RONIN
the white knight
light is easy to love.
Offering the other man an incredulous raise of his brows over the rim of his wine glass, Ronin holds it out for a refill willingly, needing it after the scorch of that particular burn. "Careful, husband," he drawls, "or you may find my attire becomes rather flamboyant in the coming weeks." And the gods know that Ronin Taliesin will strut around Torchline in a feather boa and mismatched flip-flops, so the threat is real.
Not expecting the sudden invitiation to right a wrong he'd never realised he'd committed, of course the Knight rises instantly to the challenge, taking a fresh sip of his drink before setting it down and rising to his feet, clearing his throat as if to re-settle the image of captain of training over his now markedly more grizzled self.
"Remi," he says, his tone one of polite surprise as if he's just run into the other man by chance, "gods, it's been a while. I'm just on my way out for a drink, if you want to join me?"
Not expecting the sudden invitiation to right a wrong he'd never realised he'd committed, of course the Knight rises instantly to the challenge, taking a fresh sip of his drink before setting it down and rising to his feet, clearing his throat as if to re-settle the image of captain of training over his now markedly more grizzled self.
"Remi," he says, his tone one of polite surprise as if he's just run into the other man by chance, "gods, it's been a while. I'm just on my way out for a drink, if you want to join me?"
show me your darkness.
