#fenumin

The assassin stretches in satisfaction, lithe muscles still gleaming with sweat; at his side, Fenumin is already sweeping his long red hair back into its tight knot atop his head, already recovered from their rough play as though it had never happened, only the bruises and bite marks remaining. As always. Mi’Enasalin eyes his lover’s slender back in silent disdain; the day will come when he shatters Fenumin’s icy control, when he leaves him in fragments in truth, when he refuses to restrain himself for Fenumin’s pleasure -“I would very nearly bet you,” the assassin murmurs, lowering his stretched arms to settle his hands - strong enough to snap your neck if I so chose, sweetling - on Fenumin’s narrow shoulders. “-that Dacien would not be half so composed once I finished with him.”It earns him half a glance over one shoulder, before Fenumin shrugs his hands away. “It seems to be of no consequence, agent.”“No?” He grins, leaning back against the pillows, smiling at the canopy overhead. “A man well-versed in receiving pain as pleasure, a plaything of the gods themselves? What I could do with such a creature...” Fenumin does not respond, and Mi’Enasalin frowns. “You might at least be jealous.”“I might,” Fenumin agrees - but his voice, dry and airy, says otherwise. “But jealousy is ill-spent on a toy you cannot play with, no matter how fine his craftsmanship may be.” He rises from the bed, retrieves his robe, and leaves Mi’Enasalin to fume in his wake.

Ill-suited for snowy weather.

I was asked for screencaps of Fenumin in his new getup and ya girl does provide

And also poison.

Fenumin Inahwen dislikes: Pretty much everything at some point Snow

It is hardly rare that Fenumin has an audience while he works; the infrequency with which he is actually present at the enclave makes him a subject of no little intrigue among his fellow poison-crafters. On a typical day, assuming Mi’Enasalin has not staked a monopoly on his time - per usual - he may have two, three, perhaps as many as ten eager young assassins and apprentices hovering around his table. He seldom minds. Eager eyes come attached to eager hands, and the younger generation are all so terribly eager to fetch whatever catalysts or extracts he may require.But then there is Dacien, something of an oddity.Neither a trainee nor an assassin himself, Dacien has hardly any practical cause to be here; true, his missions may on occasion call for poison, but he has no need to know what that poison is, nor how it was crafted. Yet here he is, the curious creature - Dirthamen’s plaything, Mi’Enasalin’s daydream. Perhaps, being a disciple of Dirthamen, seeking knowledge simply runs in his blood. The reason, Fenumin decides, is irrelevant. “I do, agent,” he replies, sparing Dacien a half-attentive glance as he continues adding heat to the distillation assembly arrayed before him. “Felandaris is both deadly and versatile, and is an ingredient in all but the most basic of poisons intended to kill both swiftly and painfully - yet because it is steeped in the power of the Fade, it may also be used in potions intended to strengthen spellcasting.” He gestures, and without moving from his spot, summons a twisting branch of the peculiar plant from a nearby supply cabinet. Allowing the branch to rest suspended in midair between them, Fenumin gestures toward it. “Observe: it appears to move even when harvested and left to dry. This, botanists believe, is the lasting effect of the Fade on the plant; I have often wondered if it means plants dream, if indeed the Fade may have so striking an impact.”The branch remains floating, but Fenumin casts another spell, summoning this time a black vial, gleaming like bottled ink. “This,” he says, almost proudly, “Is my personal favorite Felandaris derivative, a concoction of my own devising. Where most poisons meant for weapon application will corrode the metal if unremoved, or will lose potency rapidly upon being exposed to the elements, this eliminates both problems. I have found it to be very popular among our Keeper’s assassins as a safety measure.” And a favorite of Mi’Enasalin’s, but Dacien hardly needs to know that.“A single coat on a blade or arrowhead will cause severe pain at the site of the injury,” Fenumin continues, removing the stopper of the vial and tipping it to allow Dacien to see how thick the liquid within is. “Two coats will cause paralysis - potentially permanent, depending on the location of the injury, and possibly blindness. Three coats,” he concludes, returning the stopper. “Is death, guaranteed, within moments of the toxin entering the bloodstream.”He returns the vial to the supply cabinet, to be claimed by some assassin or other in the days to come, then returns his attention to Dacien. “I trust this has been enlightening?”