When Crimson Met Crimson (Closed)

In the small, neatly organized shop, between shelves and racks, Nevin sighed as he rearranged the bottles that lined the shelves of his store. Of late his clientele had gotten even more unruly and unsavory, and he had shifted to making more and more poisons. Thankfully they were normally kept behind shutters until a later point in the night - during the early hours of the evening, when families and kids would come in, the cabinets the poisons were in remained locked up, keeping their contents from sight. Now however, it was reaching into the deeper hours of the night, almost eleven, and he was unlocking and arranging the poison cabinets as he prepared for the rougher clientele to come in.

Most of the things on the shelves were a variety of simple poisons, one or two poisonous ingredients that would do a variety of things. From potions that would cause pain, to nausea or other illnesses, all the way to those that could cause more permanent harm. The most dangerous ones - those guaranteed to kill most victims, such as potent neurotoxins - were locked up even now, kept in the back with him, where someone couldn't just reach out and kill themselves by accident. Alongside these poisons, most also had an antidote sitting beside them - or an emetic, if there was no direct antidote. It spoke of the kind of customers that normally came in at this time of night that while the poisons had been selling at a steady enough rate, Nevin had had to change out some of the antidotes as they passed their effective usage dates.

With things organized once more to his liking, the redhead alchemist moved back to his counter and flipped back open his notebook. He began writing in it almost absently, passing thoughts and notes as he turned things over in his mind. There were many things that were tickling at the back of the blood mage's thoughts, but for now he couldn't actually concentrate on any of them well enough to bring them into direct focus. To match this, the things that he was writing down tended to ramble along, with little cohesion between one line and the next.

Wandering through Radasanth in the most ungodly hour of the night, Fenn felt as if he were sleepwalking.

Candlelight huddled in few buildings. It shrank back from the purple gloom of the night. Only the lascivious, the suspicious, and the restless wandered these winding streets this late. He fell into the latter category. It wasn’t his bed — nor lack thereof — that led the young puck to pad aimlessly through the streets, rubbing at baggy eyelids, his ears pricking up at every stray noise. Fenn was used to rough napping spots. A bed of leaves? Sure. A dry riverbed? Happened before. Rough cobblestones? His back was going to be stiff in the morning, but it worked. The branches of a sturdy oak? He’d sleep the shit outta that cozy nook.

No, he wished it was something so mundane as missed comfort; another bad dream had visited his sleep. One bad enough to catapult him back to reality. Though disturbing in and of themselves, those also lead to fights with his dreamwalking… boss, Banrion. This one wasn’t as awful as they sometimes got, and Banri hadn’t caught wind of it, thank his lucky stars. But it still left him feeling a tinge hollow and alone on the inside.

Not that he would admit it.

Daugi was out on one of her moody time-to-herself hunting nights. Radasanth wasn’t a place for her to be anyway, not for long. As for Banrion… yeah, he wasn’t going to go to her for this.

He did know someone (probably still) in town who might be good company while he waited for the shaky feelings inside to go away though.

The door to this version of Nevin’s shop didn’t have the same comforting door chimes as the one in Stonevale. But the inside felt familiar. Colorful brews rested on the shelves, and the alchemist himself sat at the counter, scribbling to distraction at a beaten journal. He regarded Fenn with a tired almost-amusement, which softened as his gaze met the bags under the boy’s eyes. “Ah. Fenn. What brings you here this time? Is all well?”

Fenn gave a wavering “so-so” wobble of his hand and made an effort to smile at his friend. Friend? Sure, friend. The redhaired alchemist had been someone frequently visited — perhaps more than Nevin liked, considering Fenn’s troublesome nature. Definitely enough the be considered “friend” in the little fae’s book. The chipped counter frosted over under a light touch of his hand. IS FINE. WANT QUIET PLACE TO STAY, PERSON NEARBY. IS OKAY?

Nevin thought for a moment, chin resting on steepled hands. He nodded. “Be my guest.”

It wasn't often the redheaded assassin found herself in Corone. Especially not when there was still so much to do back in Salvar. The desolate wastes were somewhat of a comfort for Scarlet despite the harsh cold and stark white sheets of endless snow. They were familiar. They were known. They weren't going to turn around and betray her at a moments notice. Course, the same could not be said about the company she kept. She had lost everything, and everyone. Aside from Lichensith Ulroke, who had ever since he found she was with 'his' child - had been a tad over protective of her. Not that it mattered. If Scarlet had it her way, she'd rip the damn thing out of her, and she knew that the man had somewhat similar feelings. He was on edge, and she couldn't blame him. There were rumors and whispers...and plans and contingencies needed to be put in place.

It was for that reason that Scarlet found herself here. Standing before an unassuming oak door. Contingency. Yes. There was a redheaded man here known as Nevin and despite Richards protests Scarlet could use another alchemist. She hadn't heard much of him, but it was enough to pique her interest and have her haul her pale and fractured ass out to the continent.

The store was open, or at least Scarlet assumed as much. Light shone from beneath the door and shadowed shifted to and fro signalling that there was someone inside. Fuck it. Scarlet wasn't one to be polite. She pushed open the door with a gloved hand and stepped in. Soft chimes signaled her arrival as she allowed the door to gently shut behind her. She didn't really feel things much these days, but that didn't make her some barbarian. She knew the etiquette of shutting a damn door at least.

Scarlet looked somewhat normal. Normal by Althanas standards at least. She wore leather gloves to stop skin to skin contact. She had a decent control of her seeping corruption to not liquify or rot anything around her but her bare touch still bothered others. Her wild hair was pulled back into a low hanging ponytail, a poor attempt to say the least. Bangs splayed out to frame her face making Scarlet look either wild, insane, or both. She wore a loose fitting green dress and the usual black leather boots.

