aúsi, nos paramas // & still we stand
Through the bond the alchemist bristles like a startled animal. Recognition of his name dawns slowly and though he doesn't come back to Amalia, his shoulders relax a fraction.
"Beg?" Remi said flatly, nostrils flaring. "Do you normally beg with a blade against the throat, Roana?" From what Amalia has told him of the duality of purpose that apparently the soldier and the baker share, the alchemist might have been inclined to weigh in. But just now his only focus was for those he cared for.
"To tell you how wrong? Oh no. You come with orders from Ludo, so I doubt it would do any good." The alchemist's voice was entirely without emotion, for all the emotion he had to give was unfettered rage, and he'd promised himself that he'd hold that back. Stepping forwards and peering down at Roana, sea-glass eyes fracturing further as pale predatory amber bled into his gaze, Remi waiting until his upper lip ceased its snarling before continuing. "I am here to tell you that the ascended will not be harmed. Not by you, nor anyone." It was a statement that the alchemist never before thought he'd make, nor anything close to. He did not threaten, did not insert himself into these sorts of conflicts. Not like this.
But the world was broken, and with it had broken the alchemist's optimism and unassailable moral compass. Whether or not Roana would find herself as the first to witness the alchemist's strength in its raw and unrestrained potential was up to her.
"Beg?" Remi said flatly, nostrils flaring. "Do you normally beg with a blade against the throat, Roana?" From what Amalia has told him of the duality of purpose that apparently the soldier and the baker share, the alchemist might have been inclined to weigh in. But just now his only focus was for those he cared for.
"To tell you how wrong? Oh no. You come with orders from Ludo, so I doubt it would do any good." The alchemist's voice was entirely without emotion, for all the emotion he had to give was unfettered rage, and he'd promised himself that he'd hold that back. Stepping forwards and peering down at Roana, sea-glass eyes fracturing further as pale predatory amber bled into his gaze, Remi waiting until his upper lip ceased its snarling before continuing. "I am here to tell you that the ascended will not be harmed. Not by you, nor anyone." It was a statement that the alchemist never before thought he'd make, nor anything close to. He did not threaten, did not insert himself into these sorts of conflicts. Not like this.
But the world was broken, and with it had broken the alchemist's optimism and unassailable moral compass. Whether or not Roana would find herself as the first to witness the alchemist's strength in its raw and unrestrained potential was up to her.
THE
ALCHEMIST
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.
