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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!
As per their letters, Ronin heads to Sunjata's old boxing ring within the next few days, the Knight dressed in a thick coat with the collar turned up against the chill sea breeze. Having lived in balmy Torchline for a while now, he's started to feel the cold of Deepfrost even out here in the tropics; like it or not, the temperatures are still vastly different now compared to the region in Longheat, and so he hovers against the wall of the old building with his hands buried in his pockets.
Over his shoulder he's slung a satchel containing, of all things, some of the Hanged Man's finest island rum, planning to gift it to the Flood upon seeing him. It's a very small gesture in a long list of things he considered he needs to do to make it up to Sunjata for tricking him all the way to Halo, but it's a start. Letting out a long, deep sigh, Ronin's brow furrows as he considers the way forward. Not just for today, but in general - the void, the Family, and all the consequences of continuing to resist them.
'cause we might as well be blind, if seeing is believing, this parable's misleading
It’s been ages since he’d darkened the path before the Slagveld, and yet the Flood knows the path like the back of his hand. It had been a number of things – a hidden guild, a boxing ring, a temporary home when the infection from the Climb had spread and Sunjata and Nate had accidentally burned their own home down. And so, it’s a lot of mixed emotions as Sunjata traverses the cobblestones, steel gaze focused on the ground to prevent any unwanted flickers of people’s faces or his own reflection to spook him from attending.
He finds Ronin – and he looks at him with a confidence of a man that seems to suggest in the time they’d parted, he hadn’t been infected – and he’s pleased to see he’s right in that the White Knight looks just as he’d remembered from mere weeks ago. “Hey.” He says wearily, beard scruffy and hair fingercombed back, feathers trying dutifully to hide beneath the collar of his rumpled and worn sweater.
And he’s in Torchline, which means he can pick up on a few old habits – such as, the pack of cigarettes he pulls out and lights with a match he drowns with his magic, dragging a hit off of it that seems more emotionally needed than anything else.
you've got your shotgun loaded with excuses — that you'll fire in vain — but those 12 rounds just won't do
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
Feeling Sunjata's approach before he ever speaks - whether it's the preternatural sense of a demigod or just because the Flood casts a considerable shadow, we'll never know - Ronin glances up and offers his old friend(?) a tired smile in response. "Hey," he says, straightening up from the wall and reaching out to clap him on the shoulder. He'd have drawn him into a hug were it not for the cigarette (and the feeling that Sunjata might impulsively strike out at him after what had happened in Halo), settling instead on stepping back and opening the satchel over his shoulder.
"Here," he invites, drawing out the bottle of dark, spiced rum and offering it out to him. "I've got it on good authority - Flora's, that is - that this is some of Torchline's best. It doesn't make up for what happened, I know, but... it's as good a start as any, right?" Offering a weak smile, he lets Sunjata decide whether to crack that bottle open now or to wait for later. "I'm sorry, by the way. I didn't get a chance to properly say it at the hotsprings, but I am. We knew there would be no other way to get you up that far north, but... yeah. It's not a moment I'm proud of."
'cause we might as well be blind, if seeing is believing, this parable's misleading
Letting the softer, equally tired smile twist on the corner of his face Sunjata lets the Knight clasp him on the shoulder before he’s exhaling the drag off the smoke, watching curiously (and a touch anxiously, he isn’t going to lie) when Ronin starts rummaging in the satchel on his shoulder. His apprehension is admittedly a bit of an overreaction as the rum is revealed and he takes it with a soft snort.
The cigarette slants in between his lips as he meets Ronin’s gaze and the weak smile, his tattooed shoulders shrug a little as he does – in fact – open the bottle to give it a whiff. “Honestly that’s not… something I’ve thought too much about. So if you’re beating yourself up over it, I’m glad you did it.” He offers, accented tones rumbling over the words as his steel gaze focuses on the Knight before trading the cigarette for a taste of the rum – very pleased with the result (and how it would likely do a good deal to distract him from everything else for the moment).
