, but at seeing how incredible it already is.
Lifting his own glass in a toast, he scoffs out a laugh at Flora's (very good) point. "Right, yeah," he says. "Maybe with a sign, too."
Remi’s hand closes around Ronin’s without thinking, fingers lacing instinctively as if anchoring himself to something solid while his own heart continues to thunder on, no longer with nerves but with the startling, open possibility that this is not just hypothetical any longer. After all these years, after everything, they might really be standing on the edge of another beginning, and the weight of it sits warm and heavy in his chest.
He lets out a low groan and drags his free hand back through his curls, the gesture equal parts disbelief and dawning acceptance, before reaching for his drink and taking a long sip. "Well, to be fair," Remi says with a crooked little chuckle, eyes flicking between Flora and Mateo, "we have never really had to worry about protection when it comes to having children, before." He gestures vaguely between himself and Ronin. Being gay took care of that nicely.
The humour softens as quickly as it comes, though, and he nods once, earnest again. "But yes. We would absolutely make sure nothing happened," Remi adds, voice steady and sincere despite a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Champagne, cocaine, gasoline and most things in between
Smiling victoriously to himself as he's called rude, like Flora has just stamped him with a badge of honor, Mateo takes a noisy slurp of his drink and leans back once again into the late afternoon sunshine, letting the warmth play across his cheeks. "Still too many details," he says pointedly to Remi as the Bastion begins talking about the merits of protection and the Taliesins' lack of need for it, as he sits up again it's with a dimpled grin nevertheless. This feels natural again now, and so as he tilts his head suddenly to Ronin, he doesn't try to hide the amusement in his voice.
"I know all of this was very exciting, but I think you might be letting dinner burn," he tells his father, nodding towards the interior of the Northaven where the mahi-mahi might be little more than cinders by now. Not that three quarters of the table is likely to care, but Ronin will probably be devastated if that's the case.
I roam the city in a shopping cart a pack of Camels and a smoke alarm
Flora wrinkles her nose immediately and lets out a loud, theatrical huff at Remi’s mention of protection, waving one hand as if trying to physically push the thought away. "Ewuhh," she declares firmly, eyes squeezed shut for a beat in exaggerated suffering.
She then leans forward and gives an ostentatious sniff of the air, as though she might somehow catch the scent of burning fish through sheer force of drama alone. Her brows lift high as she looks between her parents, judgement sharp and gleeful all at once. "Oooooof," Flora says, stretching the word as she tilts her head. "How are you two going to manage a newborn if you can't even manage dinner?"
A snicker escapes her before she can stop it, and she lifts her glass to finish the last of her gin punch in one satisfied go, settling back in her chair.
The rumors are terrible and cruel But honey, most of them are true
The warmth and content drain out of Ronin's expression in a heartbeat as his children remember dinner a beat before he does, the Knight's eyes growing comically wide. "Oh fuck," he blurts out, standing with enough force to send his deckchair toppling back. "I got it!" Whether or not that's true remains to be seen, of course, but Ronin hops over the chair and back into the houseboat with the kind of agility only he can manage with that disgusting DEX score.
Moments pass before he declares, victoriously, "I saved it!", though his husband and children, he's sure, will be the true judge of that. The mahi-mahi isn't cinders, at least, though perhaps the edges are a little more flavourful than they ought to be. Regardless, it's edible enough that the rest of the evening passes without complaint; only the comfort of family and the small, budding hope of something new.
