Click here for a list of weather descriptions, seasonal festivals, and a real time:site time conversion.
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!
Surrounded by his father’s security, he swallowed down the initial panic, the confusion, the bewilderment. It took him more than an instant to sort through the semblances, what was his, what was this creature’s, blinking steadily at the fox, who seemed to simply do the same in return. Normal. Bonded. Companion. Erebos, to be worthy of something to this little thing. His heartbeat slowed to something restful, though his fingers still clenched around Deimos’ much larger arms, banked into the safety net of the Sword, peeking out over jackets and furs. “He’s mine,” he whispered, like something out of a young boy’s dream, once he figured out it wasn’t a nightmare after all.
The frost seemed to take a daring, bold step, muzzle coming outwards, snagging at scents. Erebos hadn’t opted for that brave route yet; mind still buzzing, listening. “A name? Um…,” and then he reached out, hand gently poised to softly stroke on top of the animal’s head. It stiffened, then seemed to enjoy it. “What’s that character in that story I liked the other night?”
He listened to the drumbeat of the boy’s heart lessen in its staccato, panicked edges, fumbling back into the calm, curious aspects of youth, of newness, of discovery. Loosening his protective edges a degree, he simply snorted, watched; another stately, stoic, and solid form to ensure neither Erebos, nor frost fox now, came to any vitriol, any harm.
Though the inquiry had him rolling his eyes. “May have to narrow that down.” What had they been reading the previous evening – his mind reaching amidst the cast of characters from the rewritten Outlander tome; long since left behind and absconded by Deimos’ inquiring mind, passing it along to anyone in the family who wanted a listen amidst bedtime hours. “Olivia, Sebastian, Orsino, Viola, Malvolia, Feste…,” he couldn’t imagine Erebos setting his heart upon dubbing the companion any other minor forms. Wrinkling his nose, and waiting for the judgment to be perused, then passed, he conjured another deep rumble. “We will have to find a place for him.” With the conspiracy that this had been purposeful, the Sword had no doubt the youth had already managed to think of potential spots.
Deimos
and we save each other over and over, a hundred times, endlessly
The apprehension turned to excitement, the spark of hope and fervency reverberating through the pulsing fringes of bonds and fortitude – his grin widening as reality continued to come into play. The frost fox rose underneath his outstretched hand, clearly delighting and liking the scratches on its head, granting an icy yip thereafter when vying for more. But Erebos listened, or tried to at the very least, when his father rumbled an answer, mind trying to go over the shape and image of those characters. Impulse chose in the end. “Orsino! I like that.”
As for the other statement, he did already have a place thought over and mulled through. Unaware Deimos and Evie had held a prior conversation about this very topic (and how many animals were beginning to outnumber people within the Ignatius household), he turned his head upwards, granted a cheeky grin at his father form his tilted framework. “In my room, of course! I can get him a bed! And water and food!”
The Sword’s gaze settled on this newfound Orsino; nothing stern, nothing solemn, but perhaps a warning, a brief command that he’d heard through Attuned adornments. The young fox looked at him, eyes a bit bewildered, but there was a subtle nod embedded, an understanding; and then Deimos was snorting, dropping his head down on top of his son’s again. “Hm. Someone has thought this through,” as only a tease; his preferences would always linger in overpreparation as well. “How about we get you and Orsino home, and then see what we can rustle up?” Introduce him to the other bondeds…watch them all run around the house and then get kicked outside to rampage their energy elsewhere…
Picking the youth up so they were all back on soil and terrain, he laughed as the rest of the foxes dispersed wildly; either unbothered about their compatriot being snagged or not wanting to behold the same fate.
[FIN]
Deimos
and we save each other over and over, a hundred times, endlessly
