Ronin
welcome to the playground, follow me
tell me your nightmares and fantasies
tell me your nightmares and fantasies
Despite the obvious confrontation, a couple of individuals do come forward, at least, to gather up Jefferson's body, carrying it away where it can be properly examined in a post-mortem, poked and prodded and dissected cared for. And that's all the permission Ronin needs to stop being polite, the silver chain loose in his hands as he steps back a few more feet until he's closer to Remi than he is the remaining idio-- er, Hunters.
"I know," he says, barely hearing the words Remi says but (perhaps foolishly) assuming they were for him.
"This'un isn't going anywhere until those torches are out and there's a white-coat here to escort us," he snaps. "Or shall we fight about it?" Gods, he almost hopes they want to fight about it. He knew this was a fucking terrible idea. "Just keep your fucking heads for a second - why the fuck would he come down here if he'd killed the kid? Just thought he'd take the body for a stroll into the place that would... do this?"
"I know," he says, barely hearing the words Remi says but (perhaps foolishly) assuming they were for him.
"This'un isn't going anywhere until those torches are out and there's a white-coat here to escort us," he snaps. "Or shall we fight about it?" Gods, he almost hopes they want to fight about it. He knew this was a fucking terrible idea. "Just keep your fucking heads for a second - why the fuck would he come down here if he'd killed the kid? Just thought he'd take the body for a stroll into the place that would... do this?"
sink into the wasteland underneath
stay for the night, I'll sell you a dream
stay for the night, I'll sell you a dream
