08-04-2018, 04:34 PM
" IT'S FINE NOW. WHY? BECAUSE I AM HERE! "
All Might had died. Toshinori still lived, though he was a serval now, but... no, All Might had died by Shigaraki's hands, and there was no changing it. It didn't mean that he didn't want to save people, no. That drive would always be with him, it was just that he couldn't be the man he'd been before.
The serval hadn't been doing much when he'd spotted Kirishima darting around, calling for his clanmates, but it had certainly gotten him to his feet. What was going on? Toshinori's shadowed gaze followed the maned wolf for a moment before breaking away towards the direction he'd come. He needed to go after... whatever was happening. He didn't do much else now, anyways. This was really the least he could do, try to make a potentially dangerous situation... less dangerous.
He bounded towards the scene, blue sweater flopping around his lithe form as he did, worry clear in his face. Toshinori was really expecting the worst- if Kirishima had run away, it must mean it was bad, right? -but when he finally did arrive, things seemed to be handled, for the most part. He heaved a breath. He wasn't sure he'd really exercised properly since he'd gotten here, maybe other than his little fight with Aizawa, but... geez. He was a bit out of shape. Cerulean orbs scanned each of his clanmates until it landed on the hand, and he froze.
Five fingers around his neck. The sudden burning, the knowledge that he was quite literally fading away. His heart was racing and Toshinori's nostrils flared, shadowed eyes wide with surprise and fear and absolute loathing all at once. He wasn't sure whether to run back the way he'd come or to attack this man with all he had, and yet, he knew he couldn't. This was his mentor's grandson, and hurting him would do her a disservice, as much as the serval wanted to. And yet, his claws itched. The urge to lunge was getting stronger by the second. Perhaps it was his mentor's grandson, but he had also killed so many people, so many of his students.... Was that really forgivable?
"Why are you here?"
His tone was ferocious. There was an anger unlike any he'd heard, even from himself, dripping off of each consonant. His face had distorted into an incredible animosity without his consent. Every hair on his body was still, though. He didn't move an inch other than the constant rise and fall of his ribcage, in sync with his breath. If there was one thing he didn't want to be right now, it was violent, but well... we'll see how long that one lasts.
The serval hadn't been doing much when he'd spotted Kirishima darting around, calling for his clanmates, but it had certainly gotten him to his feet. What was going on? Toshinori's shadowed gaze followed the maned wolf for a moment before breaking away towards the direction he'd come. He needed to go after... whatever was happening. He didn't do much else now, anyways. This was really the least he could do, try to make a potentially dangerous situation... less dangerous.
He bounded towards the scene, blue sweater flopping around his lithe form as he did, worry clear in his face. Toshinori was really expecting the worst- if Kirishima had run away, it must mean it was bad, right? -but when he finally did arrive, things seemed to be handled, for the most part. He heaved a breath. He wasn't sure he'd really exercised properly since he'd gotten here, maybe other than his little fight with Aizawa, but... geez. He was a bit out of shape. Cerulean orbs scanned each of his clanmates until it landed on the hand, and he froze.
Five fingers around his neck. The sudden burning, the knowledge that he was quite literally fading away. His heart was racing and Toshinori's nostrils flared, shadowed eyes wide with surprise and fear and absolute loathing all at once. He wasn't sure whether to run back the way he'd come or to attack this man with all he had, and yet, he knew he couldn't. This was his mentor's grandson, and hurting him would do her a disservice, as much as the serval wanted to. And yet, his claws itched. The urge to lunge was getting stronger by the second. Perhaps it was his mentor's grandson, but he had also killed so many people, so many of his students.... Was that really forgivable?
"Why are you here?"
His tone was ferocious. There was an anger unlike any he'd heard, even from himself, dripping off of each consonant. His face had distorted into an incredible animosity without his consent. Every hair on his body was still, though. He didn't move an inch other than the constant rise and fall of his ribcage, in sync with his breath. If there was one thing he didn't want to be right now, it was violent, but well... we'll see how long that one lasts.
code by spacexual