RONIN
the darkstar
light is easy to love.
"Well how kind of you to say as much," Ronin murmurs, though unbeknownst to him, he's currently yelling into Remi's helmet. The Italian lilt purrs quite pleasantly into his own, given that he's configured it almost obsessively, and he probably should have thought of that before letting the other man seal his head into a box that basically consists of his voice. He tries to keep his laughter as quiet as possible, and rather than booming instructions through the helmets, he swivels on the bike to face Remi as best as possible.
Reaching out a gloved hand, he reaches for the control panel on the side of the helmet, turning the volume down a few notches. "How is that?" he asks. "If you need to change it, it's just on the side there, alright? You ready?" The musician won't be able to see his smile, but it's very, very audible.
Reaching out a gloved hand, he reaches for the control panel on the side of the helmet, turning the volume down a few notches. "How is that?" he asks. "If you need to change it, it's just on the side there, alright? You ready?" The musician won't be able to see his smile, but it's very, very audible.
show me your darkness.
