HEARTFELT PROMISES { .:*・°☆ } ——— [size=10pt]TAGS

For the past month he had been sick, sniffling, sneezing, coughing, literal mucus running down his nose and staining his perfect white and cream fur. He was like a literal ghost and had faded completely into the background, barely to be seen except at night where he would go out for the occasional meal and go straight back to resting. The male opened his eyes groggily as sunlight burst through the window of his shack, the waves louder than usual and frankly annoying him to the point he couldn't go back to sleep and forced to wake up. Huffing the king cheetah got to his paws and stretched out his lean frame, eyes opening to shift around the small dusty shack. He barely went out for sunlight or daylight anymore and frankly it had taken it's toll on him, making him look more pale like a ghost which was quite ironic considering he had been acting like one for the past month. Marcellus had nearly forced himself back into the bed to sleep some more, not wanting to leave but he had decided that a bit of daylight couldn't hurt and with how loud the waves were he wasn't going to be able to sleep again until later.

Slowly the male forced himself off of the broken down wooden bed, landing on the ground and moving to a dusty and rusted over nightstand in the end of his shack, grabbing onto his large golden necklace, slipping it on around his neck and feeling the weight nearly push him down to the floor. Usually he was able to handle the weight of his collar but frankly with his state he could barely keep his neck up, causing the male to feel sluggish and slouch his head. Huffing in annoyance, the male turned to begin leaving his residence only to be stopped by a sharp intake of air and then a tickle at the back of his throat, causing a large sneeze to escape his mouth. For a moment he stood their stunned, the strength of the sneeze leaving him dazed, but he quickly gathered himself and pushed open the wooden door, looking from side to side before pressing his paws into the sand. He had nearly forgotten what the texture of sand was like, hot and grainy around his paws, causing him for a moment to think he was having some kind of dream.

The king cheetah closed his eyes and opened them again, taking a few steps forward before he broke into a bout of coughing, sniffling heavily as he could feel his nose beginning to clog up until he could barely breathe through it. Marcel departed his jaws to breathe in from his mouth, making his way to the water as he lowered his head to lap it up, trying to soothe his slightly sore throat. His throat thankfully wasn't as sore as it was before but damn it still hurt like a bitch.

[ ooc ] thank you so much for saving my post <33

Becoming part of a backdrop was something Bakugou, strangely enough, was good at doing. He was as easy to momentarily forget as he was memorable. As much as the ragdoll was busy shouting and picking fights with the other crewmates, he was also quiet and antisocial. Most days, the male was hesitant in even approaching others to see what activities in The Typhoon were bubbling away. He may even feel overwhelmed by influxes of joinings or new faces, more names and voices that he will need to memorise. He's realised just how easy it is to become overshadowed by simply choosing to slow down. Closing his eyes makes it feel as if time speeds ahead of him, sprinting past his long fur and disappearing into a faraway distance that he doesn't even dare to chase after. It is those moments he becomes afraid of, the feeling of losing his grip of time and letting sand sift faster than he can even process. Even when he was healing from his injuries, Bakugou still found himself busier than ever. He begun exploring the traditions and customs of The Typhoon rather than go rogue and stalk the forests himself. It left him exhausted, the same way he felt after hours of training to the brink of his strength.

Although he was mostly healed by now, still only mildly inconvenienced by a few annoyingly positioned bandages around his limbs, the striker still finds himself lurking about the Barracuda Bay. His eyes, predatory, frequent themselves in flicking back and forth passing members. It therefore doesn't take long for his ears to rise, perking from a powerful sneeze. His fur that is usually resting against the back of his neck is standing. Bakugou says nothing at first when he then witnesses how the source, a king cheetah, recollects his bearings and walk into the sand only to begin hacking coughs and struggling to breathe. He can't help but feel a wave of annoyance at the male, not understanding why the pirate was even bothering to move. Tch. He supposes this only further supports that just because someone is older than another, doesn't mean they are wiser. The cheetah was reminding him an animated but uncoordinated zombie, a corpse struggling to come to turns that it was in fact not alive.

Upon seeing Marcellus (of whom he has yet to know the name of) begin to take a drink, his own legs start to carry Bakugou towards him. He imagines his own aura clashing against the Typhooner: the striker's aura being one of dreadful, black smoke and angst, while the other's aura radiating what must have been a putrid manifestation of a plague. It's as if he can see illness wound the air, tainting the atmosphere in a sickly tone, and dance a fatal waltz. Maybe it is Bakugou being paranoid. He isn't sure how his immune system will hold up considering he has only been in this world for a month or so. The ragdoll has no plans in becoming sick and stationed here against his will. He likes his freedom, his choice to explore. And so, like any other annoying teenager would do, he decides to speak his concerns: "If your gonna carry the bloody plague, at least take it to an enemy clan than pound your strands of sickness into every grain of sand on this fuckin' beach." But, to prove that he 'cares so deeply' for the well being of The Typhoon rather than to suggest that he is afraid of getting ill himself, he also adds a small greeting. "Name's Bakugou."

HEARTFELT PROMISES { .:*・°☆ } ——— [size=10pt]TAGS

[ No problem! ]

He might as well have been considered a zombie as he looked and acted like one, save for the green skin tone that zombies in movies and shows typically had. If his skin were to turn green he would probably freak out and never show his face in the Typhoon again.

Marcellus hadn't even realized that Bakugou was standing near him until he heard the spew of words come from the teenagers mouth. For a moment Marcel contemplated what he should say, if he should even say anything that is. The king cheetah took a few more gulps of water to cool his burning sore throat before he lifted his head to the ragdoll's height, running his tongue over his lips before he completely lifted his head and sat down in the sand. "I would if I wasn't so sick I could-" The males sentence was cut off by a cough that would probably send germs flying everywhere due to how strong it was. He held his breath for a few moments before continuing to speak his peace to the domestic feline. "stand to walk without wanting to collapse." He finished, voice low and raspy as he spoke. He wasn't annoyed or mad, but rather a bit amused as he looked at the teenager.

He knew that teenagers could be quite angsty at times but then again, adults like Marcel were no exception to this either. The king cheetah began to get to his paws fully to stand, stretching out his muscled frame as he soaked up the sun along his pelt, stretching out each one of his limbs that he could manage. His body felt stiff all over due to him not going on his used-to-be daily jogs, or practicing things like swimming. Him being bedridden for so long had it's toll on him and now he was pretty much paying the price in full. The male had nearly forgotten Bakugou was there while he was lost in his own thoughts, realizing he was still there when he spoke. Bakugou huh? Another new face that he would have to get to know and memorize, and to be frank he was really bad when it came to names. Marcel was surprised at himself that he remembered most the names correctly of those in the Typhoon, but being sick would definitely hinder those new abilities of his.

The king cheetah collapsed his entire body onto the beach sand, the sand sticking to his pelt as his entire body lied against the heated grains. "Marcellus." He answered back, a small smile making it's way onto his maw before he felt another cough build up, forcing it to escape the males mouth and out into the open. "Don't worry, I promise me and my sickness aren't deadly. Yet." An obvious joke. He tried to fill his tone with a more humorous one but it only came out as monotone as he didn't want.

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