in these trying times we're not trying

maybe i'm a runaway train, maybe i'm a feather in a hurricane

Remi crinkles his nose. "My senses can be...hard to dull, at times." He vaguely explains. All the more so during sex. Though perhaps had they been on the bed, with the scent of Locke in his nose, Remi might have performed better.

"Oh, that must have been..." Remi frowns as his fingertips pulse like rain outward from her spine. "...we had a very rough LongNight. The days right after were very dark." Maeve's description sounds completely out of place for the Star, but considering Ronin had just watched his best friend be 'murdered' and had his marriage nearly end, he was owed a bit of leniency.

Releasing Maeve and feeling the chill of the seabreeze now that she wasn't pressed against him, the alchemist sits up, ruffling a hand through his curls. Beneath him the bearskin rug disappears and indeed the floorboards are every bit as hard as she'd implied they would be. Rising to his feet, Remi reaches for his clothes as his wings fold against his back and then disappear altogether. "I have already stayed a lot longer than I intended to."

THE LULLABY

maybe it's a long gray game, but maybe that's a good thing