[SE] you can't fix stupid

we shall heal our wounds, collect our dead

"So here's the deal," Ronin is saying with a grin as they head out onto the beach from the Northaven, the Knight's arms laden with coils of thin rope. "We do this for an hour, on the way to Haulani, and then when we're done we'll go and get drinks wherever you want." He bounces his eyebrows as if it's something enticing and not a chore he's (almost literally) roped his husband into.

Having handed Remi a sack of stakes, the intention is to cordon off some sections of the beach (the ones notorious for dropping off into very deep water without warning) in readiness for Longnight, which will hopefully reduce the need for Ronin to patrol those areas and stop people from going on drunken midnight swims.

He won't stop them entirely, of course, but the thought is there, and behind the two men his projection is also present, a few poles with red flags propped on one shoulder to make it very obvious where the danger is. Ronin has no doubt that they'll be finding said flags in all sorts of places by the time Longnight is over.

"Does that sound like a good deal?" he asks, all but beaming at Remi in the late afternoon sunshine.

THE WHITE KNIGHT

and continue fighting

He said "I bet you don't remember me"

Remi juggles the stakes with a sulk worthy of someone far too powerful to be this inconvenienced, letting a few extra tentacles sprout from his sides to help redistribute the weight without complaint, though the look he slants at his husband is all venom and theatrical betrayal.

"No," he says flatly. "It sounds like a hate crime." His curls ruffle in the sea breeze, catching the light like golden straw spun by someone mildly irritated. "My plans for this afternoon were a nap, not—" he waves a stake in the air, "—heroic beach signage designed to prevent the idiocy of others. Gods forbid I be allowed a quiet day without saving lives."

The sigh that leaves him is as heavy as it is performative, but his shoulder shrugs a touch more genuinely, and the look he casts at Ronin is warmer now beneath the theatrical scowl. "I suppose," he concedes with a curl of his lip, "if even a few people stay out of the water, that's more time we can spend together during LongNight."

He starts walking with a lazy sway of hips and trailing ropes, casting a dry glance back toward Ronin and his projection as if to say you owe me so much for this. "Has Flora mentioned any changes to security this year?" he asks, tone shifting toward curiosity as they approach the first drop-off zone. "Or is it all the same as usual—'try not to die, try not to kill anyone else, and please don’t break the beach furniture'?"

and I said "only ever other memory"

we shall heal our wounds, collect our dead

"What, the sort of hate crime where you hated it, but that's about it?" Ronin asks, his voice tight with badly concealed laughter as if he's been fed this particular line before. Turning to walk backwards on the sand, he waves a stake right back at Remi as they begin the trek up the beach; thanks to their combined knowledge of Torchline and her shores, he practically knows the problem areas by heart at this point.

"And might I remind you," he adds, "that you had just woken up from a nap when I suggested this." Okay, it wasn't so much a suggestion and more Ronin announcing guess what? and now here they are, but whatever. "Besides, you know how much I love all forms of heroic signage." He flutters his eyelashes as if that will help to convince Remi.

Falling to a halt as they reach the first area, Ronin's projection plants the first flag into the sand and pauses to smek a kiss to Remi's cheek, while the real deal sets out a few stakes and starts to coil the rope around them. "That's the spirit!" he trills of the Bastion's reluctant optimism. "And she hasn't mentioned anything specific to me, but I think based on all the nonsense happening at the docks and down by the Fingers that I should probably double down on patrols out that way..."

THE WHITE KNIGHT

and continue fighting

He said "I bet you don't remember me"

Remi rolls his eyes with all the theatricality of a man who very much intends to keep the moral high ground while standing ankle-deep in warm sand and emotional blackmail. "What other kind of hate crime would I be talking about?" he deadpans, emphatically nodding as if to prove his point before adjusting one of the stakes under his arm with a little flick of a tentacle.

Brows rising in mock challenge, he side-eyes Ronin and mutters, "That’s rich coming from someone who’s slept more than half the season away." Another flick of a tentacle as he sighs, already conceding the point before it’s even been argued. "But fine. Heroic signage. Honestly, at this point it’s practically one of your love languages, so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."

