RONIN
"Of course she is," Ronin mutters with a roll of his eyes. His opinions of the Ascended were very much the same as any other race (i.e. Ronin didn't give a fuck if they had fangs or hard cocks, as long as they weren't cunts), but the Voice is another matter. Especially since she'd given him that little memento in the form of a massive fucking scar in his chest. Nodding his agreement to Remi, Ronin shifts to try and balance as his husband sits himself up so the Star is properly in his lap.
"And I'll let you know anything I hear as well," he says, momentarily distracted and a bit breathless to have Remi so close. His fingers sneak up so they can run along the strong line of the alchemist's jaw, to slip up into the rich tangle of his curls, to brush a thumb across an unshaven cheek. Hearing that Mateo is almost speaking is enough to take his breath completely, his throat growing unexpectedly tight. I've missed so much, the bond between them screams, and it's not something he trusts to give words properly.
Instead, locking eyes with Remi, the Star's returning smile is guilty and sad. "Not great," he admits through a whisper. "Drinking, most days. Trying to figure out what I'm supposed to do with the Dragoons. Trying to get back to you." The last part is almost inaudible, Ronin shrugging his shoulders. "Tried to get into the Order, but that was a no-go. So I went to Safrin. I'm going to project to the Greatwood, the first chance I get."
"And I'll let you know anything I hear as well," he says, momentarily distracted and a bit breathless to have Remi so close. His fingers sneak up so they can run along the strong line of the alchemist's jaw, to slip up into the rich tangle of his curls, to brush a thumb across an unshaven cheek. Hearing that Mateo is almost speaking is enough to take his breath completely, his throat growing unexpectedly tight. I've missed so much, the bond between them screams, and it's not something he trusts to give words properly.
Instead, locking eyes with Remi, the Star's returning smile is guilty and sad. "Not great," he admits through a whisper. "Drinking, most days. Trying to figure out what I'm supposed to do with the Dragoons. Trying to get back to you." The last part is almost inaudible, Ronin shrugging his shoulders. "Tried to get into the Order, but that was a no-go. So I went to Safrin. I'm going to project to the Greatwood, the first chance I get."
soft spoken with a broken jaw
we step outside, but not to brawl
we step outside, but not to brawl
