When Crimson Met Crimson (Closed)

[FennWenn]

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.