“I uh, just want it known that I was trying to help. With the Refuge, when it happened.” Shivers spark feathers to flicker across his shoulders briefly before he tamps it down and they vanish again with the deep drag of the cigarette he takes as he offers the bottle out to Ronin. “I know with the war and stuff that people question my allegiances sometimes, but… I didn’t want to be a friend of the Family.” Not until Dahlia had kissed him (as you’ll likely soon see Ronin :X )
you've got your shotgun loaded with excuses — that you'll fire in vain — but those 12 rounds just won't do
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
Ronin had been expecting any number of responses, from I forgive you to I never want to see you again, but to hear say that Sunjata is glad has his eyes widening a fraction in surprise. "I... well. I absolutely was beating myself up about it," he says with a crooked smile, "so I suppose I'll stop doing that now." Rubbing at the back of his neck - and smiling at the approval given to the rum he's brought - Ronin gestures to the liquor. "You can keep that anyway," he says. "You look like you need it. Rough trip down from Halo?" Or the Greatwood, he ought to say, given that he'd glanced him briefly at the Festival of Lights.
As for Sunjata's best laid plans (and yes, Ronin will absolutely see what the fuss is all about soon enough), he raises a hand as if to say he'd never doubted the other man - not this time around. "I remember there being talk of sending you to the Refuge to check if Dahlia's power worked there," he says. "If nothing else, we can tell for certain that it does, based on what happened to you." With a heavy sigh, Ronin reaches for Jata's shoulder again, giving it a squeeze. "It's good to have you back, for what it's worth," he says.
Turning to what once had been the Slagveld, he gestures towards it. "Anyway. This is actually why I asked you out here. I've been thinking of creating something like a training school out here in Torchline. Remi and I were discussing the best locations for it, and I just couldn't get the boxing ring out of my mind."
'cause we might as well be blind, if seeing is believing, this parable's misleading
“Gods,” Sunjata groans the second that Ronin’s relief is evident in the crookedness of his smile, Sunjata huffing a small laugh as he sighs and does indulge in a sip from the bottle. Swallowing it down without so much of a wince at the sharpness of the liquor, the Flood hums his approval before he continues to speak. “It’s like… I was wearing these glasses that made everything fine and perfect and now without them… it’s a lot. I can see who’s infected and everything that’s happened to the creatures and… Yeah.” He admits, sighing and leaning into the other man a touch when he squeezes his shoulder.
His jaw works, before he makes his clarifying statement – that he had wanted to help as much as he could. So when he nods, Sunjata’s nose wrinkles with the memory and he nods a touch sadly. “Yeah, that’s the consensus.” He drawls as he pops the cap back onto the bottle and turns when Ronin does – steel gaze focusing on the rough bones of the Slagveld, listening to the explanation.
It honestly sparks a soft huff of a sound from the Flood’s throat, his head tilting toward Ronin with a raise of his brow despite the fondness that flickers over his face from a time when they had been best of friends. “Ronin, I don’t have any stakes in Torchline anymore. If you want to use it, use it. I’m surprised someone hasn’t already.” He pulls his gaze away to step closer to the old boxing building, ducking beneath the frame of the door in a practiced motion, stepping into its dusty confines before memories seize his chest.
you've got your shotgun loaded with excuses — that you'll fire in vain — but those 12 rounds just won't do
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
It's with a curious mix of relief and empathy that Ronin grimaces to hear Sunjata explain how things have been since he'd been cured of the infection, the Knight adjusting the satchel on his shoulder and burying his hands back in his pockets. "It sounds like a lot," he says softly. "Take it easy on yourself though, yeah? I know how it went down in the end, but you were fucking brave to invite Dahlia into that refuge by yourself. Don't let what happened take away from that."
