Let's not get lost in the dark blue
But darling if we do, just find me and I'll find you
But darling if we do, just find me and I'll find you
The moment Remi catches sight of Isla, something boyish and unguarded breaks across his face. He slows the stroller to let her fall into step beside him, one tentacle still dutifully making the cloth manta ray swoop in lazy circles while the other pauses mid-jingle. "I should hope not," he says with a chuckle, accepting the cup from her mittened hand and lifting it close enough to breathe in the steam before taking a cautious sip, knowing just how hot Isla liked her drinks.
His gaze flicks over her properly then, taking in the blue scarf whipping around her neck, the colour in her face, the ease in her eyes. Where Remi looks as though the night has chewed him thoroughly and decided he was too stubborn to swallow, Isla seems almost lit from within, the kind of bright that speaks of sleeping through the night. His smile softens, warmed by relief as much as affection. "You look great," he says, tilting his head a little as if trying to catch the trick of it from the angle of her shoulders or the shine in her expression. "You will have to tell me your secret."
At the sound of Isla cooing into the stroller, Carlo’s fist closes hard around the ribbon he has conquered, while Calan stares up with the solemn suspicion of a tiny judge considering whether she deserves his favour. Remi glances between them, then back to Isla, his amusement deepening as he gives a self-deprecating roll of his eyes. "They are, yes. If there is such a thing as being more than identical, they are that." He nudges the stroller forward again at an easy pace, coffee balanced carefully in one hand while the tentacles resume their work. "Ronin and I have put their names on the inside of their clothing, which helps in theory, though it is still entirely possible that after every bathtime we end up mixing them up."
His gaze flicks over her properly then, taking in the blue scarf whipping around her neck, the colour in her face, the ease in her eyes. Where Remi looks as though the night has chewed him thoroughly and decided he was too stubborn to swallow, Isla seems almost lit from within, the kind of bright that speaks of sleeping through the night. His smile softens, warmed by relief as much as affection. "You look great," he says, tilting his head a little as if trying to catch the trick of it from the angle of her shoulders or the shine in her expression. "You will have to tell me your secret."
At the sound of Isla cooing into the stroller, Carlo’s fist closes hard around the ribbon he has conquered, while Calan stares up with the solemn suspicion of a tiny judge considering whether she deserves his favour. Remi glances between them, then back to Isla, his amusement deepening as he gives a self-deprecating roll of his eyes. "They are, yes. If there is such a thing as being more than identical, they are that." He nudges the stroller forward again at an easy pace, coffee balanced carefully in one hand while the tentacles resume their work. "Ronin and I have put their names on the inside of their clothing, which helps in theory, though it is still entirely possible that after every bathtime we end up mixing them up."
the bastion
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.
