11-07-2018, 07:26 PM
Faint resonances identified as footsteps drew near, each vibration becoming more apparent than the last, until ultimately, Marco had been approached. In spite of the stranger’s obvious presence, he did not rotate his noggin to face the individual. It was customary for him to concede the privilege of voice unto another, avowing the liberty of speaking one’s mind. Nobody deserved to be cut off, as it was a basic right to own a tongue, hence the angel had been taught by his peers a little device called patience. His pointed ears perked in interest as the being in question scorned, the male’s neutral jaw dipping into a smile whilst as he identified the ill-tempered entity as Bakugou - the synonymous fierce feline who had been present at the lynx’s arrival in this group. The lucidity behind his unintentional grin had to do with the munchkin’s personality; it was indeed a fun one. While not necessarily immoral, the munchkin had not, under any condition in which Marco was present, expressed tenderness towards another. In essence, Bakogou was good in heart, though at the same time cardinally expressing a negative persona.
Seeing that what was said had been said, he swung his frontage around to face Bakugou, maw adjacent and ready to respond, only to witness the forthcoming of another being. This one, nameless on account of the two being unacquainted with each other, was of fiendish blood, it seemed. The demon’s opinions on him were clearly expressed: he was not appreciated.
"You’re right," he proclaims towards the ragdoll, tensing his stiff neck as he did so, ”I am being useless, and I owe the Typhoon a great deal of labour.” Marco’s pupils had then swapped targets, attempting to read the most recent addition to the group’s mug more thoroughly. His goals were pretty much the same as the quartermaster’s. Disparagement. This fazed not the angel, interpreting that these insults and taunts were nothing but acts of disposition. That, or being rude was just in their personalities (it was likely the latter).
”I promise that I’ll provide what’s indebted of me,” he’d continue alongside a sure nod, ”but I must tend to family matters first. Afterwards, I promise to get more involved in affairs around here.” A sharp inhale crept into his maw following this, one of both relief and anticipation.
Seeing that what was said had been said, he swung his frontage around to face Bakugou, maw adjacent and ready to respond, only to witness the forthcoming of another being. This one, nameless on account of the two being unacquainted with each other, was of fiendish blood, it seemed. The demon’s opinions on him were clearly expressed: he was not appreciated.
"You’re right," he proclaims towards the ragdoll, tensing his stiff neck as he did so, ”I am being useless, and I owe the Typhoon a great deal of labour.” Marco’s pupils had then swapped targets, attempting to read the most recent addition to the group’s mug more thoroughly. His goals were pretty much the same as the quartermaster’s. Disparagement. This fazed not the angel, interpreting that these insults and taunts were nothing but acts of disposition. That, or being rude was just in their personalities (it was likely the latter).
”I promise that I’ll provide what’s indebted of me,” he’d continue alongside a sure nod, ”but I must tend to family matters first. Afterwards, I promise to get more involved in affairs around here.” A sharp inhale crept into his maw following this, one of both relief and anticipation.