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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!
your touch brought forth an incandescent glow, tarnished but so grand
Having used her compass to return back to Torchline, though the waters of the fountain were mighty tempting given the scrapes that had bloodied her arms, knees, and even her cheeks and forehead—not to mention the way her ribs still hurt with every breath—Flora's feet led her in an entirely different direction; away from the healing fountain and down toward the docks where she was sure to find a certain ruggedly handsome pirate smuggler. Besides, she knew Jack had healing water in his cabin, so it wasn't as though she was forgoing healing herself entirely just to see the captain.
Hitching a ride in order to make it to the port that much faster, as soon as she stepped off of the wagon the Doubletake sent mental fingers stretching out, each one writing out Jack's name in looping affectionate cursive letters. One benefit of having a telepath for a boyfriend was that once you got close enough, you never really had to look for them. Assuming the captain was somewhere within 40ft, not only would he feel Flora's fingers silently trying to prod at his magic to get his attention, but he'd be treated to the sugary-sweet rush of her success as well which would, she hoped for his sake, drown out the warble of pain she felt with every breath.
Alas, Flora, Jack has been at this game for a long time now, and however sugary sweet the affection that suffuses her thoughts and however rich the bloom of her success, he can absolutely pick out the needles of pain beneath it all. Nevertheless, all that is to say that she successfully gets his attention, the good captain having been dealing with a little bit of business some distance down the docks, but not too far from the ruddy red sails of his ship. And as soon as Flora comes into range, Jack is making his excuses and peeling himself away from the conversation, seeking her out through the crowd like a dowsing rod.
Dressed, naturally, in the coat tailored specifically to him by Flora's rather handsy acquaintance in Haulani, the black leather has been left open to show the midnight blue shirt he wears beneath, the garment billowing in his wake as he approaches her from behind. "I s'pose congratulations are in order, love?" He drawls, slipping an arm around her waist to draw her back against him, head tilting ever so slightly to take in the scrapes and bruises. "No casualties, I take?" None that she cares about anyway; that's what he assumes from the flavour of her thoughts.
"This calls for a drink, I reckon. Your place or mine?" The Hanged Man certainly has a better selection of liquor, but his cabin has the benefit of some healing water. And a bed. And a lock on the door.
11-16-2024, 07:34 PM (This post was last modified: 11-16-2024, 07:57 PM by Flora.)
your touch brought forth an incandescent glow, tarnished but so grand
One day it might be an interesting experiment for Jack to see just how far away Flora could be before he was aware of her. Sure, his magic only a reach of 40ft, but the Doubletake's presence extended far past that. Could the impression of the queen travel from mind to mind such that the captain could track her movements from a distance? Assuming of course she was doing something worth taking notice of, which...she almost always was.
But anyways.
A brief rush of adrenaline proceeds Jack's voice hitting Flora's ear—so close to the Ark it'd be foolish for anyone but the captain to try and put their arms around her, but you never knew—before the neon bubble of warning bursts, revealing the gilded landscape of her thoughts. Leaning back immediately against Jack, her sigh of relief and affection a poor mask for the pain cramping at regular intervals through her mind (those intervals falling perfectly in time with her every breath), Flora's smile nevertheless lights up her face as she tilts her head back against his shoulder. For all it had taken to make her way down toward the docks, gods but it felt good to have his arms around her.
Most of the blood on Flora's cheeks and forehead had dried, though the cut on her upper lip was just reopened thanks to the force of her smile. "Gentle," laughing, Flora begins to twist in Jack's arms before thinking better of it, and instead remaining just where she was. "Why? Did I do something incredibly impressive?" She purrs innocently, before letting her head loll softly to the side in order to nuzzle the bridge of her nose against Jack's jaw (ouch, the stubble on his chin certainly wasn't well received by her scrapes). "Definitely yours. I did come all the way down here just to drag you back into town."
Raising his eyebrows - Flora is the one who has reopened the cut on her lip, so perhaps she's the one who ought to be gentle - Jack nonetheless stills his movements, allowing the Doubletake to fit herself against him in whatever way keeps the thorns of her aches and pains at bay. "Oh, I don't know about that," he drawls, wry as ever, the hint of a smirk starting to curl up the corner of his mouth. "Haven't heard anythin' on the grapevine about it, at least." Because of course Flora has beat herself to her own rumours.
