A Bloody Good Time (Open, Tavern?)

[Nevin]

Nevin followed her inside, closing and latching the door behind him - he'd rather not have any unexpected guests coming in at this point. That done, he walked over to the counter and turned around, leaning his back against it as he looked down at Stare. This was the first time he'd actually taken the time to look at her while standing up - outside of the Tavern he had been in too much consternation to really notice how small she was. Tiny, and now without her confidence that had been flowing strongly, she seemed almost... Frail? But he well knew appearances could be deceiving.

Off came the gloves, once more revealing the harsh red lines that ran along his skin. Now he rolled up his sleeves to the elbows, showing that the lines had continued on up his arms, disappearing underneath the bunched up sleeve - it wouldn't take a genius to know that the vivid lines kept going, out of sight.

"Indeed I did, and so I shall. I don't doubt your master's power, Miss Stare, don't mistake that.
It's the understanding I doubt will come - I still have trouble believing it, and I lived it." Absently, one finger trailed along the mess of lines, seemingly following one in particular. He looked up to her abruptly, focusing his eyes on her.

"I left off saying that they continued rituals on the child every few months. When the child was just reaching his teenage years - roughly sixteen winters he had seen - they began another one. The child never objected to these - why should he have? The cult was everything, he barely knew which two people in it were his parents. But the cult was all he knew, the rituals a common occurrence in his existence. So when they brought a stranger in, the child thought nothing of it." Nevin closed his eyes at this point, squeezing them shut so he didn't have to watch her reaction to what he was saying.

"The stranger was a traveler, a man from outside the town. The next ritual the cult was performing required a human sacrifice - and though they all were devoted to the cult, the people living in that village all wanted to see what came after. So they found an unwary traveler, a man who had stopped in the inn for the night. He... Was not prepared, when they came in for him." Nevin's finger began to dig into the skin that 'covered' the raised red line.

"I know now, that that was a mistake on their part. They should have chosen one of their own. The sacrificial ritual ripped the man's life apart, pulled it apart at the very seams - and merged it with the child's, in an impossible act. I woke up, screaming from that. I now had the knowledge, the understanding that the man had had, some of his views and beliefs had overcome mine - how could a boy of sixteen years overcome the experience of a full grown man, cut down in his prime? But I also knew, then, that what my 'family' had done to me was wrong on levels that could barely be understood. That is probably where the damage you see to my soul comes from. What they were trying to do took me... Longer to figure out, after I had... Dealt with the cult." He brought his arm up in front of his closed eyes. The crimson lines were glowing faintly, an unnatural light shimmering inside of them.

“They had been following something. Afterwards, I first thought it had been a Vampire, playing some sick and twisted game on a village of gullible humans, but I'm not so sure of that any more. Maybe it was something else, something not quite of this world that seeped in, got its hooks into them. That doesn't matter - though if I find any clues about it, I will be hunting them down. The result though? I was still recovering, trying to comprehend having lived two lives, one of obedience to the village and the other as a traveler who had been sacrificed up for their abominable schemes. They performed one more ritual, and this time I know they didn't anticipate what would happen to them. That ritual? Sucked the blood from their bodies, drained the village dry. At least, most of it - I think some might have escaped, been absent when the ritual occurred. But the blood from the village, well.” The coldly calm voice paused as he gestured at his arm.

"As far as I can tell, you're seeing it. It sings to me, you know, sings when exposed blood is nearby - the blood upon you is a faint hum, a gentle susurration that scratches at the back of my mind. Whatever else the rituals intended to do, make me a vessel perhaps, or just change me into what I am now…. I can, to some degree, manipulate blood. Not in ritual magic, as is the norm - I can work it directly. Maybe they wanted to make a mage who was disconnected from the Tap, but if that was the case, I think they failed. So. There you have it.” Finally he opened his eyes again. He had said more than he intended to - he had not meant to say that he could work blood magic, but by then she and her master had already known enough that he couldn't bring himself to care about the words slipping from his lips.

He slumped back, sinking his weight more heavily onto the countertop behind him. The calm cold that had blanketed him as he spoke had left him, and now he felt… Drained.



(I actually didn't process the height difference earlier lol)