[Couronne] A hankering for hands

[Arkash]

"Well... No, not really." He replied on the subject of dissecting a hand. "I usually eat the fingers too fast to really take a peek inside-" he paused suddenly and widened his eyes when he realized what he'd said. "...But uhh, that was more or less my plan, yeah. I was going to take a look at my fingers, but yours might be better considering I need a reference for your fingers..." With a nod, he accepted the offer, then collected the elf's other wrist and set it on the table with a cautionary glance upward.

After the reassurance that necromancy was indeed capable of giving him the fingers he wanted, Arkash brought himself closer to the elf and ran his hand up the length of the man's forearm at pressed his cheek to the elf's bicep in a display of affection. "I'll fix it quickly, just hold on, alright?"

While Degare being ready to subject himself to dissection didn't say much about his desperation on a normal day, the context in their current situation did strain the pull of his lips and the glare of his eyes with some level of worry; he had to get it right, no matter the cost. "Alright..." he said as he lifted his cheek from the taller man's bicep, then retrieved his scalpel. "I'm going to partially deglove you, take a look inside, then close you back up, okay?" He explained as he took control of the man's left hand, and lowered his upper body a little to get a closer look at the anatomy. He folded the scalpel against his hand while he felt along the length of the digit with a pinch of his thumb and index finger, then furrowed his brow.

"The composition is different," Arkash surmised. "Your usual fingers are a lot umm... Squishier, for lack of a better word. I might have just used too much muscle?" he thought for a moment, then furrowed his brow before he shook his head. "I don't know. I'll need to see to be sure... So, hold still," he warned with a glance upward, then pinched the middle finger carefully. He assumed full control of the hand as he turned it over, then pressed the back to the table to keep it in place. A firm grasp on the scalpel saw him steady the blade, then lower it to the fingertip before he pushed it through by a precise few millimeters, barely scraping the bone.

With ease and plentiful discomfort to the subject, Arkash dragged the blade down the length of his digit while he continuously hardened whatever blood seeped through his ruptured blood vessels, and stopped about halfway along the digit. Finally, he set the scalpel down, then looked up at the man before he opened the skin and gently pulled it back to unveil the distal phalange and the condyloid joint that attached it to the middle phalange. There, he tilted his head and furrowed his brow. "...Well that's weird, I need to open it up a bit further, okay? I'm almost done," he assured as he recollected the scalpel, and extended his incision, all the way to the start of the metacarpals, where he further degloved the middle finger with a gentle pull of his skin. Degare would, no doubt, be in a lot of pain.

"...There's no muscle here," Arkash discovered. "It's just... It's all tendons and fat, there's no muscle in your fingers, it's-"

Arkash's eyes widened as realization struck him. There was a time, recently, where Arkash had come to realize that the strength of his grip rested in his forearms, as any attempt to strain the muscles in his hand saw his forearm ache as a result of his training. The reason, he realized, was because the tendons in the hand extended all the way up into the forearm, where the muscles that cased the radius and ulna somehow pull on the tendons as an extension of the strength that the forearm muscle provided.

"...It makes sense...!" Arkash continued, eyes wide in his discovery. "I know what the problem is; I know where I went wrong," he began to explain as he re-applied the Veir's skin. "I put muscle in your fingers instead of making a sheath with the tendons, but that just gets too tight when they tense; which is why you can't move them properly," he explained with a turn of his hand as he collected the Grafting Neeedle, and sewed up the skin to seamlessly shut it.

Once he set the needle down, Arkash clasped his hands together and looked up at the elf. "I can either make some new fingers from scratch or flay the ones you have on right now; it's about the same amount of work either way." Arkash assured with a nod of his head. "Which would you prefer? Fresh fingers or flayed fingers?"

Image source.

[Degare]

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When the comment about eating fingers reached the elven man’s pointed ears, he side eyed the Rathor, red-amber eyes narrowing a bit and lips flattening alongside an amused exhale through his nose-- the look was more playful than agitated or annoyed. “Really? I would’ve never guessed,” the words were drenched in sarcasm. As Arkash then continued on, he nodded to Degare’s suggestion of using the elf’s hands as reference.

