long shadows

RONIN if there's one thing i'm good at, it's surviving "I have, haven't I?" Ronin sighs, as if realising his husband is right is a nuisance when all he wants to do is cover him in kisses. Easily swayed by the promise of dressing the other man, though, he allows his hands to be taken and his attention directed towards the houseboat. The place is looking more homey by the day, though it could use some finishing, lived-in touches, and the Huntsman can only grin to listen to Oria as he's handed a shirt to inspect. "Can spriggans fly?" he wonders. "Not that you seem to mind at all, Oria. Should we make you a little house in here for you to decorate?" Then, of course, Remi has his shirt off and Ronin's focus is very much on the alchemist. He smiles wickedly, holding up the shirt as if to compare it to his husband to make the choice, before nodding his approval. "You are getting better at this," he informs him, fully intending to help him put his clothes on if for no other reason than it's an excuse to touch. "All you need is a waistcoat and some charcoal stains and you'll be back in the artisan's guild," he remarks.

are you really going to talk about timing in times like these?

Pleased to be included in the conversation, the spriggan gives her head a shake and points dramatically toward one of the trees outside. Holding his shirt in his hands, Remi glances out of the window and considers for a moment. "You are not worried about ... birds? Or squirrels?" Given her size, they'd pose quite the threat if it ever came to that. With a reassuring trill, the spriggan shakes her head again, before sitting down and blowing against the windowpane so that she could draw shapes in the mist left by her breath.

Snorting under his breath, Remi holds out his arms that Ronin might help him put his shirt on. "Gods it has been a while since I thought of that...I remember being so pleased with my own little guild. It felt like such an accomplishment." How far the pair of them had come.

'You look charming as ever." Remi notes as he begins to button up his shirt. "I take it you won't be changing? Or have you something even more handsome laid away somewhere? This is a date you know."

remi

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

RONIN if there's one thing i'm good at, it's surviving "I bet Sugar will patrol any tree you decide to set up in," Ronin murmurs to Oria, grinning as he peeks out of the window. "Not that you'll need her, though I bet you'd make quite the dragon rider if you wanted." Stepping away to let the ghostly little spriggan do her artwork, he busies himself in fixing Remi's collar and sleeves, smoothing out the shirt so it sits right and then stepping away that his husband might button it up. Tilting his head, he grins to the other man. "It was an accomplishment," he corrects. "Just because these days you can rip up trees with your bare hands, doesn't make it any less of a win back then. Without those baby steps, you might not be here, hm?" He winks, before gazing down at his own outfit. "Oh, I think maybe I could..." Drifting off that he might nibble his lower lip in consideration, it's with a small shiver that crimson and gold feathers blanket his shoulders; not enough for anything to catch fire, but more than enough that his clothing changes accordingly, bleeding into tight black leather and tiny, twinkling constellations. "How's this?" he asks.

are you really going to talk about timing in times like these?

As for her ability to defend herself, Oria grins for a moment and holds her arms out and wriggles them ominously. Nothing happens for a moment until her form seems to melt away leaving only the bluish-greenish glow of her spirit remaining. Popping back into existence with a trill of pride, she nods emphatically at the idea of riding Sugar.

Glancing down at his hands, Remi just chuckles for a moment. While it was true that both he and Ronin certainly looked stronger in a number of ways, it was also true that most of what they could do remained relatively dormant until it was called upon. "Noticed that, did you." He murmurs, of how Remi had decided best to complete his tasks with Gideon.

Watching as Ronin turns away, Remi shivers at the sight of taut leather over the crisp lines of his husband's body. "Well that just is not fair." He mumbles a touch doubtfully as his feet carry him without hesitation to his husband's side. Stretching his fingers out over the smoothly stretched fabric that wraps around Ronin's torso, Remi gives his head a desperate sort of shake as his fingers tense greedily. "We're going for a drink." He mutters conspiratorily under his breath, as a reminder. "On a date. By no means shove Ronin against the wall. Do not even think about it."

remi

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

RONIN if there's one thing i'm good at, it's surviving "Of course I noticed it. I have always been a great admirer of the way you handle wood," Ronin says, trying and failing to stop the smile from spreading across his face. He does glance to Oria for long enough to spot her disappearing act, something that he desperately wants to bring up with Remi, but then his husband is beside him and he can feel the heat of his hands as they press along tight leather, and all other thoughts flee his mind. "No no, please do shove Ronin up against the wall. He loves it," he mutters right back at the alchemist, stepping closer that he might press himself up against Remi's side. "But perhaps not until we've had at least one drink, mm?" He winks. "I did promise, after all." Slipping his hand into Remi's back pocket (and yes, he does give his ass a generous squeeze), Ronin tries to direct them out of the door again.

are you really going to talk about timing in times like these?