"Nevin, I presume?" She asked cooly,watching the man tinker with a few items on a shelf. "Red hair. Alchemist. Stalking around Corone. You meet the description. I have-" She paused as her eyes glanced over to the figure at the counter. A very small figure. A very small and familiar figure. A very small and familiar and frightened figure. "Hello Fennick." Scarlet said with a small smile creeping to her lips. "I do hope we get the chance to finish our discussion one day, lest a goat legged furry tit faun take you away again." She jested.

Nevin had looked up when the door chimed open - and blinked once, raising an eyebrow as he took in the figure walking into his shop. This was the first red haircut every person he had met that wasn't himself - and she cut a definite figure in the green dress and gloves she wore. Nevin glanced down to his own and wondered for a moment if she was like him even her eyes were a blackened red. If he didn't know he had been the Cult's first attempt....

When she walked up and began speaking, his other eyebrow had climbed to join its partner in his hairline. He didn't know he had garnered a reputation of any sort, not enough to be a good hat easily distinguished. He also wasn't quite sure why this woman seemed... Not angry, but cool, like she was irritated with something. As far as he knew he hadn't done anything to upset people yet - she couldn't be a Guild Alchemist could she? Then her eyes locked onto Fenn"s trembling form.

Furry legged tit faun? Is she meaning Lady van der Aart? The chances of this stranger meaning someone he knew was low - but at the same time, Philomel was rather memorable from her... endowments. But still - she seemed to know Fenn - and the Fae was shivering, and as he had already told the alchemist, tired. So -

Nevin stepped forward. Thankfully Fenn had taken his seat behind the counter, so Nevin was able to block the smaller man from sight. He pushed a smile onto his face and tilted his head to one side.

"You've come to the right place, I am indeed Nevin. Apologies, my friend has told me is quite tired and feeling unwell. What can I do for you, miss?" Distract and shield the Fae. Hopefully Fenn hadn't done anything to antagonize this woman - and Nevin hoped that being reminded that she had come here for a reason would give the Fae a chance to recover.

From his stolen seat, the little fae was failing to not shake like a leaf.

At first, he had dazedly assumed that this vision of Amari was some sort of sleepless hallucination. A vivid mirage conjured by his wandering mind. But no, this was the real deal, complete with a striking outfit and her sharp tongue. It was the talking that made him realize it was really her. It felt too real. She seemed somewhat more put-together than she had been at the bar or… especially that-other-one-don’t-think-about-it time. Whether that made her more dangerous or more trustworthy, it was hard to say. But oddly, when he thought about it, she hadn’t seemed hostile, at the bar. Nor this time. Yet. Fenn’s lips twisted into a feral snarl. If she thought he was going to up and go “yeah it's okay I’m fine with you” right away though, she had another think coming to her.

He sort of, kind of, gave her a wave that sort of, kind of, ended in a distinct finger and fearfully retreated back into his cloak. The cloak was doing a rare thing now; it shrouded most of him protectively. Only his marble-green eyes were visible beneath the matching fabric.

And though he had nothing to say on the matter, he too was curious as to why she had shown up here. Fenn prayed that Amari would forget him. He hoped her presence had to do with Nevin and not himself. Man, that redheaded troublemaker, gathering strange visits like small fae gathered shiny trinkets. Catgirls and homomonumonculuses, fae and villains. If Fenn needed some interesting pockets to pick, all he had to do was hang out around the shop.

AND PHI WAS A LOVELY (snoopy) PHAUN.

And Amari could go fuck an icicle.

And Fenn was tired.

Too tired for this. That was always when the strange stuff hit, when you were too exhausted to struggle.

Scarlet gave an amused and short 'HA!' as Fenn flipped her the bird. "Damn, you've grown a pair haven't you? That's what I admire about you Fennik. Not much gets you down." He then proceeded to cover his face, shielding himself from her. The only thing visible from his shroud were a pair of large, pupilless eyes. "That's a bit of a creepy look..." Scarlet mused as she rubbed her chin. "Suits you though. Always knew you had a stronger fight in ya, it's a shame that-"

She was cut off by the man who was two heads taller than her, at least. Nevin. He was protecting Fenn from her. Everyone had a habit of protecting something from her. Geez, you torture a few people, become the figurehead of an assassin organisation, and go on a murder spree and suddenly you're the bad guy. "Tch." Scarlet's amused smirk disappeared as she crossed her arms over her chest.

She had heard a little about the Alchemist, he dabbled in some sort of blood magic. It was powerful stuff and Scarlet wanted to investigate. Something like that would have been very useful to the Crimson Hand but she may already be coming up short. He seemed like the goody-two-shoes hero type. Already sticking his nose into business it didn't belong.

Her scelera eyes stared Nevin down and without a word she took off her leather glove and reached out, tearing her hands through his shirt as though it were water. The tattered remains of this clothes fell to the floor. Scarlet calmly placed her glove back on, seeing the lines that traced his body. "Depends, exactly what you can do with that blood of yours."

Nevin stared at the woman for a long moment, then slowly turned his gaze down to his shirt, staring at it with a bizarrely confused expression.
"Why do they always go for my shirt?" The man was clearly not aware he'd spoken as he cranked his head back around to stare at the small Fae sitting on a chair behind him.

"Fenn, I swear to Crimson that if you have hidden from someone else in my shop I will throw you at the first constable I see. Or to this woman, she seems to want you and you know her." Then he coughed and turned his attention back to Amari and used one hand to hold his shirt together, once again covering up the blood-red lines running across his torso.

"Sorry about that, he has a habit of hiding here. Now then, Miss. With my Alchemy I am a skilled crafter, of both medicines, as well as poisons and their antidotes. With my blood Alchemy, I can bring out a quality inherent in the blood." He gestured behind him to a small, locked, glass cabinet. Inside were a few swirling red potions, glowing with an inner red light.