The Ferrier closed his eyes with a soft sigh as his lover’s hands traced up his arm and the smaller man leaned his face into his bicep. Much as he was displeased at the moment, the gesture did calm him. “I…appreciate how much you’re trying…really,” his voice is softer with a bit more warmth in it, though it is still quite sad, almost tired.

Red-amber irises drift closed with a deep exhale as he flushes his mural with ether again. Despite the fact that the actual stimulation provided by being cut up was pleasurable, there was a certain amount of physical exhaustion one obtained both from the use of his ether and the continuous injuries he was receiving. “I’m ready whenever you are.” His voice is low, quiet. “Do whatever you think is necessary, Arkash.” As the words left his lips his gaze settled on the fingers of his left hand, hoping that they wouldn’t be damaged in this process.

When the younger man’s fingers traced over his own in exploration, Degare watched on with an interested cant to his head at the other’s observations. “Maybe…I’d always intended to study anatomy at some point but I haven’t…gotten around to it,” he almost sounds embarrassed at this admission.

The familiar sting of the first cut didn’t actually elicit a reaction out of the Veir this time, though internally, he did perceive it as pleasant. The softest of sighs is exhaled as the blade drags downwards and his blood is hardened. One thing of note is that since he’d become a Corvo, his sensory perception was heightened all around. Everything was more sensitive…input being multiplied by a fairly exceptional amount. He was usually pretty expressive, but not to the degree that he’d been displaying to Arkash. It took him a bit more self control that he was used to to stifle himself from making noise. While on a regular basis he was a pretty shameless person, there was some new degree of embarrassment at just how easy it was to draw a reaction out of him now.

When his skin was pulled apart to reveal the internal structure of his finger, he bit his lip hard to keep himself quiet, brows knit together from the strain of doing so. Arkash spoke, seeming to indicate he’d found at least something that was different from the reconstructed digits he’d made. The heat of the pain increased sharply as the incision was extended and more of his skin was pulled back. It bloomed into a radiant burning sensation– something akin to a hiss escaped his lips as it began to more intensely radiate through him. His breathing was deep and heavy as he tried to remain calm– even with the mutation warping his perception, he really wanted his hand to work before they’d fall into each other’s arms again. Knowing the smaller man’s inherent lack of self control, he wanted Arkash to finish his work before he displayed much indication that he was at all turned on…but this was…difficult.

Amber irises shift their gaze from the mess of his hand to Arkash’s face as he speaks his realization. Upon thinking about it, what he said made sense in his head. Before the elf can respond, more words flow forth from the young Rath. A shiver of pleasure runs through Degare as the skin is rather hastily repaired, biting his tongue as he tries to stifle what would have been a low moan. Wincing a bit at the punctures of the needles, such a thing was a rather pointed sensation regardless of how it was perceived. Once the skin was repaired, he gave his companion a soft smile. “It…fills me with great relief that we’ve figured out the mistake now.”

When he is asked which method he prefers, his brows furrowed a bit as crimson irises shift around the room in thought. Truth be told, the numbness and overall cringe inducing sensation from resocketing his joints alongside the cutting and sewing of nerves made this choice fairly easy for him. “Flay them…The direct stimulation to my nerves is…a lot, and ah...significantly less pleasant,” he speaks with a soft laugh and a bit of a grimace; the expression is something of a mix of discomfort and embarrassment.

____

'Thoughts'
"Common Tongue/Speech"
"Raillen Tongue/Speech"

[Arkash]

Given that Arkash’s attempts to repair the damage he’d done to the elf were all unsuccessful thus far, the amount of trust Degare had to have imparted to him to allow him to open his skin must have been tremendous. Arkash seemed to recognize that while he looked up at the older man, and nodded with some careful understanding. There was a sort of determined adversity to his gaze, the intent with which he wielded the scalpel was almost tangible. He had to get it right, there was no room for error.

