"For your death, idiota." Bastien laughed, his voice fond despite the insult. He could hardly fault Ronin, he had struggled to keep track of his own temporary death too.
He had not expected to get a review from the man himself but welcomed Ronin's eyes on the pieces as he held up the art, glad to see both his joy and his solemn appreciation of Vanya's portrait, before he broke out into another smile. For that was the joy of being an artist, the ability to stir up whatever emotions he chose in his audience, to make them discover feelings inside themselves through his magic with sorrow and happiness.
"Remi and I were thinking...above the fireplace. For both of them. And...I was going to wait, but since her father is here: would you care for one of little Aoife? Though I would need her to sit still for a while, which I understand can be difficult for children..." He trailed off, suddenly realising once again he was talking with someone he had assumed dead only minutes ago.
"No, wait. I must know how you have accomplished this new life first."
Bastien
I'm every cliche, but I simply do it best