He watches the projection draw closer, the kiss to his cheek soft and familiar, and still not quite the real thing. It was always so strange, knowing that it was Ronin in a way, but staunchly feeling like it wasn't. A tentacle reaches lazily toward it, curling through the projection’s space like he might catch something more tangible, more warm.

With that, Remi drives one of his own stakes into the sand so deep that it would take another demigod to pry it free. "I heard she sent a whole detachment of soldiers to help rebuild Stormbreak," he adds with a small shake of his head, standing and brushing his hands off on his shorts. "Which is great for diplomacy, I suppose. But with all the unrest lately in the Fingers and the docks...might not have been the best season to thin their numbers." His lips purse thoughtfully. "Maybe a few sightings of some tentacled monster in the Fingers will help keep the noise down."

and I said "only ever other memory"

we shall heal our wounds, collect our dead

"Excuse me," Ronin drawls, leaning down to scoop up a particularly slimy bit of seaweed to hurl back at Remi for his audacity. "I didn't see you complaining one bit, given that every time I woke up you seemed to be collapsed all over me like a blanket." Skipping back a few feet as if to try to avoid the inevitable retribution, the Knight at least settles in smug righteousness as the other man accepts these sorts of heroics as part of their life. (Because they are).

Smiling to himself and watching a stray tentacle reach for his projection out of the corner of his eye, the other Ronin in question of course reacts in the same way as the real thing; that is, he theatrically tries to jump out of reach and obnoxiously gathers his bundle of flags to head further down the beach, out of range. "Stormbreak?" That gets his attention, Ronin raising his eyebrows and planting another stake in the ground to coil the rope around.

"I wonder what made her so keen to send forces away from Torchline when things are a bit..." He pulls a face in the general direction of the Fingers. "But anyway - I bet you're right. I can make myself very visible doing patrols out there at the same time if you like. We'll have a hero/monster date out there."

THE WHITE KNIGHT

and continue fighting

He said "I bet you don't remember me"

Remi twists his head indignantly to the side with a noble huff, but the seaweed hits him square in the chest regardless, sliding unceremoniously down his shirt with a moist plop. For a long, withering moment he just stares down at it. "I was Bastioning, thank you very much," he sniffs, brushing it off with exaggerated precision. "Blanket deployment was purely a safety measure to ensure my very vulnerable, definitely-not-overpowered husband didn’t roll off the bed or get too cold."

A nearby tentacle lifts ominously, waving after Ronin’s projection like it’s considering exactly how far it would need to reach to swat the flags right out of its smug, illusionary hands. "Mmm. Sending soldiers off with Hadama stepping down seems like a poor call," Remi murmurs, though he trails off, eyes sliding sidelong toward Ronin with a faintly wry expression. Brows lifted, he adds, "But I certainly won’t be the one to tell Flora that."

Still, the idea of a Hero/Monster date has Remi flashing a toothy, boyish grin. "I’d like that," he says, driving another stake deep into the sand like he’s challenging the ocean to argue about it. "So long as you’re not going to be the kind of hero who lops off the monster’s head and brings it back to some damsel in a tower for a kiss." He pauses, then adds slyly, "Unless I also get to play the damsel."

and I said "only ever other memory"

we shall heal our wounds, collect our dead

Ronin's mouth opens for the sort of argumentative response that's all warmth and affection, but he really doesn't have an answer for Remi's logic. "Bastioning," he repeats quietly, not bothering to hide the smile spreading across his face. "Well, then. I can only apologise for being so tired this season, and eternally grateful for you being my erstwhile protector while I nap." Sketching a little bow for Remi's trouble, Ronin finally leans down to tie off and cut the rope for this section of the beach.

"It still feels strange to be without Hadama," he admits, following after his projection as it plants another flag along the next bit of shoreline that is likely to cause trouble to any drunken Longnight wanderers. "And are you suggesting that I should be the one to tell her? Because I don't think that will go down too well either."

