REMI
The choked way that the Alchemist can't form the words is as much of a And I, for you, as had he spoken them out loud. As Ronin pulls back, the moment is made entirely them by the glitter on the Star's lips: grief, and love, and a bit of inappropriate amusement thrown in for good measure.
"Oh are you." Remi grunts, side-eyeing the triangles with obvious contempt. "Arts and crafts are one thing, but you can't rush genius, Ronin." The Alchemist reminds the Star with a haughty raise of his chin. Swiping at the tears still moistening his eyelashes (and giving himself a healthy amount of glitter in their place), Remi looks at the empty table with a thoughtful expression.
His organic magic isn't what it once was. He won't be able to make the buds dance or smile, but at least he can make the things imagined in his mind. Dusky-blue flowers that looked like stars suddenly appeared, as did a fistful of Belladonna: the two flowers they'd picked to represent each other on their wedding day. Between them a vibrant shock of orange appeared—a bird of paradise for Vanya. Sitting back, smug at his choices but still tempered by the drawing of Aoife he'd leaned up to watch over them as they worked, Remi glances over at Ronin to see if he's picked up on the imagery.
"Oh are you." Remi grunts, side-eyeing the triangles with obvious contempt. "Arts and crafts are one thing, but you can't rush genius, Ronin." The Alchemist reminds the Star with a haughty raise of his chin. Swiping at the tears still moistening his eyelashes (and giving himself a healthy amount of glitter in their place), Remi looks at the empty table with a thoughtful expression.
His organic magic isn't what it once was. He won't be able to make the buds dance or smile, but at least he can make the things imagined in his mind. Dusky-blue flowers that looked like stars suddenly appeared, as did a fistful of Belladonna: the two flowers they'd picked to represent each other on their wedding day. Between them a vibrant shock of orange appeared—a bird of paradise for Vanya. Sitting back, smug at his choices but still tempered by the drawing of Aoife he'd leaned up to watch over them as they worked, Remi glances over at Ronin to see if he's picked up on the imagery.
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.
