11-07-2018, 12:41 AM
He used to think he'd never get used to The Typhoon. There were too many bad memories associated with the idea of being ejected out of his original universe, placed insensitively into this world. A feline, a pirate. The feelings were unsettling because he was overwhelmed with other emotions. It was nearly impossible for him to just accept that he had died, the acknowledge that he wasn't unstoppable, that at that moment in time he had been the defeated one. He simply could not understand how the rest of class 1-A managed to just accept the idea that they were now animals, drawn into another world full of magic and the unexplained. He didn't understand how there could be angels and demons, others who could change forms based on what they needed and how they felt, relationships that could be formed that seemed so human. It wasn't right, he used to think, but this was now his world and his life he had to protect. Strangely enough, overtime, he got used to it. He couldn't imagine a life different to this one. The feeling of being human was fading away and frankly, he was both terrified and indifferent. He didn't want to forget the sensation of having palms, fingers that could help him grip a pen, the way it felt to walk on two legs and lose balance when he wasn't being careful. Then there was his explosions and how they made him feel safe. The moment he fell, he could blast himself back up, never having to touch the ground in an ungraceful manner.
Thinking about the past was painful, heart aching, sanguine eyes always searching for the ocean. The ocean in this universe was the same, shifting back and forth by the pull of gravity, lifted by heat. It was the only thing that felt familiar and normal for the Reaver, quietly watching the sea until he noticed the angel standing around. Normally, he would have ignored the other. Pirates liked to stop and look at the ocean all the time. It was so phenomenon. And yet he approached, telling himself that he needed the social interaction, and stood next to the other male. His fur bristles at the gust of wind, his warmth being dragged away until his body produced more heat, refusing to die down. "Bein' useless I see," the ragdoll huffs at the other. In terms of the 'nice' members of The Typhoon, Bakugou was fine knowing that he didn't count among them. He was a whole new category of his own, infuriating to have to deal with because he was still so immature. Even when it came to topics of romance, he thought it to be disgusting and too rosy. "Wouldn't hurt if ya did some work. The ocean ain't goin' nowhere." He could trust in that at least.
Thinking about the past was painful, heart aching, sanguine eyes always searching for the ocean. The ocean in this universe was the same, shifting back and forth by the pull of gravity, lifted by heat. It was the only thing that felt familiar and normal for the Reaver, quietly watching the sea until he noticed the angel standing around. Normally, he would have ignored the other. Pirates liked to stop and look at the ocean all the time. It was so phenomenon. And yet he approached, telling himself that he needed the social interaction, and stood next to the other male. His fur bristles at the gust of wind, his warmth being dragged away until his body produced more heat, refusing to die down. "Bein' useless I see," the ragdoll huffs at the other. In terms of the 'nice' members of The Typhoon, Bakugou was fine knowing that he didn't count among them. He was a whole new category of his own, infuriating to have to deal with because he was still so immature. Even when it came to topics of romance, he thought it to be disgusting and too rosy. "Wouldn't hurt if ya did some work. The ocean ain't goin' nowhere." He could trust in that at least.