deercountry | November Catch-All (Mostly Closed)

Every word Nehan speaks next is loaded-- he talks about revenge, and knows exactly what it's like to plan for it, and then take it.

"I have a vested interest in making the zealots pay."

Any other doctor would have said something along the lines of "this is not a person anymore" to soothe a guilty conscience. But Nehan has thrown away the trappings of guilt long ago, save for certain times that may never come up again, and he's just used to committing atrocities at this point.

"I'd rather let their victims come back to take revenge, but until that happens, I'm going to do it myself." His ears flutter as he holds out his hand to take the hunting knife back. It's his personal weapon after all.

"To launch an effective revenge, you need to know who you're dealing with, and if that means taking one of their number apart to study them, then so be it."

Edited 2021-12-01 09:24 (UTC)

Childe hands the hunting knife back as Nehan finishes his last sentence, amused. It wasn't the response he was expecting, but it was one that he neither blamed him for nor would condemn given the circumstances. He can absolutely work with this guy- he reminds him very much of the several contacts he had through the Fatui back home.

As he's said before, the Fatui call people like Nehan who also walk in the shadows as friends.

"That certainly goes against the saying "do no harm", now doesn't it."

But the laugh that comes after that statement contains no animosity, only curiosity and amusement.

"Since that's the case, how about I make you a deal? I'll bring whatever bodies you require here as I come across them as long as you let me continue to practice blood manipulation here in your basement. And I wouldn't mind learning a few tricks or two about it from you while I'm at it."

"I'll teach you first the spell to extract darkblood, if you don't know it yet." And by that, the Erune means yes, he accepts those terms. Nehan cleans the bloodied knife with alcohol and wipes it dry, but doesn't replace it on his holster, not yet.

Near the steps leading back up to the house, a wolf with dark fur and sunshine-yellow eyes lounges, having suddenly appeared while Nehan was performing blood magic. The Erune is aware it's there, one ear turned towards it but he doesn't verbally acknowledge its presence. Perhaps it's familiar to Childe, when it was with Nehan during their first meeting.

"But for effective blood manipulation, you need to know the basics-- the veins and arteries, and the like."

He senses they are being watched from the steps, paying the wolf no mind. He does recognize it from their first meeting, knowing that it wasn't any kind of wild animal that's just wandered into the Erune's house. Instead, he opts to focus back on the matter at hand- this zealot and the partnership he's about to enter into.

"I don't know any formal spells for this kind of thing," he admits, "since I'm self taught, so far. I'd be delighted to learn that spell, and everything to do with how blood flow works in the body."

He turns again to the zealot on the table, examining the cut and placing his hand once again over the arm where Nehan has tried his hand at it. Focusing, he can sense how much further Nehan has opened the vein up than he had, noting that due to the sluggish blood flow, that it could possibly be opened farther. There was a lot to learn here, he thinks.

"Would you mind doing the honors of opening this vein up completely? I think knowing exactly how far it needs to be open will be a good first step, if not that but for the sake of keeping this zealot alive."

Nehan nods, unbothered by the request, knowing that Childe would prefer to defer to him when it comes to this. He takes the zealot's hand once more, concentrating on the magic that still doesn't come easily to him, given his lack of experience. But it will come soon enough, he just needs practice.

But Nehan knows how far he can open the veins without making it burst-- he just has to pay attention to the colors under the pallid skin.

Isn't that funny, a creature even more pale than himself, a man who hasn't seen the sun in over a year.

"In the meantime, please get the shears I used earlier for cutting clothing." Then, after a second's deliberation and breathing in as he continues channeling his magic into the creature before them, "and the two markers in my bag as well. Having a body is a good a time as any to show you the blood vessels."

Finding the shears, he steps over to rummage through the bag that Nehan has directed him to get the markers from. After a few moments, he returns with the requested items, excited to learn something new that he believes will help him be even more effective, inside and outside of battle. He notices that the blood underneath the skin is becoming more visible, much like a normal arm would if you were looking at the inside of the forearm.

"I didn't think I'd be getting a lesson already, but I'm more than ready to learn. Should I be referring to you as professor, instead?"

Because they don't go into the detail that he's expecting Nehan to go into in grade school. He waits for further instruction, placing the markers and the shears next to Nehan on the table for easy accessibility. He'll do his best to be a good student.

