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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!
Thal hasn't quite been herself in recent weeks. If not for Asta, she might have wandered all of Caido in numb oblivion until she slowly went mad with bloodlust or formed into a very depressing statue. Her swagger and confidence hadn't fully returned yet, feeling like an echo of the fire that once blazed behind her eyes. Nothing felt right or worth doing, but maybe that's why she'd fallen on old habits: sparring, drinking, sex, and sailing. Not particularly in that order.
Yet nothing seemed to spark that heat, the emotions getting swallowed into the abyss that always reminded her of what was missing. It was frustrating, but even that emotion didn't linger, swept away in the current of constant ache.
Wanting to feel something even if it's pain, Thal makes her way into the
Burrows for the first time in forever, barely having a moment to take in the surroundings before she spots a familiar face. "Danta..." She wears her usual attire, but it feels off, likes it's missing an accessory or blood to give it character, the black feeling more oppressive than threatening. Her hair is tamer than it's been, the black tresses framing the darker hue of her blue eyes that aren't as sharp as usual.
Overall, she looks like shit.
But that doesn't stop her from stepping in a little farther, doing her best to look nonchalant and confident, even as the shrug of her shoulders is stilted and uncomfortable. "I thought some sparring might help take my mind off things, but if you're busy..."
Fresh through the portal from the Hollowed Grounds, Danta shrugs into the oppressive heat of the Climb like it's a comfortable old coat, rolling his shoulders and letting an easy smile spread across his face. The region he calls home now is getting more chilly by the day, and he often finds himself thankful for the opportunity to come here and warm his bones back to scorching.
Not having come looking for a fight, particularly, the Maverick has found a little outcrop to sit upon, his boots abandoned nearby, his pants rolled to the knee so he might dip his toes into the magma. By the time Thalassa appears, he's leaning back on his hands, his shirt - some sequinned thing held together by ties at his back - hanging off one shoulder, his eyes softly closed.
"Hm?" Glancing over at the approaching Ancient with lazy surprise, the smile that blooms across his face is one of unfettered indulgence. "Hello, Thal," he greets. "Long time no see. What things are you trying to take your mind off? I can always make myself unbusy for the chance at a good spar."
Dantalion
// one hundred years from the empire now //
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
Thal does her best to give a smile, although it's not her characteristically sharp grin, more of a pursed curve of her lips that serves as a 'polite' greeting. It's nice to be warmly received despite recent events, but it doesn't make her any more inclined to mention the real reason she's struggling, knowing that few people liked Pierce or would sympathize with his departure.
Choosing to keep it honest but vague, Thal taps a boot against a loose rock and watches as it splashes into the magma, content to watch it ripple as she works through her words. "I... lost someone recently." Swallowing, she shrugs her shoulders again, trying to dismiss the ache already building in her chest. "I'd prefer not to think about it."
Her lips curve up in something resembling a grin, trying to infuse some of her usual confidence into the expression. "This might be one of your only opportunities to land a hit on me." And let's be honest, most people would love the chance to kick her when she's down. It's one of the many benefits of being an irritable pirate captain.
"Sorry to hear that," Danta says, and though his tone is as airy as ever, he really does mean it. It might only be quite recently that he's had something he'd never want to lose, but it's enough for him to be able to empathise with another person about the feeling. Wiggling his toes and finally pulling them from the lava, the Maverick rises to his feet to stretch.
"Oh, come now, don't be so coy," he drawls, flashing her a fanged grin and padding down off the outcrop, his feet still bare, his tail flicking animatedly at his heels. "I'm sure between us we could make plenty more opportunities for me to try. Whether I succeed, of course, is entirely the point of this."
If nothing else, Danta will make sure Thal's mind stays off whatever is bringing her down, because in his experience, it's quite difficult to focus on nuance and emotion when someone is trying to punch you in the face. Which is just what he decides to try, grinning broadly as he darts forward
1/4
Dantalion
// one hundred years from the empire now //
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
Danta's sympathies are accepted with a quiet nod, eager to move away from the topic and all the pain that comes with it. She finds it easier when he leans into the banter, the grin taking a little less energy to force onto her lips. "I guess we'll have to see." The smile doesn't hint at the doubts she has, the belief that she won't stand a chance in her current state.
But none of that matters as he's suddenly right in front of her, his fist inches from her face. She can barely form an instinctual thought of defense before she's darting to his side. Her breath catches, clearing her thoughts enough that she can focus on the fight unfurling. The joy or excitement that she usually wears is nowhere to be seen, just a quiet concentration as she twists her hips to throw a fist at his flank, letting the physical exertion drown out her pains.
"I guess we will," Danta agrees, before there's little left for them to say that they need to discuss with words. His fist grazes the air where her head had been only a second before, the Maverick almost able to feel the heat of her cheek kissing his knuckles, but it's nothing more than a tease for now. He's trained (er, fought) with Thal before, of course, but he's nowhere near as familiar with her as his lover, and so if she seems stern or withdrawn, Danta puts it down to concentration.
Concentration which has her levelling a strike against his side in no time at all, forcing him to twist unnaturally to avoid it. And avoid it he does, though not without overbalancing considerably. For his part he at least seems to be having a great time, flashing her a fanged grin as he's forced into a bullrush by his poor positioning. If he can't punch her, maybe he'll be more successful in tackling her to the ground.
2/4
Dantalion
// one hundred years from the empire now //
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
Just as Danta's fist had struck air, hers fails to land, only the brush of fabric and a warm breeze meeting her knuckles. The moment she registers that she's missed, her arm is already pulling back, scanning his movements for when her next opportunity might appear. His stumbling overcorrection is enticing, but she feels slow, distracted despite how she focuses intently on the spar.
