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
A surprise for the both of us, the subtitle of Remi's sex-tape.
Nearly the wendigo makes a joke about Isla not being thorough enough, before all the horrifically cheesy medical-porno lines that would spawn scream into his mind and he immediately squeezes his eyes closed. 'Are you going to let me know ahead of time, or...?' Or should he just expect someone to walk into the room with a bloody arm to see if it had any effect at all. 'I should mention that one thing Ronin and I noticed was that his blood doesn't seem to have the same effects on me.' Just in case Isla thought about introducing Ronin as part of the trial.
Sitting up slightly straighter and trying to really concentrate on things, the wendigo tilts his head to the side in an affectation of listening. "I can't hear your pulse." He says, before looking down at one of his hands. "And this all looks nor-" Details snarl into focus, and the world around him which had been pleasantly dulled down suddenly erupts with sensory inputs. Moaning in protest, the wendigo lurches forward as the muscles of his stomach contract and cramp, followed in tandem by those in his arms and legs.
Gasping for breath that suddenly felt unnecessary, Remi reaches forward for the arm of Isla's chair. The wood and plastic splinter between his fingers, throwing him to the ground once more at Isla's feet.
Nearly the wendigo makes a joke about Isla not being thorough enough, before all the horrifically cheesy medical-porno lines that would spawn scream into his mind and he immediately squeezes his eyes closed. 'Are you going to let me know ahead of time, or...?' Or should he just expect someone to walk into the room with a bloody arm to see if it had any effect at all. 'I should mention that one thing Ronin and I noticed was that his blood doesn't seem to have the same effects on me.' Just in case Isla thought about introducing Ronin as part of the trial.
Sitting up slightly straighter and trying to really concentrate on things, the wendigo tilts his head to the side in an affectation of listening. "I can't hear your pulse." He says, before looking down at one of his hands. "And this all looks nor-" Details snarl into focus, and the world around him which had been pleasantly dulled down suddenly erupts with sensory inputs. Moaning in protest, the wendigo lurches forward as the muscles of his stomach contract and cramp, followed in tandem by those in his arms and legs.
Gasping for breath that suddenly felt unnecessary, Remi reaches forward for the arm of Isla's chair. The wood and plastic splinter between his fingers, throwing him to the ground once more at Isla's feet.
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.
