A Bloody Good Time (Open, Tavern?)

[Nevin]

He honestly hadn't expected she would follow him out. She had seemed a bit stunned as he talked. But, she had seemed aggravated and upset when she had mentioned her eyes - and seeing souls. It seemed that she was used to people dismissing her - and keeping in mind what she had said earlier, about walking with less than pleasant individuals - maybe she was used to people being secretive and avoiding her. But in his case? She already knew the secret he had intended to never let out, so he might as well tell her the rest, and do his best to explain what she'd seen.

A mirthless laugh tumbled from Nevin's lips, and he shrugged slightly, the motion ending with his shoulders in a bit of a slump. He motioned down the street where broken sign for a weapons shop could be seen, with a crude wooden placard planted in front of it proclaiming an alchemist's store.

"My home, such as it is, is down there.
I picked this Tavern because, well, I have issues finding out where I'm going if too many turns are involved." He drew up his shoulders and glanced towards her, then down to the spot where one hand was now covering a wrist, then back up to her face. Finally he gave a shake of his head and chuckled weakly.

"I'd be grateful for the help, but I don't know how possible it is. What was done to me... Well.
It twisted and altered me beyond what a normal human should be able to do." Nevin had no clue as to who her 'master' was - but the fact that he was apparently always listening spoke of some kind of magical bond, and a powerful one, if her master was back in her home city, in another continent. And - apparently capable of talking to her, he would guess. Was he why there had been moments where she had been distracted? That kind of bond was.... Unpleasant. Nevin normally valued his privacy, and the thought of someone always hearing him and being able to speak to him made him uncomfortable. Still - it wasn't his cross to bear. He did appreciate e the warning about her master - but his secret had already been slipped to this other man, and even the faint mention of hoe of help... He made it to the door of his shop and unlocked the latch on it, and held it open for her to enter.

[Stare]

Stare regarded the young alchemist for a while before cawing a neutral note. It said in kenku, "Oh well then. I guess that is it really," and was a little microsecond of a sound. She tugged down her sleeves until they were beyond the heels of her scaled hands. Then, taking a breath, she did as Nevin suggested, moving past him in a simple number of strides, going from the dusk into the dimness of the shop.

An alchemist's shop. Made clear by his mention, the sign outside ... And the dramatic content of this place. Carefully she let her eyes flicker around, picking out the various items and pieces or furniture that established this as a shop front. A worktop, that barred direct access to a doorway at the back. This was clearly the counter. Extending from it, covering various parts of walls was a series of shelves, with plants, elements of plants, small containers and other unusual contents. Soft light came in through a couple of windows and the whole place seemed welcoming yet purposeful. Truly an alchemist's shop, filled with herbology wonders.

Looking back to Nevin she waited for him to follow her in. Blinking slowly she took in his figure, taller than her of course, and so human. So gloriously human and normal and of a race that had meant to walk these streets. Her on the other hand - she was a representative of a garbage pile, a lost cause. But one who had been found by the son of the god who had made her race and so ... And so ...

"The man I work for is powerful. Truly. You'd be surprised with what he has been capable of in the past. Though I'm not his biggest fan," she ran a hand through the feathers at her head, "He's got resources and a lot more magic than anyone I know. And not even of a particular kind." Slowly her hand dropped, and she seemed less confident.

"Sorry. You were going to tell me your past," she clasped her hands together and stilled, going silent. And at the back of her mind the presence of Vitruvion made himself known. Listening. Contemplative.

Powerful.

[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)

[Stare]

With the undisputed patience of a dignified listener, she waited for him to finish. Drinking in every last word she let the description of his past - the family of horrors, the spine-chilling sacrifice and the repeated ceremonies. Blood boiled in her like it did beneath the surface of his pale flesh, a myriad of reds and pinks that curved and snaked their way like gang tattoos. But she could see the truth in them, and the truth in the crude slice that had been carved from his soul in the process - for he was in pain, both spiritually and psychologically, his past scarring him in the same way his cult had him physically.

It was intriguing to note that he spoke of himself in the third person. That the story was of, "the child," only moving to "my" and "me" when the connection to his harmed soul came to be known. When the part that affected him perhaps the most, that human sacrifice that he very likely had felt some guilt over in life, came into the narration it was suddenly his tale. Not some distant person from a fantastic novel. Instead it was him, it was his life, his pain. That which he had been trying to avoid to admit came with the full force of the admittance that his soul was truly not complete ... or rather it was too complete. It had another soul, another existence, pulling at it, and so many wrongdoings else scarring him. All wounding Nevin's soul through the unnatural ritual of blood magic, and the taint of a terrifying childhood. Giving him another man's life to endure. Becoming "me" when two identities had been merged, when he had truly become ... him. And not the person before.

