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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!
And when that sky rains fire on you And you're persona non grata
When Nina turned around, it was to find Deimos and Erebos returning, their own purchases in tow. Still keeping an eye out for Marcus, the Keeper held out her spoils to the youth. "I may have bought one in every color," she said seriously, though her eyes sparked with an uncharacteristic mischief. There was little that would excite Nina like the prospect of fire, and being able to set fire to things that sparkled in myriad hues? Well, that sounded positively wonderful to the Keeper.
Still, she looked at the crowd around the stalls and realized that lighting sparklers here could very well be hazardous (if not for her or those close to her, thanks to her magic, then to the celebration at large). "Come," she said imperiously. "We must find an open space to light them. I am eager to see the colors." As they moved on, she considered the boy's question. "Perhaps red?" she suggested for Marcus. "Do you know Marcus well? Perhaps you should choose his color."
I'll tell you how I've been there too And that none of it matters
Genuinely, Melita had hoped this current festival would end with more bonfire and things being setting on fire, etc. But everything seemed relatively calm, amidst all the glamor and sparklers and food; enough to keep her appeased. Pondering over obtaining a drink and maybe collecting some more food to bring home before she vanquished the scene, she laughed at Aithne’s insistence. “I’ll let you know how it goes.” Since really, she wouldn’t want anyone else hanging around while she handed it over to Iskra (and subsequently maneuvered away; in case of the confetti and glitter) – given she didn’t know how he’d react. Not with some of the more personal bestowals laden within the box.
Glancing over at the Ancient’s drink, she looked at the vendors again. “How’s the wine?”
Briefly amused at Nina’s own indulgence, Deimos wouldn’t say anything on it regardless. One knew he spoiled his own – given how many of his coins had gone to Erebos’ purchases. Still, he tilted his head, curiously inspecting the wares as the Keeper of the Flame offered them for scrutiny. Intrigued by her mischief in those aspects – because she’d always seemed serious, stoic. Perhaps a reflection of her youth, or that they weren’t enclosed in home; a little more freedom to be one’s selves out of their natural element.
Still, he was almost half-inclined to not be commanded or directed though; an initial, stubborn balking that relented at Erebos’ excited face. Having no dog in the fight of hues and colors for Marcus, he granted a shrug as they began to move again, nudging at his son playfully as they rounded through crowds and closer towards the bonfire itself.
The avaricious little part of him had thought about snagging one in every color as Nina had done, but it also wasn’t his coin, and while he could admit to being spoiled, he also knew better. Still, it was a wondrous sight to behold as he stared at the Flame’s token wares, mouth rounding in delight and enthusiasm. “The best idea!” Clutching onto his green one’s dutifully, as though they needed to be protected, he maneuvered along at his father’s urgency and antics, giggling lightly as the hellhound’s head pushed him towards a more open area.
As for Marcus’s color, Erebos couldn’t help but shrug. He didn’t know Marcus very well; the older individual had goaded him for some strange reason, but Noah’s son wasn’t unfriendly. If the youth was a vengeful sort he might’ve suggested something horrendous; for now, he gave forth an amiable agreement. “Red or blue, maybe.” Like the flare of Halo or something.
Marcus took the paper-wrapped sweet with a murmured thanks and a few coins. Syrup soaked through the bottom almost immediately, sticky against his fingers. He bit in and welcomed the bright rush of sweetness, the way it cut cleanly through the sour knot still lingering in his chest. He walked as he ate, angling back toward the bonfire’s glow. Each bite steadied him a little more, grounding him in taste and texture instead of thought.
Chew, swallow, step.
Repeat.
Heat built as he drew closer to the center. Marcus slowed, watching offerings arc into the blaze, listening to prayers half-spoken and half-sung. For a moment he let himself simply exist among them without expectations, no missed timing, just another body in the shared orbit of firelight.
A darting figure moving towards another sweets stand caught his attention, and his heart knocked against his sternum with a fluttering shake. It was Nova. Relief flickered, small but genuine. He lifted his free hand and waved, syrup-glossed fingers and all, a crooked, hopeful grin following a heartbeat later.
