REMI
the lullaby
I wear this crown of thorns
Upon my liar's chair
Upon my liar's chair
"Thanks." Remi replies, appreciating the offer though not exactly sounding like he's accepted it. With bruised ribs, a sprained wrist, and numerous cuts and burns, weariness is what the alchemist feels the most succinctly. 'Whatever you did...' He mumbles, referring to Deimos' lifedrain magic. "...packed quite the punch."
Holding his injured wrist against his chest, Remi watches as Ronin reaches for the pendant. Unless stars suddenly fell from the heavens, the Huntsman was in about as much danger as Remi had been last time they were in this situation. And oh look, nothing happens.
"After you." He chuckles, raising one shoulder to brush some of the stone dust from his cheek and leaving a coppery smear in its place.
Holding his injured wrist against his chest, Remi watches as Ronin reaches for the pendant. Unless stars suddenly fell from the heavens, the Huntsman was in about as much danger as Remi had been last time they were in this situation. And oh look, nothing happens.
"After you." He chuckles, raising one shoulder to brush some of the stone dust from his cheek and leaving a coppery smear in its place.
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
I cannot repair
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.