Even if Degare’s reactions to the agony he brought made his heart flutter, he couldn’t afford to become distracted. With so much in the balance, Akash was able to breathe solely through his mouth while he opened up the elf’s digit to inspect the inner workings of the finger.

What he found was surprising, but made perfect sense with the rest of his findings; he had a plan of attack, and such seemed to soothe Degare to some degree. The first step to fixing him had been taken, and that was knowing what the issue was.

So, he offered the elf the procedure of either getting some fresh fingers made or simply having his current fingers taken apart and rebuilt with the proper composition and tendon structure. Degare was apparently no fan of the lightning-burst pain that came with working on his nerves and opted to simply have his fingers rebuilt while they were attached. Arkash rose his brows with an almost knowing grin to the answer but nodded all the same. Who was he to argue about what his patient needed?

Gentle fingers carefully collected Degare’s right hand, then laid it flat with his palm to the surface. Once he recollected his scalpel, he gently lowered it to the knuckle, then looked up at the older man with a look of curiosity. “I have a feeling that you’ll get all the anatomy studying time you need if we keep this up,” Arkash added in response to his prior comment as he began to glide the sharpened edge around each knuckle with surgical precision. The blood, as it formed, was hardened in the usual fashion with very little waste. He continued across all three knuckles before he lifted the blade and took a brief glance at the Sil’Norai.

His hold adjusted as he positioned the blade right below the nail on his pointer finger, pressed it, then dragged it toward his knuckle. The result was a set of incisions on the skin that allowed it to be peeled away with remarkable ease, exposing the muscles Arkash had woven around the phalanges. For every incision he made, he gently pulled the skin away and set it to one side, leaving Degare’s digits utterly flayed of their casing.

Arkash was careful as he seized the twitching distal bone of his index finger, then carefully began to flay the misplaced muscle with no shortage of anguish to the elf. The sensation was a pain unlike any other, and would surely require several tethers to fully mute. He used the weight of his scalpel hand to hold Degare’s extremity in place while he carved through the muscle, and stripped it clean from the bone. The process seemed to stretch for hours, but each finger took about five minutes to fully rid of the misplaced fibers. Tidy in his organization, he set the shaven muscles to one side, separate from the skin. All that was left was the meager tendons on each of the condyloid joints he’d created.

Another glance up at the elf saw Arkash grin as he pointed with his scalpel. “See, this is where I went wrong. There’s supposed to be a full tendon covering for the finger, like a sheath. Muscles are just too cumbersome and thick; tendons are a lot more flexible,” he explained with a gentle tap of the flat of his blade. “Fixing you up some fresh ones shouldn’t take long at all, just hang in there,” he said with a hum and collected the Grafting Needle.

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[Degare]

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As soon as Arkash lifted his hand again, the Mentalist flushed his mind with a few tethers worth of his Minstrel and he felt immediately more at ease. Amber eyes drifted to his partner’s features, looking them over with an expression of soft affection for a few moments before his gaze moved down, once again, to their hands when the other lifted the scalpel.

Breath having caught a bit in anticipation of the blade’s first cut, Arkash spoke first– his words resulting in an almost embarrassed laugh. “What, just let you cut me apart for the sake of study? If you’re not opposed to spending the extra time together, I…can’t say I’d mind…” In theory, it sounds completely ridiculous but the Ferrier would be a liar if he pretended he didn’t enjoy it– not to mention seeing a lot of this first hand has been fairly enlightening. However, from his voice, he does sound a bit bashful about the concept of just letting somebody cut him apart and put him back together for fun.

The sharpness of the blade had some unique effects that the Veir was, admittedly, a fan of. While the pain was slightly delayed and almost quicker in its passing than if the instrument were a tad duller, it felt almost cleaner in its stimulation; while that was an overall small degree of difference, the elf nonetheless savored it. Degare’s tongue ran over his bottom lip as his breath rate began to increase alongside a small uptick to the beat of his heart from the initial bloom of adrenaline caused by cuts over all three of the fingers.