Inclining his head (into her nuzzling, at it happens) and releasing her to gesture towards his ship nearby, Jack dutifully obliges. "I trust you're still able to walk to the deck unassisted?" He grins. One might think he'd sweep her dramatically into his arms to carry her up to The Ark's main deck if that wasn't the case, and it's not entirely incorrect. Someone will carry her, but it won't be Jack, and he doubts Flora will appreciate a member of his crew having their face so close to her cleavage.
your touch brought forth an incandescent glow, tarnished but so grand
Flora might have been the one to split her own lip (though arguably Jack was the reason for her smile), but he'd soon feel that it was his hands around her waist causing her the most distress. Beneath her mulch-stained clothing thick lines of purple and black were already starting to erase the golden colour of her skin in looping arcs around her waist and ribs. "Well then what are we celebrating?" The queen counters playfully, and though she's loathe to step out of Jack's arms—the lingering smell of the sea, tobacco, and copper that clings to him feels like home in a way she hadn't realized until having been surrounded by it after once again strolling into danger only to immediately run back to him—she's just as keen not to have to struggle with every breath.
As for being carried? On the contrary. Flora would happily have a member of Jack's crew be treated to a face full of her cleavage—it seemed only fair given how much of her shit they put up with—but even thinking of being held that tightly had Flora wanting to gasp against the phantom pain of it. "I'll manage." Rolling her eyes affectionately, the queen crinkles her nose before making a faster than normal beeline for the gangplank and then Jack's cabin, her hips swaying a good deal less than they otherwise would have.
On the way she fills Jack's mind with the highlight reel of what had happened: the usual suspects had gone to the Greatwood, immediately Noah had been targeted (which, lol), before suddenly she was the one at the mercy of the Mathair, finding herself bound and coiled against her trunk. Not necessarily mentioning the way both of her daggers had missed or how her first prayer with Tal had 'only' called down Safrin, instead the queen's thoughts skipped to the dramatic conclusion where she channeled down Rae, who went and freed the Mathair and put the entire thing to a stop. Pausing only so that Jack could unlock his door, Flora tickles a hand up his arm before slipping inside.
"And you'll never guess what I managed to do after that."
"Your return home, no?" Jack fires back as quick as you like. "You didn't have to be successful to get home again. Though somethin' tells me you were." Automatically his hands have grown more gentle, barely skimming against her body until those flares and fireworks of pain grow more distant. And then they're gone entirely so they might head towards his ship, the captain raising his eyebrows over his shoulder at her as if tucking that information away for later. He's sure his crew will be delighted.
With his hands tucked in his coat pockets and an eye kept on Flora as if to make sure she doesn't topple over and plunge into the cool waters below, Jack soaks in every bit of information she wants to give him about the Greatwood, the void and her associated shenanigans. "You were busy," he drawls, impressed, glancing sidelong at her as he smoothly unlocks the door to his cabin and lets them inside.
Shrugging out of his coat as he goes and hanging it on the back of the door, the captain heads to one of his shelves and gets down what Flora will know as the good whiskey, as well as a decanter of cool, clear water for her. Pouring a shot of one and a glass of the other and offering her both, Jack raises his own whiskey in a cheers. "However will I keep my suspense in check?" he says dryly, grinning and knocking back the liquor.
11-19-2024, 12:42 PM (This post was last modified: 11-19-2024, 08:57 PM by Flora.)
your touch brought forth an incandescent glow, tarnished but so grand
"I'm always gonna come back." Flora counters as if her efforts in the Greatwood followed by the ability to traverse the entire continent in just a blink was nothing much to sniff at. One might wonder if or when the Doubletake's luck would run out, but for now her thoughts were all gilded by her own particular brand of confidence that had everything seeming attainable and within her reach.
"A little." Grinning at Jack's silhouette—his new coat not escaping her notice—pain keeps Flora from properly appreciating it or the captain as he shrugs out of it, and instead has her reaching first for the glass of water despite the whiskey on offer as well. "You ruin everything," the queen huffs, her thoughts already revealing what she'd otherwise have kept a secret and demand that Jack pry out of her. Alas. It's all there for his perusal: the way Sah and Noah had offered polite thanks when the Mathair had asked if they expected a reward, the gamble Flora had taken, the mageglass that was potentially now within their reach.
