09-18-2018, 08:34 AM
Bakugou has a good list in his head, a list of weekly tasks he is willing to give out for everyone because he's never been the kind to improvise creative ideas. Well, this is outside the heat of battle, of course. The male had a knack for adapting into a situation, ensuring he knew exactly how to proceed and move on. That being said, the reaver simply can't resist the temptation to give Caesar such a shitty task. To be honest, he was waiting for the savannah to snarl at him, demand for a different task as his superior. He wouldn't have minded. His mind is too frazzled, boiling beneath the surges of pain which rise and fall from his stomach to oesophagus. And yet, to his surprise, the male replies: 'fine'. Bakugou watches the Officer turn around, walk off to do the task he had given him. Interesting. Maybe he now feels a little bad for tasking the savannah cat with a compliments booth but the ragdoll continues to remind himself of how amusing it will be in future. Besides, it might help for the other's reputation. He's disliked, considered a nuisance, always saying some kind of nasty comment to purposely ruin the days of others... a cue asking for compliments from the male would be more than amusing to watch, it could possibly be redeeming or bring about personal development.
These thoughts, however, are rudely interrupted by Owen. Flareon? Smoke rushes out of his nostrils, sanguine eyes ablaze when he looks towards the prehistoric beast. He's been aware of this male's...body change. Truthfully, he hates it. He hates all the feral creatures that inhabited the island. All he wants is for them to be caged, released should they be needed but otherwise pushed away from the chance of disrupting his day-to-day routine. He may hate Sunhaven but he hates it even more when things go out of control. He doesn't know why on earth Owen is blending in with the feral wildlife of The Typhoon but he has a job to do. All this extra stress isn't helping the fact this his cells and atoms have gone spastic, buzzing and unable to keep still. " [member=1310]OWEN.[/member] ," he says, doing nothing to sugarcoat his growl. The embers can be seen upon his tongue, fire-coated tail burning hot enough to injure and spread. Bakugou, quickly recognising this, takes a deep breath. His bristled fur subsides and, although still rather tense and rigid, looks far more relaxed than before. "Go host a 'Would You Rather' session." He is sure by the glare of daggers that Owen can deduce that he isn't fond of Owen's form.
Junji. The angel. The angel that seems to have something for Luca. He honestly can't see why but Bakugou cares very little for the romantic affairs of others. He's not old enough to bother on such tangents. The reaver thinks it's too rosey, too pink and colourful for him to step foot into just yet. A smile. Funny how it's the small things that catch him off guard. No one, no one other than Kirishima, ever gives him a polite gleam. Usually it's a smirk or a growl, something to condescend or express an irritation towards him. Well, he reminds himself, Junji hardly knows him. He hasn't interacted much with the winged male so time will teach the soothsayer that Bakugou is not a feline you act nice to. " [member=1660]JUNJI[/member] , you can, uh -" his mind wanders, going down his mental list for a task. Something not too hard, something a little relaxing. He knows the black mambas of their island have been busy. There's been far too many injuries and sicknesses, they are overworked. "- paint or create some murals to decorate the beach. Maybe put out some tanning chairs and umbrella to lighten the mood of it." The ocean. The subject of beauty but also gloom in many cases.
These thoughts, however, are rudely interrupted by Owen. Flareon? Smoke rushes out of his nostrils, sanguine eyes ablaze when he looks towards the prehistoric beast. He's been aware of this male's...body change. Truthfully, he hates it. He hates all the feral creatures that inhabited the island. All he wants is for them to be caged, released should they be needed but otherwise pushed away from the chance of disrupting his day-to-day routine. He may hate Sunhaven but he hates it even more when things go out of control. He doesn't know why on earth Owen is blending in with the feral wildlife of The Typhoon but he has a job to do. All this extra stress isn't helping the fact this his cells and atoms have gone spastic, buzzing and unable to keep still. " [member=1310]OWEN.[/member] ," he says, doing nothing to sugarcoat his growl. The embers can be seen upon his tongue, fire-coated tail burning hot enough to injure and spread. Bakugou, quickly recognising this, takes a deep breath. His bristled fur subsides and, although still rather tense and rigid, looks far more relaxed than before. "Go host a 'Would You Rather' session." He is sure by the glare of daggers that Owen can deduce that he isn't fond of Owen's form.
Junji. The angel. The angel that seems to have something for Luca. He honestly can't see why but Bakugou cares very little for the romantic affairs of others. He's not old enough to bother on such tangents. The reaver thinks it's too rosey, too pink and colourful for him to step foot into just yet. A smile. Funny how it's the small things that catch him off guard. No one, no one other than Kirishima, ever gives him a polite gleam. Usually it's a smirk or a growl, something to condescend or express an irritation towards him. Well, he reminds himself, Junji hardly knows him. He hasn't interacted much with the winged male so time will teach the soothsayer that Bakugou is not a feline you act nice to. " [member=1660]JUNJI[/member] , you can, uh -" his mind wanders, going down his mental list for a task. Something not too hard, something a little relaxing. He knows the black mambas of their island have been busy. There's been far too many injuries and sicknesses, they are overworked. "- paint or create some murals to decorate the beach. Maybe put out some tanning chairs and umbrella to lighten the mood of it." The ocean. The subject of beauty but also gloom in many cases.