bound to be a while
Remi Taliesin
the Bastion


Age: 31 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 15 - Strg: 68 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 100 - Luck: 93 - Int: 3
ORIA - Mythical - Spriggan (Ghost)
Played by: Odd Offline
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Posts: 10,723 | Total: 16,193
MP: 3059
#1
wild in the silence; no way to make it right
The calls come heedless of where he is or what he's doing. Offering a wordless explanation to Ronin—it being nothing more than the squeeze of his hand and a pulse of remorse and duty transferred through their bond—and then the alchemist is flying on near-silent wings away from the Spire and toward the fields. Like an internal compass set on pure intuition, the Lullaby simply goes where the cold press of obligation takes him.

Landing in the field, a place which had once been so familiar to him, the Lullaby's soft green eyes scan the tall grasses and the treeline for a sign of who it might be that he's here for. There is an anticipation deep within his bones, a stirring of adrenaline that borders nearly on < I>delight it's so strong and bright in his gut. So, with his winds still outspread like some sun-stroked angel, Remi tilts his head as he listens, and feels, and waits.
THE ALCHEMIST
i’ve been chasin the storm of a lovesick lonely lie
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.


Age: 7 | Height: | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#2
A boy, likely all of seven, and doomed to not see eight, had managed to curl himself against a boulder. This hadn't been the first time he'd been forced to sit, lurch over, or bend until he thought he'd break - some illness, some disease riddling and rattling through his lungs, seeping and seething within the organs. A few wracking coughs pierced the air, and though he'd tried to tuck the expulsion of air into his elbow, the bellows could still be heard. So accustomed to it, he wasn't even bothered by the line of blood left from his mouth to his skin, taking a rag, a cloth, from his pocket, already covered in previous stains from similar circumstances and instances.

But it had never hurt this bad before.

He leaned his head against a rock, staring up at the sky, incapable of chasing and clambering after his friends. He likely should've been in bed, but his mother had been preoccupied by the other children, and the Infirmary had given him a little medicine some days before, but it didn't seem to take, to hold, to stave off anything. Maybe he could go get some more? But the thought of moving was enough to leave him on the ground, and another similar round of coughs ricocheted from his space.
Remi Taliesin
the Bastion


Age: 31 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 15 - Strg: 68 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 100 - Luck: 93 - Int: 3
ORIA - Mythical - Spriggan (Ghost)
Played by: Odd Offline
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Posts: 10,723 | Total: 16,193
MP: 3059
#3
wild in the silence; no way to make it right
A percussive sort of sound rings out through the grasses, making the alchemist's heart sink. It isn't the thought of taking a life that causes his stomach to swirl and tangle in tight knots, it's that he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that it's a child's life that he's here for. And with Mateo no longer just a dream, it's all the more difficult for the alchemist to abide this sort of work; not that there's an alternative.

"Hello?" Remi calls out in a sweet voice, the sort he might use on a wailing Mateo when he's overly tired. Following the direction from which he thought he heard the cough, the Lullaby spies a copse of boulders that looks just like the sort of place a child might hide. Keeping his wings out, though tucking them in slightly, Remi takes a steadying breath as he peers behind one of the boulders. "If this is a game of hide and seek, I should think you're doing extremely well."
THE ALCHEMIST
i’ve been chasin the storm of a lovesick lonely lie
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.


Age: 7 | Height: | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: - Strg: - Dext: - Endr: - Luck: - Int:
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#4
A voice rang out, sweet, saccharine, causing the youth to stir, a head struggling to pop up from behind the rock. Truly, it ended up being more of a blonde set of curls and a pair of haggard, tired-looking eyes, peering over the boulder that would stand the test of time – something he was running out of.

Wings? A man with wings?

Had he heard of these before? Something like angels? Seraphs? Or was he attuned? He couldn’t recall – wasn’t certain if that had been in stories from here, or legends told by some Outlanders wandering down streets. The invitation was already there though, the stranger enticing him into some semblance and notion of hide and seek. Is that what he’d been doing?