"The result depends on what the blood came from. With donated blood, I can create a potion that mimics an ability or trait of the donor, with animal blood I can create potions that carry an aspect of what the animal was. For example, one of those potions is healing, created by slaying an animal and stealing its vitality, another is an acid from a strange lizard's blood. So, for what I can do with my blood Alchemy, well, it depends on what materials I have to work with, and what it is you're looking for." There was no sense in beating around the bush here, this woman clearly already knew of his blood magic. He had only started being open about it recently, so he was a bit surprised that someone had already come looking because of it.

He was keeping quiet about bring able to manipulate blood in its purer form though. She had come to his Alchemy shop, so it must be alchemical things she was looking for. Or, Fenn had led someone else here and Nevin did need to chuck the midget to his fate.

Something was just not right here.

Fenn puffed his cheeks out in frustration. His eyes were slightly crossed, probably from how much his sleep-deprived brain was trying to process at once. He didn’t know what was up, but he had a distinct unease about whatever blood-magic-stuff Amari had come for. Partially because Amari was just bad news waiting to happen in general, partially because… why on earth did she take off Nevin’s shirt? The boy was left in open-mouthed confusion, glancing between the two redheads and the torn garment abandoned on the floor. If she was yet another lady seeking the magic in those ironically chaste alchemist pants, then somehow, the little fae wouldn’t be surprised. Those rumors were juicy. But, that tear was too calculated. And she was talking crazy talk about blood -- and so was Nevin.

Oh, how he hated it when things went over his head.

The chair Fenn was sitting in was scooted closer to the counter by the meager force of his spindly legs. He hazarded taking a hand out of his cloak to frost over the desk -- first, knocking on the wood in order to make sure he wasn’t going unnoticed. MANY QUESTIONS. CONFUSED. he scrawled in addled, shaky strokes. The boy was very specifically not addressing Amari herself. SHE SPOOKY POWERS. POTIONS OF BLOOD WHY? FOR HER? KNOW HER? FENN KNOWS HER. HER FAULT?

For a moment the alchemist seemed uncharacteristically uncomfortable as he glanced back at the writing (moreso than he already was without his shirt), while the she-rogue beside him had nothing but a cool smile. “Fenn, it has nothing to do with her. Don't go assigning blame to those innocent of it,” Nevin told him. “This is a different matter. And no, we’ve only just met.”

“Innocent” and “Amari” were words that did not compute well together. He wasn’t sure how safe he would be discussing it with her present, though. The last time her ire had been directed at the fae… IF SO SAY. LADY BAD. NO TRUST. FENN NOT STIRRED TROUBLE THIS TIME. NOT THROW TO CRAZY LADY. NEVER. NO. NOT EVER. OR CONSTABLE. MEH. SNEAKING WAY OUT OF JAIL AGAIN, BAD TIME USE.

Sure, Fenn liked the spindly excitement picking a lock or two, and the glee of slipping past guards, but he wasn't much in the mood tonight.

Scarlet raised an eyebrow. "Please, If I wanted to fuck you - I'd make my moves away from peeping toms." She said as her eyes darted toward Fenn. Shifting her scelera gaze back to the man before her she pointed to his skin. "That was what I was looking for." And with those words she again, took off her gloves then rolled up her sleeves to reveal the massive scarring across her entire body. It looked as though she were made of fine china that had been broken. "Aww look at that..." Scarlet muttered in a mocking tone. "We match."

She put her gloves back on but left her sleeves rolled up. Nevin was chastising Fenn. Oh the irony. "Well... I wouldn't be too harsh on the little thief." Scarlet mused as she side stepped Nevin and took a few more steps toward the counter. She stopped short several metres of it. Nevin didn't need Fenn pissing himself, and Scarlet didn't need the fae running off on her. Having the two in the same place could prove to yield more opportunities. "I haven't been much of myself lately, and during one of my shall I say....episodes? I did injure Fenn, quite terribly so." Her eyes shifted to his covered wrists. "He has every right to want me dead, and is very welcome to try." Scarlet added with a laugh before waving dismissively.

"Him being here is just a coincidence. One in my favour, to be sure, but a coincidence nonetheless. I'd avoid throwing him to any force of law. He's too slippery for them, and I'd take a guess that they'd use...iron?" Scarlet questioned as she again - shifted her gaze to Fenn. The Fae stilled at the mention of the metal. It was the very thing Scarlet had used against him, and she was sure it had bought up painful memories. Literally.

"Blood magic..." Scarlet mused as she approached the poisons cabinet, reading through some of the concoctions. Nothing too sinister, ones to impede, ones to make you sick, to put you to sleep, immobolize. She could do all that with her bare hands. Literally. "So, a bit of a third rate alchemist. That is until you bring in your blood magic." She picked up a paralyzing poison and rolled it around in her hand.

"I'm a bit of an...oddity Nevin. My magic is well, me. My soul in its entirety is formed of mana and is quite corrupted. Anything I touch crumbles. If I so desire it, I could kill the both of you, just by my presence. Smell that...?" She gestured at the air around her, and the slight aroma of decay. "That's me. That was not always the case...it was the opposite. I'd have to wonder... if using my blood would become a beneficial aid, or the most nefarious of concoctions."

She rose her eyes to meet Nevin's curious gaze. "Let us find out." With a flurry of her wrist she whipped off her glove and drew a single finger across her arm. A very,very thick line of blood appeared then drizzled over her arm and dripped to the floor. "Let's not dilly dally - Nevin." Scarlet teased.

