RONIN
the darkstar
”There’s that sweet man I married,” Ronin says, and if his voice is a little muffled, it’s definitely not because he’s stuffing his face with leftover bacon. No sir. ”Oh, I’m sure it’s hugely foreboding. I bet it’s got rain and gargoyles for days, and everyone is dressed in stuffy suits, and they all have stupid names and titles.” As for whether Ianto would be welcomed there? Ronin emerges in the doorway of the wagon with a sunny smile and a scarf wrapped around his antlers, and he absolutely doesn’t need three rows of teeth to seem predatory.
”I’m sure they’ll accept him with open arms. Because if they don’t, there’s going to be a problem, and I have a funny feeling that the Order don’t really want to have a problem with us,” he says, raising an eyebrow down at father and son and gesturing vaguely to Remi’s shoulder. ”You’ve got... everywhere,” he says. Helpfully.
”I’m sure they’ll accept him with open arms. Because if they don’t, there’s going to be a problem, and I have a funny feeling that the Order don’t really want to have a problem with us,” he says, raising an eyebrow down at father and son and gesturing vaguely to Remi’s shoulder. ”You’ve got... everywhere,” he says. Helpfully.
