The redhead alchemist was actually in a fair amount of shock at the moment. He hadn't realized when the man had woken up, distracted as he was by the by play of the connections and bonds between them. And trying to process the fanatical devotion that this man possessed towards him. It was frightening, actually. Eteri’s devotion was explained, at least in part, by their love, it had a definable origin and a basis. Others might be disturbed by how he and his girlfriend felt for each other, but at least it was rooted in a bright emotion.

This man though, this vagabond. His devotion seemed to spring from nothing, it had no basis beyond its own existence. There was also a sense of obligation, like the vagabond felt like it was his duty to do - something. The drunkard reached up and grasped at the Alchemist’s shirt, his yellowed, bloodshot eyes locking onto Nevin’s glowing crimson orbs. “You.. My king. You would make me into art?” His voice was raspy, but almost desperate. “Art that - has a purpose, even?” He pulled himself upright with his hold on Nevin’s shirt.

“I - what?” The man leaned forward, and Nevin could smell the wash of alcohol - but it was not strong at all. Had the man just splashed himself with booze and fallen asleep?

“My king. We live to serve you. You showed us glorious, wonderful art, and helped Stefan ascend into something truly beautiful. Your love for the Lady, and your fury at him, transcended, gave us something truly spectacular to behold. And now, now I learn, I might be honored to take part in another display of your love for the lady. How could I possibly refuse?” His hand was trembling on Nevin’s shirt. “Please, my king. Give my life worth. Let me serve you and the lady.” His breathing was growing quicker, and his eyes were wide with a twisted anticipation. “All I ask - is that you let some of the others witness it. Let them see you take this life, and use it to make something great. Rip the blood from me, and use it to feed and sustain the lady, for the Gallery to observe your wondrous art once more.”

Nevin was frozen, staring in shock at the man. This was - even more than Eteri, this man was ready to die. No, he seemed to crave it, even. Nevin didn't know how to handle that - or how to handle his request. He swallowed, roughly, and closed his eyes, letting his magic fade from them. As the gallery member had been speaking, Nevin had been witness to the truth and sincerity in the man, and his actual, keen desire to be made into ‘art’. Thick flow, the man legitimately desired to have Nevin kill him, in front of a crowd of his peers.

What in the hell was he supposed to do here? He desperately wanted to help Eteri, to extend her life span. And so far, he hadn't been able to figure out a way of doing it that didn't involve killing someone else. Not yet, at least. And now here, was someone who was obsessively devoted to him, begging him to kill him for just that reason. It wasn't just ‘acceptance’ in the fanatic’s emotions, it was an actual, literal yearning.

Nevin stood up abruptly, disengaging from the man’s hand and stepping away. His eyes were still closed, as he drew in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Without looking at the man, he gave his answer. “Spread the message, and set up a place to do it. I am not like Stefan, I have not planned and organized this. But - if you so desire it, I shall not refuse your offer.” The vagabond let out a loud gasp, clearly pleased, and kissed at Nevin’s coat before stammering out words.

“my ki-my king, thank you! Thank you. Oh my king, this shall be the most glorious moment of my life. I - I will go, there are those who have the knowledge on how to secure a venue. We all know you are an impromptu artist, and that merely adds to the worth of your art, my king! Oh, thank you! I - someone will come for you this evening, to bring you to the location.” He kissed at Nevin’s coat again, then rushed to his feet, and out the door.

The alchemist was gripping the wooden counter, hard, his fingers digging against the edge. When the door closed behind the fanatic, Nevin let out a loud gasp, and his body sagged, almost like a puppet with its strings cut. He - even with this being an eager, ready sacrifice, someone who greatly desired it, Nevin was still not truly okay with what he was going to do. Only the need to help Eteri, and the fanatic’s clear desire to have this happen, were preventing the redhead from rejecting this entirely.

“Master Nevin~” He heard her purr from behind him as her hands snaked around his waist. He drew in a deep breath slowly, as he felt her forehead press against the mid of his back.

“This good. He willing. We can use those necklaces and make him art and make Eteri live longer.” She was trying to comfort him but her words were macabre and spoken in a cheerful tone.

“This is what it means to be a God.”

He let out a sharp, almost bitter, laugh. “To accept sacrifices, in order to pursue a goal? That's not just part of being a God my love. That's also part of being dedicated.” ‘Obsessed’, he added internally. He knew he was obsessed with Eteri. But he couldn't really bring himself to care. She made him happy like nothing else had in his life so this was one obsession he would never try to break. “But.. I suppose a normal person wouldn't be able to do, what I will be.” Most couldn't. Thick flow, the closest he knew of, was either in some obscure necromantic art, or in the tested, forbidden knowledge of the philosopher’s stone. Neither of which he was willing to delve into. Not when - his own, innate powers, would allow him to drain the life force from a willing donor and replenish his own as he pushed it into Eteri.