"And he's stolen and tried to sell off things from me. If we judged people off of only one encounter, or off of what they did to others, well, I doubt I'd talk to pretty much anyone in this world." Nevin folded his arms across his chest - not even bothering to address the 'If I wanted to fuck you' thing that this redhead had said. She'd said his name a few times now, but he still didn't know hers. And at this point, he wasn't sure she wanted to know. Not because he disliked the woman - but because she seemed rather hostile and dismissive of him. He was far more than a 'third rate alchemist' thank you very much - he just didn't bother putting anything of value out on the sales floor when more than half of his clientele were thieves or rogues of various breeds. But still - he drew himself upright when she began talking about the scent of decay in the store.

He had noticed it, very faint, but assumed that either Fenn or this woman had traveled through an area where they picked up that smell. To think she was actually generating it - did it have something to do with the strange way her skin looked? He had never seen another person with lines running all across their body like his own - though hers were fewer, and seemed almost deeper than his own. Of course, without touching her to examine them, he had no way of knowing that. But he didn't know where on Althanas she was going with this, this talk of her magic being warped, and then she asked if it would be helpful or detrimental. Then a sharp claw of a nail dragged across black-lined skin - and

Nevin's head throbbed. The blood was - it was a twisting, jarring dissonance, at war with itself, powers clashing as they vied for supremacy. The chorus of his magic was broken, shattered, singing at odds with itself in a way that he had never before experienced. Even with the worst of the abominations that he had fought, never before had his own magic been painful for him to experience. But this - it was like her very essence was torn, and now her comment about being warped was very very clear. And it was - he could feel that this tearing, breaking was killing her, and that there was something else in the blood, like it was crying out for the missing pieces of itself. He - the redhaired man gripped the side of his head as his the chorus of his magic screamed at him, at war with itself. It was like time was moving in slow motion to him as the thick, dark blood welled up from the cut in her arm and began falling towards the ground. With a strangled noise of almost pain he reached out his other hand.

"Sanguine Vitae!" Life, not death. Both sides of her magic screamed for dominance - and here, Nevin knew which he would choose. More blood was pulled out of her, the woman seeming amused by his actions - and then, as it fell to the ground, to the varnished wooden floor, something quite unusual happened. The wood splintered, almost like she had expected it - and then began to grow, twigs and branches sprouting to life where the blood had splashed, fresh green life sprouting up. This lasted for a few moments before - before it withered away. But - but for a moment there, he had pulled forth something. If there was a way to contain that blood, instead of expending it immediately... Nevin shuddered. Her magic was potent, no matter which side seemed to be in effect.

Fenn wondered if trying to warn Nevin about Amari was how other people felt about trying to warn him about threatening things.

She had outright admitted that she was a danger, and the alchemist still didn’t seem to realize it might be best to maybe stay the hell back from her. Well then. If his friend was going to be more stupid than Fenn himself was at times, it was his duty to stay here and make sure Nevin got out of this with minimal damage. Also, he was a little tired for getting out of this cushy chair, let alone walking out of the shop. A tired snuffle emanated from the cloak. Yeah. He’d only try to kill her (as she’d mockingly suggested) were she to try anything funny. Fenn... wasn't sure he was a killer. Not yet. Banri had her plans, but, that was a story for a later day to tell.

That comment about iron was cutting though. Randomly thrown low blows were characteristic enough of her that he wasn’t sure whether he was supposed to take it as a threat or not. His wrists twinged with the faint memory of heat.

The other two were still talking to each other. Something something “third-rate alchemist”, “blood magic”, something something “beneficial aid”. Blood magic? Blood magic. Nevin had it or something. Fenn’s ears flicked up underneath his cloak. This was new to him. So he thought. His mind was not terribly clear right now. Note to self; grill the alchemist about the magic of blood and the funny lines laticing him lat- TITANIA’S TITS, WHAT WAS THAT?

OH SHIT THERE WAS BLOOD AND NEV SAID WORDS, THEN THERE WERE TREE-THINGS GROWING OUT OF THE FLOOR AND THEN THOSE WERE GONE AND- Fenn fell out of the chair, so startled was he. The hiss of clear pain that came with smacking his head on the varnished wood of the counter proved to him that this was not a dream and this was real. Thwack thwack thwack went his heart in his chest.

He peeled himself off the floor and woozily stood back up, barely noticing that his cloak was askew. Alright. His tiny fist thumped against the countertop yet again, demanding attention. This was too weird. He wanted answers.

NO GAMES BITCHTITS, Fenn scrawled, pointing sternly to Amari with his free hand. WHAT THAT? AR-TWO-EL PLUS BLOODSTUFF? WHAT NEED FROM NEVIN WITH IT? NO MESS WITH HIM, GIVE STRAIGHT WORDS, SAY WHY YOU HERE. Mother of Mab, she was shit at just telling people what she wanted. She always had to be blahblahblah-ing up vaguely-ominous sounding sentences about how spooky she could be. Fuck it, he knew that already, even if Nevin was too dense to take a hint. It was starting to try his patience this time; his nerves were frayed enough as it was by sleep-deprivation and bad-memory-slinging. He’d had enough of it for one night.

A bedraggled yet hopeful aside was also written at Nevin.

...IF CAN FIX HER WITH WEIRD NEW MAGIC, WOULD BE NICE.

Scarlet wasn't exactly sure what to expect. She knew that her blood could go one of two ways if he had used it. She assumed it'd just rot away everything it came into contact with. That was what she was used to. That was normal for her. What wasn't normal... what was long forgotten to the red haired assassin... was the feeling that she was able to bring forth life. Heal, and let things flourish around her.

This man. this two-bit giant of a man managed to pull such things out of her... no....out of her blood

"Nice try." Scarlet mused. "Tis a shame you can't quite harness that without it twisting. It'd be useful. Sure, killing someone with just a touch is great and all, but sometimes ya need to get a good ol' dose of healin up in someone to make them talk."

