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[SE] a mirror to the moon - Printable Version +- Court of the Fallen (https://cotf-rpg.com) +-- Forum: Out of Character (https://cotf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=26) +--- Forum: Important (https://cotf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=27) +---- Forum: Archives (https://cotf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=38) +---- Thread: [SE] a mirror to the moon (/showthread.php?tid=11905) Pages:
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a mirror to the moon - Ronin - 08-16-2025 Quiet, soft nights like this come once only ever so often, or so Ronin has started to believe. And with the last couple of years choked with conflict, it still feels like they carry that weight, as if their minds and bodies have forgotten to let go even though the danger is gone. All the more reason to make time to sit with it, to let it sink deep into their bones. It's late, but not late enough that the lights of Haulani have flickered low, and the city in the distance glitters like an orange reflection of the blaze of stars in the sky overhead. The territorial itch under Ronin's skin won't tolerate going into town tonight, though, and so he has arranged a candlelit picnic on the deck of the Northaven, and has gathered some materials together as well to create floating lanterns. One might expect him to be making something for Vi, but tonight his lantern is dark and sombre, and he's painting careful and metallic strokes onto it as an ode to the god of death. [say]"It only feels right that I thank Mort,"[/say] he remarks, sitting cross-legged on the blanket as they work. [say]"He did give you the rose for you to cure me, after all."[/say] RE: a mirror to the moon - Remi - 08-16-2025 Candlelight dances in the gentle sway of the sea, and Remi sits folded comfortably beside his husband, one leg bent, the other stretched out with the easy sprawl of someone who knows every board beneath him. His curls catch the flicker of the flame, his cheeks warm with the gold glow. A tentacle—faintly translucent and lazily curved—hovers above, holding his unfinished lantern aloft with a sort of casual reverence. Beneath it, he works with focused precision, painting a delicate golden door at its centre, framed by soft, spreading brushstrokes that suggest an endless forest beyond its frame. The paint shimmers faintly in the low light—quiet and respectful, a tribute more heartfelt than showy. [say]"I mean,"[/say] Remi murmurs, glancing sideways with a mischievous grin, [say]"I did put in a fair amount of legwork to get the rose."[/say] His gaze flickers over Ronin’s somber lantern, his smile softening around the edges. [say]"Not that I’m saying Mort doesn’t deserve the thanks,"[/say] he adds, tilting his head. [say]"But do I get a lantern, too? Or am I just supposed to bask in the afterglow of being very heroic and underappreciated?"[/say] He quirks his lips, the tease gentle but clear, before returning to the lantern in his lap. His brush adds another stroke to the golden door, steady and sure. [say]"Mort letting them all come back for a night, was..."[/say] Shaking his head, Remi softens. [say]"More than I could have ever hoped for."[/say] The tentacle adjusts above him, the lantern turning slowly on its axis, catching both starlight and city-glow from the horizon beyond. [say]"I think he’s more generous than people realise,"[/say] Remi says quietly, more to himself than to Ronin. RE: a mirror to the moon - Ronin - 08-16-2025 [say]"Please don't take this the wrong way,"[/say] Ronin says softly, his tone playful but quietly solemn beneath, [say]"but I hope I never, ever have to make a lantern for you."[/say] Lowering his brush, he raises his eyes towards the other man, struck breathless for a moment to see him outlined in gold, quietly making something out of nothing in the light of a few candles. [say]"Gods, you're beautiful,"[/say] he mutters, almost under his breath as if the words have escaped without his notice. Quietly clearing his throat, Ronin returns to the delicate paintwork bordering his lantern. [say]"You can have my thanks, though. And my appreciation and my heroic worship. Would that suffice?"[/say] He flashes the other man a smile. Working in silence for another few minutes, Ronin sets his creation down to dry before adding further colours, and Remi's voice chimes through the comfortable dark like something sacred. [say]"It's a night I will never forget,"[/say] he tells him softly. [say]"And I'll spend the rest of my life showing you how grateful I am for it."[/say] RE: a mirror to the moon - Remi - 08-16-2025 Remi chuckles, the sound low and warm as it spills into the night air, his brush poised mid-arc across the delicate door he’s been painting. [say]"Mm, fair,"[/say] he concedes lightly, a teasing lilt in his voice as he tilts his head. [say]"I’ll do my best not to give you reason."