. . . demons as in the things that I am familiar with, or something else?
[He's learning, slowly but surely, not to take anything for granted when it comes to hearing about other worlds. If this man is from another world; he may well just be a particularly strange man from Thedas. Who can say!]
They're...different? The hierarchy is different, the way demons are born is varied, they're not bound by virtues and vices, they're more dangerous. [The demons here are dangerous, but people appear to be capable of dealing with them and most demons seem to be mindless.] Certain demons can disguise themselves as humans, most of them do it for gain, some of them do it because they choose to deny their heritage so they can live in peace.
[Few and far between, but it happens.
And at that Dante rounds the corner to the path leading to Fenris's manor, he's not difficult to spot if one is looking, like a tall, red beacon.]
[Not hard at all to spot, not really. How many humans (who aren't elderly, anyway) have silver hair? Fenris meets him at the entrance, offering him a (slightly awkward) wave and a little nod. He's curious about demons that can disguise themselves as humans, but one thing at a time. He draws back, allowing Dante in. And it's . . .
Quite the mess, frankly. Most of the roof overhead has fallen through; the walls are relatively intact, as are the supports, but the floor has as many tiles cracked and missing as it does intact ones. It's easy to see which rooms Fenris lives in: they're the only ones with any sign of life. Two bedrooms (one looking more like a guest room than anything); another, far homier one, where a fire blazes even now.]
I can take you up to the roof, but it may just be easier to look up.
[God, please help him.]
. . . I— it will take a while. If you wish to reconsider . . .
[Not many humans, which begs the question as to how human Dante actually is or if it is some sort of variation. And Dante tends to, conveniently, leave out the fact that his appearance is related to the former as he can easily pass by choice and by the limitations of this world.
Stepping into the manor the assessment was right, it was a mess, but observing from the outside Dante already knew that and signed on anyway. One thing they didn't have to worry about was footings and foundation, that was already taken care of.]
You know I don't think I've ever been in a home with a skylight before [Dante said looking up at the aforementioned roof and it's many holes an amused grin on his face, but he did not appear daunted by the work.
He glanced Fenris's way, it's obvious that the task is overwhelming or maybe he's never done anything quite like this before.]
Back down from a job? It couldn't be me. [Dante chuckled good-naturedly before circling the room, testing the footing and the framing, everything was solid all things considered and anything that wasn't could be replaced.] All you need is an attack strategy, I think that's the hardest part. You've got the foundation, the bones, and the land--you're halfway there. The first step is clearing the area. Nature is encroaching so if we clear that out we can haul the debris from the manor and sort through what can be used and what goes.
[A few steps at a time sounds easier than trying to tackle everything at once anyway.]
[There's a small huff of laughter at that joke, Fenris' eyes rising to take in the sight. The skylight-née-hole-in-the-ceiling has been a misery this winter, truthfully, but he'll be glad to have it closed before too many birds can come swooping in.]
If you say so.
[It's not a snotty answer; rather, a clear deference to experience. Fenris glances where Dante does, vaguely taking note of his assessment.]
Most of it can be thrown out. None of it is mine, save for two or three rooms I use.
[A small bathroom, his own room, and a guest bedroom.]
You're free to take what you want, if anything catches your eye. Though given most of these are old portraits and crates of moth-eaten clothing, perhaps not.
[And you know, there's no time like the present, so:]
Anything that's usable we can put back into the manor, if you don't want it, you could probably donate it...[Dante paused to brush some dust off of a portrait hanging on the wall]...except for this, no one's gonna to want this. Hard to tell if it's the painter or the subject, but this guy looks like he was born with a stick rammed up his ass.
[To which he pulls the portrait down and hammer throws it right out of the open door.]
We'll call that the burn pile for everything that deserves to go up in smoke.
[To which all of the portraits will likely end up being heaped onto.]
For anything you don't want but it might have some use to someone...[Dante says opening a trunk filled with said motheaten clothing]...throw it on the meh pile.
[The trunk gets tossed out of a nearby window, sorry Fenris, this is absolutely chaotic.]
Anything that's still good?
[Dante picks up a floor tile, give is the old bush off, it looks like it could fit right back into place.]
It's a keeper pile.
[To which he places it neatly in the center of the large room they are currently in.]
Edited (i know how html works sometimes.) 2022-04-24 13:54 (UTC)
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[He's learning, slowly but surely, not to take anything for granted when it comes to hearing about other worlds. If this man is from another world; he may well just be a particularly strange man from Thedas. Who can say!]
no subject
[Few and far between, but it happens.
And at that Dante rounds the corner to the path leading to Fenris's manor, he's not difficult to spot if one is looking, like a tall, red beacon.]
no subject
Quite the mess, frankly. Most of the roof overhead has fallen through; the walls are relatively intact, as are the supports, but the floor has as many tiles cracked and missing as it does intact ones. It's easy to see which rooms Fenris lives in: they're the only ones with any sign of life. Two bedrooms (one looking more like a guest room than anything); another, far homier one, where a fire blazes even now.]
I can take you up to the roof, but it may just be easier to look up.
[God, please help him.]
. . . I— it will take a while. If you wish to reconsider . . .
no subject
Stepping into the manor the assessment was right, it was a mess, but observing from the outside Dante already knew that and signed on anyway. One thing they didn't have to worry about was footings and foundation, that was already taken care of.]
You know I don't think I've ever been in a home with a skylight before [Dante said looking up at the aforementioned roof and it's many holes an amused grin on his face, but he did not appear daunted by the work.
He glanced Fenris's way, it's obvious that the task is overwhelming or maybe he's never done anything quite like this before.]
Back down from a job? It couldn't be me. [Dante chuckled good-naturedly before circling the room, testing the footing and the framing, everything was solid all things considered and anything that wasn't could be replaced.] All you need is an attack strategy, I think that's the hardest part. You've got the foundation, the bones, and the land--you're halfway there. The first step is clearing the area. Nature is encroaching so if we clear that out we can haul the debris from the manor and sort through what can be used and what goes.
[A few steps at a time sounds easier than trying to tackle everything at once anyway.]
no subject
If you say so.
[It's not a snotty answer; rather, a clear deference to experience. Fenris glances where Dante does, vaguely taking note of his assessment.]
Most of it can be thrown out. None of it is mine, save for two or three rooms I use.
[A small bathroom, his own room, and a guest bedroom.]
You're free to take what you want, if anything catches your eye. Though given most of these are old portraits and crates of moth-eaten clothing, perhaps not.
[And you know, there's no time like the present, so:]
We can begin now, if it suits you.
no subject
[To which he pulls the portrait down and hammer throws it right out of the open door.]
We'll call that the burn pile for everything that deserves to go up in smoke.
[To which all of the portraits will likely end up being heaped onto.]
For anything you don't want but it might have some use to someone...[Dante says opening a trunk filled with said motheaten clothing]...throw it on the meh pile.
[The trunk gets tossed out of a nearby window, sorry Fenris, this is absolutely chaotic.]
Anything that's still good?
[Dante picks up a floor tile, give is the old bush off, it looks like it could fit right back into place.]
It's a keeper pile.
[To which he places it neatly in the center of the large room they are currently in.]