Growling something in the back of his throat as his cheeks flush, Remi presses his teeth together and forces out a laugh. "You really are the worst, you know? Wearing that, telling me that I really should shove you against the wall, only to have the nerve to agree with me?" Tilting his head back and exhaling a stream of playfully frustrated breath toward their ceiling, Remi grins and shakes his head as he glances back down.

Straightening and tensing his muscles that he might remember what restraint means and why he ought to care about it, Remi grumbles in response to his husband's ass-grab. "If we do find a pillow out in the desert, the first thing I am doing is hitting you with it." He complains, allowing himself to be walked out of the houseboat.

The fresh air helps to still the fire ignited in his belly, though the way the light catches across Ronin as they walk certainly keeps it from going out. Linking their hands together, Remi lets them swing back and forth as if they were children. "If you could only have one drink for the rest of your life, would you choose wine, or whiskey do you think?"

remi

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

RONIN if there's one thing i'm good at, it's surviving Ronin's smile turns sunny and entirely smug, and he gives Remi's ass another squeeze for his trouble. "I can't help myself," he says, finding himself far too enamoured to pretend to tease his husband. "Every time I'm with you, I'm torn between wanting to show you off to everyone we meet, and wanting to have my hands and my mouth all over you. I'm making life difficult for both of us." They saunter out of the houseboat together and into the starlight, Ronin freeing his hand from Remi's pocket that the alchemist might swing them together, a gesture which he does absolutely nothing to prevent. "Ooooh, now that's difficult," he hisses in a breath, wrinkling his nose. "So if you choose one or the other, do you get to have all types of that drink? Or am I choosing one specific wine or whiskey to have for the rest of my life? Because my gut wants to go with wine. What about you? If you could only have wine or gin forever, what would it be?"

are you really going to talk about timing in times like these?

"Difficult and hard." Remi adds, the innuendo obvious but not untrue. "Well you know, the fae are a very wild people." He notes with a shrug. "I am not so sure that being shown off and having your hands all over me need to be mutually exclusive." For all that the pair were, voyeurs had never been one of their prominent sexual traits. The alchemist certainly didn't mind, save for moments like this of course.

'We will say...all the types. Though if you pick wine, you have to select red or white.' It was only fair. Breathing in a long breath through his nose, Remi smiles to himself before answering immediately: "Gin, absolutely. Without question."

The will o'wisps were out in clusters of light, bunching together only to mischievously float away. With a grin Remi waves a hand at one so that the air currents might make it spin around, before glancing adoringly over his shoulder at Ronin. "Dramatics aside...of all the places we have lived, where has been your favourite?"

remi

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

RONIN if there's one thing i'm good at, it's surviving "Well, now you are just being unfair." Ronin grumbles, though the grin on his face says otherwise, and he gives Remi's hand a gentle squeeze as they stroll along the riverbank towards the Sea of Branches. Will this lead to some very inappropriate groping over drinks? Remi will have to wait and find out. (He really won't - he probably already knows the answer, and it's yes. It's absolutely yes). "Well in that case, I suppose I'm drinking red wine for the rest of our lives," he says with a laugh, reaching out to playfully redirect the wisp caught in Remi's air current. As the other man looks over his shoulder, the Huntsman is momentarily caught by the how effortlessly handsome Remi looks, bathed in the light of the stars and the will-o-wisps, looking carefree enough that Ronin's knees threaten to go weak. It takes a moment for him to gather himself again, to blink away the fiery colour of seaglass green illuminated by fae lights, and he hums out a considering sigh. "I think here," he says softly, like it's an admission. "I feel like there were two stages to our lives together - Before Aoife, and After Aoife. And only here do I feel like we've finally joined them together. I love it here, with you." His smile is unexpectedly bashful, even for Ronin. "If you could live anywhere in the Wilds, though, where would you choose?" he asks, not wanting to linger too much on his own sentimentality. (Good luck, Ronin).

are you really going to talk about timing in times like these?

Remi doesn't need to wait to find out, not with Ronin's emotions acting like a paint-by-number where most of it is already filled in. "A good choice." The alchemist agrees, of red wine, thoroughly distracted by the blue of Ronin's eyes such that he's nearly forgotten his question altogether.

Ronin's answer is surprisingly apt and poignant such that it isn't just his handsome profile that has Remi's breath catching in his throat. "That...sounds exactly right." The words are whispered as if he too feels like it's some sort of admission to be said with respect. Tugging at Ronin's hand to direct the Huntsman's step closer, Remi leans over to press a kiss against his cheek. "I love it here, with you too." He agrees, feeling as though his lips had just been electrified for having brushed ever so slightly against Ronin's skin.

"I think..." Twitching his lips, Remi hmmmms for a moment before deciding. "The Oerwoud I think. I liked the waterfalls there, and I can only imagine the sorts of creepy and dark places I could slink about in." He replies, bobbing his eyebrows at Ronin.