[/say] A pause, a flick of his brush. [say]"Though, technically, Mort’s not dead either, is he? So really I think you could make me one."[/say] The remark is lighthearted, but it gives way to something gentler as Ronin’s unexpected words reach him. Remi’s hand stills, and he glances up. The candlelight doesn’t quite reach the stars in his eyes, but it catches the rise of a shy smile as dimples press deep into his cheeks. For all the years between them, it still stirs something quiet in him to be seen like that. [say]"Ronin,"[/say] he murmurs, the name carrying a soft warning. [say]"If you keep talking like that, neither of us is going to finish these lanterns."[/say] And the implication is clear, one that makes his lashes lower for a moment as his grin curves wider, more crooked. They’re not so far from the door, or, frankly, from just making do with the blanket beneath them. Rolling his eyes fondly, Remi returns to his painting, nudging Ronin’s leg beneath the lantern with a faint huff. [say]"I suppose your thanks will have to do,"[/say] he mutters, dramatic enough to be playful. [say]"Though for the record, I’d do it all again. A thousand times over if it meant seeing that smile on your face."[/say] RE: a mirror to the moon - Ronin - 08-16-2025 [say]"Mm, I don't feel as though lanterns are as symbolic for the gods as they are for us,"[/say] Ronin points out with a smirk. [say]"I appreciate it, though. And if you really want one, I'll see what I can do. It can stay lit every night except for the Festival of Lights, though."[/say] Call him superstitious but they've both brushed close enough to death enough for a thousand lifetimes without teasing Ludo to its raggedy face. [say]"Oh, we're finishing these lanterns,"[/say] he says with wicked confidence. [say]"And then I'm going to give my thanks to you right here while all the stars watch."[/say] Bouncing his eyebrows as if the suggestion is something scandalous, Ronin blows gently on the paint on his creation, ensuring it's dry enough, before exchanging silver for gold pigment. That same smile Remi mentions is a mere ghost of what it had been the night their friends and family had marched through the doors of Mort's halls to see them, but it's no less sincere as Ronin dips his brush into the paint. [say]"Ten years,"[/say] he murmurs, almost to himself, [say]"and you still make me feel like the man I was when we lived in the guildhall. There's magic in that, I reckon."[/say] RE: a mirror to the moon - Remi - 08-16-2025 Remi grins as if he’s won something, even if the prize is only Ronin’s begrudging compromise. [say]"I’ll take it,"[/say] he hums, amused as ever by his husband’s particular brand of superstition. [say]"Though between the two of us, I do feel a little guilty even bringing lanterns. It feels a bit like cheating."[/say] His brush stills for a moment as he glances up, the candlelight catching in the slope of his smile. [say]"After all we’ve been given and all we can do..."[/say] A shrug. [say]"It feels unfair to tempt fate to give us anything more than we already have."[/say] At Ronin's threat, Remi gasps, the sound sharp and scandalized, one hand flying to his chest with theatrical flair. [say]"You wouldn’t dare,"[/say] he whispers, eyes narrowing a breath later as the Knight begins blowing delicately on his paint like some kind of da Vinci. [say]"If you turn into a perfectionist now, I swear—"[/say] His voice drops to a mutter, a grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. He does not finish the threat, because they both know how it would end: with Ronin covered in paint and Remi pinning him to the deck before Mort ever gets his lantern. The Bastion bites the inside of his cheek to tame the curl of his smile, but it doesn’t quite work. His eyes flick up again at the wistfulness in Ronin’s voice, softening in a way that brushes gently against his ribs. [say]"What sort of man?"[/say] he asks, feigning innocence with an exaggerated lift of his brows. [say]"The kind who could barely best a golem on his own with a penchant for tripping over his own feet?"[/say] His voice is teasing, but there’s a thread of quiet adoration woven through it, because he knows what Ronin means, what he really means, and gods, Remi feels it too. That despite the years and the grief and the battles they’ve weathered, some version of them still lives in those early days. Still chooses one another with a kind of sweetness that the world hasn’t managed to sand down. RE: a mirror to the moon - Ronin - 08-16-2025 Humming thoughtfully at Remi's point, Ronin spends a few moments on the finishing touches to his lantern before sitting back to let it dry. [say]"I know what you mean,"[/say] he says, [say]"but I'd also feel... wrong? If we didn't bring a memento for the people we love who have left us. You know?"