She opened her beak to speak when he had told the result of the ritual, and what he had done post. With her body full of questions, and likely many more at the other end of the presence she could not read the emotions of but could feel the weight off, she took a breath in - but was cut off as the alchemist continued.

"... 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. ..."

He ... is a blood mage, came the awed, quiet voice of Vitruvion.

And it made Stare going equally as speechless. Rare was it that anyone ever made the god become stunned. In his more than one hundred years of life, and with all the experiences he had seen of his father literally making life, Vitruvion was rarely shocked. It was in his nature to be above all surprise, above all shock. So when his voice came through like a mouse's, Stare was lost also. All of her questions vanished to meaninglessness, as she began to understand the potential power behind what had happened to Nevin.

I do not think so but ... check if he is lying.

Just as curious, Stare slipped into her aura sight. Still there was the light green halo around the alchemist, as well as the tear that was slowly fizzling out of sight right now. But also there was the pulsing light of an honest and true person, coming directly from his heart.

Which meant there was no doubt about it.

The gods be damned ... Vitruvion whispered. Maybe there is nothing I can do for him after all.

Stare slowly returned back to her normal vision. She apologetically bowed her head slightly to Nevin before offering a small sigh.

"I am sorry I made you tell me that," she replied. "But thank you. It is an honour to be in the presence of someone who has the potential for so much power ... but I have to apologise. He thinks he might not be able to help after all. It is ... complicated, blood magic is, of what the little I know of it ..." she smiled in her eyes and visibly relaxed a lot.

"Maybe then I need to tell you more about what I can do? But I am afraid to say it is not so as exciting."

[Nevin]

Nevin slowly rolled down his sleeves, a rueful smile on his face. He left the gloves off though as he stepped behind the counter and began rummaging around beneath it. He brought up a small pale blue bottle and two glasses, which he set down on the counter top. Before he answered her, he opened the bottle and poured out a clear liquid - which even from feet away Stare would be able to smell as alcohol - into one of the glasses. He tossed the shot back and filled both glasses, pushing one gently towards her as he tried to calm the trembling running through his body.

"I... I thank your Master for even looking, but I think I already knew it was unlikely he could help. Even if he could somehow separate our souls -
I've lived for years now as who I am now. What might have been possible to undo at the start, most definitely no longer is. You're the first though." She was the first in several regards. The first to see the scars, the corruption that spread across his skin, the first not to flinch away at the mere mention of blood magic. But most definitely the first to say he had potential. The potent alcohol went down his throat as he emptied his glass again, his eyes watering slightly at the burning sensation.

"I don't know what those rituals were powered by, the books or manuscripts or however the cult learned of them were all destroyed when they performed their last ritual. For all I know, they knocked on the door of Something Else, and It found them wanting. Don't know why I survived it though." More alcohol went into his glass, and he leaned heavily on the counter in front of him.

"Come then, Miss Stare, tell me your tale. I've...well, I remember traveling more than a fair bit,
and I've heard many stories, some of them mundane and some bizarre. Only a few though, that have to do with souls." Despite the fact that he had had a fair amount of alcohol that night, Nevin's mind was still sharp as he focused his dark red gaze on her.

[Stare]

He said 'thank you,' she chided.

Vitruvion gave a mental, hmmmm, and leant back, showing him cupping the goblet at an angle to his body, the other arm tucked beneath the elbow. Steady. Aristocratic. Portraying the noble he had given himself the title for. Then he loosed two fingers from their careful grip on the goblet and like a true lord, gestured imperially. You may go on.

Grunting, as was her usual go-to response, Stare looked back directly at Nevin. And took in a long breath before reaching for the alcohol offered to her. Taking it up she chugged back the transparent liquid with one gulp and a very avian upraising of her beak. Her throat pulsated as the beverage moved down her throat and her stomach suddenly felt warm.

"What I do is not so much to do with souls as my eyes," she gestured a single clawed finger at one. Then, taking a pause she lowered her hand again, and set the glass back on the table. "For my own story there is nothing as dark as yours. As far as I have been told my parents began as a warrior and the daughter of a blacksmith." She lifted her eyes to steadily stare right at Nevin. "My people live in 'flocks' as I told you, with a shogun ruling each. What I did not say was that these flocks war with each other. A lot. My parent's clan, the Rooks, once battled with another about something like boundaries, and anyway, my twin elder brothers refused an order, my father begged for their lives, and our shogun's heir ended up dying. My brothers were blamed, my father also and our family ended up being made classless. That is, kerageta. It means 'dirt'."

