Re: [log: antique store - daniel/claire/louis]
Louis had never looked like the sort of creature who could occupy space as he had for the last few minutes, filling the room with dry power and the self-possession of a God, at least until just at the end, when the thing's resolve briefly wavered. Now, with it hiding again, it seemed all the more impossible that he could frighten anyone under any circumstances. He was all elbows, long fingers and soft curls. What blood there was in him was vinegary, sharp, and appeared only under duress. A god of war and plagues in a shell so narrow felt absurd, particularly to him. It made no sense.
But it was, and he was tired. He felt his narrowness, after that display - tired, thin. "I'll just sit for a moment," he said. He wasn't unwell - if anything he looked a little more flush and hale than he had before the god's appearance - but tired, positively.
Claire was kind, but it didn't take a very long look to see her distrust. He looked to Daniel instead. "I would prefer not to vacate my body," he said. "If such a thing can be avoided." He was holding it together as best he could, but there was no hiding it - thinking about it had given him full-blown panic. Maybe even enough to send the deity away.
"I need - an agreement. Or control," he added, right hand squeezing into a fist against the couch cushions. "Whatever it takes, I can do it. But I can't be a danger to anyone, and I can't go on this way."