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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!
Even the windswept hills and dales cannot escape Tanau's touch. Breezes that ought to cool and soothe instead burn and blister, rushing like the exhaust of a furnace to lick dry tongues on sweaty skin. And though copses of trees offer briefest respite, the majority of the Barrows are unprotected, open to the searing glare of the sun and the scorching heat of the summer squalls.
Calla's limbs are leaden and heavy as she trudges her way through the grasses, Lucifer a shadow at her feet. It is two hours past midday and thus deep in the worst of it, and she is very much wondering whether or not she ought to have left her bed this morning. The Last Step is a welcome sight indeed; with an eager laugh Calla sheds her pack before collapsing into the shade beneath the stairwell, face burrowed into her arms, her sides heaving from the exertion of her walk.
Sticky and tired and unwilling to move, she allows herself to lie a minute in the relatively cool grass. The wind ruffles at the fabric of her lightweight overshirt, almost soothing where it kisses the sweat on her bare legs and thighs. "It would be lovely if you brought some water," she remarks aloud, though neither Luci nor the spirits show any sign they've heard or particularly care. The cat has climbed higher up the stairwell, slinking into a shady step, and the dead are characteristically unperturbed by their caretaker's plight.
On her way back towards New Haven, Nova is her usual explosion of bright light and laughter, with the added benefit of sparkling water droplets. She hums and skips through the billowing grass, her glittering pink dress fluttering to show off the purple spiders sewn into the fabric. Each wears a different hat. There's a red bowler hat, a dapper top hat, a neon orange beanie, a white cowboy hat, and more creative variations of the accessory, topped with a wine spider perched on her shoulder in a yellow sunhat, clutching tightly to her.
Nova throws her arms out, leaping through another crystalized mist with a playful giggle. Frozen bits catch in her blonde and magenta curls, layering over the white stars that scatter her cheeks, better than any iced drink or cool shadow, the refreshing breeze of magic fighting the flush of heat threatening to paint her skin red.
Jumping to a sudden stop, she gasps, starlight glittering around her excited expression. "Look Jeff! A cat!" She hops up the stairs, eager to pet the pretty kitty. Energy radiates from her in waves, errant magic swarming her vicinity like a storm of enthusiasm. Her eyes glow with anticipation as her arms stretch forward, wanting to feel if the fur is as soft as it looks.
Calla considers getting up before deciding it's too much work, opting instead to remain in the dry grass, her arms a shield against the sun. The heat lays heavy as a blanket upon her prone form, and she's started to doze off when a buzz of activity draws her from her sleep. There's a muttering among the spirits, some warning, some amused: someone's coming, someone energetic and very, very alive.
Outside Calla's comfort zone, in other words.
She tenses, nervous, waiting for the other person to pop out from around the stairwell like an overzealous spook. But instead there are footsteps on the stairs above her, and then a bright, eager voice, and oh, no. Scrambling to her feet Calla darts out from the shadow, calling up a warning: "Oh, wait, I wouldn't--!" But it's too late, and Luci has already coalesced from a silken shadow to a prickly beast, a low growl rumbling in his fluffy chest, his violet eyes narrowed as he licks his lips, clearly wondering how spider might taste.
The soft fluffy kitty turns into a bundle of spiky fur, a rumbling growl hitting her before she gets close enough to run her fingers through the cat's pelt. It doesn't look very soft anymore anyways, but Nova does not appreciate the rude reception. She gasps, bouncing to a stop on her step to place a hand against her chest. "That's not very nice!" Fangs peek from her own lips, an offended hiss expressing the hurt feelings at being rejected.
A thread of Attuned magic coils in her, one she pokes in quiet chastisement before raising her head to turn around. Her eyes immediately catch on a figure she hadn't noticed before, a young woman who looks very concerned for some reason.
Blinking, Nova's mood shifts back, glitter and snowflakes falling around her like a tiny flurry of her own making. She clasps her hands behind her, rocking onto the balls of her feet to sway the sparkle of her dress. "Oh! Hi! I'm Nova!" Beaming a smile, she lets out a giggle. "Nice to greet you!"
Yes, well, if Luci could speak he'd inform Nova he didn't much appreciate her rude approach. His ears flatten at the sight of the human's fangs, ready to duel his challenger over who's the dominant cat. Then at once he seems to grow bored, as though Nova has fallen beneath his notice. With a final hiss the cat dislodges himself from his step, slinking upwards and out of sight around the winding stair.
Which is as good as things could have gone, given how temperamental the beast can be. Relief fills Calla at the conclusion of hostilities, only to surge back swiftly enough when attention is turned to her. The blonde descends in a flurry of snow and sparkles, chill air rushing over the Keeper and setting goosebumps upon her skin. And then there's the voice, like soap bubbles in sunlight, and it's all so much, and Calla has to take a step back lest she be overwhelmed.
