you come to me, wild and wired

but baby i've been here before; i've seen this room and i've walked this floor

"Yes. " Remi agreed instantly. "Dying doesn't mean I did all that I could. I could have done more." This latter sentiment was softer-said, more to himself than the rags before him. It was a truth he'd carry with him heavily to his grave.

Remi nodded. He did know. The world of exceptions was for the Ronin's and Amalia's of the world. Life wasn't fair or easy, as Isla had just pointed out. Dead for him would be death. "I suppose so. I may not want to be part of this world anymore, but nor do I want to be without him. I think that's the only thing I'm really sure of."

Somewhere far away a monochromatic wave crested and Remi fancied he could feel the pull of it. "I don't doubt it, though once I might have disagreed with you." Turning his gaze back, he smirked at the porcelain mask. "Though I can't say it's all that surprising to hear you say it."

Ludo "And you always can do more, so long as you are alive," Ludo said. It drifted once more to perch upon the statue of the aquatic man, and the long legs it sometimes displayed beneath the rags began to swing jovially in the air. "A strange sentiment for Mort's herald, but alas, we have to work with Safrin when we must." Sounding amused, it turned its gaze back out towards the sea alongside Remi's. Shrugging, it flapped out a ragged tendril to somehow tickle against Remi's ear. "That is preferable to having nothing that you are sure about." And then there it was - the unexpected agreement, the flexibility that grief and death and change brought with it. "You would have. I do not think you were ready for such a truth back then." The mask turned to regard the alchemist. "And what makes you say that?"

but baby i've been here before; i've seen this room and i've walked this floor

"Dead is dead though, even if I live." Remi countered. There were some things that once passed, couldn't be fixed no matter how much life the alchemist endured.

Watching the swinging legs at any other time might have lead to questions, but for now, Remi simply turned his gaze up to the unseen eyes presumably hidden behind the mask somewhere. "You might. I hope not to." This was said through near-clenched teeth. Ronin's allegiance and forced? alliance to Safrin more or less sealed the alchemist's fate in this regard. He'd not escape Safrin's aura so long as he and Ronin were alive.

Tilting his ear into the touches as one instinctively does, his shoulder raising as if to capture Ludo's rag, the alchemist hummed a note of agreement. "I was ready for little." He thought back to the image of his mother, of his father clawing at her and drowning her. If shown to him now, he might watch with a mere frown. Dead is dead after all. She could not die twice.

"Well...presumably you believe there is something redeeming or right about what it is that you do and how you do it. If not, why wax poetic with me about goodness and how to live, why let me chose to stay here rather than go with you, if not for reasons of 'time and place', or cosmic need." Remi shrugged, not having the language for this conversation given his present company. It should have been unnerving not to have eyes to focus on, but Remi found that it didn't bother him as he gazed up at Ludo.

Ludo ”And yet,” Ludo said, purposely vague. And yet Delphia existed, able to speak with spirits beyond. And yet Jigano and Amalia could shepherd souls. And yet there were days, like the Festival of Lights, when all those who had passed might see their friends and family again. And yet, and yet, and yet. Ludo tittered at the mere idea that Remi could turn his back on Safrin - on any of the gods, as had been proven even in the past few weeks through their stay in Torchline. ”You were. And now I would venture that you are ready for almost anything.” It waggled the rag, trapped momentarily between Remi’s neck and shoulder, tugging it away in amusement. ”What I think is irrelevant. This was about you all along. I merely offered a gift in exchange for your work at LongNight. Your answer is more telling than any of your bluster or intimidation. You want to live. You’re just bad at it.”

but baby i've been here before; i've seen this room and i've walked this floor

Hope was not a luxury to be avoided, but a wildly infectious disease. Remi had been cured of it now, and he'd not risk infection simply to satisfy his curiosity, so he did not ask the god to elaborate on its vagueness.

"I'm not sure there's much left I've not done." Still, he raised a brow as Ludo slipped away, a lingering smirk on his lips. "Although that does sound quite leading." He added wondering if the god's coyness was a good sign or a very, very bad one.

"I never professed to be any good at it." He said with a bit of a shrug. "Have done the wrong things for the right reasons, the right things for the wrong ones." Remi gestured vaguely with a hand. "Now it's just..doing things. It's all without purpose now."

Ludo Ludo’s mask would seem to smirk as well, the deity a mix of mercurial soul guardian and amused child. ”And that was a leading answer,” it countered. Whatever it might be planning, whatever it had in stock for Remi, he would not find out today. The world around them would slowly start to punctuate once again with colour, as if to signal the passing threat. ”You ought to be careful,” it did caution, fluttering down from the statue once more to drape itself about Remi’s shoulders. Ah, like old times. ”If it’s a purpose you’re after, I’ll give you one.” Should it have sounded like a threat? Maybe. ”For now I would suggest using your vast strength and endless time to make a grave marker for your daughter. You do her a savage disrespect by trying to erase her existence. As one who knows well the loss of memory, I expected more. You are not the only man in Caido wishing to mourn her.”

but baby i've been here before; i've seen this room and i've walked this floor

Remi merely lifted a brow at this. So they were both playing their cards close to their chest then. Silly of Remi to have brought along checkers, apparently.

"Around you no amount of carefulness ever seems to matter." Mostly because the alchemist seemingly couldn't help himself to do anything other than stick his foot in his mouth when the god was about. Curses, lost memories..it was all a bit par for the course now.

Argument bubbled up on Remi's lips, his mind immediately ignoring the criticism with want only to tell Ludo that it had been dealt with. Its final remark however was like a slap, and beneath the scarf-like weight of the god, Remi's shoulders tensed. "...Ronin?.." It had never occurred to him, selfish and wild as he now conducted himself, that his partner hadn't been on the same page. That sinking Aoife's memory down where it could never be found as soon as her body was gone, wasn't what Ronin had wanted.

Had it merely been what he'd agreed to?

"I have to go." Maybe you weren't meant to simply cut conversations with gods short, but time seemed to suddenly be of the essence.

Ludo ”Yes,” Ludo agreed, ”and you would do well to remember it.” The strong could not outrun death, and nor could the clever. And as realisation seemed to dawn upon the alchemist that the deity had draped itself around, Ludo would appear to smile again, though this time Remi would not see it. ”I think you do, yes. We shall speak again soon.” It was phrased as a promise rather than a suggestion, and Remi would feel Ludo dissolve away to nothing around him. He would be left only with calm sands and lapping waves, all in the glorious colours of Torchline. ~FIN