REMI
Remi watches as she steps forward, slow and measured, the space between them shifting in increments rather than strides. He’s used to caution—it’s a survival instinct he recognizes well, though he doubts it’s him specifically she’s wary of. At least, not entirely. His lips press together in something close to a weary smirk—though there’s no real amusement behind it—before he nods. "I am," he confirms simply. Being recognized isn’t surprising; he’s spent too long with his name tied to gods, war, and all the wreckage in between to expect anything else.
His seaglass gaze lingers on her, studying the way she’s eased—just slightly—now that she has her answer. There’s something familiar in it, the way she’s watching him, reading him, like she’s weighing the truth of him beyond his words. Smart, he thinks again, though he doesn’t say it aloud. "And you?"
His seaglass gaze lingers on her, studying the way she’s eased—just slightly—now that she has her answer. There’s something familiar in it, the way she’s watching him, reading him, like she’s weighing the truth of him beyond his words. Smart, he thinks again, though he doesn’t say it aloud. "And you?"
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.
