REMI
the alchemist
I wear this crown of thorns
Upon my liar's chair
Upon my liar's chair
He let her shelter him; just a boy once again. "Mama, I'm in love." Remi whispered into the midnight of her curls. "We've been married a year and...oh." He laughs softly. "I forgot our anniversary. And we...we had a daughter..." New tears fall, more painful than the last, but cleansing in their own way.
The world fades away and there's just her in the softly falling snow.
The twists and alleys of the Hollowed Grounds are a familiar sight, as is the palpable darkness of LongNight. Lips parted in a silent O, Remi hardly notices his mother turning away until she is nought but smoke at his side, her kiss already cold on his cheek.
"Here—" Remi offers. The dark-eyed youth in such a mortal body is a paradigm-shifting thing to behold, and as the Alchemist finds himself in possession of this last piece of the puzzle. "—I know of a man foolish enough to leave his door unlocked." The Alchemist was of course that man, and the door, his soul.
The world fades away and there's just her in the softly falling snow.
The twists and alleys of the Hollowed Grounds are a familiar sight, as is the palpable darkness of LongNight. Lips parted in a silent O, Remi hardly notices his mother turning away until she is nought but smoke at his side, her kiss already cold on his cheek.
"Here—" Remi offers. The dark-eyed youth in such a mortal body is a paradigm-shifting thing to behold, and as the Alchemist finds himself in possession of this last piece of the puzzle. "—I know of a man foolish enough to leave his door unlocked." The Alchemist was of course that man, and the door, his soul.
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
I cannot repair
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.