Grinning and planting another stake in the ground, it's far too easy to get carried away with their date idea, and Ronin grins back at his husband from the beach where he's dropped to kneel down. "I would expect nothing less than for you to play both monster and damsel," he says. "You know how much I like to sweep you off your feet."

THE WHITE KNIGHT

and continue fighting

He said "I bet you don't remember me"

Remi snorts and straightens with the kind of smug nod that’s become second nature over the years, stakes tucked under one arm as if he’s personally received a medal for Best Nap Security. "You’re very welcome for my service," he says, solemn as a stormcloud and twice as dramatic, though the grin curling at the corner of his mouth is unmistakably fond.

But at the mention of Hadama, some of the sunlit humour dims. Remi nods, his jaw working slightly as he frowns out at the shimmering ocean. "I don’t not trust Flora on her own," he begins carefully, driving a stake far too deep into the sand as if to underscore his unease."But she and Hadama balanced each other out. He was calm. Steady. Unimpressed by theatrics." The words are thoughtful, but uncertainty floods through the bond between them; sharp, like a salt-edged wave against bare skin. "Without him..." He trails off, pulling a face and shrugging one shoulder. "Maybe we send a gift basket, and an anonymous letter."

The fondness returns as Ronin grins from where he kneels in the sand, and Remi gasps with theatrical adoration, as if the very suggestion of being swept off his feet has done him in. "I do like seeing you play the hero," he muses, gaze flicking over his husband with obvious appreciation before he turns back to his work, anchoring another stake. "But if we’re doing this, you might have to pull your punches. Otherwise our little roleplay date might be over before it starts given how much faster you are than I am these days." A sly grin follows. "And you know how I like to take my time."

and I said "only ever other memory"

we shall heal our wounds, collect our dead

Pulling a face that suggests Remi is walking on thin ice even hinting at a suggestion like that in this region, Ronin of course doesn't disagree one bit, and as he places another stake and begins to loop the rope around them, he lets out a deep sigh from his spot crouched in the sand. "Or, y'know..." His tone is thoughtful but heavy, the sort of calm consideration before a storm they may or may not be ready for, "we could bring a gift basket and not be anonymous."

Holding up a hand as if to say hear me out, Ronin ties off and cuts the rope and straightens up. "Maybe we can just offer to help," he says. "She might be having a great time leading alone, you know? But just in case she isn't, it's not like we haven't led a region before ourselves. Maybe we can help her out." He doesn't say on a council because even the word makes him want to wrinkle his nose, but that's exactly what he means.

Sighing out the stress of that idea and what it might mean for their future, Ronin instead steps in beside Remi to slip an arm around his waist as they walk along the shoreline to where his projection has placed the next flag. "As long as you pull yours as well. I'm not as sturdy as I used to be, you know. I think I got drunk the other night." He grins.

THE WHITE KNIGHT

and continue fighting

He said "I bet you don't remember me"

Remi wrinkles his nose at the idea—not out of disagreement—but precisely because Ronin’s suggestion lands too neatly against the part of him that has already been worrying about exactly that. "I hope you don’t expect me to Bastion against Flora," he mutters, voice low as he kicks half-heartedly at a curl of driftwood. "I don’t think I’ll ever be strong enough to stand against her anger, no matter the monsters I've faced."

The admission is soft but unflinching, as honest as the tide. Still, he sighs and nods, because of course Ronin’s right. Again. "We could offer to help," he agrees, his tone cautious but genuine. "I'm sure we can fit a few extra patrols into our busy nap schedule." His lips curve wryly.

When Ronin sidles in and an arm wraps around his waist, Remi melts into the touch instinctively, looping his own arm around in return. The wicked glint in his eye matches the growing smile across his face. "Oh, you absolutely got drunk," he confirms with no sympathy at all. "It was wonderful. You haven’t slurred your words like that in years." He leans in, brushing a kiss just behind Ronin’s ear. "I almost took advantage of you, you know," he whispers, voice gone mockingly scandalous.

and I said "only ever other memory"

we shall heal our wounds, collect our dead

"I only expect you to tend to my injuries - whether they're to my body or my ego - when we get home from it," Ronin says with a smile that wants to be a lot more easygoing than it is. Settling comfortably into stride with his husband, he turns to leave a warm kiss against Remi's cheek as they both circle - and then finally land upon - the same agreement regarding Flora. "And if she doesn't want our help and has it all entirely in hand, more the better. At least we offered." He shrugs.

