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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!
Making his way out of the council hall was always a relief, even if he had to make a few stops on the way home. It meant no more meetings and paperwork, an evasion and escape from the monotonous ends and means to his regional work – then he could round over to the barracks, check in on the soldiers, stride over to the market, pick up something for dinner, and return to the Ignatius threshold and his family before nightfall inched its way through the sky.
Zuriel and Belial awaited him the moment he closed the door, a long sigh and breath intermingling. “Made it,” he snorted as he patted at the unicorn’s neck and listened to the trill of the peryton, before inclining his head in the direct line of the warriors’ nearby. Ordinarily, he might pass by Safrin’s Mirror and linger by the springs, but for the present, long strides and his mind were dead set on particulars and necessities for the defenses of Halo.
Halo was colder than she was used to. But that didn’t mean she didn’t want to drop by and see the auroras that everyone always talked about - the spark of color in the sky that were breathtaking. It helps that the hot springs are here, named after her mother, and she’d originally wanted to drop by it before heading home to enjoy it when she realizes that she wouldn’t exactly enjoy it to its fullest extent if she wasn’t worn out by working out beforehand.
She’s in the barracks for this exact reason – studying Halo’s soldiers as they work, leaning against the wall and takes them in while they work, wondering if one of them would break away for a moment so she could slip in with a partner. She’s watching an attuned at the moment, sure she could take their space if their partner wanted to keep practicing.
But as she looks over and sees Deimos arrive, she pushes off the wall and turns toward the Warden with a vibrant grin. “Hey Deimos!” She chimes, her smile exuding sunshine and golden warmth.
Long strides quickly brought him from the office to the central portions of the barracks; a place close to his heart. The vibrant sounds of swords clashing and enchantments thrown around was one of his favorite forms of music and entertainment; alive with the semblance of abilities, strength, and vigilance. A serenade he was often used to, but delighted to hear nonetheless.
Before a chorus of greetings rose up from the soldiers, he had scarcely a moment to step near the armory; another chime presided close at hand, and his eyes narrowed, then brow arched, for half a second at the unexpected sound. While Belial and Zuriel took their normal places within the grounds, he took in the newcomer’s appearance with a muted air of confusion, and then returned his facial features to their normal stoicism, if a touch amused in the corner of his mouth. “Calypso. Did not expect to see you around.” The obvious inquiry lofting in his mind would be “what brings you here” but given the area, he could hazard a guess in that department. He went for specifics instead, then they could narrow down on particulars. “Are you looking for training?”
“I was droppin’ by. Heard your aurora’s were mind blowin’.” She chimes with a sunshine smile to Deimos’ comment – because yeah, it wasn’t like her to be here when she lived in King’s End, but she’s made the little pit stop so she might as well take advantage of everything she could. “Which they are, by the way.” She tacks on with a soft laugh. But as for why she was here in particular, he asks that question in a roundabout way that she appreciates.
Bobbing her golden head, her smile twists a little more cheshire like she has a whole plan of her day now. “I was, yeah. Wanted to go see Mom’s Mirror but figured I might as well work out a lil ‘fore I go and indulge.” She glances back to the two she’d been watching. “I was waitin’ for someone t’open up but it seems like they’ve all got partners.” Which is her roundabout way to ask if he wanted to join her. She’s positive she’d learn a lot from the Warden.
That the auroras were enticing individuals to seek them out again and again left him a touch amused, and perhaps pleased, though he hesitated on preening. Instead, he granted that wry wrinkle to his nose. “Thank you.” His eyes flickered back to those nearby, involved in their duels and contortions, but not to be outdone with one another, nor finished anytime soon by the looks of it.
Her insinuation was enough to make him snort though, and he arched his brow, glancing back her way. “I can assist, though it may depend on what you want to achieve.” Weapons, incantations, shifts…all accessible, but her particulars could sway proportions. Or, given his own inclinations and attempts lately, he could unfurl in other depictions. “I need to train with my fire, but I can do so defensively,” an offer of opportunities and considerations, a bestowal to not be sending the flames in her direction, and she’d be able to fling things around without much of a care.
A beaming smile flashes to Deimos as he says thank you about the aurora compliment, before she’s descending into the idea of training and her whole plan. And she hears as he glances back her way and explains that he can help though it depends on what. To be honest? She hasn’t fully thought that far just yet, so she ponders it with a purse of her lips as he explains he needs to use his fire.
“Oh, okay! Well, I’m no hybrid like my sister, but I’ve got my tide jaguar shift ‘n my sunstreak? Maybe we can practice my flyin’?” He can be defensive with the fire and it would ward her away enough to try and be creative in figuring out how to attack something or someone with her newest shift, trying to get behind any boundaries they might have.
So she peers up at the Warden with a sparkle in her amber gaze, wondering if that would be a good enough reason.
He’d known Calypso for her shifts; given the frequency in which she’d participated in their local issues, but hadn’t ever thought to ask about any incantations or abilities therein. No hybrid components like her sibling Nova made him curious, but then again, he hadn’t been the same as his siblings, and Erebos and Idalia would likely be different depending on multiple circumstances.
