REMI
The soft glow Hotaru emits has the Bastion blinking away his predator's stare, replacing nearly black eyes with soft sea-glass green. The gold warmth reminds him so much of Ronin's dazzle that he can't help but immediately be lulled by it, and though he hadn't expected to appear in a bed on a boat—he can tell that's what it must be, based on the dimensions, the nearby scent of the sea, and the gentle way everything is swaying—Remi finds himself relaxing down into the mattress ever so slightly.
She... Surprise widens the Bastion's eyes, and had it been anyone but Hotaru to say such a thing, likely there would be claws already pressing themselves from his fingertips in order to carve out the tongue which had admitted it. But no one has ever loved Flora more fiercely than Hotaru has, not even the Bastien, and so while he doesn't understand, he does stay a premature reaction, reaching to shrug a shoulder and extend one of his wings across Flora, draping his longest flight feathers across the Valkyrie rather than aiming claws at her throat.
"This?' Frowning, Remi's expression is similarly boyish rather than paternal as he tries to get a read on the woman curled on the opposite side of the bed; one who, in some sense, he knows intimately, and in others might as well be a stranger to him.
"Hotaru, convince her of what?" Splaying his outer feathers as if they were fingers, while there's no tactile feedback on his part, he hopes to soothe the muscles he can see coiling beneath Hotaru's golden skin.
She... Surprise widens the Bastion's eyes, and had it been anyone but Hotaru to say such a thing, likely there would be claws already pressing themselves from his fingertips in order to carve out the tongue which had admitted it. But no one has ever loved Flora more fiercely than Hotaru has, not even the Bastien, and so while he doesn't understand, he does stay a premature reaction, reaching to shrug a shoulder and extend one of his wings across Flora, draping his longest flight feathers across the Valkyrie rather than aiming claws at her throat.
"This?' Frowning, Remi's expression is similarly boyish rather than paternal as he tries to get a read on the woman curled on the opposite side of the bed; one who, in some sense, he knows intimately, and in others might as well be a stranger to him.
"Hotaru, convince her of what?" Splaying his outer feathers as if they were fingers, while there's no tactile feedback on his part, he hopes to soothe the muscles he can see coiling beneath Hotaru's golden skin.
Who are you? They ask. Death?
Sometimes... I say. But not today
Sometimes... I say. But not today
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.