Taking a healthy drink of fountain water, Flora lets her tongue brush across her lower lip to heal the split there, already able to feel the ache around her ribs beginning to ease. "Help a girl out?" Given how dirty her clothes were Flora would have wanted to peel herself out of them regardless, but as she took off her top, Jack would be able to see the thick bruises around her waist that banded up around her ribs, disappearing beneath the line of her bra as if she'd been bound and left to hang for hours. Reaching for a cloth so that the captain could apply the water directly to her skin, only then does she reach for her own shot of whiskey, happily downing it. "Pretty please?" Fluttering her lashes at Jack like he might need some convincing, already the cuts on Flora's nose and forehead were beginning to close, leaving only freckles of dirt across her nose and cheeks.
"Y'know, you've been in enough weird scrapes an' walked out of 'em, I'm almost inclined to believe you," Jack says around a smirk, setting down his empty whiskey glass and scoffing out a laugh that he accompanies with a breezy shrug. "Guilty," he says, of ruining everything, because it's quite impossible not to when you're a man with Jack's set of skills. Surprises and hidden gestures are lost on the captain, though as Flora thinks through her secret, his expression turns rather more thoughtful.
"All the things you could've asked for, and you went for mageglass for me?" He tilts his head, sweeping forward to help her remove her top and accepting the cloth so he can douse it with healing water from the decanter. "Your pleases are always pretty, love," he drawls, tipping her a wink before starting to sweep the cloth across her skin in surprisingly gentle strokes, following the pulse and shiver of her thoughts.
your touch brought forth an incandescent glow, tarnished but so grand
Jack's tone catches Flora off-guard for a moment, the Doubletake having forgotten the captain's habit of reacting to her thoughtful gestures with near instant skepticism. "Yeah, but..it was just being selfish." Had Jack been wearing her truth-ring, he'd feel it warm against his skin; not that the captain needed a ring to know when Flora was lying, of course. Still, she could tell him all sorts of lies that he could then wrap around his cynical nature to soften its edges. "I mean, what else would I ask the Leafchange goddess for?" The queen wonders with a casual shrug. "This way, instead of having you drag me to go see Safrin and having to complete some silly quest to remove the mageglass blockade, now it's just done and I can save my Safrin time for me."
If that was more palatable for the captain, then he could ignore the way Flora's mind had only been tempted to ask for something for herself for just a second (a healing item, which given how battered she constantly seemed to find herself would have been wise), before the mageglass idea had gripped her so strongly that she'd put herself right back at the Mathair's mercy to ask for it.
Though Jack was able to do it in almost any conversation, it always sent shivers of something both hot and cold racing up Flora's spine each time he twisted her words into something unexpectedly sweet. 'You stop that.' She scoffs, tossing her dirty sweater near the door. Of course she wanted him to do no such thing, and he needn't rely on his magical abilities to be sure of it based on the way his words had Flora's dirt-smeared cheeks flushing as she glanced at him over her shoulder.
Hissing in a tight breath despite the captain's gentle fingers, the queen tensed, arching forward slightly as if she might evade the thing she'd asked Jack to do. As relief began to slowly follow in the wake of the cloth, Flora gasped in a breath as the muscles around her lungs and waist finally began to relax, and all the tension she'd been holding since the Mathair grabbed her an hour or so before, began to let go. "Gods, I feel like I can breathe again." She murmurs appreciatively. Hanging her head, Flora leans back into Jack's ministrations, able to endure the sandpaper flare of pain from the cloth having felt the relief that flowed in its wake.
What else might Flora ask a goddess for? Raising his eyebrows at that, because as flamboyant and overconfident as the Doubletake can be, he doesn't think she is as egotistical to think a gift from a deity not worth taking. Still, he's more selfish than she is by far, and so even as she explains it away and her lies speckle her thoughts like shards of crystal, Jack relaxes. "Far be it for me to interrupt your me time with Safrin," he purrs, sweeping the cloth up towards the line of her bra - and then promptly unclasping it with a clever pinch of his fingers.
Not planning on stopping that whether or not Flora secretly enjoys it - Jack is absolutely the sort of man to double down if he's told not to do something, to the surprise of no one - the captain manages to withdraw to rinse out the cloth and douse more water onto it before she's almost sagging back into him, earning a scoff of laughter for her trouble. "You should've asked for somethin' to stop you gettin' squeezed to death by vines," he says dryly, purposely avoiding her breasts so he might reach up and gently wipe the dirt from her face, dabbing at the cuts and scrapes as he goes so they melt away.
"Still, least it didn't explode." Not like the void sea panther.
your touch brought forth an incandescent glow, tarnished but so grand
"Last time you used me to get to Safrin you agreed to have her child." Flora reminds him, just in case her fake argument required any more strength than she'd already given it. The removal of her bra is expected of course, but that doesn't stop the queen from shooting Jack a playfully withering look over her shoulder even if it does provide him the access he needs to fully tend to her injuries.