She sifted slightly, dropping her eyes to the counter. "I was just a babe then, and my name was Avis." Steadily she traced a line in the knotwork. "One by one my family died, and by the time I was fourteen I was just by myself. I left the community of the lawless ones I had spent my life with and went travelling. I came to Beinost. And ... met a baker who took me in."

Raising her eyes back to Nevin she let her eyes shine for a bit. "Yes. I bake. Actually rather well, though I say so myself. I can also fight - my father taught me. Baking was my mother's lasting gift, how to handle knives was his. Anyway. A month or so passed and my ... appearance apparently caught someone's eye. I was kidnapped one day, and woke up underground bound in ropes." Her tongue clicked at the side of her beak as she reached back to see how Vitruvion was reacting to this, but he seemed perfectly calm. In fact he sent her a picture of his relaxed stance, with the amused smirk playing on his lips. Reminding her just how much she could not get away from him, the one who had ruined her life.

Waving a hand she sighed. "Anyway. I found out I was now in a place that they call the 'Hollow,' and was to ... basically be the sex slave of a maniac. My name was changed, to Stare. I was trapped there for ..." she counted off her fingers, "Four months about, raped, bound, caged, and beaten on fairly regularly basis, until the bastard realised I was suddenly, for the first time in my life, displaying signs of magic. There was a moment when I tried to escape ... that had its consequences of course, and I began to be taken on field trips, to go and be used as a weapon against his enemies. Eventually I apparently got too useful. I stupidly saved his life and he gave me this bloody present," she raised her left hand, finally letting the sleeve slip down to reveal the dull grey metal cuff on her hand.

"It allows him to see and hear everything I do, and to see my surface thoughts, though I never really know if he is there. It also allows us a mental connection." She could positively feel Vitruvion's pride at the creation of the cuff pulsing through her. He was grinning, thinking that it had been the greatest idea he had come up with in a good long time.

She sighed. "Anyway, yeah we discovered some stuff. That my people aren't from this world, and I found out just how powerful he is. I got promoted, which was nice, I guess. We also discovered that my magic is exponentially gaining in power rapidly, for reasons I understand but cannot go into. As I said they are to do with my eyes," she stared back at the quiet, still human. Her eyes caught his. "I can see a person's aura, their soul."

She tapped the glass, "Any chance for any more?"

[Nevin]

Nevin felt an interesting array of emotions run through him as his guest spoke. Fascination at first, curiosity at the lifestyles of an alien culture that was even further removed from humans than Elves or Dwarves might be. This was replaced with an ache in his gut as he spoke of the loss of her family’s standing, their exile, and subsequent demises. The pain in her words even now as she spoke of being alone at such a young age, which was muted - muted, not replaced - by the happiness when she spoke of her adoptive mother, and her talent at baking.

All of that faded into a low fear when she mentioned being kidnapped. She spoke almost dismissively of a cruel treatment at the hands of the man who had taken her - somewhere in a tiny corner in the back of his head Nevin noted that at some level Kenku and… Another race, since she hadn't mentioned what her master was, could have intercourse, though this was the most disgusting way to learn that information - but even so, the fact that she had been abused and treated so maliciously had banished his dread that had been present at the start.

No. Kept firmly under lock and key was a cold rage, and simmering disgust. Not with Stare - not with Avis. He might call her Stare aloud, where her ever present master could hear, but as his eyes locked onto the cuff that bound her to the man, Nevin knew he would always refuse to truly think of her as that. His disgust and rage were focused on who had torn her from her previous life and made her his slave.

He wiped his face of any hints of emotion - not a hard task when he was already keeping his emotions in check - and knocked back another shot of the alcohol as she finished speaking, before her eyes focused on his face. He poured them both another glass of alcohol and sat quietly for a moment.

“You say that your tale is not as dark as mine, but from where I sit that's not so. Both of us lost the lives we had before, became new people who maybe only resemble those we were before. Who I was, no matter which individual you consider as my start, was quite literally killed when I was born. You were not so lucky. ” What Nevin voiced, left unsaid was not sympathy or pity - but commiseration.

He slowly swallowed his alcohol this time, letting the burn sit in his mouth for a moment before sliding down his throat. In a way, as much as he might have hoped that her ‘Master’ would have a way of freeing him from what he had become, he was also quite glad that even this powerful mage didn't think he could.

