REMI
all the things we said when we were younger
Oh, the alchemist was going to resist.
Having turned at the sound of Loren following him, Remi stumbled backwards knocking over a folding chair until his back was pressed against the workbench running the length of the wall. The alchemist was far, far too gone for this to continue. Too emotionally bankrupt, too raw everywhere it mattered most. And so as Loren dared to worry about him physically, something like laughter bubbled up in the back of the alchemist's throat. Clenching his teeth together the alchemist grabbed the base of his shirt, peeling it off in a swift motion and taking the bandages with it. As impressive as Remi's physique had become, it was the gaping and unhealing wounds that surely would pull the summoner's attention. Phoebe had taken an impressive chunk of flesh out of his bicep, while Ronin had left a myriad of deep and uneven claw marks down his spine and the backs of his arms. None of which were healing, all of which were extremely red and appeared quite painful.
"You said you did not want this Loren, so why are you still here." Not a question. The alchemist stalked forward, eyes narrowed, to be nearly nose-to-nose with the summoner if he should stay still. Tossing his shirt to the ground, the alchemist let his eyes wander from Loren's lower, shaking his head an imperceptible amount. "Maybe you only care about me physically, is that it?" Loren seemed fine wounding the alchemist emotionally, but physical wounds? Oh no. Couldn't have that. There was an edge of mania in Remi's voice now as his gaze and posture seemed to dare the Launceleyn to defend himself. "Maybe I owe you an apology, adding new injuries so soon after you removed the rest of them." The alchemist added with a bitter laugh. If Loren was still close, surely he'd smell the honey amidst the aroma of rotting flesh. "I guess neither of us were done with our scars, mmm?"
Having turned at the sound of Loren following him, Remi stumbled backwards knocking over a folding chair until his back was pressed against the workbench running the length of the wall. The alchemist was far, far too gone for this to continue. Too emotionally bankrupt, too raw everywhere it mattered most. And so as Loren dared to worry about him physically, something like laughter bubbled up in the back of the alchemist's throat. Clenching his teeth together the alchemist grabbed the base of his shirt, peeling it off in a swift motion and taking the bandages with it. As impressive as Remi's physique had become, it was the gaping and unhealing wounds that surely would pull the summoner's attention. Phoebe had taken an impressive chunk of flesh out of his bicep, while Ronin had left a myriad of deep and uneven claw marks down his spine and the backs of his arms. None of which were healing, all of which were extremely red and appeared quite painful.
"You said you did not want this Loren, so why are you still here." Not a question. The alchemist stalked forward, eyes narrowed, to be nearly nose-to-nose with the summoner if he should stay still. Tossing his shirt to the ground, the alchemist let his eyes wander from Loren's lower, shaking his head an imperceptible amount. "Maybe you only care about me physically, is that it?" Loren seemed fine wounding the alchemist emotionally, but physical wounds? Oh no. Couldn't have that. There was an edge of mania in Remi's voice now as his gaze and posture seemed to dare the Launceleyn to defend himself. "Maybe I owe you an apology, adding new injuries so soon after you removed the rest of them." The alchemist added with a bitter laugh. If Loren was still close, surely he'd smell the honey amidst the aroma of rotting flesh. "I guess neither of us were done with our scars, mmm?"
did it bend or did I break?
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.
