our hands they seek the end of afternoons
"I think...not." Sitting up and smoothing an errant curl away from his forehead, the alchemist gave his head a little shake (which loosened the curl right back to where it had been). "I think Ronin and I might ...go away for a while, if we can. Through the portal if that ever becomes an option. Have a proper honey moon and all that." He added with a crooked and boyish smile that fell away to something more sincere.
"The guild took on a life of its own for Ronin, and not an entirely pleasant one. It was where Vanya died." Not that Deimos likely needed reminding, but then again maybe he did. Remi had, after all. "I apologized the same to Ronin. Was eager to rebuild it bigger and better, until he said that part of him was actually glad for it to be gone." Smiling down at the table, Remi scratched at where some ink had set into the wood and shrugged lightly.
"The guild took on a life of its own for Ronin, and not an entirely pleasant one. It was where Vanya died." Not that Deimos likely needed reminding, but then again maybe he did. Remi had, after all. "I apologized the same to Ronin. Was eager to rebuild it bigger and better, until he said that part of him was actually glad for it to be gone." Smiling down at the table, Remi scratched at where some ink had set into the wood and shrugged lightly.
my hands believe and move over you
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.
