you're never gonna get it, I'm a hazard to myself
"Not really," Danta admits with a lopsided smile; and not just when it comes to the rain either. Surprised to find his jacket taken as well - and even moreso to realise Sunjata is drying both it and him off as they walk - the Maverick lowers the towel in time not to relive a certain demigod's greatest hits down the staircase. No longer cold and sodden, the grey tinge to his skin starts to fade and flush with life once more, Danta letting out a sigh of relief and giving a grateful nod to the Flood.
"Thanks," he mumbles, pausing outside the door for the other man to unlock it, feathering his fingers through hair that's now thoroughly tousled and messy. As for what he wants to do, whilst even a couple of days ago the answer might have been clear and decisive (and part of a list, even), now Danta can only frown into the room and shake his head a bit.
"I'm not sure," he says, stepping inside as if the room might be able to tell him what he's not able to put into words. And it does react, the Maverick instinctively glancing up as the ceiling warps and lowers, as the walls and floor become rocky and the window morphs into something resembling a cave exit, looking out into the fiery glare of the Climb.
In here, though, it's warm and dark and cozy; the ground dips lower into a bed that's more nest than anything, sumptuous with blankets, furs and pillows. A faint scent of smoke and spice lingers in the air, something old and near forgotten that Danta is sure comes from somewhere in his very early childhood.
"I think I might just want to lay down for a bit," Danta mumbles, taking the lead from the room and already starting to peel off his shirt. "Sorry it's not as exciting as you might have expected. You don't have to stay," he tells Sunjata as he unlaces his shoes. "The lightning is in my bag."
"Thanks," he mumbles, pausing outside the door for the other man to unlock it, feathering his fingers through hair that's now thoroughly tousled and messy. As for what he wants to do, whilst even a couple of days ago the answer might have been clear and decisive (and part of a list, even), now Danta can only frown into the room and shake his head a bit.
"I'm not sure," he says, stepping inside as if the room might be able to tell him what he's not able to put into words. And it does react, the Maverick instinctively glancing up as the ceiling warps and lowers, as the walls and floor become rocky and the window morphs into something resembling a cave exit, looking out into the fiery glare of the Climb.
In here, though, it's warm and dark and cozy; the ground dips lower into a bed that's more nest than anything, sumptuous with blankets, furs and pillows. A faint scent of smoke and spice lingers in the air, something old and near forgotten that Danta is sure comes from somewhere in his very early childhood.
"I think I might just want to lay down for a bit," Danta mumbles, taking the lead from the room and already starting to peel off his shirt. "Sorry it's not as exciting as you might have expected. You don't have to stay," he tells Sunjata as he unlaces his shoes. "The lightning is in my bag."
Dantalion
I'll break it to you easy, this is hell
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
