REMI
Remi groans loudly as Ronin meets him the stairs. Letting his eyes trickle up and down his husband's shirtless torso, the Alchemist clicks a note of dissatisfaction under his tongue. "Stop looking so handsome, I'm trying to be upset with you." He scolds, before shoving a box that appears to be filled with modelling clay, broken beads, and various-sized jars of...wax?
"That room of yours is like an obstacle course with a vendetta against anyone one enters." He mutters under his breath, making his way towards the table to deposit the rest of the paraphernalia in his arms. As he sets it down a cloud of glitter billows into the air, coating anything and everything it reaches, which includes the hair on Remi's arms, his eyelashes, and even a few of his teeth.
"I hope you brought another glass." Remi says, of Ronin's wine. "I think this is going to call for more than a shareable amount of wine."
"That room of yours is like an obstacle course with a vendetta against anyone one enters." He mutters under his breath, making his way towards the table to deposit the rest of the paraphernalia in his arms. As he sets it down a cloud of glitter billows into the air, coating anything and everything it reaches, which includes the hair on Remi's arms, his eyelashes, and even a few of his teeth.
"I hope you brought another glass." Remi says, of Ronin's wine. "I think this is going to call for more than a shareable amount of wine."
Who are you? They ask. Death?
Sometimes... I say. But not today
Sometimes... I say. But not today
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.