[/say] He sighs softly. [say]"That being said, perhaps we opt not to bring anything to the festival this year. Give someone else a chance to feel the way we did."[/say] Shifting to sit closer to his husband, he flashes him a cheeky smile and leans in to steal a quick kiss from his cheek, careful not to interrupt the careful work he's putting into his own lantern. [say]"No perfectionism here,"[/say] he promises. [say]"I know better than to keep a good man waiting."[/say] Letting his hand casually rest atop the Bastion's thigh, Ronin's laughter rings bright and self-deprecating across the deck. [say]"Exactly that sort of man, yes,"[/say] he says, before tilting a grin towards Remi. [say]"And the sort of man who waited up for you at night to make sure you came home okay. The sort you were able to see even when you were blind."[/say] RE: a mirror to the moon - Remi - 08-16-2025 Remi nods slowly, his brush pausing as he considers the weight of that. [say]"Mm. I feel the same,"[/say] he murmurs. [say]"Maybe this year we hang the lanterns ourselves. Or send them out into the waves, let the tide take them somewhere quiet."[/say] He glances toward the horizon, where the stars glitter just beyond the reach of candlelight. [say]"That way, if someone’s watching, they won’t feel like they’ve been overlooked."[/say] Remi's brush starts moving again in gentle arcs, but his lips twitch as Ronin kisses his cheek. That one small gesture is enough to deepen his dimple and flush his cheeks, the affection visibly colouring him from the inside out. [say]"I don't know about good men,"[/say] he teases, voice warm with amusement, [say]"but I definitely don’t like being kept waiting."[/say] A soft nudge follows, not hard enough to interrupt Ronin’s work, but enough to be a menace. But then his husband brings up that long forgotten memory, and Remi’s breath catches for just a second, a little hitched inhale like nostalgia pricking beneath the ribs. His smile twitches crooked at the edges. [say]"The sort of man,"[/say] he continues softly, [say]"who left dead rats outside our door while infected with some magical disease as a show of affection."[/say] There’s a snort that turns into a snicker, his head shaking slowly as he adds, [say]"Gods, the things you screeched at me all hours of the night..."[/say] His grin brightens, wide and unguarded, as golden paint pools across the lantern’s surface like spilled sunlight. [say]"I fell in love with you before I had any idea what loving you would mean,"[/say] he murmurs, a touch quieter now. [say]"But I’d still do it, every time. Dead rats and all."[/say] RE: a mirror to the moon - Ronin - 08-16-2025 [say]"I'd like that,"[/say] Ronin decides, of setting their lanterns adrift so that those to whom they belong might still see them, even if they aren't part of Ludo's official festival. [say]"It's a deal, then,"[/say] he says, only to let out another wicked laugh at Remi's clarification on his levels of patience. [say]"A good man,"[/say] he insists, the words muffled by another kiss he smooches obnoxiously against his cheek. Though he's close to taking the sentiment right back at the Bastion's next few points, Ronin's mouth falling open in mock horror. [say]"You're never going to let that go, are you?"[/say] he quips. [say]"Here I am waxing lyrical, and it's back to dead rats and screeching obscenities. Might I remind you that I'm not the only one who has acted questionably while I was unwell? If I remember, you one tried to kill me for giving you a sip of water."[/say] His expression softens, and he aims for a real kiss to Remi's lips this time, chaste and sweet. [say]"You know, I don't know if that was the compliment you intended for it to be, but I'll take it,"[/say] he says with a crooked smile. RE: a mirror to the moon - Remi - 08-16-2025 Remi snorts into the kiss, grinning even as he affectionately rolls his eyes. [say]"What can I say? I'm a commoner at heart,"[/say] he teases, voice warm and unhurried. [say]"Dead rats will always speak to me louder than poetry."[/say] His brows lift, feigning offence as he adds, [say]"And was it water?"[/say] Even as the paintbrush clatters gently onto the blanket, Remi is already reaching for the Knight. Their timing, as ever, is uncannily in sync; hands meeting halfway as the Bastion’s palm slides along Ronin’s jaw, gold-smudged fingers curling tenderly against skin. The kiss that follows might be brief, might be sweet, but it thrums through the ring on Ronin’s finger, the pulse of Remi’s heartbeat ricocheting against it like a spark in a dry forest. He draws back just far enough to look at him, lips flushed and parted with the start of another smile that never really left. [say]"Of course it was a compliment,"[/say] he says softly, thumb brushing along the edge of Ronin’s cheekbone, smearing gold in his wake. [say]"Even if our whole life were just rats on the doorstep and curses in the wind, I’d still choose you, every time."