[he's not fool. dabi lets himself get grabbed and hauled forward. does he really think taunting him is the best idea right now?! this bastard's got information, a way to make this entire situation just a little bit easier, and he's gonna choose to make it more difficult for no fucking reason! running his damn mouth about helping, doing favors, mocking a lead on that he's going to be of some shitty assistance. every nerve in his body is screaming to splatter this guy all over the beach! red eyes narrow as dabi's teal irises roll so far around in his head, it looks like he's taking in everything in the world except for the guy yelling at him. what a complete prick! he sacked those damn birds on him and knew it! he would've been okay following him, begrudgingly accepting the help, but now that's own the window. betrayal's a shit experience.
that scoff answers with a grit of material, fingers tightening hard in that flowery shirt of his. dabi offered it to him. would it be "acceptance" to rip it clean off his body? nope! his blood runs fast in his veins, nerves and muscles tense as he still pays rapt attention to the man even in his anger. one spark of blue is all the villain needs to ignite. it's one of the reasons his hand flutters on dabi's shirt when those still-clear fingers reach his waist-bound robe.
he wouldn't dar- FUCK YOU, DABI!!
instantly his hand flashes from the villain's shirt down to the robe. WHAMP! and fists the burning sections, smothering the flames before they have more than a second to consume the material. it gets his hand off dabi at least, leaving him growling and snarling at the guy. but not touching. he neither wants to end up a smoldering nude nor have his privates burned. bastard. sometime in the future, expect him to blow up something of yours, dammit!]
Then you need to stop pissing me off! [but fine! he's backing the fuck off. in that he's not grabbing dabi's shirt anymore. a quick jerk of his hand breaks his wrist out of the man's hand. tch! wretch.] Finish your damn drink.
[he doesn't trust dabi's instructions. probably just gonna route him to some pervert's room or another seagull flock.]
no subject
that scoff answers with a grit of material, fingers tightening hard in that flowery shirt of his. dabi offered it to him. would it be "acceptance" to rip it clean off his body? nope! his blood runs fast in his veins, nerves and muscles tense as he still pays rapt attention to the man even in his anger. one spark of blue is all the villain needs to ignite. it's one of the reasons his hand flutters on dabi's shirt when those still-clear fingers reach his waist-bound robe.
he wouldn't dar- FUCK YOU, DABI!!
instantly his hand flashes from the villain's shirt down to the robe. WHAMP! and fists the burning sections, smothering the flames before they have more than a second to consume the material. it gets his hand off dabi at least, leaving him growling and snarling at the guy. but not touching. he neither wants to end up a smoldering nude nor have his privates burned. bastard. sometime in the future, expect him to blow up something of yours, dammit!]
Then you need to stop pissing me off! [but fine! he's backing the fuck off. in that he's not grabbing dabi's shirt anymore. a quick jerk of his hand breaks his wrist out of the man's hand. tch! wretch.] Finish your damn drink.
[he doesn't trust dabi's instructions. probably just gonna route him to some pervert's room or another seagull flock.]