and my heart ran away with me
Remi’s response flares bright and immediate through the bond, his brow lifting in exaggerated disbelief even as delight curls warmly beneath it. All of my favourite things? The incredulity is boyish and daring, threaded through with a flirtatious flush that makes the promise sound less like taunting and more like a personal challenge he fully intends to hold Ronin to.
With no better options presenting themselves and no time to indulge in overthinking, he answers Ronin’s plan with a simple, resolute nod, peeling away from him as smoothly as if they’d rehearsed it a hundred times before. The shift comes midair, abrupt and grotesque in its efficiency: wings folding away as massive limbs unfurl, bone and flesh reshaping in a heartbeat into something vast and unmistakably monstrous. Tentacles burst outward, thick and powerful, catching the air for a split second before gravity and intention pull him down toward the sea.
He hits the water already changing, the lower bulk of his new form sinking fast beneath the surface. By the time he's shifted, most of his body is submerged, leaving only great lengths of tentacle rising and falling above the waves. At first the splashing is clumsy, ineffective—white water and spray more dramatic than useful—but Remi persists, methodical even in this absurdity. Soon the sea begins to answer; with each sweeping motion he builds momentum, tentacles carving wide arcs that pull and push the water until the waves grow heavier, broader, rolling in deliberate succession toward the shore. Like a child discovering the power of a bathtub made infinite, he sends them surging landward, great walls of seawater racing to meet bone-white sands and creeping flame.
With no better options presenting themselves and no time to indulge in overthinking, he answers Ronin’s plan with a simple, resolute nod, peeling away from him as smoothly as if they’d rehearsed it a hundred times before. The shift comes midair, abrupt and grotesque in its efficiency: wings folding away as massive limbs unfurl, bone and flesh reshaping in a heartbeat into something vast and unmistakably monstrous. Tentacles burst outward, thick and powerful, catching the air for a split second before gravity and intention pull him down toward the sea.
He hits the water already changing, the lower bulk of his new form sinking fast beneath the surface. By the time he's shifted, most of his body is submerged, leaving only great lengths of tentacle rising and falling above the waves. At first the splashing is clumsy, ineffective—white water and spray more dramatic than useful—but Remi persists, methodical even in this absurdity. Soon the sea begins to answer; with each sweeping motion he builds momentum, tentacles carving wide arcs that pull and push the water until the waves grow heavier, broader, rolling in deliberate succession toward the shore. Like a child discovering the power of a bathtub made infinite, he sends them surging landward, great walls of seawater racing to meet bone-white sands and creeping flame.
remi
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.