"I'm... Calla?" Feeling immediately stupid (obviously she knows her own name), Calla blushes fiercely before clearing her throat and trying again. "Nice to, um, to greet you, too?" Not a phrase she's immediately familiar with, but then, she doesn't spend much time among civilized society. Maybe it's a thing in the magical land of wonder and glitter where this faerie creature surely hails from.
Lifting one leg, Nova half floats, half hops down from the step. Her blonde and magenta curls drift around the glittering smile she wears, Jeff clinging to her shoulder with the movement. "Calla?! Cool!" Although not nearly as cool as 'Nova' or 'Jeff.'
The air around her shimmers, the damp breeze giving her cheeks a light glaze that has her star freckles nearly glowing. She leans closer to Calla like she can share her excitement through pure proximity. "What were you doing under the stairs? Is there something fun down there?" Tilting her head to peek around the woman, she searches for signs of anything sparkly or bright that might have enticed her to spend time hiding from the sunshine and beautiful flowers of the day.
Okay, this girl is definitely some sort of otherworldly being - what else could explain her graceful floating, her ethereal-yet-violently-aesthetic, and the rest of her overall vibe?
Calla's eyes grow impossibly wide as Nova wafts even closer, carrying an aura of cool spring air. Again the Keeper takes a step back, her cheeks aflame beneath freckles and dirt. "We-- I-- shade?" And now shes babbling, words leaving her brain like the butterflies she would chase as a girl. Her heart beats like a butterfly, too, Nova's excitement reflected and warped by the fun house mirrors of Calla's mind. Valiantly she tries again, inhaling a deep breath of air made bracingly brisk by Nova's personal AC. "I was resting. I've been working all day, and it's... it's very hot."
Okay, that went better. Feeling a little more confident now, Calla goes as far offer the beginning of a smile, extending a hand to catch an errant flake of Nova's snow. "I imagine you aren't hot, though. Not with this. It's a really neat trick. Pretty, too." Her expression grows wistful as the snow melts away. Must be nice to have that kind of ability. Her magic has never been useful for anything other than hearing voices and slowly going insane.
"Oh! Shade is good!" She isn't fazed by the stutter or the blush of embarrassment when she's looking more at the dark underside of the stairs than the woman inches in front of her. If it were up to her, Nova would have picked a prettier place with shade. Maybe a tree or gazebo somewhere?
Finally looking back to Calla, there's an intense interest in her eyes, shimmering bright with curiosity. "What were you working on? Anything fun?" And depending on the answer, can she join in?
Nova spins, admiring the frost drifting around her head. "Thanks! I like how it sparkles in the sunlight!" Her magic swirls a little faster, sweeping against her cheek and into the curls of her hair as she shows off the ice and illusion twisting in the wind. "We can share!" Leaning slightly closer, the magic expands, encompassing Calla in a gentle cocoon of refreshing air. "Do you have magic?"
01-18-2026, 02:46 PM (This post was last modified: 01-18-2026, 02:46 PM by Calla.)
C A L L A
Nova's eye contact is a lot, and Calla finds herself forced to glance away, heat rising back on her neck despite the aura of frost. The fae girl seems to lack any sort of self-consciousness, which is just as well because Calla has more than enough to spare. "I, um, I look after the Barrows. Make sure the graves are clean, the offerings are done correctly, the Daemon aren't hunting- that sort of thing." She says this with a hint of pride, a smile curling, unbidden, against her coral lips. It's never occurred to her that people might find acting as a caretaker to the dead anything but noble, and Calla is the Caretaker.
It's gotta be worth at least as many Cool Points as the ability to make girlypop snow.
Her gaze catches on the hem of Nova's dress as she twirls unabashedly, a tableaux of colorful, behatted spiders dancing merrily around her knees. Her nose wrinkles as a trail of snow kisses gently against it, looking around in no little wonder as flakes settle into her dark hair. Distracted by it, she's turned away when Nova asks her question, responding at first with "Hmm? Oh, uh. Yeah."
She tucks a stray lock behind her ear before looking up again, her chocolate eyes widely earnest as she says four words 90% of millennials have quoted at least once in their life: "I see dead people."
Leaning forward with all the force of a stormfront breaking, Nova wiggles her delight. "Oooh. I've never seen a Daemon! Are they scary? Do you have to fight them off? I bet that's soooo fun." Her head tilts like she might bring Calla's gaze back to her (or put her face in front of where she's looking), waiting impatiently to have her questions answered. If there's something fun to find or do, Nova wants in, and this sounds like something fun.
But not as fun as seeing dead people!!!
Nova gasps, the air around her shimmering at the revelation, like an exploding star creating a whole new world in her mind. She grabs for Calla's hands, bouncing with the force of her excitement. "REALLY?! THAT'S SO COOL!!" Then she's jumping into questions, the words practically rambling together in a string of curiosities. "What do they look like?! Can you talk to them?! Is it all dead people?! What about dead animals?! How do you know they're dead and not magic or spirits?!"
