REMI
the bastion
What good are hands
if there's nothing that they hold
if there's nothing that they hold
Remi looks up from the table as Colt leans closer and if she looks on the table she'll see a compact, intricate thing of glass and metal that hums faintly with restrained magic that looks vaguely like a camera. His brows lift at robbed, surprise soft but genuine, and though it is normally the sort of claim that might earn a careful question, experience has long since taught him that when it comes to women and their appearances, it's usually better for him to keep his questions to himself.
"Oh no," he says quietly, sympathy arriving without hesitation as he turns toward her, hands coming to rest loosely on the edge of the worktable so he is no longer half-lost in the project. He listens without interrupting as she explains, and when she pulls her glasses down and looks at him properly, Remi meets her stare without flinching, and he nods almost immediately. "Of course I can," he says, the reassurance easy and sincere. A boyish smile tugs at his mouth as he adds, a little bashful now, "Before all of this, I was an alchemist. I miss making things sometimes." One shoulder lifts in a small shrug. "So I would be happy to help."
His eyes drift briefly to the wig she is wearing now, then back to her face as he tilts his head, thoughtful rather than judgmental. "You were blonde before, right?" he asks, fairly certain she was. "Do you want that again, or would you rather lean into this darker look instead?"
"Oh no," he says quietly, sympathy arriving without hesitation as he turns toward her, hands coming to rest loosely on the edge of the worktable so he is no longer half-lost in the project. He listens without interrupting as she explains, and when she pulls her glasses down and looks at him properly, Remi meets her stare without flinching, and he nods almost immediately. "Of course I can," he says, the reassurance easy and sincere. A boyish smile tugs at his mouth as he adds, a little bashful now, "Before all of this, I was an alchemist. I miss making things sometimes." One shoulder lifts in a small shrug. "So I would be happy to help."
His eyes drift briefly to the wig she is wearing now, then back to her face as he tilts his head, thoughtful rather than judgmental. "You were blonde before, right?" he asks, fairly certain she was. "Do you want that again, or would you rather lean into this darker look instead?"
And what good are hearts
if you bury them all alone?
if you bury them all alone?
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.
