a devil on the run, a six gun lover, a candle in the wind
"I'd be dead," Arsen points out - something that Remi will reiterate more than once in the course of the conversation. He'd be dead and so he wouldn't be around to like it if the same was done to him. And suddenly Remi is offering out his hand with an offer that all but has the youth's insides turning to water, though he's careful to set his jaw into something more impetuous. But utter shit he might be, he still knows gods, knows what they do, knows that there are times when he's just out of his league.
Today is one of those times. "You'd better," he mutters, trying for a brave face. And the claw-tipped hand reaches out to grasp Remi's in a gesture that's all false bravado, all trying to appear more than he is. But the alchemist will feel more than just the flutter of nerves, at least, the cold fear that this is death come for him - there's a reckless kind of curiosity there too, an urge to move, to fly, to be free. Arsen wants to catch birds and never be the one getting caught.
Today is one of those times. "You'd better," he mutters, trying for a brave face. And the claw-tipped hand reaches out to grasp Remi's in a gesture that's all false bravado, all trying to appear more than he is. But the alchemist will feel more than just the flutter of nerves, at least, the cold fear that this is death come for him - there's a reckless kind of curiosity there too, an urge to move, to fly, to be free. Arsen wants to catch birds and never be the one getting caught.
Arsen
