Pirates. They are pirates. No mercy, no rules. Morals always sat within the sea of grey, swimming and blending - nothing was right and nothing was wrong. They are pirates. Stealing was part of their culture, pillaging and setting fire to homes was in their nature. Sometimes deaths just had to happen. Pirates, his mind repeats again and again: they are pirates. Bakugou had always had a violent nature. He was aggressive with his words, threatening because he couldn't control his impulses, the anger which fueled his fire. He said things that shouldn't be said. He told others to die, the vanish or save themselves. All he wanted to do was fight, let the adrenaline take over, the excitement run wild. And yet, strangely enough, he still didn't know how to feel about captures. His emotions told him that they were acceptable, he was bitter and angry, he wanted revenge against the dull Pittians for having messed with them in the first place. Even if they hadn't done anything, he wanted them all to perish for having an association with the group in the first place, turning a blind eye to what was happening. But at the same time, his conscience, the part of him who wanted to be a force of good, knew that it only made them as bad as The Pitt. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. It made so much and so little sense at the same time that his brain simply felt detached by the situation when he saw Feliks dragging a poor captive into The Typhoon.

Go back to your cabins. His heart skipped a beat. He felt his own body was splitting into three, all confused about how to feel, conflicting and contrasting with one another. His heart was antithetical to his conscience, his brain didn't want one bit of the drama going on inside. Somehow, Bakugou forced himself to stay. The Reaver took a seat, ashes rising into the air as his fur rustled against the wind. He puts a paw over his nose, making a fanning motion as his lips curled into a nasty smile. "How do you stand the smell?" he snarks, tail curling behind him. His sanguine eyes scan the creature with a burning gaze, hot enough that it was chilling when a wave of nonchalance spread across his features. He felt indifferent, both his emotions and feelings subsiding because they had exhausted themselves, leaving his mind to let himself calm down and assess the feline's form. "Well, Feliks, entertain me." He was waiting for the captured male to yelp something weak, perhaps cry that they were innocent, or try to convince them that they weren't bothered with pain at all. If it was the second, Bakugou wondered who would be the first to lose their patience and beat the other without any restraints.

© LEXASPERATED

He'd always considered himself a force of good but in this world, the grey area consumed the earth like a cloak, an unbreakable veil. There were no heroes and no villains. Despite that, he couldn't imagine the day he would kill or torture someone for the sake of it. Maybe if it were for revenge or a good cause (because Bakugou often found himself doing difficult deeds) but never for the purpose of actual entertainment. And yet his words had left his maw, the male urging the griffon to entertain him, holding his opinions back because the one who had technically sided with the 'villains' was Bakugou. Right and wrong were lines that intertwined, blurring at the ends, unclear of what belonged to what. He found himself beginning to accept such circumstances, bitter gaze drawn towards the captive. For now, he didn't exactly have the 'heart' to participate himself. All he knows is that he could turn the Pittian into a punching bag if he was angry enough but his fire was out cold, only coal left behind, shrouded in black smoke. He knows that in time he will come to embrace this dilemma, finally own a resolve, and he knew that he was being thrown onto a path that no longer meant anything. It was a foolish decision to say that he was still a hero, but he also knew that he wasn't evil. The Typhoon wasn't a force of chaos. They were merely pirates being pirates.

He could have expected dragons to appear like vultures, one of them being the returning member Argus who he still didn't know how he felt about. He usually thought the mythical beasts to be untrustworthy because of their sheer strength. Why would they need to follow others when the world was open to their grasp? His sanguine gaze soon drifts towards that of Luciferus, also offering to assist in injuring the other. Bakugou doesn't say anything, instead finding that The Typhoon were all approaching the torture session like flies on dead meat, eyes hovering towards Goldenluxury - heart filled with revenge. He curses quietly. From the sounds of it, The Pitt were trying to snatch the bengal back into Stryker's claws. Those rotten bastards. He merely glares at Leopard. "Even if you said no we're still going to torture you, dumbass." The ragdoll huffs before clenching his teeth together, molars sitting in their grooves as he twitches an ear at Seamus. He wasn't too sure about the 'masochist' statement. Others made bullshit lies all the time when the time came it but he doesn't say anything about the comment, snorting at Feliks' comment about his smell. He was used to his stench so he didn't argue about it, merely observing the way the griffon then proceeded to give the Pittian the 'time of his life'.