deercountry | November Catch-All (Mostly Closed)

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.

"You really needn't worry about me," he says, understanding what Nehan meant. His own master, long ago, helped keep him safe too. He gets it. It's a teacher student thing. "If I get caught off guard by something like that, it's really my own fault."

Childe is impressed with the work Nehan was able to do to his own face. The man looks tired though, and so the Harbinger gestures back towards the living room.

"Perhaps we should take a break for the time being. I can go downstairs and make sure that zealot doesn't go anywhere. I'm sure Zuo would help me out, too."

Nehan shakes his head as he wrings his hair out of excess liquid.

"It's fine, Childe. We can continue the experiment." Especially since he doesn't want that thing in his basement for longer than necessary, especially alive.

"I just need more energy... Is there still ginseng tea left?"

Oh, tell him there's more. Please.

"Well..."

He turns, and picks the pot up, testing it for weight. He might of heard a little splash in there? He looks to Nehan, handing it over to him. Bad news, everyone.

"I don't know if there's enough left for a cup."

The Erune has to sigh. He's no stranger to being tired while working, and having nothing to help him keep up his energy, but now that he has the freedom to actually do something about it... Something is going to die today, then. By knife, rather gun.

"I'll live," he sighs again. "I'll live with what's left of the tea. But that zealot will not live to tomorrow for this."

He starts to limp towards Childe and the pot without his crutch, making grabby hands for it like he just hasn't casually declared the death of something in his house.

It doesn't seem to bother Childe whatsoever that Nehan has decided that the zealot was going to die. And as far as he's concerned, Nehan can do the deed himself if he wants. Doesn't matter to him at all. Just as long as he gets a little more practice in before he leaves.

The Harbinger happily hands the pot over to Nehan, to let himself pour whatever was left out. He can't help but laugh, the sight itself is humorous coupled with that murderous attitude Nehan seems to have.

"You are one of the stranger doctors I've met, but I can't say that's a bad thing," he states, watching Nehan limp over. "Don't drop it now."

Shooting Childe a look for the comment, with his brow furrowed slightly, he accepts the tea pot and leans against that counter this time around and opens the cupboards with one hand. Nehan manages to procure a small white tea cup from a set and pours his tea into it.

As expected, the tea barely fills the cup, well underneath the expected line of tea people expect when they're given something in a cup this size. But that's fine by Nehan, when this is just pure ginseng.

"I have to ask why you think I'm strange."

"I don't know too many doctors who don't mind experimenting on patients," he says, not in an accusatory manner, but just a objective statement. He's aware of the Hippocratic Oath, at least the version of it that they have in Teyvat. But that's not to say he doesn't know any like that, because of course he does. The Fatui have no shame in their human experimentation.

"And, you're the first doctor I've met with ears. Neither of these things are disqualifying to me, of course, in fact they are anything but. I just find it interesting, is all."

Nehan raises an eyebrow over his cup, but doesn't speak until he finishes what little tea he has. Then he raises his hair over his up over his cheek, revealing his jaw and the spot where an ear would be on humans, completely smooth.

"I'm not human, Childe. Surely you've noticed this by now." Well, obviously, but he was just taking the piss out of Childe to amuse himself for a moment. Then he shrugs. "As for your first point..."

He withdraws his hand and sets his cup down on the counter. "I was taught my trade by my parents, but before they trained me to heal, they first trained me to kill. This is normal for someone like me."

His tone is level as usual, belying no emotion even if he's discussing a subject that would scandalize most people, and drive guilt into someone who feels guilty. But he doesn't feel even that.

It's noted that in Nehan's answer, he doesn't specify in which way he was trained to kill. Of course, there are a number of professions that could fall under, but the most important part is that he's purposely not included it. Childe understands- the Erune doesn't want to share, and he's not curious enough to push for it. It's a good answer. He'll leave it there.

"I suppose both of those go hand in hand after all. Knowledge of one helps the proficiency of another. Interesting how you've ended up on the completely opposite side of the coin."

He shrugs. There's no judgement from him as far as murder is concerned. That would make him a terrible hypocrite.

"If you're feeling better, we can continue. I'd be more than happy to see any more you may have to teach tonight."

"Make no mistake, I'm still a killer, even if I work officially as a doctor." Then he pushes off of the counter, making the trip back to fetch his crutch. As he takes it up again, he looks up, up at Childe, tilting his head and flicking his ears. "I just don't kill my patients or students."

Then he beckons to Childe to come along-- he is definitely going to teach him more.

November Catch-All (Mostly Closed)

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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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