Gods, he was really getting tired of hearing that knock on his door. Night after night an incessant amount of busybodies, ones that he’s sure his best frenemy has convinced to approach his door. Each day an inch further into breaking that promise of not being sloppy. Danta’s asked for it, after all. But the knock on his door tonight is different, quieter almost, defeated, and he absolutely lets it sit there for a moment while he debates even answering.
He leads a relatively boring life within the confines of the room here at the Dusklight, this evening in particular has his bed strewn with his fine clothing, folded meticulously alongside the less finer ones, stained with bits of blood. At least he has the foresight to think about it ahead of time, each one of these items is white, and there’s the chemical scent of a cleaner that he dips the items in to clean them up more fully.
And he’s waiting for it to be done with the washbasin beside him that he dunks it in to make sure he doesn’t clean it too far to where it breaks the fibers down, which leads him to grabbing a towel to wipe his hands – shirtless, because he’s in the confines of his room and the shirt he would be wearing is currently getting the cleaning treatment.
The door swings open partially, his horned head poking out as his lips part to flash a sharp toothed grin with a “[say]not intere—[/say]” that gets cut off the second he sees the familiar blonde and truthfully his favorite weakness in the Climb. Wine. “[say]Didn’t have enough bodies to keep you warm tonight that you come crawling over to mine?[/say]” He asks, grin sharpening as the door opens wider and his gaze drops to that bruise placed on Danta’s shoulder. He steps back and aside to let the other Ancient in. His room is a bit of a mess at the moment, as stated above, but the heat within is divine, and there’s bits and pieces of collections restarted since he’d lost all the ones he harbored within the Climb, set meticulously within the shelves on the rooms interior.
He leads a relatively boring life within the confines of the room here at the Dusklight, this evening in particular has his bed strewn with his fine clothing, folded meticulously alongside the less finer ones, stained with bits of blood. At least he has the foresight to think about it ahead of time, each one of these items is white, and there’s the chemical scent of a cleaner that he dips the items in to clean them up more fully.
And he’s waiting for it to be done with the washbasin beside him that he dunks it in to make sure he doesn’t clean it too far to where it breaks the fibers down, which leads him to grabbing a towel to wipe his hands – shirtless, because he’s in the confines of his room and the shirt he would be wearing is currently getting the cleaning treatment.
The door swings open partially, his horned head poking out as his lips part to flash a sharp toothed grin with a “[say]not intere—[/say]” that gets cut off the second he sees the familiar blonde and truthfully his favorite weakness in the Climb. Wine. “[say]Didn’t have enough bodies to keep you warm tonight that you come crawling over to mine?[/say]” He asks, grin sharpening as the door opens wider and his gaze drops to that bruise placed on Danta’s shoulder. He steps back and aside to let the other Ancient in. His room is a bit of a mess at the moment, as stated above, but the heat within is divine, and there’s bits and pieces of collections restarted since he’d lost all the ones he harbored within the Climb, set meticulously within the shelves on the rooms interior.