Listening as Zavien explains the strangeness of the group he’d fallen into, Thorn squints out to try and get a better view of the whole ordeal that’s going on, only to swing his attention back to the Risen Sun with a bright and shiny smile of excitement. “Hell yeah.” He leans over enough to bump his shoulder against the Accepted, before he settles down to take a sip of his drink again. “I’ve been good. Been busy, but what else is new.” He shrugs, before a slightly somber tone overtakes him. “I’m sorry ‘bout Stormbreak, by the way.”
A frown blooms on his face with the comment, because it felt like not that long ago that they’d gone to repair the Tower when it seemed like it was all for nothing. It wasn’t, though, he’d heard the rumors that it landed in Torchline’s sea, so at least that’s something to potentially look forward to. Either way, he opens the floor up for the other man to talk about if he wanted to or to change the subject.
He grins, letting Hawthorn's bump jostle him a little more than necessary before slowly righting himself again. The continued busy-ness of Thorn's work comes as no surprise, and Zavien lets out an amused laugh. "True," he says it with a smile, leaning into the humor and lightheartedness of the conversation.
But sympathies momentarily interrupt that, the sweat dripping down his back turns nearly stifling from the reminder of the recent loss. His smile shifts to something softer - sadder. Looking down at the glass in his hands, he speaks gently, accepting if not tinged with a hint of grief. "Thanks. Me too." Sighing, Zavien raises his eternal optimism to his friend with a warm and compassionate expression. "At least no one got hurt in the fall." There's plenty more to be upset about, but at least his people had made it out, and they'd have a chance to start a new life somewhere else.
Eager to keep things light, he chuckles and adds, "Maybe now I'll finally get a chance to visit the House of Midnight."
02-19-2026, 12:40 AM (This post was last modified: 02-19-2026, 12:40 AM by Aithne.)
I salute you if you're much too much to handle
Eager to mix and mingle with the crowd - and perhaps join in the dancing - Aithne nonetheless lingers a bit longer with Melita, chatting about the gift that the demigod has apparently yet to bestow. When the focus shifts to her drink, however, Aithne shrugs. "It's wine," she says. She is not, after all, a particular connoisseur, though she has enjoyed her share of the beverage. All she really knows is that she prefers red to white, and this is as crimson as fresh blood.
"Wonder what else they have?" she adds, looking around and craning her neck towards the vendors to see if there is, perhaps, something more interesting amongst their wares. There is all manner of food items, of course, which they have already partaken in; and sparklers and other such goodies that Aithne may well investigate shortly; but she cannot see very far past the crowd, and promptly gives up in favor of simply enjoying her drink.
Aithne
Minor powerplay allowed without permission.
Feel free to use force/magic on Aithne.
The water was the first thing the hunter noticed, and he quickly made sure he got a full glass down his throat, then filled it a second time. Noah lowered himself into a chair with a quiet exhale, the shade wrapping around him like a fragile mercy. Even here the heat lingered, pressing against his skin, but it no longer felt like it was clawing down his throat. He reached for a cup of water, the condensation cool against his palm, and drank deeply before answering, trying to let some of the tension he felt fall away.
"I have." He said with a nod. “Just once before." It was after Tanau had been awakened and the world remembered him, so his festival came back to life and was no longer memories written in history books. His gaze drifted beyond the canopy, toward the distant flare of the pyre visible between shifting bodies. The roar of it carried even here, softened but constant, the heartbeat to the festival.
He rolled the cup slowly between his hands, the coolness grounding. After a pause, he added more gently, "You picked a brave first experience." He smiled this time, looking back up towards her bright blue eyes.
Even as Wren slipped away from the cluster of voices, the festival seemed to cling—music too loud, laughter too sharp, the heat pressing in like a second skin she couldn’t peel away. She moved toward the food stalls, barely seeing what she passed, the bright colors smearing together into something indistinct and dizzying.
Those eyes, and everything they held behind them.
The thought returned without permission. It threaded through everything, tightening her chest until each breath felt shallow and deliberate. Her fingers drifted to her hair again, and she wished she had sleeves to tuck over her hands.
