but that was then, and this is now
Remi’s brows lift high as he nods in emphatic agreement. "Unfortunately, it is all too easy to forget the little things when your life is literally being threatened," he says, voice soft with rueful honesty. Still, the weight of it eases as he flashes a grin and shrugs. "But Deimos has done much for me over the years, and I can abide this amount of cold in small doses."
At Iskra’s offer, the Bastion tilts his head, a flicker of surprise giving way to warmth. For all his strength and the preternatural help of his shifting body, more hands are almost always better. He gestures toward the scattered piles. "I was just gathering up the brush I could find, but if you want to start setting them into lean-tos, that would be great." His mouth quirks as he laces his fingers together in demonstration, making the crude shape of an interlocked fence. "I hadn’t brought much in the way of supplies, but where I come from we built snake fences. The wood braces against itself that way, no rope or nails needed."
When Iskra teases about his popularity, Remi huffs out a dry laugh; popular was not an adjective normally associated with him, even at his best. He sidesteps neatly as Goose bolts past in pursuit of the fox, muttering, "Better him than me," as he narrowly avoids being clipped at the knees. Straightening again, he turns back with a touch more composure.
"My name is Remi," he offers, the R rolling with the lilt of the travelling tongue. "And you?"
At Iskra’s offer, the Bastion tilts his head, a flicker of surprise giving way to warmth. For all his strength and the preternatural help of his shifting body, more hands are almost always better. He gestures toward the scattered piles. "I was just gathering up the brush I could find, but if you want to start setting them into lean-tos, that would be great." His mouth quirks as he laces his fingers together in demonstration, making the crude shape of an interlocked fence. "I hadn’t brought much in the way of supplies, but where I come from we built snake fences. The wood braces against itself that way, no rope or nails needed."
When Iskra teases about his popularity, Remi huffs out a dry laugh; popular was not an adjective normally associated with him, even at his best. He sidesteps neatly as Goose bolts past in pursuit of the fox, muttering, "Better him than me," as he narrowly avoids being clipped at the knees. Straightening again, he turns back with a touch more composure.
"My name is Remi," he offers, the R rolling with the lilt of the travelling tongue. "And you?"
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.