When the Rathor actually moves to peel the skin away, a low, breathy moan is pulled from the Ferrier’s chest as a shiver rides through his torso from the burning pain twined pleasure. It would be obvious he loved how that felt. Amber eyes were brighter, wider as his mind pulsed with more energy from the steadily increasing amount of adrenaline flowing through him, building twice more with the flaying of the other two fingers.

While it was somewhat of a struggle to keep his shaking hand still, Degare gripped the edge of the table with his left and leaned forward a bit with a bend to the elbow, already pale knuckles turning near translucent. A thin sheen of sweat would be visible on his skin at this point as his body reacted to the muscle fibers being carved away. The ordeal felt eternal but for the entirety of it the elf appeared to be in a state of effervescent bliss. At this point he did little to hold back the noises he made– being a fair bit louder each time one of the attachment sites of the misplaced muscles was torn. The feeling was akin to radiant flame, burning in an ever growing coalescence of agony and ecstasy. While he did sound reminiscent of being in pain, anyone who overheard would likely assume that he was doing something of an entirely different nature.

By the time Arkash had finished, his heartbeat thrummed in his chest like a hummingbird’s and his breaths were short, exasperated and raspy– his whole body was shaking. “Is…is that so? Fascinating…” speaking is clearly difficult for him at the moment, but his natural curiosity and interest is still present woven through a voice thick with desire. His entire face and neck are flushed with soft pinks and deeper reds, the expression adorning his features being a haze of desire woven over intense fascination at the sight of it all.

____

'Thoughts'
"Common Tongue/Speech"
"Raillen Tongue/Speech"

[Arkash]

Arkash couldn't help but grin at the sentiment, that Degare wouldn't mind being chopped up, opened, and studied in the time they spent together. "I know you wouldn't, my dear. But as much as I'd love to chop up and rebuild every inch of you... Well," He paused, something of a blush creeping across his features while he stared down at those fingers. He didn't finish that thought, and instead began to cut through skin, and processed his cuts to flay the fingers.

Muscle and flesh were stripped from the bone, and all through the application of his blade, Arkash's keen ears listened to the thrumming slam of Degare's heart in his chest. If ever the Ferrier looked to Arkash's features while he worked, he would find the smuggest grin he'd ever seen on the Rath. It was a result of how he made the Veir feel in his administrations, to stir up his heart and loins with a few simple presses of his scalpel. His eyelids seemed to flutter as Degare moaned and cried out in uninhibited pleasure, and the Rath seemed to sigh and hum in tandem toward the end, as though he mirrored Degare's need.

At this point, he was physically unable to move the fingers Arkash was working on. There were no muscles to power the tendons that wrapped his joints; none of it was connected.

Gently, the Rath lifted one of the finger bones with his spare hand at the distal portion, then began to wrap a series of tight-knit Sinew Threads around the digit with great precision and deliberate guidance. Steadily, he formed the shape of the tendon sheath. Though he focused quite well on his work, that wasn't to say he wasn't grinning as Degare shook and trembled in wake of the trauma he'd inflicted.

"The reason I held your heart," Arkash continued aloud while he worked. His smile receded a little while he thought, cold eyes reflecting some depth of consideration. "It felt good," he spoke, almost in confession with his tone. "I... Find I really like to be in control, to take charge and..." He paused again, and continued, thought unfinished. "There's something really exciting about holding your life in my hands; being the arbiter of your fate. Knowing that you need me to survive, that only I can save you, is such a rush..." he continued as he activated the last of the tendon sheaths, and the flexible fibers formed where Arkash had set them.

"...It's difficult to admit that I enjoy that power, that control," he continued as he retrieved his scalpel, and brought it to the back of Degare's hand. Without explaining, he began to open up the back of his hand's skin and cut a T-shaped incision to expose most of the fibers beneath. Gentle fingers peeled him open to expose the muscle, fat, and tendon beneath. Carefully, he collect the back tendon of his finger, and gently pulled on the corresponding tendon as it led to Degare's forearm. He would be able to feel the tug in his arm's muscles. Arkash seemed to experiment with the tendon, testing how far back it would allow Degare to pull his finger before he adjusted at the appropriate distance and joined them both with Sinew Threads. The process was repeated for the Index and Ring finger, too.

