all you have is your fire
and the place you need to reach
and the place you need to reach
Everything is fine, objectively. Right? Nothing to complain about. Void-tainted wicker woman, dead. Asta, dead fully healed by a busty, starry-eyed goddess. All is well with the Outer Brambles, the Hollowed Grounds, the world. For now, anyway, according to everyone they pass and the patrons within the Dusklight. And so Danta has been fine, too, if not a little manic, a little too much, like there's something trying to burst out from the seams of him and it's all barely contained.
But they muddle through. Flora heads home, back to tropical cocktails and sandy beaches, night falls, and things just keep ticking on.
Danta doesn't know when it happens, exactly, or at what point his legs are taking him away from the festivities that the Dusklight's main floor has to offer, but he finds himself having slipped away and up the stairs towards his rooms. It shouldn't take as long as it does to unlock his door, but his hands won't seem to stop shaking, and it feels as though someone has placed a large stone on his chest that he has to try to breathe around somehow.
Either way, the door does open eventually, and he leaves the keys where they fall as his fumbling hands can't quite keep hold of them. Exhaling a breath he can't seem to catch again, he shakes out his fingers and moves to the fireplace so he can brace his arms against the mantelpiece and just think for a second.
But they muddle through. Flora heads home, back to tropical cocktails and sandy beaches, night falls, and things just keep ticking on.
Danta doesn't know when it happens, exactly, or at what point his legs are taking him away from the festivities that the Dusklight's main floor has to offer, but he finds himself having slipped away and up the stairs towards his rooms. It shouldn't take as long as it does to unlock his door, but his hands won't seem to stop shaking, and it feels as though someone has placed a large stone on his chest that he has to try to breathe around somehow.
Either way, the door does open eventually, and he leaves the keys where they fall as his fumbling hands can't quite keep hold of them. Exhaling a breath he can't seem to catch again, he shakes out his fingers and moves to the fireplace so he can brace his arms against the mantelpiece and just think for a second.
Dantalion
don't you ever tame your demons
but always keep them on a leash
but always keep them on a leash
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
