They aren't going far, so Zerxus doesn't mind pausing to throw an archly sceptical glance over his shoulder. "Is fighting off gods a common hobby where you're from, then?"

He doesn't wait for a response before he keeps moving, leading them towards plain sliding door. Well, as plain as anything gets in a palace made of black gold-veined marble.

"We're around the same size, so..." With a light push, he shoves the door open and reveals a wardrobe that's -

Well. It sure won't do anything to make a depression-era kid to feel more at home, and something about Zerxus's grimace says he recognised something in Steve's expression, back there.

"Some people call him a god of indulgence. He isn't, but isn't hard to see where they're getting it from."