sometimes love is a feather, sometimes a cannon ball
Shock was a wonderful thing. The alchemist felt precious little, save for the overwhelming feeling of relief and love for both dark-haired souls pressed closely to one another. His stars. The brightest things in his life, a constellation above all others. Looking around the room, Remi was spared of the horrific blood-work painting thanks to his eyesight, seeing everything in muted and murky tones, and that was good. Only Ronin and Aoife shone with any colour, and that too was good. Nerves already frayed, held for the moment as the alchemist tried not to lick his lips at the scent of blood; manticore and lion paced at the surface of his consciousness, waiting to be let loose as Ronin had been.
Instead though, Remi merely walked to his husband and placed a hand softly on his shoulder. With a low pulse of magic Ronin's clothes were transformed from blood soaked tatters to something else, clean and free of sin. With his other hand he conjured a blanket of dragons and stars, wrapping it snugly around Aoife as she nestled herself ever more against Ronin's chest.
"We cannot leave it like this." Remi observed in a voice far too still and calm, blood soaked wings relaxing slightly from his back.
Instead though, Remi merely walked to his husband and placed a hand softly on his shoulder. With a low pulse of magic Ronin's clothes were transformed from blood soaked tatters to something else, clean and free of sin. With his other hand he conjured a blanket of dragons and stars, wrapping it snugly around Aoife as she nestled herself ever more against Ronin's chest.
"We cannot leave it like this." Remi observed in a voice far too still and calm, blood soaked wings relaxing slightly from his back.
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.
