Bakugou never really thought about how dreadful moving in could be. When he had first joined, a kind pirate who had never asked the name of, toured him around and showed him an assortment of empty houses to choose from. He moved in and it was easy, it was simple. Then, on another day, he was strolling about to find an old, dilapidated but still very alive hut with a working forge. It was empty, decorated with animal rugs but also had places for weaponry, a bonfire and everything he needed if he wanted to work on blacksmithing. It was almost too convenient...but that was the luckiest he's ever been in this world. Well, aside from the fact that he had been saved by the earth itself after Luca's attack. In many cases, Bakugou was a centrepiece of bad luck, swirling with negative energy that he wouldn't be surprised if he was suddenly struck by lightning. The universe will do just about anything to give him a bad time, but maybe this perspective was rather egotistical of him. He was imagining a world that centred specifically on the idea of making his life a living hell but that would suggest the world cared about him to begin with.

Bakugou's eyes aren't blind to the moving albino figure of the doberman, walking like a ghost that didn't know the time of day. He looks pitiful, as if he has nowhere else to be. He can't help but shift his attention to Sil's voice, speaking up and asking of Latterday needed any help. Help with what? He remembers the canine only joined not too long ago. Sometimes time had a way with him. It doesn't seem totally linear, as if it were mosaic and dynamic, constantly shifting and coiling. Time intertwines and changes. It's not a straight line - that's how it feels to him despite days progressing normally, as natural as it had been in that other world, his old world. Latterday Roux. He could have sworn that upon the doberman's joining he had never introduced his surname. "I didn't know you were a Roux," Bakugou mutters aloud, voice making it undecipherable if this comment was positive or negative. The delivery of his lines were monotonous in nature, simply remarking that it was an interesting fact for him to note. Chances were: he'd probably forget. He has a knack for remembering combat techniques or methods for blacksmithing but an awful memory for anything else. Nothing really seemed to be memorable to the Reaver.

"This is a dumb area too look for an empty house," the ragdoll then adds, deciding to actually be mildly helpful to the male. "They're all inhabited. You should try goin' a little down south." That was where his old house had been originally set up, the place where most newcomers seemed to stay. Sometimes, when it came to those annoying travelers The Typhoon always let stay, they were brought there. He's never really thought much about that row of houses otherwise, shuffing his bone necklaces with a paw as he sits idly in absent-minded thought. He's not really in the mood for tagging along the hunt for a home, figuring that Sil was better suited considering he doesn't seem to be as easily annoyed by everything as Bakugou was. "I'm going to -" his eyes are darting about, feeling that his presence here is rather useless "- go now unless ya need anything in particular. But I'm sure one is enough of a help." He points his tail at Sil to show that by 'one is enough' he meant them, choosing not to introduce the sage because he figured they would want to do it themself.

Bakugou stands up, about to take his leave but ready to turn around should Latterday want his help as well.