When Crimson Met Crimson (Closed)

[Nevin]

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.

[FennWenn]

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.”

[Amari]

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]

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.

[FennWenn]

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.

[Amari]

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]

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.

[FennWenn]

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.

[Amari]

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.

[Nevin]

"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.