never claimed to be a saint

REMI

the alchemist

What good are hands
if there's nothing that they hold

"Not all colours work as well." Remi replies with a thoughtful twitch of his lips. "Ronin has used a few while doing paintings for Safrin...though he's never asked for more.." Frowning, the alchemist is left to wonder if that meant they didn't work for painting as well as he thought they might, or that the Star just wasn't as creative as his daughter?

Glancing down at the dragon with a raised brow—the alchemist had never really been one to keep himself as well-groomed as his counterpart—Remi glances back toward Seren with a small shrug. "I am alright." He says after a moment. Necessarily there was a certain amount of distance between he and the starchild, if only because of his slightly parental role in her life.

"I...know at least about the fire at the Bar and the Guild." Both hospitals were a complete mystery to him, though. "It was not the Order, that is all I know. Given that they were attacks on medical facilities, I can only think it was personal against Nate or Isla. Why else go after the innocent? Even in times of war...that is...very much not a thing which is done."

And what good are hearts
if you bury them all alone?

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!