11-06-2018, 08:57 AM
There were a few instances where Bakugou was able to feel cold, where the wind would finally grasp his heat away from him. And yet those were the instances the Reaver had to feel most worried about because his body always ran at higher than normal temperatures, frequently boiling with his mood, intensely warm on neutral days. It wasn't uncommon to see the steam from the Reaver's flared nostrils, showing just how high the temperature of his body was becoming. The only time it got to be harmful was when he felt intense emotions, an overwhelming anger possess him, because it was during that time that his skin was like that of a kettle. It burned to touch him and, to his dismay, he learnt that it could hurt others. It had always been that type of feeling where he felt so hot that he felt cold, frozen because his thermoreceptors were unable to understand the extremity of his emotions, but never once had he stopped to think that he was capable of hurting others. It made him more cautious, more paranoid that the innocent act of bumping into another could give them a serious blister. Of course, his fear towards physical contact would only make his temperature worse.
He didn't know much about this girl playing with glitter. All he knew was that she was another one of Pincher's children and such information made him immediately uncomfortable. The ragdoll usually did his best to avoid them but it was during instances such as these that he felt tempted to ask why they were so weird and different. He simply couldn't understand, after all, how a child would find interest in covering parts of her body in glitter for the sake of art. The very substance irked him because no matter how much he'd try to clean himself off, there'd always be a speck twinkling on him. He doesn't even want to imagine how awful glitter would be on the likes of an animal, the way it might cling to his fur forever. He would die and somehow take glitter to his grave. A sparkling corpse. As funny as it sounded, it would have been as bad as dying while taking a toilet break. There was nothing honorable or funny about it when the tables were turned. But, for now, his attention was kept at the way the canine was trying to print her paw. The activity in itself looked stupid to the Reaver. "That's a waste of paper."
He didn't know much about this girl playing with glitter. All he knew was that she was another one of Pincher's children and such information made him immediately uncomfortable. The ragdoll usually did his best to avoid them but it was during instances such as these that he felt tempted to ask why they were so weird and different. He simply couldn't understand, after all, how a child would find interest in covering parts of her body in glitter for the sake of art. The very substance irked him because no matter how much he'd try to clean himself off, there'd always be a speck twinkling on him. He doesn't even want to imagine how awful glitter would be on the likes of an animal, the way it might cling to his fur forever. He would die and somehow take glitter to his grave. A sparkling corpse. As funny as it sounded, it would have been as bad as dying while taking a toilet break. There was nothing honorable or funny about it when the tables were turned. But, for now, his attention was kept at the way the canine was trying to print her paw. The activity in itself looked stupid to the Reaver. "That's a waste of paper."