Nehan has to snort. Professor... right. He never even apprenticed under proper doctors, unless one included his parents, in which case... Ah, nepotism.

"There's a body similar to a human's right here, and majority of people in this world are human. Why let the opportunity slip us by?" Nehan tucks the markers into his pocket and takes up the shears to start cutting the zealot's clothing. For thinner fabric, he simply cuts without a care, but when he comes to the leather, he looks for the seams first and cuts those before peeling the pieces away.

But he pauses every so often to flex his left hand so it doesn't get numb so quickly. Even if he's finding more use for it nowadays, it's difficult. He has to make sure not to overdo it.

"I learned with corpses, myself."

The sight of the body, once fully nude, is a terrible one. It's emaciated, not a pretty sight, cuts and bruises and old wounds everywhere, with many modifications that would almost render it unusable for their purposes if the body were not mostly intact. One leg is gone, with a prostetic in its place, but that's fine. They can just use the other. Nehan has to shake his head-- zealots are really too far gone to save, aren't they?

Not that he would ever attempt to save them.

"At least this one is still intact enough to teach you something, even with all the bones showing. How these people manage to look worse than me, I don't know."

Edited (i'm sorry i just keep thinking of Things) 2021-12-04 07:12 (UTC)

He can't help but wince at the sight of the zealot's body once Nehan has cut away the rest of the clothing. Dead bodies and the like were no problem for him, but this is more Dottore's speed- not his. Either way, he stomachs the sight of it, taking note of where he can see veins already running through the upper leg. It seems that the same issue arises further down the leg as it was with the zealot's arms, veins shriveled not allowing proper blood flow to the feet. It's a nasty sight, but Childe can't say he isn't glad that this body seemed good enough to learn some basics.

Though he wouldn't compare Nehan to one of these things, as the Erune just did, looking over to him amusingly.

"Hahaha, what are you saying, that you also have modifications done to yourself? Even if so, I don't think that level self-degradation was warranted. Though I was wondering about all those scars and that limp of yours. There's always a story attached to things of that nature."

Nehan looks up to eye Childe at his last comment. He'd simply been working while the man spoke, but the comment about his scars and limp? He doubts Childe will let that go so easily, especially when they're in the open now. Relatively speaking.

"I've had my life threatened more than a few times," is what he settles on now, as he sets the shears aside and peers at the prosthetic. But he decides not to fiddle with that-- he knows nothing about prosthetics, and if he were to remove this one, it may be too much blood for him to control.

"But as you can see, I'm still here."

That was the kind of response that makes Childe let it go for the time being. If Nehan didn't wish to share, then he'd respect that. It already tells him that the man has seen combat and lived- and well, that's already good enough of a sign. He wonders what kind of fighter he is...

"That is what matters, isn't it? There isn't a chance for improvement if you didn't survive the experience."

Childe still doesn't touch the body, now giving the prosthetic a once over. It wouldn't surprise him if the zealot themselves sacrificed their own leg to whatever it was they worshipped.

"Though this zealot won't be as fortunate once we're done with it. Show me now, what I need to know about the circulatory system to be the most effective."

Good that Childe let it go, but now it gives Nehan something else to mull over-- what sort of a man is Childe? Cheery about the grisly things in life, but also about living...

Something to think about, but not now. Perhaps later. Childe has things to learn.

"Mm-hm." Nehan takes up one of the markers and tests the tip against his skin-- a soft purple dot appears where he dabbed it, and he nods, pleased. The ink is working well. So he gets himself to work, drawing thin but sweeping lines across the zealot's body starting from the hands. Wrists, fingertips, up the arms, to the chest and all the way to the other arm, the Erune having to walk around the table.

He's busy, really, mapping out an intricate set of lines on the body, and when he's done, he does it all over again, this time with dotted lines, more precise work, and these dotted lines meet the unbroken ones in certain places, especially the extremities.

"The solid lines are arteries, which send blood to the body from the heart. The dots represent veins, which send blood back to the heart. There's more to them than that, but that's mostly for medical purposes, like cures." Or poisons, as he is an expert in. Then he caps it off with an accurate outline of the heart right in the chest.

"This map is what I envision when I work with blood magic."

Childe watches intently as Nehan draws the network of veins and arteries that make up a human system, recognizing areas where he's noticed those very veins on his own arms and legs. Of course, everyone knows about the one in the neck, and he himself is familiar with the fact that you can hit an major artery even in the arms and legs. But the map is so much more complicated than he originally imagined, the intricacies of the entire system impress him.

