This scar I can't reverse, when the more it heals the worse it hurts
Remi watches the red droplets ripple across the river’s surface before he nods, slowly, as if the answer carries weight even now. "It really was," he says, his voice low but honest. "I don’t think I realised how much until I stepped away from it. Taking lives day after day, though... even gently, even for a purpose—it grinds something out of you."
His sea-glass gaze drifts to the forest around them, to the filtered light through the trees, and he seems to breathe a little deeper for it. "Being Mort’s is different. My role now is to protect the boundary between life and death. To preserve the peace of it. It’s not flashy, and it doesn’t ask for blood—but after everything I’ve seen, I find it... satisfying. Grounding, even."
A small smile flickers at the corner of his mouth. "And Mort—he’s kind. Patient in a way that Ludo never was. There are never any games or uncertainties." Remi shrugs slightly, as if that simplicity is still something that surprises him now and then.
His sea-glass gaze drifts to the forest around them, to the filtered light through the trees, and he seems to breathe a little deeper for it. "Being Mort’s is different. My role now is to protect the boundary between life and death. To preserve the peace of it. It’s not flashy, and it doesn’t ask for blood—but after everything I’ve seen, I find it... satisfying. Grounding, even."
A small smile flickers at the corner of his mouth. "And Mort—he’s kind. Patient in a way that Ludo never was. There are never any games or uncertainties." Remi shrugs slightly, as if that simplicity is still something that surprises him now and then.
REMI
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.
