#morteconductor

@withpcnache asked: 'I'm fine. It was barely a scratch….you worry too much. It's adorable though.' - Ellarin to Emmrich

'But the fact remains that you were injured.'

The severity of said wound was deeply understated, long fingers sorting through medical tools more often used on the dead. Sterilization, turning to pour water into a bowl only to find that Manfred was already doing so. Oh... It was so nice to see him put into practice the skills that Emmerich had taken time to painstakingly teach. He hadn't even had to ask!

'And instead of having young Ms. Harding apply her healing touch you decided to wander about with an oozing wound that could have attracted all sorts of nasty creatures that would delight in nothing more tha-'

Lips pressed together, nostrils flaring briefly as he forced himself to stifle the tirade. Ellarin was a grown elf, he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself without Emmerich's nattering. And if his look took time to warm it was because concern choked him, stress strangled him. The idea of losing the charming fool was too much to bear.

'Please don't wait until you've returned to have your wounds looked after. For me, darling.'

being a butcher's son gave emmrich an edge in his skill of preparing corpses for their burial no matter their religion, as well as dissection in order to study the bodies that were donated to the mourn watch students in order to help them better understand what their necromancy was doing.

it's also where he learned to hum / sing as his parents would do so while working. his father's cleaver the percussion and the bubbling / crackling of his mother's cooking the snare as the two balanced the white noise with their voices. neither was a particularly fantastic singer, but it is something that became a core part of who he is.

he's not entirely sure that his parents would be thrilled with his necromantic pursuits, but they would be thrilled to know that he has such a in depth education that he made a better life for himself.

@withpcnache asked: -Runs a tongue along Emmrich's sternum, pausing to nip at a collarbone - …don't be mad (ellarin)

     It was an answer, even if it wasn’t the correct one, feeling sparks of pleasure trickle through his veins at the brief pain. He was of course still very angry, and Ellarin still thought that sex could take the place of an apology. He did have to admit that he was very thorough in his attempt at apologizing, and it wasn’t as if he wasn’t at least aware that he should. 

‘I’m not mad per se…’

     Not anymore, he’d been concerned at how reckless the young elf had been. The fact that there seemed to have been more blood outside of his body than inside it had made Emmrich’s blood run cold. But he had survived, fingers catching a lock of hair to toy with it as he considered his option. Giving in meant setting a precedent that he could be mollified with sensual attentions when his lover went too far. On the other hand… 

’Please be more careful in the future.’ 

     He’d tried, though even he could hear how weak the words had been, the surrender that had been implied in the paltry rebuke.