Life is really strange and beautiful, even down to the very details, isn't it?

"What a wonderfully complicated system," he says, as he traces his fingers next to the ink to keep from smudging it. "I can see how essential this knowledge is going to be...hm."

His hands hover over the zealot's arm again. Yeah. He can see it now, with the visual aid. Childe focuses a little harder, on how the blood is delivered to the body tissue too, though he doesn't understand exactly what he's sensing.

"I want to see exactly what limits this power has. Do you have any paper, so I can record this? I'll want to study this on my own time, as well. In the meantime, I need to know the most dangerous sections of this system. As in, if I happen to make a mistake, will ensure the certain death of the subject."

And possibly add to the blood pollution. When he's practicing, that's the last thing he wants to do.

Nehan simply nods. "There's some upstairs. Zuo will lead you. I'll stay down here, to make sure our captive doesn't escape."

At the sound of its name, the wolf stops lounging and gives its owner a dubious look with a tilt of its head, asking if the Erune really wants to let a human who is still essentially a stranger have run of the house. At a second nod from Nehan, it stands and leads the way up the stairs, all the way to a bench near the front door containing bags of supplies, left there when the Erune went on a shopping spree and hasn't had time to put them all away.

The wolf tugs on one particular bag and lets it fall to the floor, full of notebooks, notepads, and writing implements.

Meanwhile, Nehan is busy moving the zealot's limbs, checking its wounds, articulation, everything, while taking care not to smudge his work. The zealot is awake enough to catch Nehan's attention, a change in its breathing alerting him to the fact, but he wont acknowledge that out loud, or even speak. Not until Childe is back.

Nodding, he turns and follows Zuo up the stairs. He's not sure if he should chance giving the wolf a scratch between the ears- best not to be on the safe side. He spots the bench before they get there, and thankfully Zuo does the hard part for him and finds exactly what he needs. Picking up a pencil and a notebook, he thanks the wolf for the assistance, turning and immediately heading back downstairs.

He comes back down the stairs quietly, not on purpose but merely by habit of keeping his steps light, lifting the newly acquired notebook.

"Thanks, Zuo made sure I found what I needed. Now, let me copy this down."

The atmosphere in the room has changed, however. He shoots Nehan a questioning look, before he looks at the zealot.

"It's awake," is Nehan's response, not to Childe's comment about finding paper to write on, but the unspoken question he knows the human is asking. He puts his hand on his hip, at the pair of holsters where he carries his knife.

At Nehan's pronouncement, the wolf Omen's hackles rise, and it stalks towards the table, circling around it. Ready to attack if the zealot makes a move.

"I've made sure the bindings are secure, but now we have an audience to our work. Or should I put it back to sleep?"

It's a good question. Childe himself wasn't sure how long the zealot would stay out for, and he hadn't really thought that far ahead nor cared enough to really to think about when it woke up. He'd already bound it to the table, that was as far as he'd thought ahead for that matter. He taps his chin, debating on the benefits of keeping it awake.

"If we keep it awake, it'll surely scream and struggle despite being gagged and bound. But, if revenge is more important to you, then these things aren't certainly unwelcome. Hearing your opponent beg for his life is all part of the fun."

There was the question of safety too, but if they didn't use scalpels it should be fine, right?

"This places has an echo, and even if we're underground, roaming beasts may hear." Or worse, damned nosy neighbors.

Revenge is certainly important to him, but he can knock it out easily. But... would he really be satisfied with just harming one out of many? No, of course not. Not when he hurt many in order to torture one singular person.

So, Nehan shrugs. "Then it can stay awake. If it gets too rowdy, I'll deal with it."

But, perhaps, that was a mistake, when the zealot bares bloodied teeth at him and he's not looking at it. He may have one ear turned to monitor its movements, but silent movements still evade him, especially when he has his head turned to face Childe. Then it spits at him, landing a glob of red on his uncovered cheek that starts to freeze. Nehan reels back, eye wide, and begins to scrub at his cheek with his sleeve, growling softly.

The sneak attack catches Childe off-guard too, unable to stop the zealot from spitting its bloody mucus onto Nehan. Coldblood wasn't something to mess with outside of the body, and there's no doubt that Nehan would suffer some kind of injury as the blood freezes to his skin. The Harbinger moves quickly, to ensure the zealot couldn't pull that stunt again.