Scarlet shifted her gaze over to Fenn and wandered over to the desk to read what he was writing. She ignored any sort of negative reaction that he gave her. It was all justified after all and it didn't bother the redheaded woman one bit. "Eh? Yes. I'm getting to that. I needed to know exactly what he was capable of before asking him what I wanted from him."

Scarletreached out and tore the hood of Fenns cloak down so she could stare into his pupil-less green orbs. "Tis like asking a beginner cook to make an extravagant meal, when you don't know if he's capable. You don't want to waste your time, nor his. So you want to test his food first." Of course her analogy had to be about food. Scarlet always felt hungry. A hand slid down to the small bump on her stomach and she sighed. Damn thing...

Scarlets eyes narrowed at Fenns newly scrawled words. "I don't need fixing. I'm a means to an end. Quite literally. Nothing more." Scarlet turned her back on Fenn, leaning her backside against the counter.

"Right. Little fae is right. I need you to create several potions using my blood. If you can throw in some that heal great - if it warps. It'd be just as useful. See - I practically run a less-than-reputable bunch of brutes and I need ways of reigning them in. All's fair in pillaging and war - but I can't have them running amok when I'm trying to forge out an empire here. When that's done then they can fuck around all they want. I'm one person. But if those vials....have the same capabilities as myself - then one person turns to many."

"No one, and I promise you no one, is nothing more than a means to an end." Nevin's voice was very soft, but then he shook his head sharply. "It is not my place to interfere in your life. So, then. You wish potions." A strained voice, as Nevin was adjusting to the pounding in his head. He gestured to the broken, rotted branches beneath her.

"I can supply those. I can tap into that healing within you as well - but that, that was crying out to be expressed, to remind. Death is not all there is in this world, life is very much a part. Especially..." There had been a faint note, an undercurrent to the blood. Another magic, it's power mingling with Scarlet's, but currently drowned out - and slowly sipping of it. He bit his lip and was able to keep the flicker of his eyes downwards out of Fenn's sight.

"Right. And yes. That power to decay does run powerfully in your blood, demanding satiation. Tapping into it would be almost painfully easy." Nevin took a deep breath, and rested his hand on Fenn's head. As much as he wanted, desperately, to do more - helping someone who did not want to be helped was folly.

"Fenn." Just the boy's name, and for a moment he was going to shake his head. But the pleading in the boy's eyes - Nevin sighed and turned his gaze back to Scarlet.

"For every vial you want from me, I ask another. That will be my payment. You will decide what your vial does, and I, the other's purpose. I need at least five ounces to create sustainable blood potion." An initial offer - but would she take it?

Since Amari intruded on his bubble of space and yanked up the comforting shade of his hood, the little fae had sat stock-still and bristling like a scorpion with its tail raised. His drooping eyes stung from the slight increase in light seeping into them. Frost crept up his sleeves in disjointed lattices, the air around him dropping a few wary degrees. The proximity of her touch bothered him. He didn’t know what was worse; the quiet festering wrongness of her magic-brightness, or her taking his fury with nothing stronger than a cool stare. Was this how it was always going to be now?

This was becoming frustrating enough to make him want to throw a blizzardy tantrum right in the middle of this store. He could imagine it keenly in his mind’s eye… just letting his emotions and magic reign freely through the room. Cold winds snuffling the candles, snow filling the dim and narrow space, colorful serums flying off the shelves and splattering — shattering — to the ground with total impunity, freezing into a shimmery slush.

But he didn’t.

A nagging feeling sloshed within him, a pressure in his chest that perhaps someday would come to a cold boil and spill out over the top.

He didn’t dare.

It was mostly Nevin’s stern presence that kept him reigned in.

Fenn glanced up at the alchemist with moderate concern, but didn’t press the issue of ‘tis-a-bad-idea-to-interact-with-Amari-even-for-monetary-gain, nor that of fixing the cracking porcelain doll of an assassin before them. Maybe it wasn’t possible. Fenn himself certainly had never been able to help her. Unhappily, he swirled his hand along the desk is aimless frosty patterns, not quite able to meet either of their gazes again as they discussed the worth of the blood-magic stuff she had come for. The little thiefling had many questions for Nevin, and none that he felt confident enough in to ask in front of Amari. Mostly, it was about the blood-stuff. No wonder he gave off a cozy, warm magic-brightness whenever he neared! The boy sighed in quiet triumph at now knowing just what funny secret the alchemist had been hiding all this time. Was his hair red because it was dyed with blood? What could he do with frost fae blood? With Fenn’s blood. Why hide the magic? Was it dangerous, or embarrassing, or stigmatized where Nev came from? What blood-related spells he could perform? This would all have to be investigated… later. When there wasn’t a literal assassin in the room.

An odd thought drifted through the boy’s mind like a dark cloud. As tongue-tied as he was, the boy did manage one question out among his absent doodles. But it was not directed at Nevin.

IF AMARI VIEW SELF AS MEANS TO END, he wrote, THEN WHAT END?

He was already fairly certain of the answer, yet… There were already weird looks being passed around. They didn’t do anything to quench the frustrated flurries that were starting to appear in the air around, nor the thin creak of ice building up on Fenn’s stolen chair. Frayed nerves gave his magic a looser reign to run wild with. His hand went to fidget with the reassuringly chilly pendant under his cloak. A certain calm someone needed to be on the receiving end of his urge to be very loud, very suddenly, for a very long period of time. Hopefully, he’d see Banrion in his next dream.

