08-31-2018, 07:07 AM
He's come to notice a growing trend when it came to Typhooners both young and old: they absolutely loved to talk about themselves. Q&A's weren't exactly an uncommon sight and, to be frank, he found them to be rather boring. It was even more laughable when the ones hosting such a session had to attempt to lure questioners in, bribing them with snacks or gifts just so they could get a spotlight of attention, shower themselves within the limelight. This time, however, Bakugou had actually had a good impression on the lion-bird hybrid having only recognised him on a few occasions - the meeting and during sunhaven's visit. He liked that he wasn't afraid to express what he thought and how he was capable of bringing about subjects through a tactical, much more smooth manner. It contrasted greatly to Bakugou's own honesty which was raw, full of passion but intensely irritating because he swore like as if he were a boy who had just been gifted his first gun on Christmas and willing to fire just about anything, anyone.
It just so happens that Bakugou catches the sound of an unintelligible call, cutting cleanly through the air and towards his agitated ears. He chooses not to move at all, deciding not to give the speaker the pleasure of seeing his displeased face at the noise. Cookies. The privateer can't help but snort at the griffin's lame attempt and continues to finish his current drink, guzzling the contents of his glass before tapping its empty glory against the tavern table. He stands and begins to walk towards the door, intending to go back to his hut when he hears the pitched voice of a kitten. Bakugou puffs his cheeks, unsure if he can stand the idea of going outside and having to face a possible crowd of questioners gawking at the newcomer. He can't stay inside the tavern just staring at the door, he knows that, but the weight of decisions cycle in front of him like a wheel of fortune, stressing the ragdoll that he forced the tavern door open, letting it swing against a wall with a loud, unsettling boom. Bakugou winces a little but keeps going about his business.
He doesn't get very far, however, when he starts to smell the waft of cookies. It reminded him again of his old home, the old world where he'd sometimes be walking past some kids holding cookies inside paper bags, claiming that they had just been freshly baked in the morning. If he tried hard enough to be sad, perhaps he can even hear their conversations from within the misery of his mind. Bakugou partly turns his head, taking another sniff of the biscuity air before sighing harshly at himself. He's not particularly fond of cookies. The last he had eaten were the ones from Goldenluxury and, in his frustration, they had turned to ashes. The taste of charcoal...or maybe even it was the taste of death, cremated along his very tongue. "Were you always some weird bird thing?" the privateer asks impulsively, allowing himself to give in to such sudden words. He was wondering for a while what unsettled him about Feliks and he remembers now - the griffon reminded him a lot of Tokoyami who reminded him a lot of just how much attention he needs to give to Kirishima in the case that his friend did something stupid. Bakugou too catches on the creature's use of 'badass' but chooses not to ask any related questions for now.
It just so happens that Bakugou catches the sound of an unintelligible call, cutting cleanly through the air and towards his agitated ears. He chooses not to move at all, deciding not to give the speaker the pleasure of seeing his displeased face at the noise. Cookies. The privateer can't help but snort at the griffin's lame attempt and continues to finish his current drink, guzzling the contents of his glass before tapping its empty glory against the tavern table. He stands and begins to walk towards the door, intending to go back to his hut when he hears the pitched voice of a kitten. Bakugou puffs his cheeks, unsure if he can stand the idea of going outside and having to face a possible crowd of questioners gawking at the newcomer. He can't stay inside the tavern just staring at the door, he knows that, but the weight of decisions cycle in front of him like a wheel of fortune, stressing the ragdoll that he forced the tavern door open, letting it swing against a wall with a loud, unsettling boom. Bakugou winces a little but keeps going about his business.
He doesn't get very far, however, when he starts to smell the waft of cookies. It reminded him again of his old home, the old world where he'd sometimes be walking past some kids holding cookies inside paper bags, claiming that they had just been freshly baked in the morning. If he tried hard enough to be sad, perhaps he can even hear their conversations from within the misery of his mind. Bakugou partly turns his head, taking another sniff of the biscuity air before sighing harshly at himself. He's not particularly fond of cookies. The last he had eaten were the ones from Goldenluxury and, in his frustration, they had turned to ashes. The taste of charcoal...or maybe even it was the taste of death, cremated along his very tongue. "Were you always some weird bird thing?" the privateer asks impulsively, allowing himself to give in to such sudden words. He was wondering for a while what unsettled him about Feliks and he remembers now - the griffon reminded him a lot of Tokoyami who reminded him a lot of just how much attention he needs to give to Kirishima in the case that his friend did something stupid. Bakugou too catches on the creature's use of 'badass' but chooses not to ask any related questions for now.