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
Not only does the wendigo smile in Susan's direction, but he offers her a jaunty wave that would have looked much more charming had Ronin done it. Instead, it just looked a bit clumsy and sarcastic, which was actually much more representative of Remi anyhow.
'Not for me?' Remi repeats in a low voice, suddenly wondering whether or not the way he walked or moved in general would give him away to those who didn't already know who he was by appearance alone. Pulling up the collar of his sweater and pushing his hands deep into his pockets, the wendigo kept his head low and unconsciously tried to simply fuse himself into Ronin's shoulder as they walked. "Mmmmhm." Remi agrees, of letting his partner know, though he could never have anticipated what it would be like to be among so many other people.
The first thing he noticed was the noise. The sounds of breathing, of braying laughter, of dirty fingers on stubbly cheeks. Of the swish of the hunter's characteristic khaki pants as they walked by, of knuckles cracking and gum chewing. Then god, there was the smell. Cheap aftershave and even cheaper perfume clung to days-old clothing. B.O and the smell of dirt on boots. Old ketchup and the grume beneath fingernails.
Remi, who was used to the sterile environment of the hospital wing only ever had to encounter the general sounds and smells of the undertown population when he and Ronin were working their way to the surface. Up above there was enough space and distractions to mute the overwhelming serve from his senses, but down here, where everything was allowed to fester and hang like a fog?
"...can we go?" Whispered, Remi rubs a hand over his ear as if that might help (it doesn't), before offering his partner a wide-eyed panicky gaze that he likely can't see given the wendigo's sunglasses.
'Not for me?' Remi repeats in a low voice, suddenly wondering whether or not the way he walked or moved in general would give him away to those who didn't already know who he was by appearance alone. Pulling up the collar of his sweater and pushing his hands deep into his pockets, the wendigo kept his head low and unconsciously tried to simply fuse himself into Ronin's shoulder as they walked. "Mmmmhm." Remi agrees, of letting his partner know, though he could never have anticipated what it would be like to be among so many other people.
The first thing he noticed was the noise. The sounds of breathing, of braying laughter, of dirty fingers on stubbly cheeks. Of the swish of the hunter's characteristic khaki pants as they walked by, of knuckles cracking and gum chewing. Then god, there was the smell. Cheap aftershave and even cheaper perfume clung to days-old clothing. B.O and the smell of dirt on boots. Old ketchup and the grume beneath fingernails.
Remi, who was used to the sterile environment of the hospital wing only ever had to encounter the general sounds and smells of the undertown population when he and Ronin were working their way to the surface. Up above there was enough space and distractions to mute the overwhelming serve from his senses, but down here, where everything was allowed to fester and hang like a fog?
"...can we go?" Whispered, Remi rubs a hand over his ear as if that might help (it doesn't), before offering his partner a wide-eyed panicky gaze that he likely can't see given the wendigo's sunglasses.
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.
