he had eyes like rain & hair like waves
& a soul as vast and deep as the ocean
& a soul as vast and deep as the ocean
"Careful, old friend." Remi warns, looking charmingly smug with his dimples and mischievous gaze. Accepting both drink and the pipe (he did notice how Ianto spilled not a drop and adored him a bit for having his priorities in order), the Alchemist nods towards the beach ahead of them to suggest perhaps the fox ought to pay more attention.
"Oh right...Alistair? He...gods..." In that moment Remi remembers Rexanna and Alistair leaping off a bridge together soon after they all arrived here. Shaking his head and placing the pipe in his mouth as he swirled the wine, he merely grinned to himself at the memory. "A fox mm? Oh right, you and Ash...you'd had a ... thing, hadn't you?" Something about Ianto being under her porch, if memory served (which, as the fox pointed out, it didn't always).
As the fox moves closer, the Alchemist can't help but inhale far more sharply than he'd care to admit to. He doesn't move away, though feathers do trail down the back of his neck as he focuses on what's between his friend's figures. Indeed squinting, Remi considers this for a moment (not at all savouring the smell of woodsmoke and juniper his friend carries with him), before standing straighter and scoffing. "Leaving those lights on is a fire hazard you know. If your pocket erupts in flames I will absolutely throw you into the ocean." Putting the glass of wine to his lips to hide any other expressions that threaten to show themselves, Remi takes a large swallow. "Though, I suppose that'll put to bed the question of whether or not you can swim."
"Oh right...Alistair? He...gods..." In that moment Remi remembers Rexanna and Alistair leaping off a bridge together soon after they all arrived here. Shaking his head and placing the pipe in his mouth as he swirled the wine, he merely grinned to himself at the memory. "A fox mm? Oh right, you and Ash...you'd had a ... thing, hadn't you?" Something about Ianto being under her porch, if memory served (which, as the fox pointed out, it didn't always).
As the fox moves closer, the Alchemist can't help but inhale far more sharply than he'd care to admit to. He doesn't move away, though feathers do trail down the back of his neck as he focuses on what's between his friend's figures. Indeed squinting, Remi considers this for a moment (not at all savouring the smell of woodsmoke and juniper his friend carries with him), before standing straighter and scoffing. "Leaving those lights on is a fire hazard you know. If your pocket erupts in flames I will absolutely throw you into the ocean." Putting the glass of wine to his lips to hide any other expressions that threaten to show themselves, Remi takes a large swallow. "Though, I suppose that'll put to bed the question of whether or not you can swim."
THE ALCHEMIST
& i guess i didn't mind d r o w n i n g in him.
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.
