One can say that he is ungrateful. He doesn't realise what he has, the gifts that he's been given. He could be given the power to destroy worlds but still complain he is not strong enough, still train himself to be more than what he was created to be. He knows there is first raw talent. Bakugou is a natural in combat. The sense of battle flows within him, circling his bloodstream. Even though there is raw talent, he must allow it to manifest through hard work, determination and struggle. He will perfect himself. Others can say he is no more but another fool, pitiful because he was unable to realise what he had due to a strong lack of self-awareness. He drowns in a superiority complex, desiring to better himself above others and needing that sense of empowerment and success. That way, no one can look down on him. His feelings of being unloved and unwanted can be washed away through fear and brute strength. They can't get rid of him if they need him. It therefore makes him wonder how medics felt. Did they realise the true power they all possessed within the chasms of their minds? They were able to save and kill life, a temple of knowledge to serve as either a sanctuary or murder chamber of bodies.

An illness that cannot be helped, cannot be stopped with the touch of a black mamba. Does it make them feel useless? How would it feel to surround your entire life in protecting life, embodying all this knowledge, and being unable to treat and certain kind of sickness no matter how hard you tried? The worse thing for him would be to be unable to fight. It was all he ever trained for. Even his blacksmithing had a purpose to build up strength and endurance, to create weapons and understand their deadliest points. Bakugou feels himself shudder from the cold. Winter is coming and he knows in his old life it used to give him difficulties with his quirk. Although his body usually confined high temperatures, he could feel his heat radiating to the colder climate around him. It made him feel cold because his body never tried to constrict the heat in his body and he was losing his temperature fast, draining from the ghostly weather. Luckily, he didn't feel as if he was going to freeze to death. His fireplace was blaring, eating at the short cut of logs whilst the rain continued to pour outside of his hut. If he decides to put conscious effort into it, he will begin to feel warmer in no time. '

He is about to eat his ramen when he notices a pale form walking past the window of his hut, a blur because of the droplets that obscured the frame. The steam of his food materialises in front of him and Bakugou shakes his head, deciding to put his food aside. He hasn't added the noodles to the broth just yet, deciding to leave his ramen aside. He can heat it up later, deciding to throw in a few more chili flakes before opening the door of his hut. He heads out into the elements, water drizzling down his pelt, his flaming tail still flickering as it always did. Due to the rain, one could see his actual tail appearing within the drowning fire which coated and wrapped around it. Bakugou stops for a moment, standing beneath the extended roof of another hut and lazily rubbing his wet eyes. Where had that angel gone? He wonders, after all, just what that male was doing outside. These were the kinds of days it was better to stay indoors, watch the rolling tides from afar. The sky was dark with with his fire being plummeted by the rain, he can only offer little light against the greyness of the unhappy clouds.

He hears a foreign language, accent similar to that of the many angels who came to inhabit The Typhoon's island. It must have been the holy tongue, ears rotating about to tune in on Junji's voice. Finally, his eyes see the soothsayer's form from afar. He is hesitant to approach at first, checking around for Luca but deciding the male must have been away or the fogginess of the land was obscuring his sight of him. Regardless, Bakugou approaches anyway. He doesn't understand what the two are saying but he can easily see that she is uncomfortable. For a moment he considers lifting stone from the earth, a thin layer that will shelter her from the rain as she is escorted to some room on the island. He assumes that whoever this was, after all, was seeking a place away from the rain and that the black mamba wished to help her. He was only trying to help with what Junji wanted because he respected that he was the only medic they had left. But, seeing as he might lose control or be unable to do such a feat, he decides to not try it. Instead he breaks a rock and creates something that resembles a lantern. The stone fragments aren't stuck together but instead held by his earth elementals as he lights a ball of fire within it, juggling his two abilities with intense concentration. The only purpose for the lantern-like shape was to keep the rain out of his flames so he could provide warmth. "D'ya think she might want this while you take her somewhere or whatever?" he asks with a slight hiss to his voice, trying not to lose too much focus in holding so many pieces together. He hasn't perfected using both powers at once.

[ ooc ] dw, you're good <33

A place to stay. Naturally, he would say no. He has always rejected the idea of visitors, hating how they were becoming a motel. It annoyed him every time he would tell a stranger to 'fuck off' only to be lectured by a more compassionate pirate, one who encouraged such visiting behaviours. It bothered him because The Typhoon was softening. They were becoming more civilised, no longer pirates. It made him feel a deep disappointment towards their island's nature. No wonder, he thinks, they've been struggling with all these injuries and captures. The Pitt was raining down on them and they hardly had any stand against it. After one raid, they were all busy healing, rejuvenating. Their numbers were thinning by the day. Perhaps the loss of their high population of black mambas was a sign of what was to come, an awful omen brimming in front of them. Even though Rosemary had returned, nothing was really looking quite the same. It all felt as if it was beginning to close in on itself. He felt as if the island was going to open and be destroyed, erasing the embarrassment they had become.

His teeth press together, the usual crisp sound of snapping air was overwhelmed by the noise of the rain. One night, only for one night. He still doesn't like it. He's waiting for Junji to butt in to the words Victor was saying. Bakugou wasn't going to defend the stranger anyway. He doesn't want to. "The problem is that she's here already," the Reaver says to the sled dog, raising his voice over the loudness of the weather. He doesn't care if Lucia catches his words but he was reluctantly explaining that they didn't really have much of a choice other than to reject her completely or give her a place to stay. There was no use in suggesting Sunhaven because it was clear that she wouldn't be able to leave the island without them physically picking her up and dropping her outside the border. "And this isn't the smartest of places to discuss membership when god's pissin' all over us." An alabaster breath leaves his body, heat quickly dispelling from the cold. He wants to tell her to fuck off but now that Victor had brought up the idea of trying to induct her into The Typhoon (quite forcefully in his opinion), he has to go along with it. Unfortunately there was a thick line between his duties as a Reaver and his feelings. "Can't we just figure these things out once we're in shelter?"

He was waiting for Junji to act on whatever of those foreign words he had said. He doesn't know the language but he can guess that the foolish soothsayer had probably offered his help already, too late for Victor to undo.

© LEXASPERATED