the bastion
Remi raises an eyebrow in weary agreement, because that feels just as possible as anything else, and perhaps worse for being so painfully simple. If Kaisel had given Flora fireworks where they had given her funeral bells, then no wonder she had looked at them as if they had taken something from her rather than merely failed to hand over what she wanted. Still, when Ronin asks him to lurk nearby, some of the heaviness softens from Remi’s mouth, and a boyish smirk slips into place despite the ache of the conversation. "I will happily haunt anywhere you want me to," he murmurs, the warmth in his voice threaded with enough dry humour to make the promise sound almost ordinary.
As Ronin speaks, Remi listens with his gaze lowered, not quite to the twins and not quite to their hands, but somewhere between the two, where all the things they have made and all the things they have failed seem to sit together. He nods slowly, because some damage being passed down does feel inevitable in the way scars change the movement of a limb even after the wound is closed, and yet inevitability has never made him feel absolved. Perhaps they had tried too hard to make their histories useful, to turn pain into a map and hand it to their children as though the roads would be the same.
He exhales softly and leans his head back against the sofa. "Or maybe she did it just to show that she was not afraid," he says, voice low and troubled, his eyes lifting toward Ronin again.
As Ronin speaks, Remi listens with his gaze lowered, not quite to the twins and not quite to their hands, but somewhere between the two, where all the things they have made and all the things they have failed seem to sit together. He nods slowly, because some damage being passed down does feel inevitable in the way scars change the movement of a limb even after the wound is closed, and yet inevitability has never made him feel absolved. Perhaps they had tried too hard to make their histories useful, to turn pain into a map and hand it to their children as though the roads would be the same.
He exhales softly and leans his head back against the sofa. "Or maybe she did it just to show that she was not afraid," he says, voice low and troubled, his eyes lifting toward Ronin again.
I can't pass the test,
don't wait for me.
don't wait for me.
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.
