He's been staring at his collection of bones for a while now, gaze burning in their glinting direction and unsure of what to do with them. He thinks briefly of his own bone accessories which he had bought from that sunhaven merchant, the one who made wonders out of the ivory material. The necklaces which lined beneath his throat, danging when the privateer moved swiftly from one work bench to another, working tirelessly to skin and clean his hunt. Earrings, coated in a deep red, loop effortlessly from his two ears. The initial piercing, he remembers, was a mild pain that was quickly forgotten in the same way it felt to restlessly work with stone and metal all night and day. And yet, despite the works appearing before him and Bakugou knowing what the finished product would look like, the ragdoll could not seem to figure out how to replicate such accessories. It frustrated him. He thought it must have been simpler considering his understanding of blacksmithing, picking it up by seeing unfinished works and a few inferences, but alas it was harder and much more delicate than he came to realise. Bakugou was not delicate, he was anything but delicate and gentle.

The ragdoll freezes when he hears the knocking on his door, unaccustomed to visitors. The last time someone came around, or at least the last time he remembers, it was Goldenluxury who came by to make curry with him. No one has really come around to knock on this particular door as this was still a new home for him, still a place he was growing used to. He only remembers handing out free weaponry. Knowing that he can't stand here for any longer than he already has, the privateer turns around to check who had knocked the door only to see two figures before him. Kirishima and a stranger he's never formally met. "The fuck?"