He said "I bet you don't remember me"
Remi’s brows rise with thoughtful interest, though without a mirror there is very little for him to consult beyond Kaisel’s barely contained laughter and the unfamiliar weight sitting above his mouth. He lifts a hand to the moustache, catching one of its long, curled ends between finger and thumb, and gives it an experimental twist as if the motion might reveal something essential about the look. "Oh really? You think so?"
The top hat comes off in his other hand as Kaisel bows, and Remi inclines his head in gracious acknowledgement, every inch the gentleman except for the ruby slippers glittering quite outrageously beneath the hem of his suit. He turns toward the balloon with a sweep of his arm, strolling across the confetti-dusted grass as though crystal-studded shoes and dragon-emblazoned airships are the natural conclusion to any reasonable afternoon.
Once Kaisel is in the basket, Remi reaches for the cord above their heads. A single pull sends the green flame roaring higher, bright and steady, and the balloon lifts from the ground with a smooth upward lurch. The ruined cottage, the flattened witch, the scattered candy trim, and the absurd little street all begin to shrink beneath them, becoming bright and toy-like as the dream pulls away from its own edges.
Remi rests one hand lightly against the side of the basket, moustache curling proudly over his smile as he glances across at Kaisel. "I think," he says, looking down as the world below turns small enough to fit in a storybook, "you just need to say there is no place like home, and we should wake up."
The top hat comes off in his other hand as Kaisel bows, and Remi inclines his head in gracious acknowledgement, every inch the gentleman except for the ruby slippers glittering quite outrageously beneath the hem of his suit. He turns toward the balloon with a sweep of his arm, strolling across the confetti-dusted grass as though crystal-studded shoes and dragon-emblazoned airships are the natural conclusion to any reasonable afternoon.
Once Kaisel is in the basket, Remi reaches for the cord above their heads. A single pull sends the green flame roaring higher, bright and steady, and the balloon lifts from the ground with a smooth upward lurch. The ruined cottage, the flattened witch, the scattered candy trim, and the absurd little street all begin to shrink beneath them, becoming bright and toy-like as the dream pulls away from its own edges.
Remi rests one hand lightly against the side of the basket, moustache curling proudly over his smile as he glances across at Kaisel. "I think," he says, looking down as the world below turns small enough to fit in a storybook, "you just need to say there is no place like home, and we should wake up."
and I said "only ever other memory"
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.
