BASTIEN
Bastien laughed and shook his head, the sound empty and sad; perhaps Ronin genuinely didn't know, but the idea of the Voice allowing one of her children to willingly shut off entirely for any amount of time seemed bizarre. "Our Goddess is not very likely to let people do anything inefficient. It's one of the places where we disagree." Still, Bastien considered eternal life, the ability to constantly observe the world around him (unless he met an early end like Rexanna, he supposed).
"I see; thank you. You're too kind." Touched that Ronin was making an effort for him, Bastien went to get him some wine and gestured for him to sit, the tendencies of a practised host still innate in him. He was just placing down the glass as Ronin looked about the Sanctuary and he smiled, a huff of nostalgic laughter leaving him. "There was a lot we didn't know then."
Hearing Ronin mention Azrael, he nodded. "Ah, yes - I'll go get them. An introduction will be nice; wait here." He turned to go up the stairs and fetch his child, leaving Ronin sat for the moment in the studio. If he looked around, he'd see a pile of paintings of Rexanna stacked against one wall and the rest of the Sanctuary's carefully curated art dusty and in some places fallen over or wonky in a way it usually never was. Pittore peeked out at Ronin from behind one of the shelves, seemingly scared of the Safrin-touched man.
"I see; thank you. You're too kind." Touched that Ronin was making an effort for him, Bastien went to get him some wine and gestured for him to sit, the tendencies of a practised host still innate in him. He was just placing down the glass as Ronin looked about the Sanctuary and he smiled, a huff of nostalgic laughter leaving him. "There was a lot we didn't know then."
Hearing Ronin mention Azrael, he nodded. "Ah, yes - I'll go get them. An introduction will be nice; wait here." He turned to go up the stairs and fetch his child, leaving Ronin sat for the moment in the studio. If he looked around, he'd see a pile of paintings of Rexanna stacked against one wall and the rest of the Sanctuary's carefully curated art dusty and in some places fallen over or wonky in a way it usually never was. Pittore peeked out at Ronin from behind one of the shelves, seemingly scared of the Safrin-touched man.
You standing beside me
I'm going to push back, push back, push back
With every word and every breath
I'm going to push back, push back, push back
With every word and every breath