As for his definite inebriation, Ronin doesn't even bother to try and defend himself, his laughter boyish and perhaps just a touch embarrassed as he accepts Remi's affections and teasing both. "Only almost? I must have lost my touch." Winking, he gives the other man a brief squeeze before reluctantly letting him go to set more stakes down into the sand. "I think this is the last really steep part," he says, referring to the way the beach simply drops off a few feet out into the ocean shallows.

THE WHITE KNIGHT

and continue fighting

He said "I bet you don't remember me"

Remi raises his eyebrows and tacks on, with exaggerated solemnity, "Or both," as if the dual nature of Ronin’s injuries was something to be expected. He exhales and nods, gaze tipped down toward the sand. "I hope that’ll be the case," he murmurs, even if he didn't really believe it. There’s no venom in the doubt, just the ache of having lived too long and seen too much to trust in good outcomes without a little insurance, especially where Flora was concerned.

Still, the next grin that spreads across his face is far more wolfish than wistful. "Turns out," he says in a low, dangerous sort of purr, "it’s hard to take advantage of someone who’s very willing." His hand slips from around Ronin’s waist, fingers sliding into the Knight’s back pocket with exaggerated casualness. He gives a firm, appreciative squeeze.

That moment of mischief lingers as he moves off to help with the final section, his expression settling somewhere between thoughtful and practical as he glances toward the ocean’s sudden drop. "Maybe closer to LongNight," he suggests, twisting another stake deep into the sand with ease, "we could tie some floaties to the outer posts? Let them drift into the water a little, just in case anyone does go out that far, it would give them something to grab onto." He trails off, head tilting. "Or would that just encourage them to go into the deep water, do you think?"

and I said "only ever other memory"

we shall heal our wounds, collect our dead

Or both. Ronin doesn't feel the need to agree out loud - the scrunch of his nose says it all anyway, the Knight mentally preparing himself for that conversation with Flora. (And all of the things he'll be putting in the gift basket he'll still absolutely be taking with him to Wildering House).

Much preferring to think of his drunken antics and their insatiable appetites for one another, Ronin dismisses his projection now that its flag holding duties are complete and flashes a crooked smile in his husband's direction. "I have no idea what you could be talking about," he says, planting one last stake and winding the rope around it.

As he ties it off, he follows Remi's gaze out to the deeper water, furrowing his brow. "It's a good idea, but... yeah, that's the worry," he says as he rises back to his feet. "Because it'll be Longnight we'd have to find some way to light them up, in case they are needed. But again... that might make them look like fun to be had. You know you and I would be out there in an instant if we'd seen something like that."

THE WHITE KNIGHT

and continue fighting

He said "I bet you don't remember me"

Remi does one of those frown-smiles that curves too knowingly to be innocent and too fond to be judgmental, eyes dragging slowly over to Ronin with an expression that says sure you don't. He doesn’t press it further, because really, why spoil the pleasure of watching his husband pretend he’s never been scandalous in his life?

The wind curls a little stronger down the shoreline, and Remi exhales a half-frustrated breath, his curls tousled enough to make him look as weary as he feels. "Yeah," he agrees, tone low as he considers the water and all the unpredictable things it might hold. But then, as always, Ronin is right. "You're right,"” he mutters with a snort and a shrug, humour flickering through his expression despite the weight of it all. "You and I would have been in those waves before you could say ‘damsel in distress’."

He goes quiet for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly in thought, then glances sideways, voice softer. "I wonder if Mort would ever let me have a duplicate or two," he muses aloud, half-serious, half-dreaming. His hands busy themselves with the last of the rope as he speaks. "Not like yours, but just something tethered to me. I could situate them in different places and teleport to them if I was needed."

and I said "only ever other memory"