the bastion
Maybe I'm a runaway train
Maybe I'm a feather in a hurricane
Maybe I'm a feather in a hurricane
Remi’s hand lingers on the moss-covered stone, his fingers brushing absently over a crack as if memory might rise like mist from the fracture. At Theea’s question, he exhales softly and glances over his shoulder, a warm, wry curve to his mouth. "Mmm? I'm not surprised. We were trapped beneath the barrier for years. Ashe likely didn’t have the fondest memories of this place." His sea-glass eyes sweep the green-choked remnants, gaze steady. "For a while, it felt like no matter how much we built, it would always end in loss."
He steps back, shifting slightly to face her, his arms folding loosely as his expression softens. "But yes—this was it." There’s something wistful in the way he says it. "Downstairs was all warm woods and mismatched chairs. We had a massive kitchen with a hearth, and there was always something cooking. People came and went, brought in pelts, stories, teeth from something they’d just killed." His brow quirks faintly. "Ronin and Vanya lived on the second floor, before..." Pauising, Remi swallows. "..before she died. And then Ronin died, and.."
The moment passes like a breeze through leaves, rustling but not lingering, leaving the Bastion sighing softly.
Hearing Deimos’s name draws a genuine grin. "He’s a good man. Bit quiet, but reliable." He raises an eyebrow at her. "Crashed it, did you? You thinking about joining?" His smile is crooked now, boyish. "It’s not a bad way to see Caido. Plenty of trouble to get into, even more to learn. I'm sure Ronin would happily tag along."
When she thanks him, his gaze softens again, and he dips his head slightly. "Of course," he murmurs, feeling something in his chest both loosen and lock up all at once. "I’m glad you’re here."
Then, at her final question, his expression shifts—quiet and a little conspiratorial. He glances sidelong at her, the green light filtering through the canopy casting shifting patterns over his skin. "Can you keep a secret?" he asks, voice low. "I need a piece of the guild. Just a small one." He taps his fingers gently against the stone. "For something I’m planning for Ronin." A pause, and then, teasingly: "So if you tell him, I’ll have to throw you into a boggart’s den. Very gently, of course."
He steps back, shifting slightly to face her, his arms folding loosely as his expression softens. "But yes—this was it." There’s something wistful in the way he says it. "Downstairs was all warm woods and mismatched chairs. We had a massive kitchen with a hearth, and there was always something cooking. People came and went, brought in pelts, stories, teeth from something they’d just killed." His brow quirks faintly. "Ronin and Vanya lived on the second floor, before..." Pauising, Remi swallows. "..before she died. And then Ronin died, and.."
The moment passes like a breeze through leaves, rustling but not lingering, leaving the Bastion sighing softly.
Hearing Deimos’s name draws a genuine grin. "He’s a good man. Bit quiet, but reliable." He raises an eyebrow at her. "Crashed it, did you? You thinking about joining?" His smile is crooked now, boyish. "It’s not a bad way to see Caido. Plenty of trouble to get into, even more to learn. I'm sure Ronin would happily tag along."
When she thanks him, his gaze softens again, and he dips his head slightly. "Of course," he murmurs, feeling something in his chest both loosen and lock up all at once. "I’m glad you’re here."
Then, at her final question, his expression shifts—quiet and a little conspiratorial. He glances sidelong at her, the green light filtering through the canopy casting shifting patterns over his skin. "Can you keep a secret?" he asks, voice low. "I need a piece of the guild. Just a small one." He taps his fingers gently against the stone. "For something I’m planning for Ronin." A pause, and then, teasingly: "So if you tell him, I’ll have to throw you into a boggart’s den. Very gently, of course."
Maybe it's a long play game
But maybe that's a good thing
But maybe that's a good thing
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.
