Remi snorted at the suggestion he needed to eat more and merely shrugged. Growing up as he had with never enough to eat, the idea of any sort of decadence or over indulging of food was completely foreign. It was likely he did need to eat more; what muscles he had were lean, and when his skin was bare the roads of veins could be clearly seen draping across him like string. Ruffling his free hand through his curls, the alchemist merely gave a non-committal shrug and grin.
"I have had enough losing myself for a lifetime." The alchemist muttered dryly, glancing up. The light was haloed around the back of Rory's head making it hard to see him properly. For a moment he would be beautifully silhouetted, blazing blue eyes standing out against the flaring backdrop of the sun like two unyielding sentinels, and then he would move—would fidget—and would be cast in impregnable shadow, and Remi, sun-blinded, would cease to see much of anything. Blinking away the spots of white in his vision, the alchemist took a breath and let it linger on his tongue. "My memories were taken. Did...I do not remember if I had mentioned that." He began, shaking his head a confused half-shake as he blinked stupidly at the ground. Indeed what with all the gods seemingly taking what they wanted of his mind, Remi's memory had grown worse and worse.
Hazarding what was meant to simply be a quick glance up, Remi was suddenly and brightly made to realize one fact he'd never really thought about before: he hadn't forgotten Rory. He remembered all of Rory, and that was perhaps more destabilizing than even the blue of his friend's eyes were. With Ronin gone Remi had almost no friends with whom his memory loss had not effected things in some way. But Rory. He remembered all of Rory, and for some reason that seemed so important.
It seemed so..
—do something new, embrace life—
..and he imagined Rory not in hushed hallways of darkness and stolen touches and breathless kisses, but in sunlit pastures pouring over the callouses of his hands continuing their game of naming shapes in the clouds. There was a world in those blue eyes where the memories were perfectly in sync, and just in that moment for Remi, that meant so much more than mere words could describe.
And it hurt.
"Sorry, ahh..is there—" Pulling his gaze away from Rory to a trough likely meant for the livestock, Remi flashed his friend a quick and apologetic smile before bee-lining towards it. Placing Aoife down in the grass where she happily began to tug at the sprouts, Remi cupped his hands and splashed the water on his face. Given a meager life on the road, the alchemist was unbothered by the algae lining the sides or the way the water was clouded by remnants of hay and the multiple muzzles that drank from the trough. The water was a shock to his senses, and though hazy images of a wary Rory that first day still clung like after-images behind his eyes, the strange shakiness in his gut subsided somewhat. Placing his hands on either side of the wood, the water dripping down from his nose and eyelashes, eventually Remi stood.
Running a hand through now-damp curls, the front of his shirt now v'd with water, he tried to flash Rory an apologetic grin, but it came out lopsided and not quite as sincere as he had aimed for. "Sorry." He mumbled. "Hot." This he said after having only just met Rory's gaze, which made his cheeks flush brilliantly with colour. "Ah, heat." Remi corrected quickly.
"I have had enough losing myself for a lifetime." The alchemist muttered dryly, glancing up. The light was haloed around the back of Rory's head making it hard to see him properly. For a moment he would be beautifully silhouetted, blazing blue eyes standing out against the flaring backdrop of the sun like two unyielding sentinels, and then he would move—would fidget—and would be cast in impregnable shadow, and Remi, sun-blinded, would cease to see much of anything. Blinking away the spots of white in his vision, the alchemist took a breath and let it linger on his tongue. "My memories were taken. Did...I do not remember if I had mentioned that." He began, shaking his head a confused half-shake as he blinked stupidly at the ground. Indeed what with all the gods seemingly taking what they wanted of his mind, Remi's memory had grown worse and worse.
Hazarding what was meant to simply be a quick glance up, Remi was suddenly and brightly made to realize one fact he'd never really thought about before: he hadn't forgotten Rory. He remembered all of Rory, and that was perhaps more destabilizing than even the blue of his friend's eyes were. With Ronin gone Remi had almost no friends with whom his memory loss had not effected things in some way. But Rory. He remembered all of Rory, and for some reason that seemed so important.
It seemed so..
—do something new, embrace life—
..and he imagined Rory not in hushed hallways of darkness and stolen touches and breathless kisses, but in sunlit pastures pouring over the callouses of his hands continuing their game of naming shapes in the clouds. There was a world in those blue eyes where the memories were perfectly in sync, and just in that moment for Remi, that meant so much more than mere words could describe.
And it hurt.
"Sorry, ahh..is there—" Pulling his gaze away from Rory to a trough likely meant for the livestock, Remi flashed his friend a quick and apologetic smile before bee-lining towards it. Placing Aoife down in the grass where she happily began to tug at the sprouts, Remi cupped his hands and splashed the water on his face. Given a meager life on the road, the alchemist was unbothered by the algae lining the sides or the way the water was clouded by remnants of hay and the multiple muzzles that drank from the trough. The water was a shock to his senses, and though hazy images of a wary Rory that first day still clung like after-images behind his eyes, the strange shakiness in his gut subsided somewhat. Placing his hands on either side of the wood, the water dripping down from his nose and eyelashes, eventually Remi stood.
Running a hand through now-damp curls, the front of his shirt now v'd with water, he tried to flash Rory an apologetic grin, but it came out lopsided and not quite as sincere as he had aimed for. "Sorry." He mumbled. "Hot." This he said after having only just met Rory's gaze, which made his cheeks flush brilliantly with colour. "Ah, heat." Remi corrected quickly.
I forgot what it was like, to think I found you finally
What if you were the one for me? I hope you weren't the one for me
What if you were the one for me? I hope you weren't the one for me
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.