When that side was done, he sutured the skin at the back of his hand with Sinew Thread, which activated into more skin, then carefully turned his hand over to expose his palm. "I don't really make any sense, I think," Arkash said in addition, then began to open the palm of his hand in a similar fashion to the back. He exposed the muscles, metacarpals, and tendons beneath the skin, and began to join the tendons as he had in the back. Again, he tested the flexibility of the digits and the extent to which Degare was able to grasp; Degare would feel his fingers moving without any of his guidance, like a puppet on a string. Once he was satisfied, he closed up the skin again with the Grafting Needle.

When the reconstruction of his tendons was complete, Arkash wove some smaller Sinew Cloths, and used them to wrap the digits to form a layer of adipose tissue when they were activated; cushioning and insulation for the phalanges, and finally rejoined the outer-casing of skin that he'd degloved, and joined up the knuckles once more with the Grafting Needle. When he was done, he set the tool down and looked up at Degare. "It should be perfect now; I'm certain."

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[Degare]

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Arkash’s words caught in the Veir’s head, ‘I'd love to chop up and rebuild every inch of you…’ The thought scared him almost as much as it enticed him. Amber eyes catch the blush on his lover’s features, breath catching a bit as the gravity of the Rathor’s desire weighs on him.

For most of the flaying of his skin and muscle, Degare’s vision was blurred in a haze of bright pleasure tinged with pain, spending a lot of it with eyes closed or drifting upwards, around, in random directions. About midway through, his eyes do manage to catch the expression on his lovely necromancer companion’s face. His own features twist into a somewhat embarrassed grimace as he notes the smugness of Arkash’s smile, but he is nonetheless unable to stifle himself or hold anything back at this point. His bashfulness would begin to fade as the other slowly mirrored him, however– finding instead, comfort, in their tandem excitement.

There was a lull in the radiant burn of pain once the muscles were all finally shorn away. Degare’s breathing and heart rate began to try and normalize, steadying slowly while Arkash began to weave Sinew Thread into the required form of the tendon sheath. That isn’t to say the Ferrier wasn’t a mess by this point– being flayed, fully conscious, on any part of your body is an experience that would inevitably take a toll on anyone– especially a noble who’s not quite used to being treated like this.

For his part, the pale elf was more focused on the little Rath’s hands as they worked than anything else. When Arkash speaks, though, his attention is redirected towards the sound of his voice, the words that he speaks. A gentle smile pulls at the Veir’s lips as he sighs when the other finishes his thoughts, but he doesn’t say anything…at least, not yet.

Half-lidded amber irises look on with slight confusion when the necromancer brings his blade to the back of his hand, but at this point there’s no real point in questioning it. Would he even stop if the elf asked? It’s not like he’s in any real position to stop him unless he used a more potent bane…but he had no interest in doing that to Arkash. As a result, the necromancer would find he could do as he pleases. A softer sigh of a moan drags out of him as the skin is peeled back, watching as his hand is further stripped. Being able to see his hand twitch, feeling the muscles move without his own input was an alien sensation that he couldn’t quite decide how it made him feel. Still, he stayed silent and just watched the other man work.

The familiar pinpricks of the needle resulted in closed eyes and a long, deep breath for the pale elf, amber eyes reopening when Arkash speaks again. Degare tilts his head at that, “...Why? My…old lover let me harm him as well…I enjoyed it for similar reasons,” his words are languid in their delivery, deep breaths between some of them. “Being on the other end is…a little novel, but not…the worst thing,” laughing dryly at the sentiment. Watching on with a somewhat dreamy expression as the smaller man cut apart his palm and with similar methodology tested and secured the tendons. It was just as strange on this side as it had been on the other– it elicited an odd mix of emotions in him, contrasting to the person he was so used to being. To the man he usually was. With Arkash, he was the opposite and…he liked it?

