#m. renaud.

[armsdealing]

@traumeriin / cont.

What a charming answer. Renaud grabs his cigarette, still lit, and places it on his ear. “Now I’m curious. Try me.” He doesn’t normally get along with other beings within the dream plane (bit of a control thing, see; he likes to be the only one holding the wheel) but Rosemary has done the right thing by intriguing him. He’d much rather hear a good story. 

[armsdealing]

@sepiacasket​ / plotted.

He’s not sure yet where Salvatore Lombardi stands, but he knows this much: all humans think they will make it. All humans think they are the exception. And they love when they’re proven right. 

“Oh, finally.” Renaud smiles at the old man almost sheepishly and under the blue moon, his teeth appear to glow. "Look at the time -- I was right about to leave, lucky you.”

Luck is malleable when he’s in the picture, as easy to twist as clay or his looks or this bedroom. He’s been thoughtful enough to make sure it’s accurate, at least, and you’d be hard-pressed to believe this isn’t real -- if it weren’t for the strong ultramarine light bursting from the windows and into the room.

He sits on the bed and raises a brow. “How’s life been treating you, Mr. Lombardi? I’ve got to say, you don’t look younger, but you look alive. I’m glad.” 

[armsdealing]

“You missed me?”

“Hmm, I know I’ve missed you. Work is awful boring without you.” A fingertip traces the edge of her jawline as he speaks, his voice -- Cassander’s voice -- smooth as velvet, a little pout by the end. Blood stains his shirt’s collar, not quite a dry copper hue yet. “Eat some sinners lately?”

[armsdealing]

@neotropical / :/

           “DIDN’T YOU READ the fine print, my love?” How impressive the way Renaud manages to sound like himself no matter the voice he’s using. Charmaine never has problems identifying him, even if she’s never seen the face before, and he’s sure it has to do with the voice. “If you arrive late to the party, the invitation is revoked.” Mean eyes don’t blink as bullets punch holes in the slab of concrete he’s using as cover, and they don’t blink as he pushes a button on his phone and an a explosion distorts the gunshots into a tangle of screams. He continues look and continues to speak calmly, in that breathy intonation of his that he knows Charmaine will hear, and he smiles: “I’ll forgive you, just this one time, if you get those snipers off my back.”