we live in a world someone else imagined
"You don't have to say it like it's wrong, to be enjoying this," Ronin says warmly, smiling over his shoulder to the alchemist. "I'm enjoying it too. And you're right - it'll even out in the end. So let's just embrace this for what it is, and for however long it lasts." He winks, stepping aside so that Remi can go ahead and inspect the little doll. Still, he lets out an outraged sort of gasp at the implication that his handiwork is not good enough.
"I am an artiste," he informs his husband, his pronunciation of the word making it sound as though he probably heard it from Bastien and thinks it sounds cool. Swatting Remi's hands away, Ronin plucks up his doll and promptly slips it over his hand, his fingers making 'hands' out of two of the little rags. "Besides," he says. "Mine is a puppet. So there. If you think you can do better, there's plenty of material leftover."
Reaching out, the Ludo puppet attempts to grab Remi's nose. Just because.
"I am an artiste," he informs his husband, his pronunciation of the word making it sound as though he probably heard it from Bastien and thinks it sounds cool. Swatting Remi's hands away, Ronin plucks up his doll and promptly slips it over his hand, his fingers making 'hands' out of two of the little rags. "Besides," he says. "Mine is a puppet. So there. If you think you can do better, there's plenty of material leftover."
Reaching out, the Ludo puppet attempts to grab Remi's nose. Just because.
the dark star
