he had eyes like rain & hair like waves
& a soul as vast and deep as the ocean
& a soul as vast and deep as the ocean
Candlelight dances in the gentle sway of the sea, and Remi sits folded comfortably beside his husband, one leg bent, the other stretched out with the easy sprawl of someone who knows every board beneath him. His curls catch the flicker of the flame, his cheeks warm with the gold glow. A tentacle—faintly translucent and lazily curved—hovers above, holding his unfinished lantern aloft with a sort of casual reverence. Beneath it, he works with focused precision, painting a delicate golden door at its centre, framed by soft, spreading brushstrokes that suggest an endless forest beyond its frame. The paint shimmers faintly in the low light—quiet and respectful, a tribute more heartfelt than showy.
"I mean," Remi murmurs, glancing sideways with a mischievous grin, "I did put in a fair amount of legwork to get the rose." His gaze flickers over Ronin’s somber lantern, his smile softening around the edges. "Not that I’m saying Mort doesn’t deserve the thanks," he adds, tilting his head. "But do I get a lantern, too? Or am I just supposed to bask in the afterglow of being very heroic and underappreciated?"
He quirks his lips, the tease gentle but clear, before returning to the lantern in his lap. His brush adds another stroke to the golden door, steady and sure. "Mort letting them all come back for a night, was..." Shaking his head, Remi softens. "More than I could have ever hoped for."
The tentacle adjusts above him, the lantern turning slowly on its axis, catching both starlight and city-glow from the horizon beyond. "I think he’s more generous than people realise," Remi says quietly, more to himself than to Ronin.
"I mean," Remi murmurs, glancing sideways with a mischievous grin, "I did put in a fair amount of legwork to get the rose." His gaze flickers over Ronin’s somber lantern, his smile softening around the edges. "Not that I’m saying Mort doesn’t deserve the thanks," he adds, tilting his head. "But do I get a lantern, too? Or am I just supposed to bask in the afterglow of being very heroic and underappreciated?"
He quirks his lips, the tease gentle but clear, before returning to the lantern in his lap. His brush adds another stroke to the golden door, steady and sure. "Mort letting them all come back for a night, was..." Shaking his head, Remi softens. "More than I could have ever hoped for."
The tentacle adjusts above him, the lantern turning slowly on its axis, catching both starlight and city-glow from the horizon beyond. "I think he’s more generous than people realise," Remi says quietly, more to himself than to Ronin.
THE BASTION
& i guess i didn't mind d r o w n i n g in him.
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.
