Я
"Vai, perhaps?" Actually, Vai was the only one Remi knew of having proper healing magic in any substantial amount. Other than that, he merely shook his head. "They heal so fast I am not sure any have tried." With a glance towards Loren, the alchemist exhaled a steady stream from his nose. "Easy? They will have to be significantly wounded. Give them something small like a knife wound and they'll heal before your eyes."
Remi offered the bard a non-committal sound. No Ronin hadn't passed along the descriptions of different magic, but yes Remi would like it. Just now the words seemed to be far too much, and so he pulsed a weak note of appreciation to the bard even as his gaze lingered on the Oasis soil.
Nerves too frayed, heart too raw, soul too lonely, the most Remi could do was laugh hollowly at the summoner. "Don't worry Loren. I have not seen Ronin in a week or so. You are safe." The words were cold; far colder than most would likely think the alchemist capable of. But that was what happened when your nights were spent alone. It wasn't what the summoner had meant, but the alchemist didn't care. Ronin wasn't around to be bothered about his condition, so Loren shouldn't either.
Tell Rory you love him every day until you no longer can. Do not take a single moment of clarity for granted. The words were silent, but the tears in Remi's eyes were loud enough. I am sorry. I cannot do this right now. Whether the bard would look into the alchemist's bared soul was his choice. If he did though, he'd find it thoroughly scared and scarred, drowned in a sea of agony, longing, and heartbreak. Ronin was gone, in mind and in body, and the alchemist simply couldn't take Loren's flippant optimism. Not when he hadn't been here, not when he was just starting to unravel this puzzle and still had hope to spare.
And so as Loren turned to conjure the Spark Bird, the alchemist shifted, and flew unsteadily away.
Remi offered the bard a non-committal sound. No Ronin hadn't passed along the descriptions of different magic, but yes Remi would like it. Just now the words seemed to be far too much, and so he pulsed a weak note of appreciation to the bard even as his gaze lingered on the Oasis soil.
Nerves too frayed, heart too raw, soul too lonely, the most Remi could do was laugh hollowly at the summoner. "Don't worry Loren. I have not seen Ronin in a week or so. You are safe." The words were cold; far colder than most would likely think the alchemist capable of. But that was what happened when your nights were spent alone. It wasn't what the summoner had meant, but the alchemist didn't care. Ronin wasn't around to be bothered about his condition, so Loren shouldn't either.
Tell Rory you love him every day until you no longer can. Do not take a single moment of clarity for granted. The words were silent, but the tears in Remi's eyes were loud enough. I am sorry. I cannot do this right now. Whether the bard would look into the alchemist's bared soul was his choice. If he did though, he'd find it thoroughly scared and scarred, drowned in a sea of agony, longing, and heartbreak. Ronin was gone, in mind and in body, and the alchemist simply couldn't take Loren's flippant optimism. Not when he hadn't been here, not when he was just starting to unravel this puzzle and still had hope to spare.
And so as Loren turned to conjure the Spark Bird, the alchemist shifted, and flew unsteadily away.
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.
