He isn't afraid of using knives. The manipulation of the blade was simple to him, to have the edge strike along the lines of meat or vegetables. Cooking, however, is different to simply slicing and stabbing ingredients. He doesn't like creating meals and dishes so he usually eats what can be considered a lazy excuse for dinner and lunch. Bakugou usually goes out hunting for certain kind of skins, leaving the left over meat to be charred before eating. Some days he won't even leave his house, relying on left overs whilst he smiths his hours away. While Goldenluxury finds peace in cooking, Bakugou enjoys metal crafts - the creation of weapons for the sake of it. Ironic how the young Quartermaster is repelled from the idea of using swords and daggers in battle but will waste away creating them, perfecting sheen and surface of his creations, engraving text through a series of cuts and picks. There is a calmness that swims between every strike, the strength of his production, the expulsion of emotions that explode into sparks and embers. Blacksmithing. There was a mutual relationship he had with it. In return for his effort and time, his exterior may harden like stone.

He notices the thick smell of food before he realises the array of foods dappled along the bay, sanguine eyes looking towards the bengal who calls out. A feast. He realises they are all spoilt. There is always plenty of food for the taking but Bakugou doesn't mind. It is different to what he usually consumes, the ragdoll quietly approaching as his eyes waft over CCLIV's form and flicker to Goldenluxury. She is always working hard, she is deserving of her position. Lately the male has been either drawn into aggression or too quiet, hardly doing anything useful. It was frustrating to be in this position but if Bakugou were to suddenly force everything his way, it would be tyranny. He is stuck this way, holding on for the sake of being worthy of his own presence. He doesn't want to fade, he doesn't want to be overlooked. "Any particular reason for the feast, Goldie?" the male rumbles curiously, raising a paw as he hovers it over drinks. 'The martini is gorgeous.' Bakugou's fur rises slightly, eyes narrowing when he physically freezes. The feline pulls his gaze away. He doesn't drink and yet the names of different alcohols were all coming to mind, as if they had pre-existed within his brain. "You did a good job as always though." A compliment because she deserves it.

© LEXASPERATED