sometimes love is all that can save us, sometimes love can kill a man
The alchemist wanted very badly to scrub at his eyes, to find somewhere warm and cover himself with an endless number of blankets, rather than shivering in the snow and arguing with someone who'd sneered at him moments ago. He didn't need his words twisted, didn't need to be lectured and told endlessly how and why what he was was wrong. He was trying to do all that Loren had asked of him, walking a fine balance and trying not to ruin what was already in tatters, and finding himself apparently doing a poor job of it. But he endured. It might be their last conversation after all.
And so he merely nodded, and then shrugged at the comment about the medical staff. He didn't know where anyone was staying, not really. All he knew is that those seeking safety-full-stop, were to be at the Temple.
"Sam will not drink from you." Remi said, feeling sure enough about that. Sam drank from those he loved, and, in a pinch, usually just from Remi. Maybe that was hubris, he didn't know. "But I can ask him." No doubt the Launceleyn, in this current state, would do nothing but terrify him.
"Wrong? No..nothing." Remi said, the words sounding awkward between how dry his mouth had gone and how loud the ringing in his ears suddenly was. Swallowing hard, he ran a hand through his curls, subtly dragging his claws through them as if the pain might snap his mind back into focus and out of the dreary sort of fog that had fallen over him at the thought of Loren deliriously intertwined in the throws of ascended pleasure.
And so he merely nodded, and then shrugged at the comment about the medical staff. He didn't know where anyone was staying, not really. All he knew is that those seeking safety-full-stop, were to be at the Temple.
"Sam will not drink from you." Remi said, feeling sure enough about that. Sam drank from those he loved, and, in a pinch, usually just from Remi. Maybe that was hubris, he didn't know. "But I can ask him." No doubt the Launceleyn, in this current state, would do nothing but terrify him.
"Wrong? No..nothing." Remi said, the words sounding awkward between how dry his mouth had gone and how loud the ringing in his ears suddenly was. Swallowing hard, he ran a hand through his curls, subtly dragging his claws through them as if the pain might snap his mind back into focus and out of the dreary sort of fog that had fallen over him at the thought of Loren deliriously intertwined in the throws of ascended pleasure.
sometimes love is a soft touch, or a line drawn in the sand
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.
