back to normal, if it ever was

all our lives i watched you search beneath the fallen skies

Never, seemed like the time frame within which it was reasonable to think Remi would hear from Loren. And so, a handful of days or so after their initial and strange meeting, to find a request for assistance was...well. Pleasantly unexpected. Ronin had urged caution of course, but without his memories it was hard to hold grudges, much less heart ache. To be sure there was still a wound which simultaneously bled and yet did not exist, the pain of which would occasionally pull Remi from his thoughts and demand attention. Only there was none to give, nothing to consider, for there was nothing there. A ghost of a ghost, haunting the shell of a man who no longer existed.

One thing had not changed about the alchemist: still he persisted in dressing in pale cotton shirts perpetually covered in inks and paints. That he filled them out more with muscle didn't detract from the fact he should have been banned from all light colours. Magic made the stains disappear, and so his fashion choices were largely ignored by those around him (save for his wedding day, when Ronin had forcefully designed his outfit).

The manor was...not a place Remi wanted to be, but still he arrived with a boyish smile. Walking up to the door, Remi paused. His eyes sketched the world in various shades of grey, muting the Launceleyn's already dim choice of clothing. When Loren eventually looked up however, it would be with eyes far too piercing blue that seemed to shoot from the darkness with a light all their own.

Blue eyes. Remi thought ruefully. They've always had blue eyes.

Raising a hand, gesture both charming and awkward, Remi moved to the doorframe but didn't cross the threshold. "You summoned me, Duke Launceleyn?" The alchemist quipped, and, with a bow as perfunctory as any he'd given in Northaven, the alchemist bowed mischievously, rising with a playful smile on his lips.