the last blues we're ever gonna have

This scar I can't reverse, when the more it heals the worse it hurts

The inside of the shop seems the same as it ever was despite the overwhelming changes. Displaced flowers and vines that seemed to be an integral part of the apartment's structure now rather than just a feature blocked much of the interior from view, but even from the doorstep the Lullaby could see that his son had expanded his offerings significantly. "Well, they would not kill us anyway." Remi hums under his breath as he reaches out a hand to touch something before instantly thinking better of it. "So if you need a test subject...?"

The click of the door and the sudden hush that descends on the shop seems to remind the Lullaby why it was he'd come in the middle of the night. That and Mateo's subtle mention of the blood he'd rather sloppily gotten onto himself. "Sì, grazie." Not needing to be told where the sink was, nevertheless, the Lullaby let his son lead the way. What would have been little more than an intuitive act of parental respect for most, was Remi's conscious way of trying to respect his son's space and independence.

Clearing his throat inconspicuously (ish), the Lullaby tries to keep away from the carnivorous plants which have dozily roused themselves as the scent of blood. "Your friend...that man will not bother her again."

REMI