REMI
the alchemist
What good are hands
if there's nothing that they hold
if there's nothing that they hold
Remi’s smile lingers, soft and easy, as Sohalia produces the jar. There’s no hesitation as he reaches out to take it, his fingers careful around the glass, his warmth steady despite the quiet fatigue that clings to him. "I will be right back," he promises, voice low and reassuring, as if stepping away were no more consequential than crossing a room.
He turns, moving with that same unthinking grace that seems to follow him even now, and without ceremony slips over the edge of the Northaven. The water receives him with a clean, quiet sound, the surface breaking and smoothing again in the span of a breath. For a moment, there is only the gentle shift of the tide, then the ripples widen as he resurfaces briefly a short distance out, drawing in a breath before disappearing beneath the surface once more, this time for longer.
It isn’t long before something moves beneath it and the surface dimples, then lifts, and from it emerges a massive, slick length of something unmistakably not human. A tentacle rises, deliberate and controlled, its movement careful despite its size, the skin dark and glistening in the daylight. One of its suckers holds the jar, secured with surprising gentleness, extended toward Sohalia’s feet with the sort of precision that suggests far more awareness than brute instinct.
Only once the jar is taken does the appendage loosen its hold, withdrawing back into the water with a slow, sinuous motion, leaving behind only the faint disturbance of its passing. A few moments later, Remi reappears at the ladder, hauling himself back onto the Northaven with easy strength. Water streams from him as he climbs, one hand pushing wet curls from his face as he regains the deck, the housecoat clinging a bit more heavily now where it’s soaked through.
There’s a quiet exhale as he straightens, as though the shift back into himself settles into place just beneath his skin, and when he looks back to Sohalia, there’s that same gentle steadiness in his expression. "That should be enough," he says, voice soft, as if mindful of the fragile quiet just beyond the door. "But let me know if you need more."
He turns, moving with that same unthinking grace that seems to follow him even now, and without ceremony slips over the edge of the Northaven. The water receives him with a clean, quiet sound, the surface breaking and smoothing again in the span of a breath. For a moment, there is only the gentle shift of the tide, then the ripples widen as he resurfaces briefly a short distance out, drawing in a breath before disappearing beneath the surface once more, this time for longer.
It isn’t long before something moves beneath it and the surface dimples, then lifts, and from it emerges a massive, slick length of something unmistakably not human. A tentacle rises, deliberate and controlled, its movement careful despite its size, the skin dark and glistening in the daylight. One of its suckers holds the jar, secured with surprising gentleness, extended toward Sohalia’s feet with the sort of precision that suggests far more awareness than brute instinct.
Only once the jar is taken does the appendage loosen its hold, withdrawing back into the water with a slow, sinuous motion, leaving behind only the faint disturbance of its passing. A few moments later, Remi reappears at the ladder, hauling himself back onto the Northaven with easy strength. Water streams from him as he climbs, one hand pushing wet curls from his face as he regains the deck, the housecoat clinging a bit more heavily now where it’s soaked through.
There’s a quiet exhale as he straightens, as though the shift back into himself settles into place just beneath his skin, and when he looks back to Sohalia, there’s that same gentle steadiness in his expression. "That should be enough," he says, voice soft, as if mindful of the fragile quiet just beyond the door. "But let me know if you need more."
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.
