REMI
the bastion
Darling, you never could scare me
Set me ablaze like you do
Set me ablaze like you do
The sun’s just started its lazy climb, casting Torchline’s coast in warm gold and sleepy shadows, and the sand is already warm beneath their bare feet. The tide hums against the shore with the gentle rhythm of a long exhale, hels wheeling overhead, and the faint sizzle of oil from the breakfast taco stand still lingers in the air behind them.
Remi walks close enough that his arm brushes Ronin’s every few steps. One hand balances a wrapped taco—already half-devoured, the paper kissed with sauce—the other occasionally drifting toward Ronin’s to steal a pinch of slaw or fish when he thinks the Knight won’t notice. (He does. He always does.)
"Mmm," Remi hums around a mouthful, his seaglass eyes squinting into the light as he chews. "Still the best fish tacos in all of Caido, even if I’m pretty sure that sauce is just hot seawater and veiled threats."
They walk a little farther before he tilts his head toward Ronin with a half-lazy smile. "Hey, do you remember that wagon we lived in when we first got here?" His grin widens, boyish and crooked as he licks a bit of sauce from his thumb. "Do you know what ever happened to it? I was just thinking about it the other day—how it used to creak every time we moved, and how we kept pretending we were definitely going to fix it." His voice is light, teasing, threaded through with fondness like an old, well-worn sweater.
He glances over, biting back a smile. "What do you think? Think it collapsed into driftwood? Got turned into a fancy chicken coop?"
Remi walks close enough that his arm brushes Ronin’s every few steps. One hand balances a wrapped taco—already half-devoured, the paper kissed with sauce—the other occasionally drifting toward Ronin’s to steal a pinch of slaw or fish when he thinks the Knight won’t notice. (He does. He always does.)
"Mmm," Remi hums around a mouthful, his seaglass eyes squinting into the light as he chews. "Still the best fish tacos in all of Caido, even if I’m pretty sure that sauce is just hot seawater and veiled threats."
They walk a little farther before he tilts his head toward Ronin with a half-lazy smile. "Hey, do you remember that wagon we lived in when we first got here?" His grin widens, boyish and crooked as he licks a bit of sauce from his thumb. "Do you know what ever happened to it? I was just thinking about it the other day—how it used to creak every time we moved, and how we kept pretending we were definitely going to fix it." His voice is light, teasing, threaded through with fondness like an old, well-worn sweater.
He glances over, biting back a smile. "What do you think? Think it collapsed into driftwood? Got turned into a fancy chicken coop?"
I'd walk over coals in my bare feet
If that gets me closer to you
If that gets me closer to you
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.
