"Boss. Pal. Big guy. Alpha dog. King Poseidon. Whatever." Deacon's not picky... as long as he gets to give his colleagues little nicknames.

One thing's for sure, he will absolutely encourage the packing of extra clothing for Danse, next time. The squishy sound his feet are making against the slimy floor is making Deacon's skin crawl. And forget stealth.

Danse mentions the scaffolding and Deacon merely glances up at it, and makes a sound somewhere between a nervous squeak and the sound of being sick.

"Me? Climb up there? Haha... aaaah, I'm not that insane." He looks back at Danse. "Cannonball?"