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!
More scoffing laughter follows. Thal is the poster child for tackling a challenge or taking on a dare, but Colt might be crazier. She shakes her head, the amusement clear in her eyes as she raises a disbelieving eyebrow. "It's not a horse to break, Colt, it's a region." One that would require more work and hard labor than any livestock or ranch.
Thal falls silent when she speaks, her gaze flat and guarded to hide the bit of sympathy threatening to the surface. Having nothing to her name, nowhere to go, no one to rely on. Those are all things she can relate to, that she'd felt for years before carving out her own place in the world, and yet... Thal sighs, watching her blade flick through the lazy rainfall. "I get wanting to make something you're own, but Hak Etme? There are plenty of easier places to claim - ones that won't try to kill you." Not even the possibly lucrative drug business would be worth the effort.
Titling her head, she playfully accuses, "Are you running from something?" Why else would anyone want to move to the middle of nowhere?
The devil's always on my heels, but I keep him on his toes It might be the highway, and it might be these songs It might be the whiskey or the smoke inside these lungs
Colt had warned her it was crazy. Out of everyone, she figured Thal would know the shape of that best, but maybe that’s exactly why she’s the one to offer the most caution. Colt doesn’t back down from the challenge in Thal’s words. If anything, it makes her all the more eager to prove she can do it. ”I don’t imagine I’ll be doing it with a saddle and my legs,” she humors in return. Maybe everyone underestimates how thoroughly Colt can beat a thought to death in her own head. She’s been sitting with this idea for longer than this afternoon, but she recognizes it’s the first time Thalassa’s had it in her mind. Crazy does not mean reckless and ill-prepared.
Slipping her gaze across her shoulder to the blue of the ancient, Colt’s lips twist into something wry. ”What, you’ll take down all of Longheat, but think a desert’s impossible?” Maybe the difference is having something to stab, although Colt suspects she’ll be shedding plenty of blood in the process. Wild things don’t come under heel cleanly usually, least of all the violent monsters of the land. ”Most places are trying to kill you, even the ones that seem friendly,” Colt counters smoothly. ”Besides, I’m not getting out of the ranching business, just moving it, and starting a few other things in the meantime while it grows back to what it once was. The cattle do best on open ground and shitty plants, too rich and they ride, too dense and they die.” The desert had the perfect combination to suit all her needs.
Glancing back out at the horizon, Colt’s expression flattens at the little jab thrown her way. She tries to smooth out the immediate bristle, the one that rises when someone gets too close to a place she’s guarding. ”Who isn’t?” she wonders dryly instead, certain that most people in life have a thing or two they’ve purposefully put behind them. Certain that Thal herself has likely done the same, else why build her life around a vehicle?
”I don’t plan on doin’ it alone,” she adds, like there’s some more evidence there that she’s serious. ”Could use your skills, if you wanted to consider some dry land for a while. We will need a port built.”
Ain't no way around it, one day I'm gonna die If something's gonna kill me Might as well be what makes me feel alive
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
Crazy is a split-second decision to start a brawl fight with someone twice her size. Crazy is jumping from a cliff into the deep waters without knowing what lies below. Crazy is doing so impulsive and dumb that it could only have the best outcomes. But they're quick moments of impaired judgement, getting swept in the emotions or heat of exhilaration, damning the consequences for as long as that confidence lasts.
What Colt's suggesting isn't 'crazy,' it's insanity and Thal can't help the chuckles that punctuate every shake of her head, unable to find more than an unimpressive and lackluster appeal to the region that would take years to cultivate. She flips her dagger, catching it with a flourish that wraps it seamlessly through her fingers. "I think it's easier to stab a god than wrangle every grain of sand into submission." Flicking her tail, she adds with a shrug, "Takes a lot less time too." And Thal is not a patient person.
Despite her own opinions on the matter, Colt seems to have thought this through, and although Thal offers an unconvinced "Mhm" and raise of her brow (like recognizes like), it's none of her business why the rancher's latched onto this idea. If Colt wants to waste her time in the desert, she won't find resistance from the Captain. She doesn't much care as long as it doesn't involve her.
Until it does.
Her hand pushes off from the wet curb. She wipes it casually against the damp fabric of her black pants, considering the offer as she rotates her dagger back into her hand. Beneath the calm exterior, Thal tries not to let the gesture mean anything. It doesn't. Colt needs help with this insane project she's taken on, and Thal has manpower. There's nothing more to it. And she doesn't think deeper into it as she hums, sarcasm easily sweetening the amused snark on her tongue. "Hm. You think because I sail a ship, I know how to build a port?" Ignoring the fact that she has in fact repaired a port on one occasion.
Blonde hair falls around her head when she looks to Colt, waiting a moment before she says, "But I could maybe spare some time." She pauses, her smirk sharpening to a point. "What's in it for me?" What kind of pirate would she be if she didn't ask the question?
