cut up our losses into doable doses
ration our tears and sighs
Hours and hours and hours, miles and miles and miles. Exhaustion draped over the alchemist like a second-skin, and by the time the guildhall came into view, so weary was the manticore's mind he thought perhaps that even if he dropped from so great a height, that Isla could patch him up. Wouldn't it be nice just to fall? To stop everything all at once and simply be?
Animalistic preservation though didn't yield to human guilt or angst, and so unlike the fall from the heavens his husband had once made, Remi's was simply a controlled downward spiral. Just like the rest of his life, as of late.
With hands shaky from exhaustion, lips dry from dehydration and a soul entirely sand-blasted and raw, Remi opened the door to the guild hall and peered into the darkness. It was the middle of the night by now, nearly early morning. The storms weren't close after all, and Remi wanted Skyler's body as far away as possible, as if proximity was the root of his guilt.
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.