in these trying times we're not trying

maybe i'm a runaway train, maybe i'm a feather in a hurricane

It had been months since Remi had last seen the Nightengale. He'd always assumed that Phoebe was merely keeping her head down and doing Frey's work; perhaps she'd finally been made a demigod and had been swept away. Only now did it occur to him, after all this time, that he owed her much more than mere assumptions of her wellbeing.

Dressed simply in a plain white t-shirt and tan pants, the alchemist pushes open the door to the brothel, looking as though he might be a regular customer given his familiarity with the place. True, he hadn't visited in seasons, but having helped construct and defend this building once upon a time, its layout was still quite firmly rooted in his mind. Not waiting to be assisted by one of the staff, instead, Remi immediately heads towards the ornate banister and up the stairs, the top of which would lead to a door, which in turn would lead to Phoebe's apartments.

Or, would have at one point in time.

THE LULLABY

maybe it's a long gray game, but maybe that's a good thing