So he then ducked lower, believing that could do it. Maybe the man hadn’t seen him. Maybe he’d win.

Except he coughed again.
Remi Taliesin
the Bastion


Age: 31 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 15 - Strg: 68 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 100 - Luck: 93 - Int: 3
ORIA - Mythical - Spriggan (Ghost)
Played by: Odd Offline
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Posts: 10,723 | Total: 16,193
MP: 3059
#5
wild in the silence; no way to make it right
His call isn't answered, or at least, not intentionally. The cough is enough to make the alchemist smile despite the way his stomach drops again to hear it. So small and hollow sounding, yet carrying all the raspiness of an infection that had likely festered and rooted itself in the boy's lungs.

"Ahh, bad time for a cough, huh?" Remi says, spying the boy now that the sound of his cough rang like a beacon. Leaning down in the grasses, his shoulder against the boulder, the alchemist smiles and shrugs. 'Pretty good spot, though." He admits with a nod, trying not to look at the small smear of blood staining the boy's lips.

'Would you like to see a magic trick?'
THE ALCHEMIST
i’ve been chasin the storm of a lovesick lonely lie
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.


Age: 7 | Height: | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: - Strg: - Dext: - Endr: - Luck: - Int:
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#6
Had his mother actually had time for him, and not the hordes of other children in their household, she might’ve instilled a sense of stranger danger in him. Instead, as the man approached, the boy remained perfectly still – eyes widening a fraction, perhaps a bit like a piece of prey, a morsel to be easily snagged, carried off, done in. As it was though, the youth could only nod, mouth agape in something akin to wonder, bewilderment, and foolishness. “Thank-“, the acknowledgment and gratitude cut off again by more coughs, more reminders of eventuality. Of doom. Of nothing.

It had been a good spot, but he’d still been found.

Did he want to be?

Then the boy’s mind was distracted, deterred, by thoughts of magic. “Like, like the Abandoned?” Because…for all the stories, he did want to see some.
Remi Taliesin
the Bastion


Age: 31 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 15 - Strg: 68 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 100 - Luck: 93 - Int: 3
ORIA - Mythical - Spriggan (Ghost)
Played by: Odd Offline
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Posts: 10,723 | Total: 16,193
MP: 3059
#7
wild in the silence; no way to make it right
"No, much better than that." Remi chuckles. "Can you hold out your hands like this?" Raising his, palms up and together as if making a sloping bowl-shape, he grins at the boy. "Now I want you to close your eyes and thinking of whatever your absolute favourite thing is. Even if you don't have it anymore. Just remember when it was like. Can you do that?"

This was a magic the alchemist rarely used, but one he so adored. Creating things had been his entire world before Caido got its talons into him, and he'd gained and lost his creation abilities too many times. This though? Creating items purely from memory? It was pure, and simple and sweet.
THE ALCHEMIST
i’ve been chasin the storm of a lovesick lonely lie
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.


Age: 7 | Height: | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: - Strg: - Dext: - Endr: - Luck: - Int:
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Posts: 370 | Total: 370
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#8
Implored and enticed, the youth mirrored the man’s actions, palms up, together, bowl-shaped, as if he could hold something within them. He’d once caught the rain like that, let it pool along his fingers, laughing, laughing, laughing, before the sickness festered within him, and then he couldn’t laugh anymore. “My favorite…” he trailed off, used to doing so, before coughs dragged him to ceasing and desisting anyway.

His favorite thing had been playing in the Oasis, pants rolled up or completely naked and bereft since they day he was born, wading into the water, swimming until he and his friends and siblings were exhausted. Then they’d eat whatever they could find. Some wild berries. Oh. Berries. “Okay. I got it.” And he pictured them in his head – a sweet smile adorning his face.
Remi Taliesin
the Bastion


Age: 31 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 15 - Strg: 68 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 100 - Luck: 93 - Int: 3
ORIA - Mythical - Spriggan (Ghost)
Played by: Odd Offline
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Posts: 10,723 | Total: 16,193
MP: 3059
#9
wild in the silence; no way to make it right
The boy will feel berries appearing in his hands, ripe and plump, and just as he remembered them. "Pretty good, huh?" He asks. Smiling brightly, Remi nods his head slightly and sits down, motioning for the boy to join him.