His fist comes up under the zealot's jaw, putting enough power behind it to fracture the bone, causing it to cry out in pain. Irritated, he turns to Nehan to attempt to help, but is left helpless here. Past blood manipulation, he hasn't had to deal with the removal of already frozen coldblood.

"We need to get you upstairs," he says, looking for Zuo. The wolf would be a big help right now. He offers himself as support so Nehan could move faster with that limp. "We can melt this off with hot water, let's go."

"I was--" It hurts to speak, especially when he hasn't managed to brush off all of the blood before it's started to crystallize into ice. A layer of frost clings to his skin, and it hurts, but he can ignore that. What he cant ignore is the difficulty he has with moving his jaw because of the ice.
"I was boiling ginseng earlier, the tea is less likely to scald me now if you throw it onto me."

He'll stink, but he'll live. And even if it hurts his pride to do so, he leans heavily on Childe to head faster towards the moment where he's definitely going to smell like wet earth for the day. Though he leads up the stairs, with Childe doesn't know where to go.

The wolf, on the other hand, takes a flying leap off of the stairs onto the table, growling at the zealot in its face.

As his ears flick, Nehan echoes the growl behind them, softer but deeper. He's going to make that zealot pay.

"Alright."

He wastes no time, letting Nehan lead him up the stairs to where he'd been boiling his tea. Zuo did exactly what Childe was hoping he'd do, keeping that zealot reminded of what would happen to him if he messed with them anymore. Once upstairs, he takes Nehan over to the kitchen sink and sets him there, slamming the hot water on anyway in case they needed more. It would take a minute to warm up, so he immediately goes for the ginseng. He can see the tea pot that had been boiling on the stove, grabbing it and bringing it over.

"Tilt your head, this is going to burn a bit..."

The contents are poured directly onto the ice, a steady enough stream that instantly begins to melt it away. He's trying to be careful not to pour tea anywhere but on the ice itself, watching with some satisfaction as it grows smaller.

"Do what you have to," is Nehan's only response as he closes his eye, tilting his head and brushing his hair away from his cheek. The first few seconds of hot ginseng tea hurts, but Nehan controls his reactions until he manages to ignore the pain until it's nothing more than heat against the growth on his face, and eventually directly against his frostbitten skin.

At that point, he raises his hand and places it on Childe's chest as if to push him away. He doesn't but he hopes the gesture and implication that he may have to push the man is enough.

"Enough, I'll take care of the rest."

He shakes his head like a wet dog, to remove excess tea.

Understanding, he steps away from Nehan, placing the pot back on the stove. Good thing too, because all of a sudden there's tea flying everywhere and he feels a few droplets of it hit him in the face. Childe feels that he should of seen that coming. The man has animal ears on his head after all.

"You know, a towel would have done just as well."

He wipes the tea from his face, not that there was a lot of it, but still. Not really sure how to feel about that one.

Nehan resists saying that a towel would have irritated his frostbitten skin, but instead he purses his lips at the human.

"You'll be fine-- ginseng is good for your energy levels." Even if it has to be ingested first. He's just trying to verbally bully Childe. Mildly, but still.

Then he takes a deep breath, ignoring the twinge in his cheek, before he settles against the counter to start healing it, magically stitch the skin together. It will take a while and a lot of his own energy, sunshine yellow creeping into his skin, but he doesn't want another scar.

"That's...not quite what I meant."

Not on his face, but he sees what Nehan is doing. Instead, he opts to watch Nehan work, interested how he is healing his own skin. He is patient, and he doesn't mind waiting. Since the injury is on the jaw, he doesn't ask any questions while the doctor works, allowing him to finish uninterrupted.

When he finally is done however, Childe moves to get a closer look at the skin.

"Quite the nasty injury it gave you. Even I wasn't expecting it to use its own blood against you like that."

Nehan is winded after all of that work, and he breathes heavily once to steady himself, hands on his hips and shaking his head.

"We should have expected it." Meaning, Nehan should have expected it. "No matter, as long as it didn't get you." That's important. People can do anything to Nehan, as long as they keep their eyes off of his students or patients.

He touches his cheek, tender, but smooth. No scars.

November Catch-All (Mostly Closed)

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LOL that's ok!

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cw: now comes the violence against a doctor, and the doctor getting violent

cw: graphic injury/blood

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