Luca had never outgrown his hatred for his family. In fact, like a wound left to fester he only seemed to grow angrier over time. his father was no lord, although he sure held himself like one. He wanted all of his sons to become strong and honorable, people that could bring pride to their lowly poor family. Luca had always felt like the least favourite. He was weaker than his siblings, frail and feminine. His father only ever gave him looks of disapproval, although he supposed that those were common to even the strongest of his brothers. Nothing could please Santiago other than himself. Elias came pretty close though. Luca had always looked up to the eldest of the group. He enjoyed the protection that Elias offered from the harsh words of their father, the fact that he could cower away in the larger boy's shadow while words were spoken in his defence. It was a shame that a figure who once offered so much comfort was now a source of constant fear.

It was unfair how quickly his family turned on him once he made the deal and his soul was converted into a demon's flame. He was still himself, but anything he tried to say to convey that fell on deaf ears. He tried to explain to him that he was the same, although everyone involved knew that his words weren't entirely true. His time away from the family had changed him for the worse, and that was the only reason he was able to end up doing what he did. Much like Caesar, he set fire to his parents. They weren't his main targets, merely caught in the spreading flames from when he burned down the place that was holding him captive, although he would by lying if he said he wasn't hoping for that. As far as he knew, his mother died that night, but his father had managed to live. His brothers... they were a mystery to the coffee coloured canine. Elias was still around for sure; he was reminded almost constantly that he was being hunted by his oldest brother.

Sebastian didn't have to worry too much about appearing composed. Anyone would look like they had things together when compared to the bloody and beaten Luca. The incubus appeared shortly after Caesar, his eyes alight with curiosity as the drew closer to the pair. The sound of the bell at the clan's entrance almost always meant a joiner, and they were pretty interesting more often that not. New faces were good. They meant new chances, new opportunities to trick people into thinking he could be pleasant to be around. That last thought stung him a little, but he shook it off and distracted himself by examining the collie on the rails. He appeared to be injured- blood was always easy to spot against white. "Do you need medical attention?" He said, speaking up a little suddenly after quite a few beats of silence. The smell of blood seemed to hang around him lately. He scratched idly at one of his many forming scars, waiting for an answer to see if he had to run off and fetch someone with medical experience. Someone other than himself, that is.

Bakugou was still healing from his wounds – wounds that still ached and stung, terribly reminding him of his sorry encounter. She was predictable, but the point still stood that she was simply better than him, far more gifted and capable that he suffered a humiliating defeat. He nearly died in the Typhoon’s own territory, had to be saved by another pirate who was no more ‘gifted’ than he was. It frustrates him more than anything, more than the way he died in the other world, his world. He was covered in bandages, like alabaster pythons coiling and constricting against his skin. They were all over his legs, around his neck, his tail, his body; they were physical reminders of his failure and inability. Truthfully, it hurts to walk. Walking sends shockwaves to his spine and he can still feel left over toxins circling his bloodstream, making it harder to breathe every time he pushes himself a little too far. It’s exhausted him to the point that Bakugou stopped his training completely, putting a halt to his objective of mastering his fire elementals and physical combat. He doesn’t fully appreciate this yet, the same way he never quite appreciated his mother's tough love in the other world, but his injuries have proved beneficial for his development and adjustment into his new life and body. He spent more time wandering the bay, recognizing incongruities that materialized every so often. He paid more attention, took more notes and was able to put face to reputation.

Despite that, he still loathed being out of combat. He wants more in life than socialization and politics and so, desperate to escape the usual time-repeating days, he slips out of camp and has a walk. Naturally, Bakugou’s injuries have only allowed him to go so far as to walk down the beach and back again but in this moment of time, he felt an adventurous spirit possess his tired legs. He wants to go a little further this time, see if anything has changed in the forests. Maybe the birds will be different, or maybe the earth will have shifted just a millimeter. His ribs shudder when a breeze screams past, spectral in its very nature, whilst the ragdoll looks to the sky. He scrunches his nose and squints his eyes at the harsh light which creaked through the leaves. The world looked a little grey. Perhaps it was going to rain, and he briefly considers going back to shelter when he hears the reverberations of a bell from the railroad gate. Loud, discomforting to his ears – but it also makes him wonder if this is the first time he has ever heard a stranger use them. He was aware that they were there, but it was only after he had joined. He almost thought they were for decoration until he saw the wind swinging the golden beauties.

There were two reasons those bells could be ringing, Bakugou considers to himself. The first was that there was a stranger at the border who had business with The Typhoon. They either planned to join or it was something political maybe. The second could be that someone was testing the bells, seeing if they worked…or maybe they were ringing the ones that woke the slumber of angry, slithering mambas. Although he hopes it is the second, he assumes the first reason was most likely. It was for that deduction that Bakugou began to move towards the sound of the bell, his motivations resembling similarly to that of a moth fluttering too closely to the crackle of a hearth. He was walking as fast as he could be bothered. To be frank, joinings mean very little to him. It meant more faces for him to learn and more background characters he had to at least mildly care about. As he learnt very quickly, he couldn’t go around declaring that everyone was disposable. Some Typhooners didn’t like that kind of thinking and such words always hindered his ability to integrate smoothly into the island-dwelling life.

It was after losing count of the number of tracks he had counted, Bakugou arrives to see the canine waiting at the entrance. He didn’t have to travel far so he comes in time to see the collie attempt to groom out his features, adjust his aesthetic so that he doesn’t look like an utter disgrace to have walked the earth. Of course, the tabby is not so impressed, cocking a figurative brow towards the male figure. He is about to go through his usual 'the fuck do you want' speech but he clamps his maw shut upon recognising two other Typhooners, noting that they had beat him to it. Hah, well, it wasn't as if he was in any rush to get here. He was just here because he heard the bell and walked over. ”Oi, shithead,” he calls out, walking towards him with a daring stance. Bakugou, of course, doesn’t look intimidating at all. He’s like an Egyptian mummy, covered in bandages and walking stiffly from the stings of his bites and scratches. Still, the male continues without any attempt to adjust his attitude. ”Since y’like ringin’ bells – go ring the other bell.” He points to the one near the basket containing black mambas, a sickening grin upon his amused face, daring him. Of course, it was pretty obvious that to do so was to face serious repercussions. It pretty much said so by the conspicuous nature of his words and the aura of malice that laces his expression. If he were to be honest, he doesn’t expect the stranger to be stupid enough to do it. He was almost…indirectly congratulating the male for having at least half a brain to not ringing the other bell.