Remi
Welcome to the wild, no heroes and villains
Welcome to the war, we've only begun
Welcome to the war, we've only begun
"No, what we should do is quite literally never speak of this again." Remi counters with a smile, knowing full well this joke was now part of the conversational canon forever and ever, amen. Also, what kind of prostitute says there's been too much dick talk? Honestly Ronin, pick a lane.
"And the coat too." Remi agrees reluctantly. Ronin isn't wrong, but god if there isn't something so thoroughly depressing about being given a present and then having it immediately taken away. "First though-" Reaching into the box, Remi snags something palm-sized before placing the top back on. "One, just in case." Just in case Susan won and Remi never saw Ronin or anyone else ever again.
So, as awkwardly as it had started, so it would end. Both clearing their throats and glancing around, they started the ritual of wells, and lengthy exhales to signal that Ronin should probably go. Neither hugging nor shaking hands, both men awkwardly ghosted toward the door, stared at one another, and mumbled a goodbye. There was no see you later, because...well, there might not be.
It was hard to gauge the passage of time when your meals were fed to you intravenously and there was no window in yourcell room. There had been two periods of whale noises since Ronin had left, but honestly, Remi thought it more likely that the machine was broken than that it had actually been two days. Were he not worried about losing the privileges that this room afforded him, he might have poked his head into the hall to see what the fuck was going on.
Instead, the wendigo paced, and paced, and paced. When his imagination got too loud, imagining scenarios with Ronin and Isla, of freedom and forever captivity, he'd do situps until he felt sick, or spin in a circle to achieve the same thing. Neither of these things helped, but it was something.
"And the coat too." Remi agrees reluctantly. Ronin isn't wrong, but god if there isn't something so thoroughly depressing about being given a present and then having it immediately taken away. "First though-" Reaching into the box, Remi snags something palm-sized before placing the top back on. "One, just in case." Just in case Susan won and Remi never saw Ronin or anyone else ever again.
So, as awkwardly as it had started, so it would end. Both clearing their throats and glancing around, they started the ritual of wells, and lengthy exhales to signal that Ronin should probably go. Neither hugging nor shaking hands, both men awkwardly ghosted toward the door, stared at one another, and mumbled a goodbye. There was no see you later, because...well, there might not be.
It was hard to gauge the passage of time when your meals were fed to you intravenously and there was no window in your
Instead, the wendigo paced, and paced, and paced. When his imagination got too loud, imagining scenarios with Ronin and Isla, of freedom and forever captivity, he'd do situps until he felt sick, or spin in a circle to achieve the same thing. Neither of these things helped, but it was something.
Higher and higher you chase it
It's deep in your blood, go and take it
It's deep in your blood, go and take it
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