Nonetheless, it scarcely mattered; she had pinpointed necessities, and the training could coexist within defensive measures and streamlined purposes. “Works for me. We can head out back,” and he gestured with his jawline towards the courtyard with more open components rather than the closed-off walls and frames – places purposefully contorted and created for either shifts or enchantment vigilance.
Passing several others who were using it for the same goals and motivations, they could eventually wind to somewhere in the middle, and he took several long strides to grant and give them space for the incoming conclusions. “When you are ready.”
// So go and pitch your fit, no one gives a shit //
The sunstreak was the lesser known of her shifts, and Caly’s admittedly looking forward to testing it out with the Warden as he agrees. She perks up, her sunshine smile brightening as she follows the gestured jut of his jaw toward the courtyard – away from the bulk of tight quarters in here. So she nods, turning on her heel to head out to the courtyard.
As soon as they make it to the middle, Caly’s already shifting down into her golden avian shift with ripples of embers flaring from her wings that are entirely aesthetic rather than actually harmful, and as she spreads them to test them out, the young attuned takes a few moments to settle herself before she’s taking to the sky and circling to get a feel for the wind out here. Once she’s managed that, she takes aim with her talons outstretched toward Deimos’ head – positive she won’t get that far with the possibility of fire at his fingertips. But still, she’s gotta at least try.
Deimos recalled the sunstreak methods in earlier ventures – though those had been primarily about rescuing and booting a squatter out of a home. Not much for tactical means and measures, which meant both of them could be calculating endeavors and possibilities.
Arching his brow and waiting, he saw she wasted no time in applying a vibrant rush of talons. Standing amidst the domain, he took a long and slow breath, before intentionally trying to alter her course. The fire unfurled around him like a beacon, sharp conflagrations streamlined with all the destructive potential and ruin, but coaxed to chase her down, rather than consume – as if purposefully territorial, rising upwards to cease her movements, to make her stray, evade, and flee from the vicinity.
// So go and pitch your fit, no one gives a shit //
The fire unfurls will all the heat that she anticipates – though she can’t help the way the small squawk escapes her as she dives away from it, barely evading the flames as they reach for her with long menacing fingers. She zips away, turning back only when she’s satisfied it won’t be on her tail feathers and flaps a little higher into the air as she takes the Warden in again.
This time, she opts for a different means of attack – gliding high and dropping fast in a dive that has her aiming to swing in to the side of Deimos’ long leg, like she might be able to sneak in under the fire if she’s fast enough (even though she’s fairly confident she won’t be). It’s still an attempt nonetheless.
The initial defense did its work; inwardly amused by the squawk, all he’d had to conduct was a simple chasing off. In many scenarios, it would’ve served as a warning – here, it was a means of training, to see how far one could push or attempt before hastening far too much on endeavors and power. Deimos controlled and contorted these motions easily, as natural as breathing, but for those who’d never encountered such measures, it could be an overbearing, overwhelming juncture.
So he stayed much the same; not rampaging around, not hidden under cloak and dagger. Calm and stoic while Calypso decided how best to conduct herself, where to find the edges, where to strive and try. Swinging towards his legs was an intriguing concept, and he arched his brow briefly, letting the fiery tendrils stay the exact course – until she had moments to spare (in what he hoped would be another attempt to stray and stay away), and he ignited the same conflagrations to swing upwards from the ground, coming for feathers if she wasn’t careful.
05-26-2026, 10:33 AM (This post was last modified: 05-26-2026, 10:38 AM by Calypso.)
// So go and pitch your fit, no one gives a shit //
She can see it as it begins to flare from the ground up toward her, Caly shifts course, spiraling away just in time for it to nick one of her tail feathers leaving it in a stream of smoke behind her as the sunstreak whirls away – her fake sparks blending in with the heat of the fire almost as though it’s a part of them and not her own.
Trying to calculate how better to use this upward swing, she dives toward Deimos’ back now, sweeping up and careening back with talons outstretched, trying to snag the collar of the Sword. She isn’t anticipating that she’ll manage it with the awareness that Deimos has over his surroundings, but it’s worth a shot anyway. She has to at least try.
Calypso was smart enough to be dismayed and gone the instant the flare of fire flickered outward, though his brow arched at the stream of smoke. When he didn’t hear or feel any sudden sentiments of panic or pain, he presumed it was part of the sunstreak’s mystique, but he’d ask later.
He kept watch of her though, following the quick pathlines, wry amusement settling into his chest the moment she began calculating towards his back. Clever, he insinuated through the bond, for it was – oftentimes others were caught outright on the battlefield, incapable or too distracted from watching so many flanks and areas and reeling possibilities. He swerved to the right, feeling the talons brush lightly over his shoulder, before giving chase with sparks and embers again, letting them rise upwards like a fiendish wall.
// So go and pitch your fit, no one gives a shit //
She very nearly manages it, and in the attuned bond she can’t hide the delight that sparkles like sunlight in dew, beaded and brilliant as she veers away while Deimos slips up the wall of flame. The smoke of her tail feather has settled now, leaving just the traditional sparks of her sunstreak shift behind as she squawks contently aloud and through the attuned bond replies back with a chipper thank you!
Rounding back toward Deimos’ front, she tries to take advantage of his shift in position and balance to aim for his shoulder, opposite of the side she’d just rose from as if persistence was enough to wear one down rather than the slow bait and attack tactic she’s seen many other people do.
