walked out this morning and i wrote down this song.
i just can't remember who to send it to
i just can't remember who to send it to
There were some sights you were never ready for; some ghosts, too. Perhaps especially ghosts.
The one that wove her way through the crowd was one such ghost. Despite the small hands clutching at hers, Remi thought he could still see in her the girl who he'd gone for picnics with. Who he'd warned about the roughness of her wedding night. Who he'd nearly been thrown in jail over, for having his head in her lap when her husband came home. Then again perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps she was just a ghost of a girl he'd once known so well.
And perhaps that was for the best.
Perhaps it wasn't even her at all...
...which only made it impossible not to find out for sure. And so, unlike the trio, Remi wove his way through the throng of shoppers until he was near enough to hear her voice. A voice which had scolded him, had toyed with him, had adored him. A voice he hadn't heard in years, and yet here she was.
"You shouldn't be here." Remi's accent had grown all the thicker during his time in Caido, no longer needing to smooth it out for the bluebloods of Northaven. But that wasn't he only change. Gone was the boyish face that always had a smile, replaced with the stern expression of a man who has seen too much. There is significant scar tissue at the base of his throat and beneath the plain white shirt he wears. His hair is still a mess of disheveled curls, though now sea-washed and wind-dried, they don't look quite so soft. Physically changed as well, much stronger and bulkier than ever before, people in the market actually move around him, many having heard stories of his and Ronin's exploits and wanting nothing to do with the reckless man they've come to know.
The one that wove her way through the crowd was one such ghost. Despite the small hands clutching at hers, Remi thought he could still see in her the girl who he'd gone for picnics with. Who he'd warned about the roughness of her wedding night. Who he'd nearly been thrown in jail over, for having his head in her lap when her husband came home. Then again perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps she was just a ghost of a girl he'd once known so well.
And perhaps that was for the best.
Perhaps it wasn't even her at all...
...which only made it impossible not to find out for sure. And so, unlike the trio, Remi wove his way through the throng of shoppers until he was near enough to hear her voice. A voice which had scolded him, had toyed with him, had adored him. A voice he hadn't heard in years, and yet here she was.
"You shouldn't be here." Remi's accent had grown all the thicker during his time in Caido, no longer needing to smooth it out for the bluebloods of Northaven. But that wasn't he only change. Gone was the boyish face that always had a smile, replaced with the stern expression of a man who has seen too much. There is significant scar tissue at the base of his throat and beneath the plain white shirt he wears. His hair is still a mess of disheveled curls, though now sea-washed and wind-dried, they don't look quite so soft. Physically changed as well, much stronger and bulkier than ever before, people in the market actually move around him, many having heard stories of his and Ronin's exploits and wanting nothing to do with the reckless man they've come to know.
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.
