it was all dead end roads, heaven knows
The world for Remi now was a startlingly different landscape. Places unknown to him were wreathed in blacks and low contrast lines that made it nearly impossible to discern the ground from the sky. And places he did know well—the guild, his home?—they were lined with silver and white. Distinguishable, but without saturation. Dull. Lifeless. The only saving grace was that for all the diminished hues, their utter and complete lack of anything made the few people that Remi could see, appear positively radiant in comparison. They blazed with colour and definition, and while Remi wasn't certain, he thought it was simply those with whom he was most familiar who received this colourful-treatment (wrong).
The sound of the door opening did not draw the alchemist's attention. Many came and went, using the various tools Remi had created, the work stations, the resources. Such was the purpose of this place after all. But hearing his name, especially in a tone of voice that he immediately recognized however, did stall his movements and cause a lazy smile to spread across his face. Covered in charcoal (when wasn't he), Remi was bent over a rather interesting piece of parchment. Each stroke upon its surface caused a 3D representation to appear in the air before him. Illusory though it was, it was extremely helpful in trying to plan out different creations that Remi was working on, rather than expending the magic needed to physically proceed by trial and error. The illusion was a telescope, though neither man would likely know that word for it. Instead, Remi had taken to calling it his star-gazer; a project he'd been working on for years now.
"Rory?" Remi returned, the name made buoyant thanks to his accent as the alchemist set his stub of charcoal down. Squinting through the haze, he could make out smudges of gold outlining the farmer's face, his skin like umber, and eyes like smears of sapphire. Smile widening with boyish ease, the alchemist tilted his head softly to the side, surprised at the sudden appearance of the man that he'd always had a not-quite-missed-connection with.
The sound of the door opening did not draw the alchemist's attention. Many came and went, using the various tools Remi had created, the work stations, the resources. Such was the purpose of this place after all. But hearing his name, especially in a tone of voice that he immediately recognized however, did stall his movements and cause a lazy smile to spread across his face. Covered in charcoal (when wasn't he), Remi was bent over a rather interesting piece of parchment. Each stroke upon its surface caused a 3D representation to appear in the air before him. Illusory though it was, it was extremely helpful in trying to plan out different creations that Remi was working on, rather than expending the magic needed to physically proceed by trial and error. The illusion was a telescope, though neither man would likely know that word for it. Instead, Remi had taken to calling it his star-gazer; a project he'd been working on for years now.
"Rory?" Remi returned, the name made buoyant thanks to his accent as the alchemist set his stub of charcoal down. Squinting through the haze, he could make out smudges of gold outlining the farmer's face, his skin like umber, and eyes like smears of sapphire. Smile widening with boyish ease, the alchemist tilted his head softly to the side, surprised at the sudden appearance of the man that he'd always had a not-quite-missed-connection with.
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.
