REMI
the bastion
& my heart ran away with me
Remi lifts his brows in emphatic agreement, his needle pausing midair. "Exactly. No wonder Ludo got bored of me," he says, mouth twitching into a crooked grin. He threads the stitch through with a quiet, satisfied sound, only to jolt slightly when something brushes his calf. Much as he adores the attention, Ronin will feel the faint pressure of a tentacle, cool and sinuous, sliding along the back of his leg like a lazy cat (or dragon) winding around his shin. Remi doesn’t even look up, but merely grins into the hood he’s pinning together.
As Ronin makes his request, the Bastion lifts the half-finished cloak to inspect it, tilting his head thoughtfully. "A grab-pocket," he muses aloud, as if he’s pondering the structural integrity of the idea. His smirk curves wider. "Though I’m wondering—was it just my ass you were hoping to get your hand on?" His eyes flick up, teasing and warm, before adding dryly, "it won't be terribly cold in the Greatwood. Perhaps I don't need to wear much of anything beneath this cloak."
As Ronin makes his request, the Bastion lifts the half-finished cloak to inspect it, tilting his head thoughtfully. "A grab-pocket," he muses aloud, as if he’s pondering the structural integrity of the idea. His smirk curves wider. "Though I’m wondering—was it just my ass you were hoping to get your hand on?" His eyes flick up, teasing and warm, before adding dryly, "it won't be terribly cold in the Greatwood. Perhaps I don't need to wear much of anything beneath this cloak."
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.