For a moment the ground didn’t feel steady. The crowd pressed too close, strangers’ shoulders grazing hers, voices overlapping until the words lost meaning. Someone laughed nearby and the sound made her flinch. She couldn’t stay here.
She didn’t think. Thinking meant remembering, and remembering meant that man’s face. And her eyes. No, his eyes. No, her eyes. ahead, there was a skyship. Wren climbed aboard before she could second guess herself, slipping past with the quiet invisibility she’d learned since waking up in the clinic. There was no destination asked. None offered.
And, frighteningly, she didn’t care.
Wren out!
Here I am, a rabbit hearted girl Frozen in the headlights
the sun inside of her rages like wildfire and she is gold, gold, gold
Grinning at her sister, Caly dips toward the honey cart – the vast majority of it warm and infused by the heat of the Climb, but thanks to a flare of magic and an ice box, there’s frozen honey placed within it – and just before her sister’s tugging them through the crowd to get to it, the young attuned snags her sister’s hand back. “Right above the jars!” Caly chimes, urging her sister to look up from the cold honey jars for the popsicles and candy on display right above it.
Honey lemonade popsicles and a chewy appearing tube of frozen honey that looks more like taffy than it does anything else. “Oh I’m so gettin’ a popsicle.” It’s her turn to tug her sister closer, beaming at the vendor the second they’re done battling the crowd to get up front so she can order the lemonade popsicle and whatever her sister would like.
By the time she's done with the cheesecake vendor, Thal has nearly wiped out their stock. She has a fork sticking out from her mouth, a delighted hum flowing from her lips as the splash of lemon cheesecake coats her tongue. Her tail flicks slowly behind her, making her pleasure more obvious than the upcurve of her lips. Overall, she's enjoying herself a lot more than she expected to, and she's content to wander the festival with her new treat.
Music flows pleasantly in his ears, her now empty fork reaching for the full plate she carries. This time, she takes a bite of the cherry cheesecake. Spotting the eyes of an attractive man, she drags the tangs across her fangs and throws him a wink, the red of the berries lining her lips. Her smile curls sharper, seductive. Oh yes, she's enjoying this very much.
Her eyes snap to where Calypso points, gasping with delight at the chilled display of hanging treats. They practically taunt her with their deliciousness and she rushes them forward faster, pushing past a few people who are too slow for her liking. She bounces up to the counter, practically shoving glitter into the vendor's face as she waves to the choices dangling above. "Ooh ooh ooh! I'm gonna get the funny tube!"
Once the man gathers their selection and hands them out, Nova spins them around, arm clasped in Caly's while she immediately shoves the thick elasticity of frozen honey into her mouth. It still sticks to her teeth, but the chilly temperature keeps it from drizzling down her face in a messy display of delight. Groaning, she offers it to Caly's face. "'ere! Thwy mine!"
Only then does she notice Marcus across the festival. A honey slick grin appears on her lips when she waves her frozen honey his direction, wondering if he'd come say hi so he can meet her sister.
Marcus couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him when Nova spotted him. It slipped out easy and unguarded, despite the sting he had felt before when he was abandoned in the crowd. But the sight of Nova, bright-eyed, half-bouncing, already sticky with sugar and enthusiasm, felt like a sudden shift in gravity, pulling him out of his own head and back into the living present of the festival.
He lifted his hand again in a clearer wave, finishing the last bite of his syrup-soaked treat before wiping his fingers against the crumpled paper. He tossed the paper away in a bin, then started toward them, weaving through the crowd with renewed purpose.
Nova’s grin was infectious, honey glossed and unapologetic, and the frozen treat she waved at him looked equal parts absurd and delicious. His crooked smile deepened when he reached them, his gaze flicking first to Nova, then to the girl beside her (Calypso). He straightened slightly, the easy warmth still present but tempered with polite curiosity. He wondered if she was one of Nova's siblings that she thought were the best. “Hey. I’m Marcus.” He would have normally extended his hand to greet her upon introduction, but he remembered they were still sticky from his own sweet treat.
Then, glancing back to Nova with a soft huff of laughter, he added, “Looks like you found something good." with amusement threading his tone as he nodded toward the frozen honey.
