& doesn't the white page seem unfinished
without the dark stain of alphabets?
without the dark stain of alphabets?
Remi has no idea how to answer Finn's question, and so he smiles at the sheen on his empty plate. "I do not remember meeting you, so I cannot say." He replies at last, wondering if the ash would turn to quicksand beneath his feet if he tried to turn and leave. Raising his eyes now, bewildered and incredulous, Remi's eyebrows pinch together as he stares into his twin's face, trying to see through the deception. "The one I promised you. I brought it to you. In the room with the wooden floors and the fireplace." He explains. "The dreamcatcher that keeps me from your dreams."
What happens next has Remi vibrating with restraint and anticipation in his seat. Much as he tries to forbid himself from moving, he can't quite help the minuscule twitches of his lips, the tensing of the skin around his eyes, or the way his muscles flex and shiver with adrenaline. The smell of meat dilates his pupils and wets his tongue while the sight of blood has heat flushing between his legs. Obediently, perhaps, Remi fixes his gaze on his plate only to find the sterile whiteness rudely but perfectly disturbed.
Breathing in shallow pants through his nose, one of Remi's hands reaches tentatively towards his fork, before settling on the napkin instead. "It would be rude to start without you." With his other hand, suddenly incorporeal, Remi reaches inside of himself and begins to search. It takes a moment before he finds what he's looking for, and with the sound of tearing fabric, the Lullaby presents his counterpart with his liver. "To process the poison."
What happens next has Remi vibrating with restraint and anticipation in his seat. Much as he tries to forbid himself from moving, he can't quite help the minuscule twitches of his lips, the tensing of the skin around his eyes, or the way his muscles flex and shiver with adrenaline. The smell of meat dilates his pupils and wets his tongue while the sight of blood has heat flushing between his legs. Obediently, perhaps, Remi fixes his gaze on his plate only to find the sterile whiteness rudely but perfectly disturbed.
Breathing in shallow pants through his nose, one of Remi's hands reaches tentatively towards his fork, before settling on the napkin instead. "It would be rude to start without you." With his other hand, suddenly incorporeal, Remi reaches inside of himself and begins to search. It takes a moment before he finds what he's looking for, and with the sound of tearing fabric, the Lullaby presents his counterpart with his liver. "To process the poison."
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.