Nevin did not want to think about being in debt to that man. Instead he cleared away his anger, instead focusing on the information she had given him at the end. He made sure her drink was refilled before addressing her eyes.

“I wonder then, if the effect upon your eyes is tied to a genetic disposition - perhaps your parents had similar quirks? Or your brothers by chance; a minor oracular skill could have shown them that the order they disobeyed would lead to deaths, and sought to avoid it? Still, with no others left in the family, that would be impossible to determine.” This was said in a clipped tone - similar to when he had been taking notes earlier and muttering to himself. “Or perhaps it is tied to the connection between yourself and your Master - the bond between the two of you slowly feeding some of his power to you, adapting it to your body? Avians the non-sentient ones, are often noted for keen eyesight, this may be a magical evolution on that same concept. You're…” He shook himself abruptly, keeping himself from thinking about the bond in depth.

"Any time you've a wish for quiet company that will not judge you, or in any other case. You are welcome here, Miss... Stare. You've already seen the worst side of me, after all. No other secrets I need to hide." No other secrets, but a new goal, perhaps.

[Stare]

Stare chugged back the alcohol with ready willingness. As soon as she had finished it she set the glass down onto the worktop again and gestured for more. Nevin seemed eager to placate her, beginning after a moment of silence to talk.

He spoke of how they were both new people now. How he was a man of two lives and two memories and she was kenku born of strife and living with hatred. It was good and refreshing, the way he spoke, as if they shared a common pain. But even as he commented on how her part was worse in ways, she feverishly refused to accept it. Whatever it was, she had just been locked away for six months total. He, for sixteen years.

Nevin changed the subject with commenting on where her power might have come from. A welcome change, for it made Stare feel a little more hopeful as she chugged down get another shot of the clear alcohol. As he began to mention Vitruvion and his possible gifting of her abilities Stare's heart began to thump, scared in a second's length of momentum that wildly, Nevin might be able to guess the whole situation. That Vitruvion was a god. That her powers had shown up because his father had created her people. Because of a long history of the kenkus forgetting who they were. Because of all those years of lost power coalescing into one.

"Kenkus very rarely have power," Stare shook her head. "My brothers had nothing, I am sure of it. I don't even remember anyone having any magic. Aside from maybe the high priests. But that could have been simple tricks." She checked on Vitruvion for a moment, but felt no change. Still he sat, just simply listening. "I don't think that is right ...

"But your offer of a place here. That I would be grateful of. It is rare to find ... Kindred spirits in places. And if you ever need a huge library to get lost in ... I can offer you mine," she paused. "Well. His." She shrugged limply. "I guess I've told you my worst secret too. That I'm not even a free person. You know he actually has forged documents from a Keribas slaveport that has me declared as his property." She rolled her eyes. "What is it with meglomaniacs?"

She looked at him straight. "So tell me more. What else can you do with your blood magic? And I'll tell you more of what my eyes do."

[Nevin]

"Hm. So only the divinely touched had any hint of magic? Strange." There was... something to that, he was sure, but Nevin couldn't place it, not yet. Instead he focused on the offer of the library to look through - and truth be told, the offer was tempting. There were probably interesting things held within those tomes - possibly places where he could get inspiration for his own magic? He was still developing it after all, the power still growing in new ways as he became more familiar with it. He let out a soft, dry chuckle at the question about megalomaniacs though.

"From what annals of history I recall, megalomaniacs are often that way for a few reasons. The most common? No one told them 'no' enough times when they were young. Though having forged documents is a feather in his cap - I don't think those are easy to come by." The second most common he didn't feel like bringing up with her - lack of parents in the young person's life. That...was a little too close to home for the both of them to not be a prickly topic. He filled her glass again and slowly sipped on his alcohol - they had burned through nearly half of the bottle on the counter, not that he was about to tell her that. If they needed it to get through this conversation, he had more. A moment was spent thinking about her last question, Nevin's eyes focused on the back of his hand as he swirled the alcohol in his glass.