Once the bar comes into view, perched effortlessly on stilts that it might be considered both part of the Woods as well as the Stonesong, Remi grins and waves his hand that Ronin might go in first. Being a gentleman had its benefits of course, namely watching having an unblemished view of his husband's ass in tight brown leather (the view of which made his own pants grow tight, but nevermind).

remi

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

RONIN if there's one thing i'm good at, it's surviving His smile grows as he's tugged closer, Ronin shifting to slip his arm around Remi, leaning into the kiss that's pressed to his cheek. "I was hoping you would agree," he murmurs, turning his head to sneak a kiss to the corner of Remi's mouth before he turns away again. And he's still grinning to hear his answer about the Wilds, nodding slow undersanding. "The Oerwoud is about as close to the Greatwood as you can get when it comes to the Wilds," he remarks, like that isn't a coincidence at all. And when the bar comes into view and Ronin is ushered forward, he - of course - takes full advantage of it. Not one to deny his husband the chance to ogle him, Ronin all but saunters inside, feathers and leathers on display for all to see (but mostly Remi, and they all know it). And when he does swagger up to the bar, it's to order - naturally - a glass of red wine and a botanical gin that he thinks the fae have boasted about every time he's stepped into the place. "Go ahead and choose a table," he says, waggling his eyebrows at the Lullaby. "Hopefully there's one in a suitably creepy and dark place for you to slink into."

are you really going to talk about timing in times like these?

"Is it? I hadn't noticed." Remi hums mischievously. His smile all but falls away, replaced by an expression that almost looks pained as he tucks his lips over his teeth and reminds himself once again, not to simply shove the former-Star against something hard (a wall, his cock, it didn't matter). Flushed and distracted, Remi is already choosing a table when Ronin shouts his instructions. Rolling his eyes and turning toward a window that looked out on the Stonesong (not least of all so that he could quickly adjust the front of his pants), Remi sits down and waits for Ronin to return.

The bar smells of sage, wood, and fresh water. Unlike bars in Torchline that smelled mostly of vomit and blood or those in Stormbreak that smelled like sex and mischief, this one felt utterly charming. "Everything is dark just now," Remi points out when Ronin joins him. "And I think all it takes is a few tentacles to make it suitably creepy, don't you agree?" Flashing his husband a smile, Remi leans back in his chair before fixing the Huntsman with a stare. "I think....this is one of the more normal things we have done in ages. The last time we went for just a regular drink was when we tried to go on a first date." He doesn't bother asking if the Huntsman remembers because Remi knows he will.

"To us." Dimples deep and his eyes warm in the glow from candles and will o'wisps both, Remi holds his glass out for Ronin to cheers'.

remi

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

RONIN if there's one thing i'm good at, it's surviving Whilst Remi chooses their space and waxes lyrical about creepy tentacles (maybe just for tonight, since they're both in such a good mood), Ronin makes idle chit-chat with the barman and collects up their drinks, offering a cheerful goodbye before he's heading over to join his husband. "That's not true - you're glowing, tentacles and all," he assures the alchemist as he sidles into his seat opposite and sets the glasses down. "And I will be too, probably." In a literal sense, but rest assured there will be no darkness around this table tonight. Using fingers tipped with phoenix down, Ronin pinches the wick of the candle at their table to light it and lifts his glass, clinking it with Remi's in a way that makes it sound musical and magical in a place like this. "To us," he says warmly. "And you know, I think you're right. Which is a travesty, I might add. I think I'd like to make a habit of this. I don't want the ordinary to become something that's a special occasion for us. And," he adds with a mischievous wink, "there's a notice board in the back of this place. Do you know how many people want things to hunted in the Greatwood? Lots."

are you really going to talk about timing in times like these?

Remi glances down at himself as if expecting to see embers pulsing out of his chest. When he doesn't, his grin grows crooked as he shrugs. "It must be because I am in such good company." And indeed though that certainly is the case, Mort's touch has worked wonders unseen on the alchemist's soul.

"Show off." Remi coos adoringly before taking a sip of his drink. As if surprised to hear he was right about anything, he raises his brows inquiringly as he lowers his glass, wondering what it could be. "Nor do I. For Mateo's sake too. It is probably strange to have dads who build skyports and hunts monsters but don't sit down for family dinners more than once a year."

Raising his glass to his nose and giving it an experimental sniff to try and determine what the fae used in making it, Remi cocks his head to the side as one cheek dimples far more deeply than the other side. "Oh you don't say." He gasps, pretending to be surprised. "Did I tell you the other day someone apparently put out a bounty on a certain manticore in the Greatwood? A young hunter came to try and kill me." Remi adds sounding amused.

remi

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)