"I could have, but surprising as it might sound, I don't actually plan on being squeezed to death by vines all that often." Flora huffs before turning to face Jack properly. Despite the way her mind was tempted to plant the idea of soft kisses sprinkled against her shoulders and up the side of her neck, followed by clever but gentle fingers, the sparkle of her thoughts dims as she gazes up at the captain. "I missed." Her mind's eye would show the way she'd flung her blades out into the Greatwood, only to miss both times. Bitterness begins to creep in, and perhaps a bit of embarrassment too. The fact that she wasn't capable of fooling Jack for even an instant didn't stop her from hating the thought of appearing weak or incapable in his eyes.
"I'm so sick of missing." She admits in a whisper before letting herself slouch forward, forehead pressed against Jack's chest.
"Touche. Though I would argue that I didn't use you - I seem to recall there bein' a deal between us." Don't ask Jack about the specifics now, because odds are good that he doesn't remember (such is life when so much drama hits over and over seemingly without end) and he's distracted, besides, by the Doubletake's ample curves on display. Tilting his head a fraction in response to her withering glance, as if daring her to object, the captain continues his efforts until, at last, they are face to face.
"Call it an obvious point, but I don't reckon many people plan to die in general," he remarks, before the prickle of her thoughts gives way to soft and velvet darkness, the sort he might get stuck in should he be foolish enough to trip and fall.
One might expect gruff reassurance at best and mockery at worse at a time like this, but as Flora ferries herself forward against his chest, Jack merely sweeps her hair out of the way so he might swipe the cloth and its healing waters over the back of her neck. "When we fought that void sea panther, the only hit I landed was the first one," he says softly, a similar bitterness in his tone. "An' I limped out of there with more'n a few scrapes." As Flora would well remember.
"Seems like we could both do with some target practice."
your touch brought forth an incandescent glow, tarnished but so grand
Even if Jack hadn't said anything at all, the smell of tobacco and sea breezes that cling to him are far more reassuring than any platitudes he might offer her, not that she's have expected an aww shucks, you'll get 'em next time kiddo from him anyway. Sighing into the dark blue folds of his shirt, Flora nods silently, taking another full breath of air now that the healing water had more time to soften away her bruises. "Yeah." She agrees, not bothering to try and pull her lips away from his chest so that he could hear her better. "I used both my channellings in the Greatwood." Flora starts to say, before letting her mind fill in the gaps. If she couldn't hit things on her own and she was only as good as who she could call in at any given moment, then what good was she when she was spent?"
Not wanting to linger in her frustration for too long (for both of their sakes), Flora lets herself have one last petulant sigh before straightening, her bare torso still pressed against Jack's body. Reaching up to tangling her arms around his shoulders, the queen lets her fingers softly plunge into the back of his hair, her gaze almost immediately softening at the blue of his eyes. "Training tomorrow then? So I have a day to actually heal?" The water would wash away her aches and pains easily enough, but her mind needed a fucking second before potentially receiving another blow to her ego.
"Oh, also, I'm going to send Tal after some of the mageglass if and when a new pathway opens up." Grinning, the queen stands on her toes in order to press a gentle kiss against Jack's lips as if to cut off whatever comment the captain might make about oh no, my girlfriend doing nice things for me is so terrible, help. "Freezing my ass off in Halo while doing puzzles suddenly seems a lot less fun the colder it gets."
Only once he's satisfied with the path of the cloth and its mystical water does the captain give it a final squeeze to send droplets trickling down Flora's back, before setting it down on his desk. "No one can say you didn't channel the big guns when it counted," he remarks, as if it's a consolation. Channelling twice might have been a bitch, it's true, but channelling Rae and saving a deity? Worse things have happened. (Jack's been hit by them, he ought to know).
Letting her curls tumble through his fingers as she finally straightens up, his hands slip down to rest on her hips, allowing her to press flush against him all she likes as long as the barbs continue to retract in her thoughts. "Tomorrow," he agrees. "Some of us still have work to do, y'know - we can't all spend an afternoon playin' in the woods." His amusement is dry as kindling, though he could be tempted to procrastinate for an hour or two given the company.
"That courier?" he begins, his frown a quick thing that fades with the whisper of her lips. "Mm, my memory of Halo is too vivid to consider goin' back," he agrees.