These thoughts slowly reeled through his head as the young Rathor repaired his hand, the fingers themselves now apparently being functional. There was a notable amount of hesitance and fear in the shaking mess of the Ferrier when he was told his hands should work now. With a deep breath, he raises it up close to his face, rotates the hand a few times and then attempts to make a fist. This time, it worked. Moving his fingers in wave-like motions and others akin to hitting the ivory keys of a piano, he found that the dexterity he’d come to expect had been fully restored.

His eyes drift closed alongside a deep sigh of utter relief. When they reopen, his gaze finds Arkash and the expression he wears is one of open adoration. In some respects, he almost looks apologetic. “I…I’m sorry I ever doubted you.” Degare’s voice is sincere, though marred with notes of his breathlessness. Kneeling down just far enough to match his lover’s height, he grips both sides of Arkash’s head– around the back of his jaw, near his ears– and pulls him into a kiss, passionate, appreciative and loving.

____

'Thoughts'
"Common Tongue/Speech"
"Raillen Tongue/Speech"

[Arkash]

A soft shrug was offered on the question of why, and Arkash briefly met the elf's eyes while he worked on those back tendons. "It's... A lot to get into," he assured with a gentle smile and focused intently on the joining of the tendons. "Maybe I'm too stubborn, or not flexible enough," he spoke with a sort of passive dismissiveness to his gaze, which rested above an uncertain smile, at least until Degare spoke his next line.

He laughed a lungful and looked up at the elf for just a second before he returned his gaze to the hand. "Not the worst thing, he says," Arkash mocked. "Don't lie to me, Sir Socorro. I know you love it," he spoke with that same smugness to his grin while he continued his work on the fingers, and eventually sealed up the back of the hand.

In time, Arkash finished his work with the right design in mind and even took note to ensure that the tendons would pull and tense the fingers to the correct degree when commanded by the muscles of his forearm. With the correct schematic, Arkash had truly considered everything. Even so, when he set the grafting Needle down and told the Elf that it was done, his features seemed to twist with uncertainty, and to some degree, apprehension. In those moments, everything seemed to hinge on whether or not the fingers worked as expected, and whether or not Degare was satisfied with their functionality.

Wide eyes stared unblinking at the elf as Degare curled a fist. His heart skipped a beat; it worked, but was it satisfactory? The motions that followed seemed to fill his gaze with pride; the fact that he was able to create something with that much functionality was truly fantastic to the Rath. Watching them work was surreal, to see them move independent of his influence, on the body of another shook his world. Arkash swallowed hard, then flicked his eyes to Degare's as he closed them.

The breath to come carried obvious notes of relief, and Arkash's heart began to quicken in his moment of triumph. His eyes welled a little when he met Degare's gaze; whatever he saw there was surely taken to heart, as displayed in the way it moved him. He shook his head quickly as he brought a sleeve to his teary eye and wiped it dry. Both hands lift to wrap the elf's wrists as the larger hands come to hold his head in place. "No, you were right to... I didn't know what I was doing, I was guessing and fucked the whole thing-" was all he managed before Degare's lips were upon his. The last of his sentence was a muffled hum against Degare's mouth, withdrawing to the background of his mind as his eyes shut.

Both his hands wrap the back of Degare's neck in response, clinging to him in the euphoric afterglow of their victory.

Image source.

[Degare]

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‘It's... A lot to get into,’ at this, the Ferrier hums softly in consideration. To what was he referring? Curious as he was, he decided to take note of that and file it away as a question he’d poke the little Rath about later. Now, however…his mind was more focused on whether or not his hand would function again in addition to the bright sparks of stimulation from his open wounds.