Giving him a gentle nudge as he follows him into the former-Slagveld, Ronin doesn't expect the laughter or the sudden fondness in Sunjata's expression, and he finds himself suppressing a chuckle of his own. "Places hold a lot of memories for people," he points out, gazing at the skeleton of what had once been the boxing ring. "That's probably why no one has taken it. And it's also why I'd never presume to do it without asking you first. We should spar once it's up and running, though. Least I can give you is the honour of training first, mm?" He grins.
'cause we might as well be blind, if seeing is believing, this parable's misleading
Snorting and lifting his hand to wave Ronin off, Sunjata settles a touch as he looks back toward the Slagveld. “Thanks. I think it’s just… Mostly embarrassment.” Yet another thing he’d tried to do because it was right and he only wanted to help, only for it to get so fucked in the end. But, in spite of it all, he’d had people around to help. To get him to go to that fucking hot springs and get cleaned up and fixed.
Stepping into the Slagveld, Sunjata’s hit with a variety of feelings and memories, his jaw working slightly as it hits him, the fondness, nostalgia, and hurt all coming to the forefront of his mind. He swallows down his memories as Ronin speaks, pulling his attention away to look back at him. “Ugh, yeah. I haven’t had a good training in awhile.” He admits – at least not one where they can’t just beat the shit out of each other for a while.
The last one, he realizes, was probably when he and Remi had sparred. And yeah, he’d taken that cheap shot after, but it had felt good.
you've got your shotgun loaded with excuses — that you'll fire in vain — but those 12 rounds just won't do
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
"I wouldn't be embarrassed. It isn't like anyone else volunteered to go and do it in your place, is it?" Ronin points out, smiling across to Sunjata and burying his hands back in his pockets as he takes in the space in full, allowing himself to imagine what it could be now that he's officially received the Flood's blessing. "Besides," he adds, "for better or worse... you can tell who is infected now, right?" Which, awful for Sunjata's mental health, by the sounds of it, but undeniably useful.
Perhaps that's something else he can help work out in the training they might do here. Grinning and nodding, Ronin gestures around at the place. "I'll let you know when it's ready, in that case. And I'll try and keep some parts of it the same - like a tribute, maybe." he decides. Then, glancing sidelong at the Flood, he can't help but give him a brief nudge. "Are you going to Halo to see Hotaru from here?" he asks. "Because if you are, forgive me, but we've gotta get you into some fresh clothes."
'cause we might as well be blind, if seeing is believing, this parable's misleading
The Flood’s head tilts slightly as he listens to the Knight, nodding shortly after as he exhales a sharp sigh. “Yeah. And it’s fuckin’ terrible.” He admits, drifting around the old Slagveld before he turns back to Ronin with an expression that seems tired as it is weary, yet… happy somehow. Happy to have gotten a chance to return to this space that he’d been avoiding for so long, unsure what kind of memories it would spark. And at the end of the day, they hadn’t hurt as bad as he’d thought. “I have a hard time with my reflection, still. I know I’m healed but.. it’s like they left little pieces in there.” Shaking his head, he finishes off the cigarette he’s been hitting off and on before he also shoves his hands in his pockets.
“Are you saying I’m a mess, Ronin?” Sunjata says with a hint of amusement, but he drifts closer to the Knight in acceptance of it. He knows he is, he hasn’t shaved in a while (again, mirrors), nor has he been able to get his hair trimmed. He’s a mess in all the ways that could be charming, if he did it right, when all he’d managed to do was survive it. “Alright, lead the way.” He gestures to the entrance of the Slagveld, conceding the point before he thinks too much about it.
you've got your shotgun loaded with excuses — that you'll fire in vain — but those 12 rounds just won't do
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
Fuckin' terrible - Ronin would drink to that if he'd still been holding the bottle of liquor he'd given to Sunjata. Instead he can only offer an apologetic smile and an understanding nod, lingering just inside the Slagveld to allow the Flood all the time he needs in the space, to face old ghosts and memories and sit with them for a while. "Your reflection?" He winces. "Fuck, Jata. Sorry to hear that." Other people are one thing, but to not even be able to trust what you look at in the mirror every day? No wonder the Flood looks the way he does. Speaking of which, though--
"Yes," Ronin says, a lopsided smile curling at his lips as if to put such serious topics to rest and instead focus on poking fun at his once-best friend. "Alright, come on. There's a boutique I need to stop at anyway to pick something up for Remi. Pretty sure there's a barbershop next to it - we can always let you sit with a blindfold to get cleaned up if that would help?" And if nothing else, he can at least get a new shirt from the boutique.
