RONIN
the darkstar
light is easy to love.
Raising his eyebrows to hear the vague, yet telling details about Finn from his husband, Ronin's shoulders relax suddenly as things seem to fall into place. Even moments from seasons ago make more sense, and he offers Remi an easy nod. "Thats entirely fair. Everything in Stormbreak is well signposted, at least, so you shouldn't stumble there by accident." Knowing where the traps may lie is half the battle, after all. Ronin glances down into winding, sleepy streets as they cross a bridge towards the Plaza, and on their right the Tower stretches up and up towards the sky.
"Hmm...? Oh, well. If we were fighting for real, I have no idea," he says with an honest and roguish little grin. "Although I think you would probably have the edge. You're able to push me out of my body, and you are much more at home in your shifts than I am." The unspoken suggestion, of course, is that they could just as easily choose to take a fall, depending on the sort of show they want to put on.
Ronin doesn't try to stop the smug grin that beams across his face to hear Remi repeat himself, and if there's a little bit of a swagger in his step, so be it. "Oh of course not," he all but croons. "I expect you to call me General of the Storm."
The Plaza opens up before them out of nowhere, it seems, and its tranquility makes the place a quiet sort of sanctum that threatens, at any moment, to burst with life. A nearby stall brings with it the smell of coffee and sausages, and Ronin gestures as if to ask his husband if that would do. "Make one sausage joke. I dare you."
"Hmm...? Oh, well. If we were fighting for real, I have no idea," he says with an honest and roguish little grin. "Although I think you would probably have the edge. You're able to push me out of my body, and you are much more at home in your shifts than I am." The unspoken suggestion, of course, is that they could just as easily choose to take a fall, depending on the sort of show they want to put on.
Ronin doesn't try to stop the smug grin that beams across his face to hear Remi repeat himself, and if there's a little bit of a swagger in his step, so be it. "Oh of course not," he all but croons. "I expect you to call me General of the Storm."
The Plaza opens up before them out of nowhere, it seems, and its tranquility makes the place a quiet sort of sanctum that threatens, at any moment, to burst with life. A nearby stall brings with it the smell of coffee and sausages, and Ronin gestures as if to ask his husband if that would do. "Make one sausage joke. I dare you."
show me your darkness.