An amused but slightly bashful smile pulls at Degare’s lips as the flush on his face deepens and diffuses outwards onto his ears when he hears Arkash’s retort. With a light sigh and a shake to his head, “Yeah…you’re right.” He’s wearing a familiar, shameless grin when he says this– no reason to withhold his praise now. The enjoyment he got out of the time he’s spent with the Dranoch really was undeniable.

When the Ferrier glances over at the Necromancer while he flexes his now fully repaired right hand, his relieved smile only grows as it reaches his eyes, genuinely made happier by how excited his lover appeared to be. The exuberant pride reflected in the Rathor's eyes made him feel a lot more reassured in his choice to have trusted Arkash. Adaptable, stubborn, and perhaps a bit precocious, the younger man had fulfilled his promise.

As Degare knelt to meet his gaze with his lover’s, the younger man’s reaction stirred more long dormant emotions in the older Sil’Norai’s torpid heart. Eyes of amber look back at him with boundless affection reflected within and an apologetic smile tugging at the corners of his lips. As much as he now felt guilty for being as dramatic as he was in his reaction, he really couldn’t help it. The two of them had only just met and he was faced with the prospect of losing use of his dominant hand of all things– even if, ultimately, it was a temporary loss.

Arkash’s hands on his wrists caused his eyes to crease with the deepening of the smile on his face. When his lover tried to justify the Ferrier’s ultimately poor reaction by being self-deprecating, Degare cut him off by closing his eyes and parting his lips to kiss him. The kiss was slow and his touch loving, wanting it to feel as romantic as he could make it.

Everything was fine now– the pale elf wanted nothing more than for the two of them to savor the warm, glowing radiance of the victory as opposed to anything else.

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'Thoughts'
"Common Tongue/Speech"
"Raillen Tongue/Speech"

[Salen]

Arkash

Lores
Necromancy: Sinew Threads: Adipose tissue
Necromancy: Shapers Pen
Necromancy: Shapers Pen: Used to absorb life essence and to revitalize decaying flesh
Necromancy: Shapers Pen: Absorbing life essence
Necromancy: Shapers Pen: Revitalizing decaying Flesh
Necromancy: Sinew Threads: Joining various types of flesh
Necromancy: Sinew Threads: Joining nerves
Biology: Detailed finger anatomy
Biology: Tendons: Sheaths
Biology: Tendons: Flexible and strong
Biology: Forearm muscles control the fingers with extended tendons
Biology: Adipose tissue for padding and protection
Biology: Muscles: Heavy and inflexible
Biology: Muscles: Not ideal for joints

[PC] Degare: Briefly doubted you
[PC] Degare: Bashful
[PC] Degare: Really likes being at the receiving end of your violence
[PC] Degare: Used to be passionately violent toward his lover
[PC] Degare: Apologized for doubting you
[PC] Degare: Recipient of your first from-scratch working anatomy

Loot: N/A
Injuries: N/A

Points: 8

Degare

Lores
Biology: Musculoskeletal - Flexor retinaculum
Biology: Musculoskeletal - Extensor retinaculum
Biology: Musculoskeletal - Extensor digitorum
Biology: Musculoskeletal - Abductor pollicis longus
Biology: Musculoskeletal - Extensor pollicis brevis
Biology: Musculoskeletal - Flexor digitorum profundis
Biology: Musculoskeletal - Collateral Ligament
Biology: Skeletal - Carpals
Biology: Skeletal - Distal Phalanges
Biology: Skeletal - Intermediate Phalanges
Biology: Skeletal - Proximal Phalanges
Biology: Tendons - Sheaths
Biology: Adipose Tissue in Fingers
Psychology: Overreactions
Persuasion: Apologies
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[PC] Arkash: Stubborn and determined
[PC] Arkash: Precocious necromancer
[PC] Arkash: Cares a lot about fixing you when you break
[PC] Arkash: Enjoys hurting you -- because you enjoy it?
[PC] Arkash: Extremely cute when excited

Loot: N/A
Injuries: N/A

Points: 8

Comments: They are so wholesome and cute, I'm sorry to say this. It's wholesome af. Enjoy your rewards!