Ronin
welcome to the playground, follow me
tell me your nightmares and fantasies
tell me your nightmares and fantasies
It's real fucking cold. That's Ronin's opinion, deep in his lizard brain, and if it didn't hurt so gods damned much, he'd be shivering violently. (Right, right, it's not the hypothermia setting in). Retching and rolling onto his - thankfully not broken - shoulder, he vomits up an alarming amount of the putrid waterfront. Add in the way his blood continues to soak the wood from his left shoulder and wrist and hoo, boy, it's a fun time all around.
Any of his tools and tricks that once lived in his left pocket are similarly lost to the water, given that this part of his coat is completely shredded now, and he'll be upset about it later. For now it's just blood and snow and his heart galloping in his chest. He supposes he's lucky it didn't short out completely from the lightning, only he doesn't feel at all lucky right now, to be frank.
Whatever Remi is doing with the siren is none of his business and beyond his jurisdiction; those two monsters can have it out as far as he's concerned.
Any of his tools and tricks that once lived in his left pocket are similarly lost to the water, given that this part of his coat is completely shredded now, and he'll be upset about it later. For now it's just blood and snow and his heart galloping in his chest. He supposes he's lucky it didn't short out completely from the lightning, only he doesn't feel at all lucky right now, to be frank.
Whatever Remi is doing with the siren is none of his business and beyond his jurisdiction; those two monsters can have it out as far as he's concerned.
sink into the wasteland underneath
stay for the night, I'll sell you a dream
stay for the night, I'll sell you a dream