By the time she makes the decision to capitalize on his mistake, Danta is already moving towards her, crouched low and aggressive like he plans to take her down. Very much not wanting to wrestle with him, Thal plans to dart again before his head is connecting with her chest, forcing a small release of air from her lips. She grits her teeth and lifts a knee, hoping for it to connect with something that will make him release her.
Unlike Thal, Danta has no qualms when it comes to rasslin' or any other close contact, though his delight is short lived as he successfully drives the air out of her lungs. The grin on his face flinches into something absolutely horrified, and though he's already jumping back on instinct, her knee absolutely hits its mark. The Maverick, like any man who has been assaulted thus, drops like a sack of shit with a groan, curling around himself protectively.
"That was uncalled for," he wheezes, glaring up at her half-playfully, and the fire that suddenly whipcracks through the air does so entirely without thought - it would have to be, given that the only damage the flame can do is to Thal's clothes. But hey, maybe he might be able to dazzle her or singe her outfit enough to cause a distraction. Because he's going to be right back on this, the second he stops feeling sick.
3/4
Dantalion
// one hundred years from the empire now //
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
Her knee connects with something a little softer than she'd expected, the impact like a dousing of icy water over her head as he drops. She makes a muttered sound that might have been an apology through her own shallow breaths, although even if he doesn't hear it, the grimace on her face will make it more than obvious that the underhanded strike hadn't been intentional. Despite being a pirate and utilizing every dirty trick in the book, it's not something she tries to use against 'friends,' particularly not the lovers of her closest friend. A sliver of panic runs through her, catastrophic thoughts of anger and broken friendships gaining traction despite the logic.
The glint of amusement in his eyes calms some of the insanity that had seized against her chest, the fire feeling more reassuring than chastising as it brushes against her cheeks. She breathes in the flames, pulling them from the air into her lungs along with some of her confidence, shifting the tension in her shoulders to fighting preparation rather than bracing anticipation. Her hands twitch at her side, face lined with quiet acceptance of whatever retribution he plans to dole out - still not planning to make it easy for him.
Busy clambering to his feet - and it takes a few more beats than it might usually, thanks to the way his body perpetually wants to hunch in on itself, by the time Danta gets himself upright he's almost managed to catch his breath at least, and his laughter is loud enough to be audible around the cavern. "Gods, you've got a helluva knee on you, y'know?" he says, ignoring that he'll absolutely be limping for the rest of their bout.
Luckily for him, he's got more than one way to get about, and without warning he dart!s directly in front of Thal, his fist swinging in an uppercut that aims to catch her right beneath the diaphragm. He knows she's quick - quicker than he is, undoubtedly - but that's exactly what underhanded tactics and catching an opponent by surprise is for, right?
4/4
Dantalion
// one hundred years from the empire now //
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
The compliment earns a ghost of a smile, getting the sense that he can't be joking and angry at her simultaneously. But she doesn't have long to think about it before he's suddenly in front of her again, fist punching forward without hesitation. Distracted by her own lingering worries - and maybe still feeling a little guilty for her previous strike - Thal is a moment too slow when she darts out of the way, reappearing behind him to make a counterstrike harder.
Her vision blurs as she gasps around a fist that isn't there anymore, hunching low like she's mirroring his posture from just seconds before. She didn't get the full force of the strike, but it's enough to hurt. "Shit." It's more air than sound, falling from her lips as she clutches her abdomen and the muscles that tighten too late to protect her. Although in no position to attack again, Thal swings an elbow behind her, too stubborn to give in even when they're both looking like elders who lost their canes.
Feeling the ghost of his punch still on his knuckles and hearing the wheezed out sound behind him that confirms he's been successful, Danta is only just about able to glance over his shoulder at Thal before her elbow lances out viciously to catch him right in the kidney. The Maverick staggers forward with a sharp curse, groaning to himself and turning to all but slump against a large boulder nearby, holding up a hand as if she might keep coming at him.
"Aight, that's as good a spar as anyone's gonna get outta me until my balls come down from my throat where you kicked 'em," he tells her, huffing out a laugh and tipping his head back to rest properly against the stone. "You good?" he asks, his eyes having slipped shut so he can focus on catching a breath that doesn't kind of hurt.
Dantalion
// one hundred years from the empire now //
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
Her elbow connects with another soft area, registering his groans as a moment for her to breathe - literally. She gives a small cough to clear the tension that presses against her diaphragm, resetting some of the pressure so that she can suck in a lung full of clarifying air, stretching slowly up so that her muscles might not scream as loud. It'll still ache in the morning, maybe leave a gnarly bruise, but at least she's able to blink up(?) at Danta's propped form.
Thal doesn't quite smile through her own discomfort, lips pursed as she pieces through what pain is physical or mental. "Fine." It's a lie, but she rubs a hand against her abdomen, looking to Danta and his obvious discomfort instead. There's a kernel of worry despite his joking, and she does her best not to give anything away when she asks, "You?"
"I'll live," Danta assures her in a sing-song voice, taking the necessary time to wait for his head to stop spinning and for his side to stop aching, and once he's able to take a few long, deep breaths of his own, he starts to straighten up against the boulder. "No disrespect to you, of course, but I've had worse done to me in my time." He winks, rolling his shoulders and stretching gingerly. "Still, always nice to be reminded of the taste of your own blood, no?"
Clambering back among the rocks so he can grab his boots to pull them back on, once he's fully dressed, he hops down near to Thal. "Want to head back to the Grounds with me? I only came up here to warm myself up a bit - Leafchange isn't bad, but it's still chilly in the mornings."
Dantalion
// one hundred years from the empire now //
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
