Black Wings

[Stare]

He had to admit, the sound of her claws on her beak was an odd one. It also made him curious - was that a learned gesture, one she was imitating from someone else who scratched their chin while they thought? Or did her beak actually have nerve endings and she could feel itches and the scratching? From what he knew, it was mostly likely an affectation, as bird beaks in natural animals - and in Aphrael - were not sensitive aside from pressure. He blinked and sat back as he tried to figure out how to answer her question. It seemed like she had forgotten their discussion about it back in the prison cells.

“Well. I’ve come to Raeria to investigate Lindequalme. Something about the place is calling to me. And I figured, since I was in the region, I might as well swing by and visit my closest friend.” Here he smiled at her. “This way, if I disappear, you know what happened at least. I'd hate for you to be in the dark if I somehow met my end.” He winced after speaking, realizing too late that that probably sounded rather grim and unpleasant.

“Meet your …?” her brow rose. “Okay, that is not going to happen. I remember you talking about the forest but didn't know that you wanted to do it so soon. It is a very dangerous place.” Folding her arms she ran her eyes up and down him. A spark flared in her mind as she realised he had called her his 'closest friend’. Surprise came into her eyes, but then a firm hand of her own. She was not his best friend in the world, that was silly. One of his closest he had meant to say, or really had said. Obviously. She couldn't let herself get away with too much hope, want and passion. In life she had other things to do than get overwhelmed with the messy politics of best friends.

“At least stay a day or so here. And I can … well at least provide more information. We've got the library at the house for instance.” Maybe she could even go with him. Make sure he did not die. Yes, she thought of him as one of her closest friends herself, a recent acquaintance outside of the closed world of Beinost and Vitruvion's service. But she would not mention that yet - rather she would talk to Vitruvion himself, when she had a chance. “I'm pretty sure we have a treatise on survival in Lindequalme, at least one.”

Hm. Her eyes had lit up for a moment there, before her hand tightened on her arm for a moment. Nevin for a second wished he could read minds - he was curious as to what had run through her thoughts there. As it was, he just rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, sliding his eyes away from her piercing gaze. She was definitely upset with him for his quite poor word choice, and he couldn't really blame her. If she had come up to him suddenly and said she was going somewhere he knew was dangerous, and casually mentioned she was just letting him know in case she died… He winced again.

“Sorry, sorry. I just thought that, of all the people I wanted to let know about my wanderings somewhere, you were top of the list. I don't have many people I care about, and you were there first.” Hopefully the apology would soothe that glare. That, and agreeing with her. He had been informed, rather forcefully, that when he was in the wrong about something, agreeing with the woman would at least mitigate some of her righteous anger.

[Nevin]

The redhead’s eyes went wide and the pupils shrank to tiny dots, the dark red irises swallowing up the black dots as surprise washed over him. He tried to take a drink of tea to buy himself a moment to think, not realizing that his grip had tightened so much the whites of his knuckles were showing through his skin, making the red lines that ran across him stand out in even sharper relief. Nevin had thought that all of the bastards had been been killed. That there was another one of the demonic mages alive…

“Avis, I will gladly help you with those damnable Hunters and the Sabaziosians Any information this one might have about the corruption in my Church is incidental to me at this point - those bastards are the ones responsible for your torment, and I will gladly help you punish them for that. If you have any way I can help, please don't hesitate to tell me.”

Stare blinked a couple of times at the terminology of ‘my Church’ but said nothing. Only a little bit of logic was required to understand that Nevin spoke about the Crimson Church and the cult his background was embroiled in. In a way she herself was part of a secretive, private religious group that though they did not worship had a genuine god at their centre.

“Vitruvion has punished him greatly already,” she spoke soft and quiet, remembering those first hours of hearing the screams, “When we first captured him and later … then he fell into unconsciousness for weeks.” She looked a little uncomfortable. “That side has sort of been taken care of, but we still have not managed to get much information from him, despite … despite how powerful Vitruvion is. But you might have more luck, he might even be able to give you more information for your own purposes.”

Looking right up at him she fixed Nevin the most trustworthy gaze she could summon. “Maybe you might have a way of breaking through to him. There are a couple of issues, but I can work them out. One being where we are having to hold him.” Wincing slightly she stared at him. “The one place you probably do not want to see in this city.”

The one place in the city he did not want to see. It was easy enough to figure out where she meant - the place where she had been tortured, raped, and bound to Vitruvion’s will. But it was also where she had grown strong enough to - not to break free, but to become useful enough to be released from that hell. The Hollow. Nevin took a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

He only wanted to go there to see the place burning. But at this point, his personal desires mattered very little. Stare had asked him for his help, Nevin would give it however he could. He calmly picked up his tea cup and drained it before eating one of the little cakes, then he brushed off his fingers of the crumbs. Finally he met her gaze, and nodded.

“That shall not be an issue. You're asking me, so I shall go down there. I also have an idea of how to get this fellow to share what he knows. And Sir Ellsmith’s protections should be enough to prevent a repeat of what happened last time we questioned one of these men. If not, well. Disposal of bodies from that place probably happen fairly regularly.” He clasped his hands together and set them on the table, meeting her eyes intently.