"May I?" He asks, waiting for approval before popping one of the berries into his mouth. They wouldn't actually nourish, likely disappearing out of their bodies within an hour, but it didn't matter. So long as the child's last moments were as sweet as the fruit, that was all the Lullaby was concerned with. "My name is Remi, by the way. What's yours?"
THE ALCHEMIST
i’ve been chasin the storm of a lovesick lonely lie
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.


Age: 7 | Height: | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: - Strg: - Dext: - Endr: - Luck: - Int:
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#10
A gasp of delight warred its way through his lungs, grasping away at the fluid building within for a moment. ”Wow!” Excitedly, he began to tear through them, one by one, and then eventually in handfuls, save for the few the stranger had snagged. ”Can you do that all the time? Just-,” the wave of exultation made him spasm and cough again, and he ignored the blood intermingling, interspersing, with the berry juice on his chin. “Just make food appear?” How that would’ve made their lives so much easier! Then he wouldn't have to worry  so much about next meals! ”I wish I could do that. Then I could feed my broth-,” another cough; deeper and harsher. ”My brothers and sisters.”

A name to a face followed, and the child had already turned towards the angelic man, face full of glee, any apprehension gone. “I’m Malcolm.”
Remi Taliesin
the Bastion


Age: 31 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 15 - Strg: 68 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 100 - Luck: 93 - Int: 3
ORIA - Mythical - Spriggan (Ghost)
Played by: Odd Offline
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Posts: 10,723 | Total: 16,193
MP: 3059
#11
wild in the silence; no way to make it right
"I can. Though I do get tired sometimes." Remi admits with a soft chuckle. There was no need to get into the complexities of his magic, no need to tell the boy that he almost completely reserved this magic for moments like these moments. "I can teach you if you want?" The lying comes easier to him now. He'd once questioned his ability to send anyone to their death with lies obscuring things, but Ludo had helped him understand. And if he was wrong about it? Well. He'd pay for all those mistakes if he ever did make it to Mort's halls.

"Okay Malcolm. Sit up really straight. Then I want you to whisper the names of everyone in the world that you love, alright? Everyone you want to protect and make food for."

Hopefully lost in these instructions, as the boy did as he was told, Remi's tail would appear. Curved and deadly. Only when the boy had spoken the last name, no matter how long it took him, would Remi strike. Silently and painlessly life would slip from the boy's body, hopefully leaving only the lingering sweetness of the berries and the names of his family and friends on his tongue.
THE ALCHEMIST
i’ve been chasin the storm of a lovesick lonely lie
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.


Age: 7 | Height: | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: - Strg: - Dext: - Endr: - Luck: - Int:
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#12
Tired; Malcolm could understand tired. The notions crept into his bones and his lungs every day – but he soldiered on as best he could. But he was cracking and fraying from within, and eventually something would succumb: his strength, his lungs, everything all at once.

But not now, not when there was teaching to be had. He sat a little taller, a little straighter, as much as his body could manage, beginning to think on all those he loved and cared for. “There’s Ma and Pa…” closing his eyes, he imagined them all with loads of berries, bread from market stalls, even delicious desserts catered from some other talented people. “And Jesse, and Cliff, and Myra, and Lily,” he droned on and on, pausing intermittently to catch a breath, release a cough –

When suddenly he couldn’t anymore.

Then he was quiet. No more spasms. No more shudders, save for a final one, as the last breath and heartbeat left his body.

And then there was peace instead, a soul gone to Mort, no longer in utter agony.

{FIN}


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