DON'T GIVE IT A NAME // OPEN

[Grey]

He didn't know what the boy was reading but his response to Owen's awful attempt at a snide was enough to make him feel out of place. Arthritis. In his old world, people used to talk about it all the time. It was sometimes in their fingers, making it impossibly hard to write, other times in their knees or their back or somewhere else that made it painful to move. The idea of bones sliding against each other, in places where cartilage should have been has always sounded disturbing. Nevertheless, he avoided paying attention to such things. He had other goals to care about, other things to pursue. Thinking so far for something that usually occurred with old age was none of his business. But something else at this point strikes him. He's never really stopped to consider if animals were capable of suffering from the same corrosion, whiskers twitching curiously when the child speaks. This was one of Pincher's children, the one he had had with someone who everyone thought was now dead.

His sanguine gaze flickers to the male's introduction of himself. Peppino or Pip. It was interesting to hear that the young boy was interested in becoming part of the black mambas, remembering the announcement the Captain had called not too long ago. "Sage tryouts are currently goin' on so you could participate, Pipsqueak." He couldn't help but add 'squeak' at the end of his name. It doesn't take the Reaver long, however, to notice the number of pirates beginning to crowd. He tries not to frown, not wishing to appear like one of the fools standing around for the sake of social interaction. He was only here because he wanted to one up on Owen, roll his eyes at the prehistoric male for asking such a pointless question. The answer was obvious. Deciding that there is little point in staying around, he dips his head (albeit awkwardly) before saying "Bakugou" to introduce himself and then promptly leaving to go about his daily business.