Now the ashes of tomorrow sing your sad song
Remi chuckles as their hands clasp, letting himself be drawn down and in with Ronin like it’s the most natural place in the world to be. "We can always try to tempt them with breadcrumbs," he muses aloud, wings folding and vanishing as his feet find the uneven stone once more. "A little picnic. A little murder. Very romantic."
At Ronin’s comment about spores, Remi sighs dramatically, planting one hand against his chest as if wounded. "You know," he says, all theatrical lament, "I’d still like a proper explanation for how spores made it onto the list of things you’re willing to put in your mouth, but my tentacles remain suspiciously absent."
He grins, just a little too pleased with himself, and it only deepens as Ronin’s hands begin their careful inventory. "Actually," Remi murmurs, raising a brow with feigned confusion, "I think something did nick me. Somewhere." He hums, tilting his head, as though trying to remember. "I’d be very grateful if you’d help me find out just where."
At Ronin’s comment about spores, Remi sighs dramatically, planting one hand against his chest as if wounded. "You know," he says, all theatrical lament, "I’d still like a proper explanation for how spores made it onto the list of things you’re willing to put in your mouth, but my tentacles remain suspiciously absent."
He grins, just a little too pleased with himself, and it only deepens as Ronin’s hands begin their careful inventory. "Actually," Remi murmurs, raising a brow with feigned confusion, "I think something did nick me. Somewhere." He hums, tilting his head, as though trying to remember. "I’d be very grateful if you’d help me find out just where."
the bastion
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.
