RONIN
the darkstar
light is easy to love.
"I'm not sure how to answer that," Ronin admits with a grin. Is no good? Is yes bad? He's luckily distracted by the good old history o'Britain, shaking his head and shifting to get a little more comfortable, letting his cheek loll against Remi's curls. "Ireland is split in two," he explains. "There's Northern Ireland, and the Republic of Ireland. NI is a part of Britain, the RoI isn't." That's about as simple as he can make it without cracking open a can of war worms and bloodshed.
"Me," he agrees, raising his eyebrows as if feigning wonderment about it as well. "Sure, that sounds fun. I'll have to teach you a couple of things about motorbikes, though, so you can understand why we're shouting." Grinning and letting himself enjoy the appropriately moody atmosphere, he raises his eyebrows at Bandcamp's sudden question.
"Bold of you to assume that I am only good at one of those things," he jokes. "Hand-to-hand, though. Improvised weapons relies on there being anything around to use, and I'd never dream of throwing a shoebox filled with old milk and mandrakes at an intruder." Literally. It would literally never occur to him to do that.
"Me," he agrees, raising his eyebrows as if feigning wonderment about it as well. "Sure, that sounds fun. I'll have to teach you a couple of things about motorbikes, though, so you can understand why we're shouting." Grinning and letting himself enjoy the appropriately moody atmosphere, he raises his eyebrows at Bandcamp's sudden question.
"Bold of you to assume that I am only good at one of those things," he jokes. "Hand-to-hand, though. Improvised weapons relies on there being anything around to use, and I'd never dream of throwing a shoebox filled with old milk and mandrakes at an intruder." Literally. It would literally never occur to him to do that.
show me your darkness.
