Dantalion
but you can't be free
Danta isn't sure he likes this bar yet. It was all going great until it stopped being the vibrant heat of noon and whatever enchantment on the Hanged Man tilted the sky towards lazy dusk, a sea breeze ruffling through his fair hair. But whatever, maybe the booze is great, who fucking knows? Not him, not until he actually goes inside.
Right now, though, he's distracted by the portion of the tavern that hangs directly over the waterfront. Crouched at the edge of the well-worn boards, his ruddy leather coat splayed behind him to disguise the feline twitch of his tail, he's facinated by the dart and twist of dark shapes (fish? merfolk?) beneath the water.
Hands clasp his knees, fingers drumming along them, and he tilts his head as if debating whether the water is too cold to investigate. (Probably, is the inevitable answer - he just has to get there).
Right now, though, he's distracted by the portion of the tavern that hangs directly over the waterfront. Crouched at the edge of the well-worn boards, his ruddy leather coat splayed behind him to disguise the feline twitch of his tail, he's facinated by the dart and twist of dark shapes (fish? merfolk?) beneath the water.
Hands clasp his knees, fingers drumming along them, and he tilts his head as if debating whether the water is too cold to investigate. (Probably, is the inevitable answer - he just has to get there).
'cause I'm selfish, I'm obscene
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
