REMI
The Alchemist shoots Saiden a hard look—though in his current condition, it's probably just a bleary-eyed stare—before swallowing hard. There are words on the tip of his tongue, ways he might be helpful, magics and shifts he could offer, but he just can't seem to get them past his lips. Even with Sugar on his chest, in Halo of all places, he thinks he might melt away. Like being held just above a flame where it would be easier to crash into the heat and burn up than to endure the searing sting any longer, Remi can feel his mind wandering away into madness.
"Ronin..." He softly whispers, a hand that is suddenly clawed and mottled by golden fear reaching out for the huntsman's arm. There is a snarl on Remi's lips as his eyes roll back into his head, sweat shiny on his brow.
This is not a meeting that the alchemist will be able to endure (passively) much longer.
"Ronin..." He softly whispers, a hand that is suddenly clawed and mottled by golden fear reaching out for the huntsman's arm. There is a snarl on Remi's lips as his eyes roll back into his head, sweat shiny on his brow.
This is not a meeting that the alchemist will be able to endure (passively) much longer.
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.
