These are the last blues we're ever gonna have
The springs were destroyed.
The words land like stones in Remi’s chest, sinking deep, heavy, final. He doesn’t speak for a moment, his breath pressing tight behind his ribs, his mind moving too fast in too many directions at once. Without the springs, there’s no way to cleanse Ronin the way they'd cleansed Sunjata or Hotaru. The way Isla was meant to cleanse Everest.
The hand on his shoulder is unexpected, but grounding. It stills something inside him that was threatening to spiral too fast, too far. His seaglass eyes flick up to Sunjata’s face, tracing the tension there, the way grief and exhaustion settle into the lines of his jaw. It’s a strange thing, this momentary closeness between them, if only because for all the bad blood once between them and the hilarity of friendship that had come before, gods but Remi is relieved that out of anyone who might have told him this news, that it's Sunjata doing it.
"Fuck." His fingers tighten, briefly, in the torn bread still clutched in his other hand before he tosses the ruined loaf aside, dusting the crumbs from his palm. "I've got to get home to him." Panic nearly has Remi's feet moving before his mind can catch up, and already he's mid-turn before he stalls and glances over his shoulder at the Flood.
"When you were infected...if someone had asked you about it...would you have told them? Would..did you have to hide it?"
The words land like stones in Remi’s chest, sinking deep, heavy, final. He doesn’t speak for a moment, his breath pressing tight behind his ribs, his mind moving too fast in too many directions at once. Without the springs, there’s no way to cleanse Ronin the way they'd cleansed Sunjata or Hotaru. The way Isla was meant to cleanse Everest.
The hand on his shoulder is unexpected, but grounding. It stills something inside him that was threatening to spiral too fast, too far. His seaglass eyes flick up to Sunjata’s face, tracing the tension there, the way grief and exhaustion settle into the lines of his jaw. It’s a strange thing, this momentary closeness between them, if only because for all the bad blood once between them and the hilarity of friendship that had come before, gods but Remi is relieved that out of anyone who might have told him this news, that it's Sunjata doing it.
"Fuck." His fingers tighten, briefly, in the torn bread still clutched in his other hand before he tosses the ruined loaf aside, dusting the crumbs from his palm. "I've got to get home to him." Panic nearly has Remi's feet moving before his mind can catch up, and already he's mid-turn before he stalls and glances over his shoulder at the Flood.
"When you were infected...if someone had asked you about it...would you have told them? Would..did you have to hide it?"
the glow of the cities below lead us back to the places that we never should have left
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.
