if everything we've got is slipping away
The alchemist smiles brightly at Amalia's praise, not because he seeks the recognition, but only because the two men have somehow managed to capture her vision (or Ronin's, rather).
The next task makes Remi softly pause, head inclined to the side, wishing he had brought some of his paints along with him. Then again, this seems to be one of those instances where intentionality is more important that the outcome. Humming softly under his breath—one of the various and wordless travelling songs his mother used to sing to him as a boy—as he gathered a piece of parchment and a stick of charcoal, Remi begins to sketch.
Unlike Ronin, the true artist in the relationship, the alchemist can only recreate what he sees. There is little artistic expression in it, no underlying commentary about the world revealed through nature. There is some skill there though. On the page in quick and efficient strokes and then smudges of charcoal, Remi begins to map out the sky. He leaves bright untouched portions of the parchment free of charcoal and dust to make it seem as though certain stars are gleaming in the darkness. Given the alchemist's current low-contrast vision his work is perhaps not as refined as it might once have been. He takes special care to include Vanya's star, his heart both lifting and wilting as he darkens the area next to it. An area that Ronin's light once filled, but is now dark. With a whimsical and temporary sigh of grief as Remi regards the Vanya-star, Remi looks over his work as he continues to hum.
The next task makes Remi softly pause, head inclined to the side, wishing he had brought some of his paints along with him. Then again, this seems to be one of those instances where intentionality is more important that the outcome. Humming softly under his breath—one of the various and wordless travelling songs his mother used to sing to him as a boy—as he gathered a piece of parchment and a stick of charcoal, Remi begins to sketch.
Unlike Ronin, the true artist in the relationship, the alchemist can only recreate what he sees. There is little artistic expression in it, no underlying commentary about the world revealed through nature. There is some skill there though. On the page in quick and efficient strokes and then smudges of charcoal, Remi begins to map out the sky. He leaves bright untouched portions of the parchment free of charcoal and dust to make it seem as though certain stars are gleaming in the darkness. Given the alchemist's current low-contrast vision his work is perhaps not as refined as it might once have been. He takes special care to include Vanya's star, his heart both lifting and wilting as he darkens the area next to it. An area that Ronin's light once filled, but is now dark. With a whimsical and temporary sigh of grief as Remi regards the Vanya-star, Remi looks over his work as he continues to hum.
i meant what i said when i said until my dying day
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.