[/say] RE: a mirror to the moon - Ronin - 08-16-2025 [say]"Maybe,"[/say] Ronin trills when it comes to the was it/wasn't it water debate, though (perhaps for the best) he's silenced by the way Remi turns into him, their lips meeting as effortlessly as two dancers moving to a song they've practiced hundreds of times. Smiling as he feels the other man's pulse bump along his finger, his nose brushes against Remi's when they part, and he leans instinctively into the hand that cradles his cheek, smudge of gold and all. [say]"And I'd choose you,"[/say] he replies, effortlessly as it has ever been. [say]"In fact, I look forward to choosing you every day for the next ten years, and for however many more we get after that."[/say] And even when they are both in Mort's halls themselves, he'll be walking through paradise hand in hand with his husband. [say]"Shall we get these lanterns lit and give our thanks now?"[/say] he asks quietly. [say]"Because I'm liable to forget about them soon otherwise."[/say] RE: a mirror to the moon - Remi - 08-16-2025 Maybe in another ten years they’d reevaluate, see if they were still as disgustingly in love as they were now. The thought hums at the edges of Remi’s smile, lingering like the press of Ronin’s lips. There’s comfort in the absurdity of it—how even after everything, after curses and crowns and near-deaths—they could still sit on the deck of a ship with paint on their fingers and gold smudged on their cheeks, giggling like newlyweds with secrets. Still, Remi sighs as if it’s an immense hardship to move even a little. His eyes crease with quiet fondness, caught in the lingering candlelight across Ronin’s face like he’s trying to memorise him all over again. [say]"Hate to think where we’d be without you to keep us on track,"[/say] he mutters, reluctant fingers drawing back from his husband’s cheek. There’s a final squeeze, fleeting and affectionate, before he lets go entirely and turns his attention to the lanterns waiting patiently beside them. A tentacle uncoils, reaching toward one of the candles nestled between them. Its tip curls around the base as it lifts the flame carefully, casting flickers of orange and gold across the painted surfaces of their offerings. Remi leans slightly closer, waiting for Ronin to use the flame to light his lantern. [say]"Let’s light them,"[/say] he says quietly. [say]"If you take too long I am at risk of forgetting any name that isn't yours."[/say] RE: a mirror to the moon - Ronin - 08-16-2025 [say]"If it makes you feel any better, I hate keeping us on track a lot of the time - especially in Leafchange,"[/say] Ronin says with a wistful sigh, peeling himself away from Remi with just as much reluctance. Luckily he isn't going far, and he carefully lifts his lantern and tilts it towards the tiny candle flame that his husband has procured. Wary not to set it on fire entirely (though honestly Mort would probably laugh, he thinks), once it's aglow, he sits back and waits for Remi to follow suit. [say]"Even your own name?"[/say] The Knight's expression twists into something mischievous. [say]"That won't do. I think it'll work out, though - I plan to say it quite a few times tonight myself, so I can give you a reminder whenever you need one."[/say] When both of their lanterns are properly lit, adding two more glimmers of amber to Torchline's collective starlight, Ronin holds his aloft and prepares to let it go. [say]"Well, there we have it,"[/say] he says. [say]"Thanks, Mort, for all the hard work we don't see."[/say] RE: a mirror to the moon - Remi - 08-16-2025 [say]"If I had to guess,”"[/say] Remi drawls, giving his husband a sidelong glance full of fond exasperation, [say]"I don’t think Vi would mind if you stopped being the dutiful white knight for a few nights in Leafchange. "[/say] The wick flares as his lantern catches, the flicker of gold and soft shadow dancing across his features as he carefully tilts it upright. A brow lifts, smug and playful. [say]"What would I need to know my own name for?"[/say] he wonders, even as colour creeps up the bridge of his nose, betraying him with its warmth. Despite the teasing, he’s already hopelessly undone by the thought, and gods if it doesn't have his stomach sumemrsaulting. Raising his lantern to match his husband’s, Remi draws in a breath. [say]"Thank you,"[/say] he adds softly, voice catching just at the edge of something full and raw, [say]"for letting us keep our loved ones close, even when they feel so far."[/say] And when he lets the lantern go, it rises slow and certain into the stars, another flicker of light given back to the gods. |