REMI
Love it he did. Their house might be a disaster to everyone else's eyes, but to the Alchemist, it speaks volumes of the love and life lived within. Clothing thrown on the floor was a testament to the tireless affections and preoccupations of the two men who had been cooped up within these walls during the monsoon. Open cupboards and flour handprints on chairs weren't mess, but a humble appreciation for food. Who had time to properly close lids and push in chairs, when there were pancakes to be had?
"Easily." Remi replies to Amalia's exasperated question, flashing her a smile as she whips his cream(aayoo). "Well I'm not cooking, am I?" The Alchemist replies back in a mischievous tone, folding his arms across his chest as Amalia does the work for him. "It's called baking, you know." He adds helpfully.
Like Ronin, he knows precisely why Amalia is here, and were he to give her a hug, he'd feel it too. But..sometimes the best thing is just...space. A time when things can be easy, when the hard questions don't need to be asked and the unsaid things don't need to be danced around.
"Easily." Remi replies to Amalia's exasperated question, flashing her a smile as she whips his cream
Like Ronin, he knows precisely why Amalia is here, and were he to give her a hug, he'd feel it too. But..sometimes the best thing is just...space. A time when things can be easy, when the hard questions don't need to be asked and the unsaid things don't need to be danced around.
Who are you? They ask. Death?
Sometimes... I say. But not today
Sometimes... I say. But not today
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.
