Ronin
welcome to the playground, follow me
tell me your nightmares and fantasies
tell me your nightmares and fantasies
Love a bit of Pain Olympics, is what Ronin would snark if he were in either the state nor the mood for it, but as it stands he can only really flick his eyes up to see Remi collapse in a burnt, melty sort of heap on the ground some distance away. "Not sure... I can carry you..." he pants, his hand dancing up toward the walkie talkie that's still configured - and wouldn't luck be on their side, because it's waterproof.
Ronin doesn't explain in words so much as in a sort of code - it's a lot of numbers and colours without any explanation paired with them. But when he slurs an over, there's already a crackling response asking for coordinates, which Ronin confirms. "He's unchained," he has time to add, before his hand slips away from the walkie again and he lolls back against the wall.
Ronin doesn't explain in words so much as in a sort of code - it's a lot of numbers and colours without any explanation paired with them. But when he slurs an over, there's already a crackling response asking for coordinates, which Ronin confirms. "He's unchained," he has time to add, before his hand slips away from the walkie again and he lolls back against the wall.
sink into the wasteland underneath
stay for the night, I'll sell you a dream
stay for the night, I'll sell you a dream
