bring back the water
"Did it." Remi replied, his tone low if only because his teeth were clenched together and wanting very badly to grow into points. Sam's teeth might be sharp, but the lion inside of him—nay, the manticore—thoughts perhaps his bite might be a good deal stronger. "The barrier came down. The Fae did not do this to themselves, nor the gods." Remi said back tersely. "They said it started with us and the gods think it started with the Voice. Which is why it seems so odd she suddenly asked you to explore."
Whatever sympathy once grew so rampantly within the alchemist had been left to wither and die, gone too long without tending to be of any use now. "You've all?" He repeated incredulously, shaking his head. "This is me Sam. Just me." Glancing around the empty street as if to prove his point, the alchemist took a step back as thick tears formed in his eyes.
"I told you I did not blame you!" Remi roared suddenly, claws appearing at the end of his hands as they clenched against his fleshy palm, drawing warm streaks of blood. The alchemist hardly felt it, didn't hear it or see it as the droplets fell to the cobblestones, so honed was his hurt and worry and anger. "Ronin is not hurt." The alchemist spat, the green in his eyes shifting to a predatory gold. "Ronin is dying." He continued in a hiss, claws dragging further into his own skin.
"I did come to you as a friend. As a—" Remi swallowed uneasily. "I asked you. And all I got in return was excuses. You are not even willing to consider this. If I am wrong, so be it. But I need to know. And you turning this into some sort of crusade against the Ascendeds is ridiculous."
Whatever sympathy once grew so rampantly within the alchemist had been left to wither and die, gone too long without tending to be of any use now. "You've all?" He repeated incredulously, shaking his head. "This is me Sam. Just me." Glancing around the empty street as if to prove his point, the alchemist took a step back as thick tears formed in his eyes.
"I told you I did not blame you!" Remi roared suddenly, claws appearing at the end of his hands as they clenched against his fleshy palm, drawing warm streaks of blood. The alchemist hardly felt it, didn't hear it or see it as the droplets fell to the cobblestones, so honed was his hurt and worry and anger. "Ronin is not hurt." The alchemist spat, the green in his eyes shifting to a predatory gold. "Ronin is dying." He continued in a hiss, claws dragging further into his own skin.
"I did come to you as a friend. As a—" Remi swallowed uneasily. "I asked you. And all I got in return was excuses. You are not even willing to consider this. If I am wrong, so be it. But I need to know. And you turning this into some sort of crusade against the Ascendeds is ridiculous."
let your ships roll in
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.