"What? No! They're not scary - well, they are if you try to fight them! But mostly they want to be left alone to grieve." Alarm widens Calla's eyes, causing her to gesticulate as she adamantly shakes her head. She has a very clear image of Nova charging off in a swirl of glitter and impulsivity, directly into some poor spirit that's just trying to mourn in peace. Even odds on either of them winning; all she knows is it won't be good, and will leave the Keeper with even more work.
Shoving her fists onto her hips, Calla glares up at Nova with all the authority she can possibly muster and commands in a mostly non-wavering voice: "So do not try to fight a Daemon! It is not fun!"
This message conveyed (though she fears on deaf ears), Calla's feeling even closer to something like emboldened. Alas, it all collapses like a house of cards as Nova comes back in like a bedazzled wrecking ball, her flurry of questions coming so rapid-fire that the Keeper can't keep track. "Uhhhh..." she falters, visibly deflating as she shrinks back into herself, arms now wrapped around her chest.. "I, um... I don't really..."
A shadow flashes from the steps above them and suddenly Lucifer is standing there, tail thrashing stone and violet eyes gleaming as he glowers down at Nova. His ire is motivated less by concern for Calla's mental state and more by annoyance that it's now bothering him, and that he cannot abide.
The outburst has her head tilting, blonde hair shifting away from her ears like she might hear better that way, like it might help her understand the explanation a little better - although she's not nearly as interested when Calla is refusing her excitement with excuses of things like 'grief.' Nova shrugs with a glittery air of nonchalance, content to maybe consider the advice if she ever comes to encounter a Daemon. She does dare to question the basis of the knowledge, curiosity brightening her tone. "How do you know? Have you fought one?"
Her other list of much more entertaining questions is interrupted by the flicker of a tiny shadow over her cold, shimmering atmosphere. It doesn't dampen her mood, although a twinge of annoyance darkens her gaze for the briefest of moments. Instead, she sticks her tongue out at the cat and turns to Calla, eyebrow raised as she asks, "Why's he so grumpy? Is it the sun? Does he want snowflakes too?"
[Sayl"Have I--? No!" Incredulity spreads over Calla's face. Has Nova listened to nothing she's said? "I haven't fought one, because I don't have to, because nobody has to if they have a modicum of common sense!" Something Nova is clearly lacking in.
She can hear the chattering interest of the area's spirits, their restless natures natutally drawn to any sort of conflict, but for once Calla ignores them. Any chance of deescalation evaportates when Nova turns on Luci, then turns back to Calla with such flippant dismissal that the girl sees red. Indignation curls like smoke from her ears as she glares at Nova, her fragile tethers snapping all at once. "He's grumpy because of you!"
It's not quite a shriek, that would be terribly undignified, but her voice is certainly raised. She can see the ghosts now, flickering around them like kids cheering on a playground fight. 'Stop that, Calla!' the memories of voices tattoo in her head, but they are drowned out by the eager ghosts. Their anger flashes in her eyes as she glares at her new nemesis. "Y- you are rude, and, and loud, and have no sense of personal space, and, and... and we'd rather spend the whole day in the sun than see another one of your stupid snowflakes!"
The outburst freezes Nova in place, not having expected the timid woman to raise her voice, or for her to have been the cause for the cat's annoyed mood. She falters a moment, the shimmering starlight and snowflakes around her flickering like a glitch in reality, a flinch at having been accused of bothering the creature when she doesn't remember doing anything mean.
But the shift lasts only a millisecond, Nova opening her mouth and leaning forward like she might point out how he hadn't been very nice from the start. Only for Calla to push on, having found her voice along with some very hurtful opinions.
For the first time in a very long time, Nova actually shrinks, deflating with every blow. Her larger than life attitude is battered away by the words, each insult landing clean and deep. 'Rude.' 'Loud.' 'No sense of personal space.' And one she adds on her own: 'Too much.' Her shoulders fold in, attempting to protect her from the barrage of scrutiny by this stranger she'd only just met. Like a black hole or a concussive blast, her magic suspends between them, frozen in time and space while Calla says her piece. Then it sucks in, a vacuum of magic and emotion pulling it back into her veins where it can't be seen, where the stranger can't touch it. Even Jeff curls closer, trying to escape the confrontation as much as the heat.
Nova doesn't hide the pain well, looking very much like a kitten that's been kicked. Tears glisten in her eyes while she wraps her arms around her middle, a pout forming where there had been brightness and laughter. Now, she just looks like a young girl, dim and plain, and much too fragile for this world. But she doesn't fall apart completely, fingers pulling tighter at the bright pink fabric of her dress as she raises her head. "Fine! You don't deserve my snowflakes anyways!" She tries to look tough, tries to put anger in the pout of her lips, but the small tremble gives them away as she turns to leave, hurt shining bright in her blue eyes.
