sometimes love is a feather, sometimes a cannon ball
Torn tendons and the warmth of blood was nothing compared to the sweet weight of Aoife in his arms. Her cries were all but stunted now, likely out of horror and shock, and to Remi's chest she affixed herself with a strength the alchemist might have been surprised to feel had his mind been perceiving things rationally. It wasn't though. He heard the sound of bodies striking the wall, the wet and tangy pulse of blood like a sweet aroma in his nose, causing bits of mane to spring up amidst his curls.
Through eyes hooded and crazed he saw Ronin go down on top of Skyler, and it was then he blackened the world out. Wings, large and tawny sprouted from his back and though Aoife's earthen collar fell away to dust, she was captured in a different sense by the warm darkness the alchemist's plumage provided. Her heritage was blood and stars to be sure, but she was old enough now that the hazy images of murder might haunt her for far too many years. Sinking to his knees with Aoife wrapped in his arms, her face tight against her neck and his hands whispering soothing patterns against her back, against the background melody of murder, Remi sang. The words were nonsense but the melody was sweet against his daughter's ear, and while her other father relieved the life from the bastard who had hurt her, the alchemist sang of the stars and vast oceans.
When the world grew silent and the heartbeat beating on his finger was slightly doused, Remi parted feathers speckled horrifically with blood. Turning into the crispness of the revealed air, Aoife cranked her head around and, spying Ronin, immediately held out her hands and bleated heartbreakingly for him.
Through eyes hooded and crazed he saw Ronin go down on top of Skyler, and it was then he blackened the world out. Wings, large and tawny sprouted from his back and though Aoife's earthen collar fell away to dust, she was captured in a different sense by the warm darkness the alchemist's plumage provided. Her heritage was blood and stars to be sure, but she was old enough now that the hazy images of murder might haunt her for far too many years. Sinking to his knees with Aoife wrapped in his arms, her face tight against her neck and his hands whispering soothing patterns against her back, against the background melody of murder, Remi sang. The words were nonsense but the melody was sweet against his daughter's ear, and while her other father relieved the life from the bastard who had hurt her, the alchemist sang of the stars and vast oceans.
When the world grew silent and the heartbeat beating on his finger was slightly doused, Remi parted feathers speckled horrifically with blood. Turning into the crispness of the revealed air, Aoife cranked her head around and, spying Ronin, immediately held out her hands and bleated heartbreakingly for him.
Remi
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.