Scarlet's gloved hand traced over the frosty words and for a small moment the cold hard gaze she wore fell. "My end, Fennick." Her hand rested on the words and the warmth of the contact began to melt away the words. Scarlet knew hers was coming soon. The least she could do for the man-child-frost-fae was to give him a little insight to the angsty, death ridden depths of her mind. "My corruption is killing me. I will quite literally explode with a petrifying force that would decay any living thing within... well..." She paused, she did not know how vast nor how absolute her destruction would be. "It'd be the end. My end." Her hand lifted from the frost and fell to the large round of her stomach. She ran her hand to and fro on it. The thriving creature inside of her was the only reason she had not yet expired. The only reason that Lichensith kept her around. She had a manner of months before it would come kicking, screaming, and crying into an undeserving world and in that instant. Scarlet knew she would no longer be of use.

Her eyes lifted to Fenn's bristled form.

Oh how he had such hatred in his eyes. A fury fueled by a world that had constantly thrown ire toward him. The callous smile returned to her lips. The mask of a cold, dead, madwoman. "Temper, temper." She chided before turning her back to him to address the alchemist.

"So you're essentially using my blood to do whatever the hell you want?" Scarlet stepped away from the counter and toward Nevin's towering form. She reached out and gave him a hard slap on the back. It was a gesture of good will and comrade right? The entire atmosphere in the shop was stiffing and it wasn't just because of her 'eu de death' fragrance. It was a strained stillness from her presence. Fenn was on edge, literally. Ready to explode out of his seat in a tirade of silent anger and ice. Nevin, he seemed less so- but too stifled. All work and no play. He coughed and straightened himself as he slapped her arm away. Well. No humor this guy. Fuckin' bore.

"Fine. Fine." Scarlet said with a few nods as she crossed her arms over her chest. "The fuck do I care what you do with your share, as long as you provide mine and don't screw me over." She paused as she noticed the alchemist look back to Fenn then to herself. "What? need a private moment? I ain't got all day." She tapped her stomach. "Need to eat, lest I grow weak at the knees." She mused in a callous tone, it was a joke. Somewhat. IF she didn't rest she would be unsteady. But they didn't need to know that.

"So how we do this? I just bleed into a few vials and you get shit sorted or?"

Nevin felt Fenn's gaze on him for a long few moments, but whatever the little fae was thinking about remained locked behind his eyes. Instead, the dusky skinned frost fae turned his attention back to the woman in the store, and wrote a question in the ice. The alchemist felt a slight apprehension when he read that question - he doubted that Fenn would like the answer to that question. He didn't know Amari very well, but generally when someone was pushed to a point where they thought of themselves as only a means to an end, they were not in a good place mentally.

But the alchemist himself wasn't expecting the answer. Her own end? And more than that, it seemed like when her 'end' came, it would damage the environment around her. Tied to that horrid decay in her blood, in her magic. He suppressed the shudder as the woman focused her attention back on him, a cold, hard smile spreading on her lips as she dismissed Fenn. He frowned slightly at that - the smile seemed a bit stilted, off. But that consideration was pushed to the side as she asked about the purpose of the blood he was taking. The unexpected slap to his back irritated him more than anything else, and he let out a cough as he pushed her arm away.

"No. No, we do not need a private moment." He turned away from the two, and pulled out four vials. He didn't want to take too much blood at first, it would need done in segments. And he was already thinking of what to make from it - both her blood, and the blood that he was keeping. With time, and access to the blood carrying the taint... well. The research would be interesting, and could lead to a way of aiding or limiting things. He set the vials down on the table, and brought out a thin, sharp knife that he set down on the counter. He gestured to the blade. "You just need to make an incision. Once the blood is exposed, I can handle it from there. Creating the potions you desire will take a few days." Normally he would be able to make them on the spot, with fresh donated blood - but dragging the twisted life from her blood that had fallen earlier had taken a fair amount of effort from him, drained and pulled on his reserves more than he had expected it to. But with the decay that should have come from it, well, he wasn't begrudging it. The damage to his shop alone would have been problematic.

“My end”. Fenn tried not to think of it as a cop-out answer; Amari seemed to have spoken it literally, as in, the literal end of her. He had been looking more for an answer of motivation. A “why”, if you will. A question of “what”, exactly, she was doing with herself. “Temper, temper” his ass. Shaking off a sheen of ice crystals on his cloak, he sighed and let go of the question. It wasn’t going to get a satisfactory answer, and he knew it in a very deep and sad bit of his chest. Even his boundless curiosity knew its limits.

Speaking of which…

When Nevin brought out those vials, Fenn couldn’t help but lean in towards them. Partially because, as always, his first instinct when being presented with a shiny object was to stuff it down his satchel. But more strongly came his curiosity. The boy shyly reached out to take one of them in hand, and scribbled down one of his many buzzing questions on the (rather frosty now) desk. Fuckit, he wanted to know more about this, literal-assassin’s-presence be damned. WHAT CAN DO WITH MY BLOOD? IF YOU DO MAGIC BLOOD STUFF TO IT. He was fairly ready to bleed into a few vials for the sake of magical sciences himself. It was then that Fenn resolved to visit his strange alchemist companion more often. For one thing, this blood-thing was mysterious as all hell, and he wanted to investigate into it at times where a certain crackly-skinned witch wasn’t sucking the air out of the room. For another, Nev needed someone to protect his poor, vulnerable recluse self from people like said crackly-skinned witch.

He stared down into his vial, seeing himself reflected in the glass in the instant before it frosted over. Yes. The boy would protect his fascinating blood-mage friend.

When he was around.

Fenn didn’t exactly linger in places for very long. And he wasn’t sure what, in particular, besides Amari, that he would protect Nevin from. And he really, really didn’t have much power to defend with anyway. But he’d do it!

Faintly, the fae wondered how bloodloss — even a tiny bit — would mingle with his insomnia.

