[ Danse doesn't know how the hell to go about ceasing to be a twelve-foot-tall monster with teeth the length of ballpoint pens, now that the form is less useful and more "how do I get in a car like this if it doesn't wear off."
Now that the danger has passed, though, and his heart rate has slowed, and he's able to actually think about these things rather than focusing on the heat of battle, his body seems to have mercy on him. He shrinks, gradually, the transformation as inherently painless as it was before, though it doesn't make his limbs less clawed-up. His clothing is more astonishingly intact than the laws of physics would seem to allow, save for some new bloodstains and a zipper that's given up the ghost. His stomach feels like he hasn't eaten anything for a solid week.
He slides down against the truck now that his form is more convenient for it, sitting down on the ground and pushing his sweaty hair back from his face. ]
No need for thanks. We all benefited.
[ His voice is hoarse, oddly rusty-sounding, as if it's been longer since he's spoken aloud than it actually has, but at least it's his again. He tilts his head to scan over Arcade's injuries, predictably ignoring his own. ]
You got those?
[ Looks like it, but it seems worth asking anyway. They've all been lucky enough so far not to have to find out what happens when the sole physician can't heal himself, and he'd like that streak to continue. ]
no subject
Now that the danger has passed, though, and his heart rate has slowed, and he's able to actually think about these things rather than focusing on the heat of battle, his body seems to have mercy on him. He shrinks, gradually, the transformation as inherently painless as it was before, though it doesn't make his limbs less clawed-up. His clothing is more astonishingly intact than the laws of physics would seem to allow, save for some new bloodstains and a zipper that's given up the ghost. His stomach feels like he hasn't eaten anything for a solid week.
He slides down against the truck now that his form is more convenient for it, sitting down on the ground and pushing his sweaty hair back from his face. ]
No need for thanks. We all benefited.
[ His voice is hoarse, oddly rusty-sounding, as if it's been longer since he's spoken aloud than it actually has, but at least it's his again. He tilts his head to scan over Arcade's injuries, predictably ignoring his own. ]
You got those?
[ Looks like it, but it seems worth asking anyway. They've all been lucky enough so far not to have to find out what happens when the sole physician can't heal himself, and he'd like that streak to continue. ]