like home's not so far away

Let's not get lost in the dark blue
But darling if we do, just find me and I'll find you

Remi cackles, the sound utterly unrepentant and far too boyish for someone who just held up an entire boat. Darting away with a hop-skip through the sand to avoid her retaliatory kick, he tosses a grin over one shoulder, sea-wet curls sticking haphazardly to his forehead. "Conversation via paper projectiles sounds delightful," he calls, winking. "I think I know how to fold them into hearts, actually."

Then, with a tilt of his head and a glint of mischief in his eyes, he adds, "Though I’m fairly certain—even wired the way he gets during Leafchange—that Ronin learned not to go toe-to-toe with you a long time ago." His grin widens, the affection behind it unmistakable. "Smart man, that one. Terrible taste in husbands, as I'm sure you'll agree."

the bastion

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

ISLA

"Into hearts? How whimsical of you," Isla says, brushing a bit of sand off her (very wet) dress and turning her back to the sun so it can help to dry her off with its lingering heat. "I'm not sure how good it will be at being a projectile if it's heart-shaped, but hopefully you can throw well enough that it won't make a difference." And as for Ronin and his whatever lesson he may or may not have learned, the Remedy scoffs out a warm laugh.

"While I don't doubt you, if there's ever a season where I don't want to test that theory, it's Leafchange," she points out with a raise of her eyebrow; poking at Ronin when he's at his most unpredictable sounds like a recipe for disaster, one she doesn't want to stir up if she can help it. "And I would never give such an agreement in earshot of his husband," she adds with a smirk, before glancing back to the Northaven. "At least he'll be none the wiser about your brief renovation."

apres moi le deluge
after me comes the flood

Let's not get lost in the dark blue
But darling if we do, just find me and I'll find you

Remi’s grin is crooked and fond, as if the memory itself tastes like warm sugar and poor decisions. "I spent the better part of my youth trying to woo women while being very gay," he says, letting the irony soak through his tone as he raises a brow. "So yes, I know how to fold a heart."

A soft laugh rumbles up from his chest, his hand dragging back through sun-damp curls before falling to his side again. He follows Isla’s gaze toward the Northaven, his expression settling into something more thoughtful—even as amusement still lingers in the curve of his lips. "Mmh. He might not notice the new board." His brows lift. "But Ronin’s uncannily observant sometimes, so long as he isn't asked to deal with stairs, so, who knows."

He shrugs with all the affection of a man very much in love with someone catastrophically bad at situational awareness at times.

the bastion

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

ISLA

"Come now," Isla chides playfully, arching an eyebrow at Remi, "we both know your problem wasn't wooing them - it was following through with whatever was meant to happen afterwards." Heart shaped letters will only get one so far, alas; at least the Bastion had found his way into the right sort of arms in the end. (Even if those arms belong to a man who is as dumb as he is strangely genius at times). 

Following his gaze to the Northaven, she can almost sense it as he softens internally, Isla drawing up beside him and giving him a gentle nudge. "If you take that basket of goodies inside, odds are high that he'll be distracted by them and won't notice a damn thing," she points out. "In the meantime, I ought to get myself back home, unless you have any further nautical DIY for us to do together?" She grins up at him.

~fin

apres moi le deluge
after me comes the flood