08-25-2018, 04:25 AM
Sometimes, it was easy for things to become awkward between Bakugou and others. He had never been very social, not particularly talkative either unless he was arguing with someone or trying to impose his cockiness. It was his time in The Typhoon that he realised it was very easy to fall into the backdrop, become one with the side characters which populated the island. If he didn't speak up, if he didn't make a name for himself, he'd become another one of those extras. No one wants to be forgotten, he thinks, not even him who supposedly cares very little about the opinions of others. He has a reputation and he intends to keep it, cling to it like the foolish boy he could be. An uncomfortable feeling begins to settle in his stomach. He's woken up not too long ago and still feels groggy. His tiredness is making him emotional and unpredictable, unable to make sense of the wandering thoughts which swim about his fuzzy head - a blur of words and memories.
He wonders if Kirishima felt awkward around him. He was beginning to let the reality of his past life dawn on him. Although he had vowed to look forward, become born anew, seeing his friend only brought back the times he had been a force to be reckoned with. And maybe, just maybe, he felt something inside of him whenever he saw Kirishima. He doesn't know how to name it but he could say it didn't feel particularly nice, it was more like an increasing weight which sat upon his chest, pulling him down harder than gravity itself. Yet it was the thought of his friend which brought fear to seep into his veins, cheeks growing hot when he smells the scent of blood intertwined with Kirishima's scent. Without thinking, based on a hero's instinct, he darts forward through the dense forest. He stops at moments, frantically looks about him, then continues moving. "KIRISHIMA?" the privateer roars. Bakugou's brain begins to spin when he sees the trail, smoke wheezing through his fiery maw. "FOR FUCK'S SAKE. KIRISHIMA?"
The pounding of his heart seems to slow down when he sees his classmate's injured form before zooming in on Exodus tasting the male's blood. Fury overcame him throwing a jet of fire in Exodus' direction. Of course, the flames themselves were not hot enough to cook or burn on impact but they were warm enough to hurt. "GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HIM," he yells, fur risen along his vertebral column. He knows this couldn't have been the raptor's doing. Otherwise the reptilian would likely have eaten Kirishima a long time before Bakugou had made it here considering the infected leg. He scrunches his nose. Bakugou doesn't know how to heal and it frustrates him that he's never learnt. "KIRISHIMA? CAN YOU HEAR ME? KIRISHIMA." He feels nauseous seeing the wounds covering the male who was a magnet to suffering, a magnet to injury and pain. The wounds in the tongue, the infected leg... disgusting, truly disgusting and vile. Unable to control himself he begins to attempt to shake the poor guy, his fire-coated tail becoming hotter and hotter by the minute and threatening to burn the entire forest.
He wonders if Kirishima felt awkward around him. He was beginning to let the reality of his past life dawn on him. Although he had vowed to look forward, become born anew, seeing his friend only brought back the times he had been a force to be reckoned with. And maybe, just maybe, he felt something inside of him whenever he saw Kirishima. He doesn't know how to name it but he could say it didn't feel particularly nice, it was more like an increasing weight which sat upon his chest, pulling him down harder than gravity itself. Yet it was the thought of his friend which brought fear to seep into his veins, cheeks growing hot when he smells the scent of blood intertwined with Kirishima's scent. Without thinking, based on a hero's instinct, he darts forward through the dense forest. He stops at moments, frantically looks about him, then continues moving. "KIRISHIMA?" the privateer roars. Bakugou's brain begins to spin when he sees the trail, smoke wheezing through his fiery maw. "FOR FUCK'S SAKE. KIRISHIMA?"
The pounding of his heart seems to slow down when he sees his classmate's injured form before zooming in on Exodus tasting the male's blood. Fury overcame him throwing a jet of fire in Exodus' direction. Of course, the flames themselves were not hot enough to cook or burn on impact but they were warm enough to hurt. "GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HIM," he yells, fur risen along his vertebral column. He knows this couldn't have been the raptor's doing. Otherwise the reptilian would likely have eaten Kirishima a long time before Bakugou had made it here considering the infected leg. He scrunches his nose. Bakugou doesn't know how to heal and it frustrates him that he's never learnt. "KIRISHIMA? CAN YOU HEAR ME? KIRISHIMA." He feels nauseous seeing the wounds covering the male who was a magnet to suffering, a magnet to injury and pain. The wounds in the tongue, the infected leg... disgusting, truly disgusting and vile. Unable to control himself he begins to attempt to shake the poor guy, his fire-coated tail becoming hotter and hotter by the minute and threatening to burn the entire forest.