11-13-2018, 07:00 AM
Bakugou doesn't run away from his problems, or at least the problems he is aware of. He works to overcome them, to hone his body to become a perfect, weaponised vessel to fight against his struggles. In terms of emotional problems, he almost always lets them overwhelm him to the point that he is blinded by an intoxicating rage, forbidding him from seeing anything clearly. He refuses to run away from his problems but Bakugou is no perfect being. Most of the time, he doesn't realise there is a problem he is running away from, doesn't even realise that it lies within him, brewing and bubbling away within a cauldron of suppressed feelings. Thoughts and fears often evolve and manifest into more fuel to feed the fire that kept him going, the destructive and curling flames of his anger. Sometimes, Bakugou would like to be a different person. It would be nice to change into a force of good, someone who didn't have to work so damn hard to be respected. He was sure that the only reason The Typhoon kept him around was because he contributed to the weapon pool of the island, was considered a capable fighter, pulled his weight. Otherwise, if respect was based on personality alone, he would receive none of it.
The Quartermaster's ears crane towards the ringing sound, indifferent by the clangs of the bell that reverberate across the rainforest grounds. He would likely have kept believing that The Typhoon only wanted his utility had it not been for his recent promotion. It still stuck to his mind in an alarming and unsettling way. He is at least self-aware that he does not get along with others, that his personality was load of bullshit and his temper was strong as a feather. He doesn't know what the Captain sees in him. If the purpose was to induce a silent identity crisis upon him than the Captain had surely achieved it.
Embittered eyes sweep towards the hellhound and the owl flying ahead of him, reaching the gates before him to greet the stranger at the bell. A dark-furred wolf, he notes before stopping close to the three and listening to Talia's comments. She surely knows how to act so calmly around foreigners, civil but different to the charisma to that of Luciferus who held bounties of wisdom or Feliks who had a bite that accompanied his words. While the hellhound had stated that she didn't like waiting, there didn't seem to be any aggression at the expense of the other. He thought it to be interesting, not adding any other words to the canine's presence at the gate because the ragdoll doesn't feel the need to waste his breath. While he doesn't smell like he is a part of any group, it was very much possible that he was here on business terms rather than joining turns. He doesn't want to jump the gun, simply standing and supervising quietly. He needed the distraction.
The Quartermaster's ears crane towards the ringing sound, indifferent by the clangs of the bell that reverberate across the rainforest grounds. He would likely have kept believing that The Typhoon only wanted his utility had it not been for his recent promotion. It still stuck to his mind in an alarming and unsettling way. He is at least self-aware that he does not get along with others, that his personality was load of bullshit and his temper was strong as a feather. He doesn't know what the Captain sees in him. If the purpose was to induce a silent identity crisis upon him than the Captain had surely achieved it.
Embittered eyes sweep towards the hellhound and the owl flying ahead of him, reaching the gates before him to greet the stranger at the bell. A dark-furred wolf, he notes before stopping close to the three and listening to Talia's comments. She surely knows how to act so calmly around foreigners, civil but different to the charisma to that of Luciferus who held bounties of wisdom or Feliks who had a bite that accompanied his words. While the hellhound had stated that she didn't like waiting, there didn't seem to be any aggression at the expense of the other. He thought it to be interesting, not adding any other words to the canine's presence at the gate because the ragdoll doesn't feel the need to waste his breath. While he doesn't smell like he is a part of any group, it was very much possible that he was here on business terms rather than joining turns. He doesn't want to jump the gun, simply standing and supervising quietly. He needed the distraction.