The devil's always on my heels, but I keep him on his toes It might be the highway, and it might be these songs It might be the whiskey or the smoke inside these lungs
A laugh breaks free in response to Thal’s comparison, loud and daring with it’s existance among all the other parts of her still trying to stay submerged. ”Well, I don’t need every grain. Some can stay wild. That’s the trick.” She offers a wink towards the ancient, her humor curling up into the tilt of her smile instead. ”Never want to break something so thoroughly that you take it all. It’s all about building a way to coexist and work together. A partnership with the land.” Although she does intend to be in charge of the work, same with the sand as the saddle.
A small shrug answers Thal’s question, but it’s not a dismissive gesture. Rather, Colt’s shoulders suggest that it doesn’t need to be any deeper than what it is exactly on the surface. ”Think you know a helluva lot more about them than I do. Especially which ones you like using, and which you don’t.” She has a point. Just because Colt rides doesn’t mean she could work the leather into a saddle, but she definitely knows enough to do a better job than Thal surely would.
A hungry shape creases her features when Thal offers and inch, and Colt fully intends to turn that into as many miles as she can. ”Besides a new place to tie up your boat?” Colt smirks, unbothered by the business talk. Time has worth, and friendship doesn’t erase the value of that. ”I’ll let you name it,” she offers, more joke than anything. ”Put a nice shiny plaque up in your honor.” She doesn’t mind the brass tacks, but it doesn’t mean she won’t give Thal shit for it. ”Or let’s say I owe you a favor in turn.”
Ain't no way around it, one day I'm gonna die If something's gonna kill me Might as well be what makes me feel alive
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
Rolling her eyes at the idealism and pointless clarifications, Thal flips her dagger carelessly in her hand. "How noble," she drawls sarcastically. Whether Colt intends to 'coexist' with the land or beat it into submission, it doesn't change the fact that it'll take months - if not years - of backbreaking labor. Thal would rather go bald. But maybe that's why Colt finds the desert more appealing.
Between the two of them, the Captain's opinion is certainly the one that matters, and if the rancher is determined to make that wasteland inhabitable, or even slightly appealing, she'll need the best damned port in Caido. Thal might not have the building skills necessary to pull it off, but she's opinionated enough to tell people exactly how and where to shove things.
It's only because Colt's obviously at the bitter end of whatever rope she's clinging to that Thal lets the 'boat' comment slide, sparing her the biting remark in favor of a scathing glance before the woman is actually presenting her with an offer. It's not the best she's heard. She can do without the meaningless glory or shiny plaques that'll eventually get stolen by people like her (unless she steals it first).
But a favor?
Her fangs flash bright between her widening grin. "I think I can work with that," she purrs. The tilt of her head sends droplets of water falling from her horns like crystals, eyes glinting with growing mischief. "When you jumping ship?"
The devil's always on my heels, but I keep him on his toes It might be the highway, and it might be these songs It might be the whiskey or the smoke inside these lungs
Completely unaware of the insult she’d let slip, not much of a mariner, clearly, Colt is all smiles as Thal and her metaphorical spit shake. ”So help me,” she begins to warn, a laugh already breaking it open. ”If you make me shave my head again I’m gonna drag you behind my horse.” Is there really any better sign of friendship than blatant insults and threats of violence?
She has never minded exchanging debts as payment, more than happy to pitch in for someone worthy enough to get an IOU. Normally, she doesn’t extend the offer to someone so volatile, safe to say she expects being summoned to fix an unruly horse or bake up some cookies for an important dinner. Thal could prove an interesting card player, but there’s almost an appeal to that which feels electric.
”Sooner than later,” she offers with a shrug, but it doesn’t hold, her rampant delight clear. For the first time, she’s sure that she’ll have an arm to link up with once she lands there. Well, beyond Wyatt. ”Want to get started before the season wears itself out, but I have some ends to tie up.” That ios to say, Colt hasn’t thought too much beyond sitting on these stones. Somehow saying, I wasn’t even sure it’d be something real until just now, just doesn’t feel like the motivator Thal needs. So Colt keeps that truth inside, even if she’s beaming from within at the reality that this… is happening!?
She'd need more help than a questionable dock maker though.
Ain't no way around it, one day I'm gonna die If something's gonna kill me Might as well be what makes me feel alive
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
Her smile turns sharper, a touch wicked at the edges of her dark laughter. "Why waste a favor on that when I can just win another dare?" There's no fear of the threat, thinking she'd like to see Colt try just for the fun of it. Maybe when she's bored she'll antagonize her into some real excitement they'll both regret later, but she's going to save this little favor for a rainy day.
More than familiar with the rush of movement dependent on the ocean's moods and subsequent tides, Thal takes the fluid nonanswer with another pointed flick of her dagger. She sheaths it at her side like stabbing a pen into a stack of signed contracts, her word the binding ink as she says, "Get the supplies over and shoot me a note. I'll be there." Although she won't promise Colt the port will turn out good, the work will get done with brutal speed and impressive diligence.
When she stands, the movement is punctuated with the snap of her tail, looking out to the spray of water. "Now come on. Wallowing doesn't suit you, but drinking does." Flashing Colt a suspiciously mischievous smile, she drags the woman to the nearest bar.
