[that only earns a growl as he's steered down the hallway. with everything dabi's said so far, can he really be blamed for thinking the villain's been able to stock up on his fortune. no one's going to look at that mess of scar tissue, piercings, rude attitude, and think the words prude and polite fit him. he can see the other being picky about his partners, but certainly not a celibate lifestyle. then again... dabi's been a busy villain too. maybe he didn't have time or interest either.
what has that done for him in this place? he doubts there are any heroes or villains clashing in a place obsessed with sex. dabi's as much a prisoner here as anyone else. might not've had anything better to do. questions and rationalizations grumble in his head, a constant murmur as his feet carry him wherever they're going. he doesn't have to play this game! he'll take this bullshit and-]
I'LL SMEAR YOU ACROSS THE WALL!!
[screeched mid stumble as one foot catches on the other thanks to that shove. he doesn't fall, instead clattering against the doors and knocking them open with his shoulder. a sharp cuss splits the air as sunlight stabs him right in the eyes, blinding him from the less-brilliant hallway for a second. wood groans beneath an anchoring hand on the railing, a leg stabbing against the wooden flooring to stop himself from pitching forward into the sand like a screw up.
seething, he straightens up, caught off guard by the sight in front of him. hotel, building, resort, but suddenly there's a very real scene splaying out, as if blatantly proving dabi's been telling the truth. sight, smell, sound, everything's exactly as it'd be in any normal scene like this, reminding him instantly of a summer festival at the beach.
except this time, instead of some friends from middle school, he's getting shadowed by a murderous prick who's talking about fucktopia and infuriatingly vindicated of most doubt. somehow... doubling the shitty robe around his waist again. dammit, really should've grabbed a sheet. or ripped dabi's shirt off; he doesn't need it.]
Don't order me around! [look, he's used to tokoyami, but animal-headed people aren't exactly common. this place has a whole flock of them, scattered around in their red suits, tan glows, and toned bodies. gross. it's like a lewd fantasy. probably on purpose.] Why the hell do all of them have bird heads?
[but he's going, he's going. even if he's not gonna be the nicest person to the guards. tempting to slam one of them right against the nearest surface and demand answers...]
no subject
what has that done for him in this place? he doubts there are any heroes or villains clashing in a place obsessed with sex. dabi's as much a prisoner here as anyone else. might not've had anything better to do. questions and rationalizations grumble in his head, a constant murmur as his feet carry him wherever they're going. he doesn't have to play this game! he'll take this bullshit and-]
I'LL SMEAR YOU ACROSS THE WALL!!
[screeched mid stumble as one foot catches on the other thanks to that shove. he doesn't fall, instead clattering against the doors and knocking them open with his shoulder. a sharp cuss splits the air as sunlight stabs him right in the eyes, blinding him from the less-brilliant hallway for a second. wood groans beneath an anchoring hand on the railing, a leg stabbing against the wooden flooring to stop himself from pitching forward into the sand like a screw up.
seething, he straightens up, caught off guard by the sight in front of him. hotel, building, resort, but suddenly there's a very real scene splaying out, as if blatantly proving dabi's been telling the truth. sight, smell, sound, everything's exactly as it'd be in any normal scene like this, reminding him instantly of a summer festival at the beach.
except this time, instead of some friends from middle school, he's getting shadowed by a murderous prick who's talking about fucktopia and infuriatingly vindicated of most doubt. somehow... doubling the shitty robe around his waist again. dammit, really should've grabbed a sheet. or ripped dabi's shirt off; he doesn't need it.]
Don't order me around! [look, he's used to tokoyami, but animal-headed people aren't exactly common. this place has a whole flock of them, scattered around in their red suits, tan glows, and toned bodies. gross. it's like a lewd fantasy. probably on purpose.] Why the hell do all of them have bird heads?
[but he's going, he's going. even if he's not gonna be the nicest person to the guards. tempting to slam one of them right against the nearest surface and demand answers...]