Scarlet glanced over her shoulder at Fenn, the tiny and restless fae. Despite their differences she had a way of knowing what he thought, how his emotions were worn so plainly on ice-covered sleeves. "There is no further answer I can give you. My soul has darkened beyond repair and become everything it should not be. I have chosen to not fight this path and accept it. My life belongs to Master Ulroke, and that life will inevitably be a literal bomb." Her voice was curt, cold, and despite talking about her own demise it held little emotion nor care for her own well being. It was a truth she had accepted, one that she knew would inevitably happen. Once Lye was rid of her, he'd no doubt use her to create some sort of devastation, and use it to grow the Seventh Sanctums influence. Scarlet was ok with that. But, a part of her wished things had worked out differently with the quite literally shaking Fae. That she hadn't brutally tortured him. Ah...but those days were long gone and that feeling was small, a tiny spark of regret that was quickly quashed as it was replaced with the stoic uncaring visage of Scarlet. The assassin. Temporary leader of the Crimson Hand. "Mmm...."

The woman turned back to the tall alchemist. He gave her some sort of dribble on what he'd do, and gestured toward a blade. Did he not see her pierce her own skin? "Tch." Scarlet ignored the blade and dragged her finger across the underside of her arm once more. She then held her palm over it tightly to steep the flow of blood. "A few days is acceptable. I have other business to attend to here, so this works out just fine. I'd rather finish this quickly. I don't think your little friend appreciates my presence."

What could he do with a fae's blood? A Frost Fae's, at that? Nevin stared at Fenn for a moment from the corner of his eyes silently contemplating the question. The truth was, he could do a lot with it, not even dipping into the strange things he knew surrounded the little fae himself. Youthfulness, an affinity to illusionary magics, Frost magics - the list went on at length. In his mind, Nevin was already pulling out a list of potions that could be crafted serums that could be brewed from the potent life-blood of the small fae.

He remembered it. The dollop he had seen before of Fenn's blood, the black ichor that had welled up when the boy had been injured in his shop before. It had sung then, sung of promises of potential and power. Dreams whispered, soft, enticing things, promises of power it could wield. And more, secrets locked away in its depths, waiting to be plundered and used, brought to the surface of that smooth, thick black like dark pearls bead-

Nevin forcibly ripped his mind off of thoughts of Fenn's blood, narrowing his eyes instead. It took him a precious few seconds to refocus his attention on Scarlet, enough that he missed the first thing she was saying. But he did hear most of it though, and his eyes narrowed. A literal bomb? Tied, no doubt, to this decay that sang in her blood. But if that was this Ulroke's plan, then he likely would not like the fact that someone had the counter to that decay, in any form. Nevin would have to keep the blood he was making, the healing light blood, a secret. But first - first he had to focus on the event on hand.

He focused, this time not trying to alter the blood as he had before. No, here, he was just controlling the blood's location, it's shape. The blood of the woman flowed up, crimson and thick, singing dark promises of death and decay - but also, ever so softly, ever so faintly, of life, light, hope. He knew that Scrlet held no value in that hidden potential, didn't see it in herself. But that was fine. He didn't need her to see it, to be able to work with it.

Bottle after bottle filled, and he slowly capped them off one after another. Finally he looked up to her, his red eyes boring into hers. "It is finished. Four days, and you will have your half of the bottles." He stood up, immediately pulling the vials of blood into his coat sleeves and pockets - out of sight and away from prying fingers.

Nevin didn’t say anything. But then, he didn’t have to. His pursed lips and bright eyes spoke of a want, an eagerness, a desire — all things he seemed unwilling to let past his sour lips. The boy returned the mixed stare with a proud grin. His green, green eyes half-closed as he steepled his fingers thoughtfully.

It hadn’t been said aloud — what could be done with fae blood — but Fenn was certain that it was useful.

As Amari doled out her share of life's liquid, Fenn set about filling his single vial. Carefully, he closed his hand into a fist and focused on it, his fingertips tingling with magic. When they fanned open again, a small silver icicle lay in his palm. No way in Sidhe was he using a sharp-y-sharp iron knife to do the deed. Only slightly wincing, the fae made a couple pinpricks in his thumb and waited (with more patience than was common of him) for the oily ooze to fill the vial.

His ears flicked back as his attention turned to Nevin. HAVE BANDAGE? OR BOOZE? HELP MUCH, YES? was scrawled atop the counter again. Perhaps it was a silly question; of course Nevin had alcohol. He always had alcohol. Fenn had occasionally been berated (to little avail) for sticking his nose in the achemist’s stache.

Though, he wasn’t certain how much he could trust a drink with Amari in the room.

…but he could chance it with Nevin here.

BLOOD PAY FOR? MAYBE PAY FOR LAST DAMAGES TO SHOP TOO! The fae looked very, very hopeful as he jotted down the latter sentences. Because boy, Fenn’s visits all too often involved broken doors, stolen merchandise, and shattered glass.

NB: This is fenns fault. Blame the wenn, medicated writes = besr writes.





Scarlet was.... for lack of a better word. Fucking exhausted the conversations that were occuring her were droll, and if she had half a mind - which she did. She'd have to say that this Nevin guy was the MOST boring pile of fuckin' shit she had ever met. All business, no slaphapdashery- no quips, quirks, snide remarks or reactions. Just 'Oh look at me I can do shit with blood, whoop-de-fuckin' do

Scarlet watched with bored, disinterested eyes as the Alchemist lightly grasped her wrist with delicate fingers. Twisting her arm so the blood gently, well as gently as blood can flow- fell into a number of vials. She wasn't bothered by the amount. If Scarlet had more time she'd rip herself in half - right in the middle of the shop. Splash that shit all over the walls, windows... the ever so carefully placed bottles and vials.

Yeh.

Really messy like.

That'd liven the place up a little.

"Well, didn't you take your bloody time with that." Scarlet placed emphasis on the word, thinking it absolutely hilarious. And it was, wasn't it? Her wound shone in a quick, dazzling spark of gold her wound healed. Magic, wasn't it a grand ol' fucking thing?

