Thatcher’s lips pursed into a light frown. He would have never thought of his name as pretty.. He did notice that it was a compliment, partly by the color in Ember’s cheeks. “M’hm, thank you,” he said. Ember was.. attractive, and something along the line of his type. But why would he think that now about the one who has enslaved him?
"Ah, it's n-nothing." Ember mumbled. Was he seriously crushing on this guy? What a pathetic little shit I am, Ember thought. Never even been in a relationship before. Not that I'd be able to bring it up. So why am I suddenly turning into a lovestruck adolescent now when I could have at like, thirteen? he asked himself. Bloody, bloody damn.
Thatcher shifted his weight on his heels. He looked down at his wrist and moved it away from his black button up. It had left a nice white stain that had a metalic look in the light of the bedroom. “Do you have anything that I could wrap this in?” He asked. He looked down to where it had begun to drip on the floor. Then again, not many people minded the mess when the realized it was liquid white gold.
"Ah, sorry!" Ember whipped out his wand, giving it a small flick. The wound was cleaned, all traces of blood disappeared from skin and clothing alike, and bandages wrapped nearly around the Reaper's arm. "I didn't think…. should have noticed…. sorry." Ember stuttered.
Thacther’s brows raised from the suddeness of the healing. That was faster than what his own body could manage. He frowned at the bandages and felt at his wrist. “I’m surpised you didn’t want to kee any traces of it,” he said slowly. He rememebred being attacked by a group of men one time who had planned to bleed him dry for the white gold in his veins. Thankfully, Nike had been there to rip them limb from limb.
"Well, I didn't. I find blood a little…. discomforting." he muttered. Torso ripped apart by his own spell, face barely recognizable. "Besides, even if it is valuble, I wouldn't want to, er, exploit you."
That was a new response that Thatcher got. He frownde a bit, like this was some sort of trick. “Are you sure? A Reapers blood is white gold, a very expensive metal. My kind is endangered because we were hunted down for that,” he said.
"Well, I don't really need it for anything, and I don't want to do anything to harm you since the whole, ah, accidental servitude, which I won't try to take advantage of, don't worry, so I'm pretty sure I'm sure." Ember spat out, not using the concept of coherent sentences to his advantage.
Thatcher had frowned a bit more heavily as Ember spoke. He nodded his head slowly as he listened, still not completely comprehending the statements. He had opened his mouth to speak when there was a loud howl that seemed to come from right outside. He quickly stepped over to a window, and looked down to see his massive hound, her three heads looking right up at him.
"Oh my goddess, what the three branches of hell is that!" Ember squeaked, backing up to the wall.
Thatcher resisted the urge to grin, and instead kept it inside. “Nike, my hound,” he said before stepping away from the window. He walked towards the bedroom door and stepped out, wanting to go get her.
"Oh. Right. Demon puppy. Got it." Ember said shakily.
Thatcher ended up leaving the house and walking out to where Nike was. She bounded over, sniffing and nudging at him with her three large heads. She had seemed not too big from just looking at her, but now compared to him, she was up to his shoulders. He pressed his head against one of hers breifly, seeming to talk to her before tilting his head away.
"Hey, come back up here!" Ember said, shouting out his window. He didn't like the look of that dog.
Thatcher looked up at where Ember was yelling from. He shot the other an icy glare before looking back at Nike. “You finished him, didn’t you?” He mumbled, but by the way her fur and jaws were coated with blood, it was an obvious answer. “Good girl,” he mumbled, giving her a pet.
"Seriously, come back up now!" he said, waving for Thatcher to come inside.
Thatcher ignored Ember this time. Nike looked up at Ember, though, and gave a loud snarl in response to the other’s words. He wouldn’t go anywhere without Nike.
"No, seriously, it's not safe out in the dark. Either way, we still need to have a talk about the…. situation." Ember said. He didn't really want the Reaper to potentially get ripped apart by the occasional demon that prowled the streets at night every so often. He'd already had to deal with nine this month alone. He wasn't strong enough to keep them out, he really did have to work on barriers and other spells along those lines. Note to self, study more.
Thatcher scoffed to himself. Not safe. He could handle his own just fine. He turned his head to look over at Ember, now. “Only if I can bring my hound inside,” he stated. He refused to leave her outside and alone.
"Well, it won't fit, but there's some space in the shed!" Ember answered, hoping this would suffice.
“I won’t leave her alone,” Thatcher snapped back in response. She gave a low growl, and he rested a hand on her middle head, hoping she would calm. He had an idea and glanced over at her. “You should shift..” he mumbled quietly to the hound, and she gave an indignant sounding noise.
"Seriously? Your hound is flipping enormous, it can't come inside the house, are you really going to have that be the hill you die upon?" Ember asked, exasperated.
“Yes,” Thatcher snapped. “You are ignorant, I won’t die here from some little creature.” Nike was his closest and most wonderful companion. He was not leaving her anywhere alone. She had terrible attachment issues, and he needed her now more than ever.
"Well, can it, like, change sizes? I dunno, maybe go to the height of a normal dog?" Ember asked.
“No, she can’t,” Thatcher stated. He gave Nike an expectant look and she huffed noticably. After a moment, she had suddenly shifted into what appeared to be a girl around 13 years old. Her features were soft, she had big brown eyes, and long, wavy auburn hair. What was more difficult to understand was her personality disorder. She had multiple personalities, one for each of the the heads.