WALKING WITH GIANTS - open; moving in

[rhosmari]

[align=center]

[glow=#000,1,400]FILL ME UP WITH NOVOCAINE AND NOW I'M JUST NUMB — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

[div style="width: 480px; height: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 13px;"]It had been a few days, a few long and dreary days and he has yet to find himself a place to stay. Perhaps it was his mild shyness but he just hadn’t had the courage to go into the bay area  and actually find himself a place to stay so he had been living underneath a large fern plant. It had provided him with enough protection until it decided to rain or rather if he was being honest with himself an outright downpour that left him drenching wet. It had been a rather taxing night and it was what prompt him to actually make his way into civilization and try to find a solid place to make his own. Location hardly matter considering he wouldn’t be able to see the lovely view of the ocean any time or ever really. Despite that though he would love to hear the sounds of the ocean when he woke up in the morning or did his late night hunting for snacks. The problem was though, which homes were already taken? A rough sigh left the white canine’s muzzle as he debated over the possible scenarios he could get into and most of them were not positive but he forced himself to start walking. If he didn’t try now he would most likely back out and end up napping under his fern again and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

Soft pink stained paws moved forward across the sands and he angled his ears forward to get a better grasp of what was in front of him. The lighting from the sun seemed skewed in his vision and caused him to squint as he went along, brushing his paws against the ground and gently rubbing his body against the sides of buildings. Or at least he hoped they were buildings. There was a singular home he had been squinting at and as he approached he lightly knocked his paws against the steps, gauging how high each step was so that he didn’t trip over himself. Unfortunately for him when he attempted to enter the home as he thought it was empty he was met with heated words that caused him to stumble back. ”Ah, wait, no, I was jus-,” But the sound of wind made him flinch and instinctively he closed his pale eyes as something hard smashed against his muzzle. The sound of a pop filled his ears and he whined twisting and stumbling but must falling down the steps. The male didn’t stop till he was a good ways away from the home and he opened his eyes to see a blurry darkness on the edge of his vision. Though he was hurting more than anything. What had they even thrown at him? Lifting a paw he felt along his nose, wincing at the slight break and finally feeling the wetness dripping from his nostrils. Oh... he was bleeding and he flicked his tongue to swipe it against his nose, lapping up the clear fluid before he sighed. ”That was rather unnecessary. I guess I’ll just keep looking.” It was really all he could do and he turned his head to the side, cropped ears perked up slightly.

[no more]

[align=center][div style="width:450px; font-size:7.9pt;line-height:1.2;font-family:arial;margin-top:3px;margin-bottom:3px;letter-spacing:.5px;margin-left:0px;text-align:justify;"]“Do you need help...” Soft words toned with uncertainty rising from lips barely parted about each syllable. Rather than the lilt of a question posing want for explanation it broke apart, silence filling the space as it faded, uneasy quirk to shaky lips. It is little more than a facade, joy caught within the small smile never finding place within dark eye, a mask they bare for what else if left if they allow the world to see what turmoil plays amongst the static of empty mind. They know well there is no need for such, the state of eyes that gaze upon a world uncaring to his plight clear, clouded until the filter of minimal light is all he may witness, but it is safe and familiar.

They remember well their own struggle with finding a place, one which seemed to hold no end, a thought present in the back of their mind in moments they are left to their own devices. It is such, the beat of heart and the static of empty thought, which drove them here, seeking the company of one they thought interesting. Many present held an air about them, something speaking of anger and pain, a shallow feeling of hatred hidden amongst those frayed threads, few able, or caring, to hide it. Amongst it all he is soft, a gentle warmth about him that draws Sil as though they were nothing more than a moth at the beck and call of the flame, drawing all too close, never caring of the pain to be inflicted.

Small paw reaches up, seeks to gently press against muzzle. No crimson was present, wash of liquid hinting at break caused by impact, an object they had barely seen, left to ricochet off Latterday into the distance. “Are you hurt?” Faint note of hardness, no room for argument to speak against it, wanting only an answer.

[rhosmari]

[align=center]

[glow=#000,1,400]FILL ME UP WITH NOVOCAINE AND NOW I'M JUST NUMB — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

[div style="width: 480px; height: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 13px;"]Surprise pulled across a once pained face as soft words entered into his slightly pulled back ears. His head lowered just slightly out of habit, eyes down cast even as he attempted to locate the place of where the voice had come from. It had sounded young, perhaps a child and he allowed his pinkish purple eyes to roam over the area before he noticed a soft blob right in front of him. The question of needing help had went unanswered for a while and he swallowed thickly, tongue running over sharp teeth before he gave a light sigh that seemed to pull from deep within him. Already he was tired but that was because of some sleepless nights and being drenched from heavy rains that kept him up at night. "I suppose so, although I wouldn't want to trouble you.." Uncommon for a child to ask to help someone but then again not all children were alike. A smile quirked up against his pale colored peach lips before he angled his head back up a little bit. Although he wasn't able to move his head that much before small paws touched him against his muzzle. It caused a small wince to twitch the muscles in his face before he forced himself to relax.

It hurt but the pain didn't compare to others he had had in his life. The pain of being reborn was one of them, an experience he wouldn't want to wish on anyone. "It's nothing. Just a scratch I think." Such a pitiful lie but it was too soon, much too soon for him to be seen as a burden among the other Typhooners. He could help himself and the small break of his nose wouldn't set him back. The doberman allowed his head to lift up then out of the reach of the child so that he could prove his point of it being nothing. Not a deterrent for what he was after and what he was trying to do now. "I've been spending the day looking for a home. You could help me with that if you want, um..." Blinking he realized that he didn't have the other's name and he felt bad, frowning and lowering his ears slightly. "Sorry, I don't have your name. Mine is Latterday. Latterday Roux."

[Grey]

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.