right now everything you want is wrong
& right now all your dreams are waking up
& right now all your dreams are waking up
It hasn't hurt as much as it should, because Remi won't let it. After Aoife died the alchemist wore his heart on his sleeve. He grieved publicly. He burned for all to see. But that had been wrong, he'd been told. He hadn't coped the way that was expected.; he'd taken too long to move on. So perhaps, progressive as Caido boasted, he really was just supposed to swallow down his feelings.
He'd try. He'd gotten rather good at it.
Only when Remi saw Zeph come home to look after Vai—Remi having perched outside as a hawk—did he take flight, and then vanish. His whispered apology as he awoke next to Ianto likely meant nothing to the merchant, so often had he done precisely this sort of thing as of late, and then Remi was up and in the brisk air of the Greatwood once again.
Now he stands on the border between the Woods and the Hollowed Ground, feeling more alone than ever he had before. Remi is a poor approximation of man in anguish: he doesn't cry (no matter how his eyes sting and burn), he stands with his back straight (no matter how he longs to curl in on himself), and his expression is utterly neutral. But of course that's exactly the problem. Mistakes the Lullaby has made a'plenty; more than he's even aware of. But always, always, he knew one thing. That he was for Ronin, and that Ronin was for him.
Though he stands looking toward the Grounds, all he sees before him is the Star turn away and stand with someone else. Two men hurting for two different reasons, and a choice made. Two men with a different take on what happened, but only one was allowed to be angry. Remi was apparently too strong now, to be weak. Possessing of too much violence to be trusted. Though what had caused him to lose Ronin from his corner, he didn't know. So alright then. He'd just be. There was no one who was in his corner without having first been in Ronin's. No one he could go to anyway. One he'd left back asleep in a wagon, and one was..who knew what, within the Grounds.
So Remi stands in the silence, breaking, while appearing whole.
He'd try. He'd gotten rather good at it.
Only when Remi saw Zeph come home to look after Vai—Remi having perched outside as a hawk—did he take flight, and then vanish. His whispered apology as he awoke next to Ianto likely meant nothing to the merchant, so often had he done precisely this sort of thing as of late, and then Remi was up and in the brisk air of the Greatwood once again.
Now he stands on the border between the Woods and the Hollowed Ground, feeling more alone than ever he had before. Remi is a poor approximation of man in anguish: he doesn't cry (no matter how his eyes sting and burn), he stands with his back straight (no matter how he longs to curl in on himself), and his expression is utterly neutral. But of course that's exactly the problem. Mistakes the Lullaby has made a'plenty; more than he's even aware of. But always, always, he knew one thing. That he was for Ronin, and that Ronin was for him.
Though he stands looking toward the Grounds, all he sees before him is the Star turn away and stand with someone else. Two men hurting for two different reasons, and a choice made. Two men with a different take on what happened, but only one was allowed to be angry. Remi was apparently too strong now, to be weak. Possessing of too much violence to be trusted. Though what had caused him to lose Ronin from his corner, he didn't know. So alright then. He'd just be. There was no one who was in his corner without having first been in Ronin's. No one he could go to anyway. One he'd left back asleep in a wagon, and one was..who knew what, within the Grounds.
So Remi stands in the silence, breaking, while appearing whole.
The Lullaby
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.
