He wishes that whatever was affecting him was just a cold or a fever, perhaps even just a sign his body needed rest. It was quick, however, to tell him otherwise when his cells begun to rearrange himself. Every part of his body repulsed by the idea of existing, wishing to evaporate into an abyss. When they made up their mind to go, disappear and tear themselves apart, suddenly they change their mind. They smash back into each other, zipping back and forth in multiple planes unable to decide what they wanted to be. He wouldn't mind it if his neurons weren't screaming all the time. If there wasn't any pain, maybe he would be fine with simply vanishing. Sure, there are plenty of things he still must complete in this world but maybe, because of the groggy influence of painkillers and the constant pain of his situation, Bakugou finds comfort in disappearing. He remembers, since first arriving in this world, he used to be afraid of sleeping. He was scared that if he closed his eyes for too long, he would return to nothingness - the state of both life and death where Bakugou's own mind was put to a close, forgetting his own existence and forgetting the very meaning. It is natural for him to be afraid of the dark, the dark where he has been drawn into the unknown and forever lost in a void of energy. Nowadays, his numbness only makes him tired and irritable.

A sneeze.

So normal yet so suspicious to the lightfurred reaver whose sanguine eyes immediately snap towards the source's direction. A smell in the air, one that seemed to belong to an enemy. Bakugou had gone out of his way to remember the smells of different groups, note their relation to The Typhoon after he had so poorly represented the island in front of the Captain. He couldn't help himself. He just wanted to voice his opinion and his anger got the best of him. Damn anger. But, upon seeing the canine seated calmly at the border, Bakugou senses every reason to be angry. And yet it was those damn painkillers that made it hard for the male to consciously form a snarl upon his face, far too tired to express just about anything. His whiskers wriggle at the male's scent again, the scent of Ascendants clinging to his skin like a vengeful ghost. "I'll give you five seconds to explain why the fuck you're 'ere," the reaver snarls. The Ascendants and The Typhoon are enemies, he reminds himself. Maybe there is some current neutrality between them but as of this moment, the male doesn't care. All he wants to do is out his anger, his frustrations, his pain towards this stranger for merely being present at this time of day.

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Luca had always thought that clan politics was stupid. He liked to form opinions on individuals rather than groups, but maybe that's because he always used to be a traveller. He was new to settling down long term, trying to be loyal to a whole group rather than a select few people. It sucked. He hated following rules for the sake of following them. The hellhound trotted forwards after sensing a commotion, the tension drawing him in like a moth to a flame. He arrived shortly after Pincher, catching his leader's words and then the stranger's reply. It was easy to tell what was going on from that short snippet of the conversation, and Luca's good eye flickered from Victor to his captain and then back again. "That should be fine, I think," Luca said, tilting his head. He turned his gaze back to Pincher one final time. "Is that fine? I think it's fine." He always appreciated new faces. It would be a shame if this guy left before Luca managed to get a good taste of his aura. He turned his head to sneer subtly at Owen as the raptor tamer approached, lip twitching ever so slightly to reveal venom-coated fangs. "Shuddup, you, leave em' alone."

© LEXASPERATED