"As for what my magic can do - it's still showing that to me. When I first figured out that I wasn't going crazy, I found out that I could..... amplify an aspect of a being's existence, distill a portion of what they were into a quantity of blood. For example - a venomous snake. A core aspect of what that snake is, is the venom that it carries in its fangs, no?" This... was the first time that he had had someone he could speak with about his magic without them seeming squeamish, or thinking him mad or evil. The prospect was invigorating, and it showed as his mood began to brighten. "Well. If I have the blood, or the blood-filled corpse, of such a snake, I can distill, quantify, imbue, a portion of the blood with the essence of that venom. Almost like I was taking the venom, but not quite - in the blood it is.... not quite the same, more magical in nature. After all, how can you have venomous blood? Poisonous perhaps. But the concept remains. Primarily what I use it for?" He gestured behind him, towards the cabinet where two crimson vials glowed slightly in the dusky light that filtered through the windows of the shop.

"I can take the vitality of most animals, and distill it into a fluid - a 'potion' - that can heal and mildly rejuvenate the body of the imbiber. That is the most crude and simplistic usage of the skill though. No, it expanded when I discovered that I could then take blood that I had distilled through the first manifestation of my power, and imbue that essence into something else. When this is done - well, it depends on what I've imbued with the blood. Experiments with alchemical reagents have shown that from then on, no matter what other steps I take in the process, using an imbued reagent will grant a reflection of the 'Essence' that was used to the concoction. Instead of one effect, I can compound two or more, even with simplistic, neutral herbs that are quite easy to procure." He drained his glass into his mouth and set it down, his eyes gleaming in excitement. "There's one more trick that I've managed to come up with, but first I'd here more of your eyes. They are...fascinating." He said this while staring at her, watching her expression. He knew that when it came to a topic he was passionate about he could go on extended diatribes - hopefully this hadn't put her off.

[Stare]

As soon as he said, "Divine," Stare froze. Caught in a moment of panic she tried to flounder about what she had said, digging around for the source of how she had let it slip out. She had been very deliberate, not aiming to speak of Vitruvion as a god, but rather as a powerful mage. That was all. In her imagined thoughts she could feel the bouts of pain that would rack her body when she got home, the torture, the horror, the possible death for letting Nevin know that Vitruvion was a god ...

Idiot. You told him that priests could do magic. That is the connection he made. Not to me. The man at the back of her mind leant back and rolled his eyes. Despite your flaws you have kept your promise to me, Stare.

A breath escaped her lungs. Dearly, she hoped that Nevin had not noticed. He had not seen her wife eyes and still form, or rather had just mistaken it for her normal strange ways. In any case, whether by politeness or else, he was continuing his speech. He was speaking of his powers, as she had asked him to, about how he could, for instance, take the poison from a snake's blood. Also, he was explaining, he could create healing potions and the like, by using the internal strength of the features he had placed in the blood potion. It could also be combined with herbs, apparently, and maybe potions. Stare was distracted now from her moment of panic, her mind suddenly wild with ideas.

"I'd like to know more about your eyes. They are ... Fascinating."

Certainly that they are, Vitruvion commented.

Stare consciously directed her attention to him. What?

My dear, you know why I promoted you from Hollow guest to steward. You are here to tell him about you. Now say what you wish. Elegantly, he gestured like before.

Stare blinked a few times but nodded. "I guess ... Well I can slip into what we tend to call the aura sight. That is where I see someone's soul. It appears as a sort of glow around their being ... Like an aura. Depending on what colour it is also lets me know what personality they have, what intentions they might have. You, for instance are a pale green." She paused. "You are pretty neutral in your opinion on laws, evil, how the world should be run, that sort of thing. But you do have a tendancy towards good. Also your heart has a white pulse to it. You are being honest with me. Every step of this conversation. And I know for definite you are male, are ... twenty one years of age. And your scar on your soul ... It appears like a rip, an open wound. The edges of it are raw like flesh with blood sometimes scattered there ..." She fell silent, rubbing a hand up her arm. As she did so she tugged her sleeves back down, hiding the cuff from view. Her eyes dropped to the drink on the counter and she watched the shimmers of white light wandering through it for a while.

"I can also see perfectly in the dark, see ... Heat. As in what forms are hot in a room, so what is a person, what isn't. I know, that one is weird. I'm still trying to comprehend it myself. But what I can also do is use my emotions to ... Impact my sight. So far I can stun a person, we have found I can distract a person. I can also ..." She shifted slightly. "Cause ... The skin to die. Vitru- my master or knobhead, whatever you want to call him, wants me to concentrate on this one."

She grabbed the bottle and poured them both another drink. "That's really it. So far. Though I think I'm starting to see what I can only describe as people's energies. As in, their flows of magic, owner or other. They have different colours too and flow like internally ..." she looked up at Nevin and realised she was rambling.

"Sorry. So, question. What do you think you could do with my blood then?"