we shall heal our wounds, collect our dead
Ronin examines his husband’s face, his expression, trying to judge whether or not he’s made a colossal mistake. He only relaxes as Remi draws him closer, the Star bringing up his other hand to press a kiss to his knuckles. ”I thought we agreed on a polecat,” he counters with a grin, content to stand in the embrace regardless of the thunder that continues to ripple closer, promising another soon-to-be downpour.
As for moving it? Ronin chuckles, glancing down at the tattoo. ”I can try,” he suggests, muscles flexing though it doesn’t really imitate movement all that well. ”I’m sure your illusion magic would be able to make it come to life.” Leaning in, he kisses Remi’s nose. ”Is it too much? I have poor impulse control. I just wanted to... I don’t know. Choose have your mark on me.”
As for moving it? Ronin chuckles, glancing down at the tattoo. ”I can try,” he suggests, muscles flexing though it doesn’t really imitate movement all that well. ”I’m sure your illusion magic would be able to make it come to life.” Leaning in, he kisses Remi’s nose. ”Is it too much? I have poor impulse control. I just wanted to... I don’t know. Choose have your mark on me.”
THE DARK STAR
and continue fighting
