REMI
Remi’s chuckle is warm and easy, right up until Ronin’s lips brush his cheek. The sound cuts off in a startled, almost twitterpated inhale that he absolutely fails to disguise, his breath catching as heat blooms across his skin. He glances back over his shoulder with a lopsided, half-melted smile, voice softening to something fond and teasing all at once. "No...you," he counters, letting himself drink in the sight of the overwhelmingly handsome man he married, lit now with a warm, steady glow instead of anxious fire.
He releases Ronin so the Knight can wander and investigate, running a hand through his dripping curls in an attempt to tame them (not even remotely successfully). When Ronin mentions the rapier again, Remi lifts his brows and exhales an exasperated sigh. "If nothing else," he says, tone matter-of-fact, "I bet whatever magic it had likely stopped powering it the moment the Family left Caido." Then, with a decidedly petty grin curling at his lips, he adds, "Hopefully he went to use it, nothing happened, and he immediately got his ass handed to him." The mental image pleases him far too much, and Ronin will feel the smug satisfaction pulse down the bond like a warm flicker of candlelight.
As for the heavier part—the other worlds, the guilt that tries to settle around Ronin’s heart—Remi shakes his head gently, curls dripping onto his shoulders. It’s not that he hasn’t thought about it; it’s that he knows better than to pretend either of them can solve the philosophy of multiversal ethics while standing in front of eldritch pods in a void-scarred cave. "Hopefully," he says quietly, "if there are other worlds, they pick on someone even more alien than they are, and the cycle stops." He pauses, before smirking. "Or perhaps they’ll come across an entire race of people who want to be enslaved, and it will all work out very nicely."
He releases Ronin so the Knight can wander and investigate, running a hand through his dripping curls in an attempt to tame them (not even remotely successfully). When Ronin mentions the rapier again, Remi lifts his brows and exhales an exasperated sigh. "If nothing else," he says, tone matter-of-fact, "I bet whatever magic it had likely stopped powering it the moment the Family left Caido." Then, with a decidedly petty grin curling at his lips, he adds, "Hopefully he went to use it, nothing happened, and he immediately got his ass handed to him." The mental image pleases him far too much, and Ronin will feel the smug satisfaction pulse down the bond like a warm flicker of candlelight.
As for the heavier part—the other worlds, the guilt that tries to settle around Ronin’s heart—Remi shakes his head gently, curls dripping onto his shoulders. It’s not that he hasn’t thought about it; it’s that he knows better than to pretend either of them can solve the philosophy of multiversal ethics while standing in front of eldritch pods in a void-scarred cave. "Hopefully," he says quietly, "if there are other worlds, they pick on someone even more alien than they are, and the cycle stops." He pauses, before smirking. "Or perhaps they’ll come across an entire race of people who want to be enslaved, and it will all work out very nicely."
Now don't you look so grand, runnin'
Through the reds of my traffic lights
Through the reds of my traffic lights
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.
