the monsters turned out to be just trees

hope keeps us breathing, just to kill us in the end

The muscles in Remi's jaw feathered slightly as he held his tongue. The need to argue and convince the summoner was not a character trait he was used to, nor one that he liked. Especially since he wasn't entirely sure whether it was warranted or not. He was, after all, an 'other' to the man. A special kind of other perhaps, but an other just the same. "You did not piss them off Loren, you broke a direct rule. That is not making a mistake so much as just not listening." The alchemist countered, not wanting to continue this argument but finding himself constantly shocked at just how self-pitying Loren could constantly frame things.

Throwing his hands up Remi could only shake his head with a humble sort of bewilderment. The alchemist too ran his hands through his curls, only it was both of them and his fingers raked against his skin. "There is no pleasing you, is there?" Remi asked rhetorically, hurt and offense at the Launceleyn's words weighing heavily upon him. It was so nice to be told that he didn't count for much. Any list he could offer would simply be met with arguments and so he said nothing. One very obvious someone was standing at Remi's side, and distantly the alchemist wondered if the luxere was taking this argument as personally as he was.