Leaving the old Slagveld and heading down the street, Ronin is careful to stick to less crowded areas so Sunjata doesn't have to risk seeing something he doesn't want to see, and only when they reach the door to the boutique does he stop and hold the door open for the Flood. "Alright - here we are."
'cause we might as well be blind, if seeing is believing, this parable's misleading
“It’s only there for a second before it’s gone, so.. Y’know, I guess it could be worse.” He admits, cradling the gifted bottle and flashing Ronin a smaller smile, finding it easier to jest with his ex-best friend. Finding after a few moments that it would be so easy to fall back into that banter, and maybe then some given that they’re no longer Safrin’s.
“Ugh, okay. I’ll manage, don’t worry.” He drawls dramatically, before he’s stepping out of the old Slagveld to follow Ronin, nodding to the mention of picking something up for Remi. He thinks little of it, but wonders if he knows which boutique Ronin’s talking about – if he’d stopped by there on the rare occasions way back when or if it were new.
Turns out, it’s an older one he hadn’t frequented and the route they take is one that he knows is definitely not the fastest way there – a kindness the Knight offers that Sunjata files away for later. And such a gentleman is he that he holds the door open for him to enter. Nodding his head as thanks, he steps into the boutique, glancing around. “What’d you get?” Assuming it was a gift for Remi and nothing Remi had ordered himself, of course.
you've got your shotgun loaded with excuses — that you'll fire in vain — but those 12 rounds just won't do
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
That's the thing though, isn't it? It can always be worse, but that doesn't mean things are peachy at the time. Opting not to say as much to Sunjata given that the other man is trying hard to be positive by the sounds of it, instead Ronin concentrates on their journey to the boutique - and the barbershop next door. Following the Flood inside, they are greeted with racks of shirts and slacks, jackets, coats and accessories, all very well made and apparently geared towards cold, wet weather.
"He's started to patrol Torchline's shores for any monsters or nefarious looking ships," Ronin says of his husband with a grin over his shoulder as he approaches the counter. "He usually ends up coming home soaking wet, so I thought I'd get him a coat he can pull on right away." Smiling to the tailor who scurries away to retrieve a large, wrapped parcel from the back, Ronin accepts it with a nod of gratitude.
"Feel free to grab yourself a change of clothes while we're here. It's on me."
'cause we might as well be blind, if seeing is believing, this parable's misleading
“That’s really thoughtful of you.” Sunjata murmurs before he’s meeting Ronin’s grin with a smaller one of his own. Though, the scars light up with the offer, ready to deny the kindness shown before he realizes the Knight likely won’t let him get away with it. So instead, Sunjata’s a touch sheepish as he huffs a soft sound and nods, perusing the racks for something to fit his height and shoulders, mostly, and when he’s decided on an outfit without breaking a figurative bank, he meets Ronin at the counter.
He’s brought a warm red sweater, with little hues of navy blue on the edges in beautiful stormy whirls, paired with a new pair of pants, black to not detract from the shirt. And while red isn’t usually his color, he thinks it’s fitting to wear something a little less like himself. A coat accompanies the look, a black coat that’s somewhat fitted but mostly to retain the heat in the winter. Gods knew Sunjata needed it when it came to the snow afflicting his own region.
Still a touch awkward, he shoots a smile to Ronin of gratitude. “Thanks, Ronin. You didn’t have to.”
you've got your shotgun loaded with excuses — that you'll fire in vain — but those 12 rounds just won't do
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
