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
It doesn't feel slow to Remi, because every step is an exercise in self-control. His muscles beg to be unshackled that he might indeed seem to appear before the doctor, to mentally stand aside that his bones might shed his useless skin in order to open her up and let her glisten like so many rubies on the floor before devouring her.
Not able to meet her eyes for so very many reasons that perhaps she can ask him about later if she thinks of it, Remi reaches out a hand somewhat stiffly, his fingers encircling Isla's wrist and raising it. The bead of blood has already begun to clot over, though as the wendig's fingers slide up the doctor's skin and apply pressure, the faint maroon seal breaks and the bead becomes a small trickle over her fingertip and down the side of her finger.
Remi's nostrils twitch and though he stops it, the tip of his tongue pokes snakelike against the back of his teeth. He thinks of all the times he'd been smeared with Ronin's blood while they were hunting topside, about the bar fight and the flecks of blood that had made their way onto his tongue. He thinks of how it had taken all the sedative they had to keep him restrained, and had the sound of Isla's pulse not been like the crash of a waterfall, he might have thought further about how absolutely stupid this was.
He didn't, though, couldn't perhaps.
Raising her finger, Remi paints a line across his lower lip, willing his fingers not to flinch and inadvertently snap the doctor's wrist. Do you trust me? he might have asked again if he thought he had control enough; instead, he lifts his golden eyes to Isla's and pushes the tip of her finger over his tongue.
Not able to meet her eyes for so very many reasons that perhaps she can ask him about later if she thinks of it, Remi reaches out a hand somewhat stiffly, his fingers encircling Isla's wrist and raising it. The bead of blood has already begun to clot over, though as the wendig's fingers slide up the doctor's skin and apply pressure, the faint maroon seal breaks and the bead becomes a small trickle over her fingertip and down the side of her finger.
Remi's nostrils twitch and though he stops it, the tip of his tongue pokes snakelike against the back of his teeth. He thinks of all the times he'd been smeared with Ronin's blood while they were hunting topside, about the bar fight and the flecks of blood that had made their way onto his tongue. He thinks of how it had taken all the sedative they had to keep him restrained, and had the sound of Isla's pulse not been like the crash of a waterfall, he might have thought further about how absolutely stupid this was.
He didn't, though, couldn't perhaps.
Raising her finger, Remi paints a line across his lower lip, willing his fingers not to flinch and inadvertently snap the doctor's wrist. Do you trust me? he might have asked again if he thought he had control enough; instead, he lifts his golden eyes to Isla's and pushes the tip of her finger over his tongue.
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.