"Not surprising it's not sooner...." Scarlet mused as she tapped her lips. "But - you are the only blood alchemist around, right?"

She turned on her heel to meet her eyes with Fenn.

Ahh, little Fennick.

If only he weren't shiverin' like a leaf about to fall off a tree in autumn.

Her eyes widened when she watched him, with complete obstinance and in the foolish behaivour that was oh so very fitting on the tiny frost fae- tear into his own flesh. An amused smirk rose to her lips when she approached the table, reading his scrawled out message.

Booze.

Bandages.

Such a simple request.

"Do you really trust drinking with me in the room?" Scarlet asked, and Fenn promptly gave her the bird. With both fingers - waving them high in the air at her, ears flat against his head. Mixture of hatred and fear in his eyes. This - THIS was a reaction. Scarlet gave an amused 'Ha!' as she reached out and toussled his hair.

"Don't worry your lil' noggin. I've done my business. I'm off."

She shifted away from FEnn, lest he accidently shove a finger into her nose, with the way he was waving it around.

"I'll be back in four days. Do try to have fun."

And with that, she was out the door.

The golden sparkle along her wrist made Nevin raise one eyebrow. So she still had enough of a connection with the brighter side of her magic that she could heal herself with that level of ease, even for minor wounds? It seemed she wasn't as far gone as she liked to pretend. And that his pet project in that regard would have a higher chance of succeeding than he had felt.

But first - first he had to deal with the psychotic little fae child that had decided that stabbing his thumb was a good idea. He took Fenn's hand - the one that wasn't currently flipping off Scarlet - in one of his and lifted it up, staring at it. He was shoving the siren song of the blood out of his mind as the woman said something - hopefully an agreement about the time frame, but he couldn't hear it over the singing of his magic.

The injury to the thumb was minor, at best. It was bleeding a bit more than it should have, perhaps, but that was easily dealt with. Nevin pointed his finger at the stool behind the counter. "Sit." He wasn't exactly just telling Fenn to sit though - he very firmly pushed the boy down. "Now stay." And with that he turned and strode round the counter, down one of the aisles of his shop. As an afterthought he moved to the door and locked it - he didn't want to deal with any more customers at the moment - and then he resumed his original reason for coming over here.

He quickly found a simple herbal unguent paste, and picked ip that bottle along with a roll of cloth bandages. The alchemist didn't care to risk anything more complex - he still needed to do tests and find out how Fenn reacted to various compounds. He didn't need a repeat of the disastrous candy incident. Smooth strides carried him back across the wooden floor to where Fenn was sitting. Thankfully the rambunctious child had listened, for now, though Nevin could tell he was itching to do.. Something. Move, hide? He had seemed rather thrown off by Scarlet, but considering they had history he couldn't blame the tiny boy.

"Hand." Nevin set the supplies on the counter and took the proffered hand, then uncorked the unguent. The paste gave off a strong odor - sharp and a bit actinic, it cut through the lingering smell of blood in the shop. Nevin took a small dollop on one index finger, and gently spread it across the spots where small dollops of blood were welding up. The black of the boy's blood mixed oddly with the blue-green herbal paste, and had a rather unsettling color.

Ignoring that, Nevin swiftly cut a strip from the bandages and wrapped it around the fae's thumb, securing the paste in place. That done he let Fenn have his hand back. "There. As for spirits. Do you actually have a preference you nosy brat?" Despite how the redhead usually thought of the fae - Nevin was fully aware that Fenn was likely much older than he was. So he had no real issue with giving the boy some - some - of his alcohol.

PREFER STRONG. ONLY PREFERENCE, the puck scrawled out haphazardly onto the table’s top. His frost was faint; but a bare murmur now that Amari was gone. That scent of decay had wafted out the door along with her. No longer was Fenn flipping out with his middle finger; his energy had vanished. Only a faint squeezy cavity was left behind in his chest. SORRY FOR TODAY WEIRDNESS. PROMISE NOT STEALING ANYTHING THIS TIME, BEING GOOD NOW.

The alchemist gave off a small scoff and set a bottle down in front of the fae, causing him to go cross-eyed staring at it. “I would prefer it if ‘not stealing’ my wares would be the standard rule for every meeting between us.”

Shrug. Unable to hold back a loopy grin, Fenn reached for the bottle, not even bothering to check what it kind was. It was booze. And if it wasn’t, he was so done with the day that he couldn’t care. The bitter liquid was downed in a couple of trusting gulps. Wiping his mouth on his sleeve, he glanced sheepishly up to Nevin and handed the bottle back. His head was comfortably fogging up now. Thoughtlessly, the fae poked at the bandages around his thumb. It tingled comfortably. Nevin didn’t have to fix that. It was such a tiny thing; such a small pain to ease. The puck hoped he at least made good use of the blood sometime. He aware, blearily, of a hand on his shoulder — and then a sheet draped around him. Maybe a blanket. Maybe something like a tablecloth, something one could at least use like a blanket. Fenn glanced up.

“You need rest, young Glenwey,” Nevin spoke, frowning in his common detached concern.

Psssh. Fine. A strangled squeak of agreement was given in reply. Fenn laid his head down on the countertop and closed his eyes. Morning would come, and then he’d be off again. But this was an acceptable arrangement for the night. As he finally drifted off, he swore he heard an affectionate muttering (possibly including the phrase “tiny idiot”), and the clinking of glass as the alchemist went back to tidying his wares, awaiting whatever other mid-night customers would come his way.

Thread Title: When Crimson Met Crimson
Type: Basic Rewards

Nevin receives: 1390 EXP and 104 GP

FenWenn receives: 1180 EXP and 120 GP

Amari receives: 1275 EXP and 105 GP

Inclusive of Fenn and Amari's GP bonuses.

Congratulations!

Rewards added.