[a hotel. rooms exist in great number within such places. his skepticism rolls off his back to the floor, left in the wake he expects the other man to follow. months ago, he was the one not knowing a damn path around this place, having to be escorted by a weird or unsavory characters, before branching off map in hand for personal exploration. makes his skin crawl to realize he's been here long enough to become another victim's tour guide. getting back home, freeing the other captives, feels like a goal lost in shadows far above his head.
he turns his body, shoulder first as a wedge through their crowds. pushing one to the side, then the other, a steady stalk carrying him over plush carpet and past one luxurious table of people losing money after another.]
Bakugo Katsuki.
[something about this guy feels strangely "normal" and he isn't sure he likes it. glitz and glamor wash past them in a sudden change to straight lines, diamond patterns on the floor, a built-in railings running the wall in golden definition. and multiple doors. not a single one directly facing another, as if this affords some sort of privacy.
fingers wrap around a questionably-shaped knob and he pushes the door open with a lumber inside.] Take a look around. It should be- [empty? hardly. uh-] -clean.
no subject
[a hotel. rooms exist in great number within such places. his skepticism rolls off his back to the floor, left in the wake he expects the other man to follow. months ago, he was the one not knowing a damn path around this place, having to be escorted by a weird or unsavory characters, before branching off map in hand for personal exploration. makes his skin crawl to realize he's been here long enough to become another victim's tour guide. getting back home, freeing the other captives, feels like a goal lost in shadows far above his head.
he turns his body, shoulder first as a wedge through their crowds. pushing one to the side, then the other, a steady stalk carrying him over plush carpet and past one luxurious table of people losing money after another.]
Bakugo Katsuki.
[something about this guy feels strangely "normal" and he isn't sure he likes it. glitz and glamor wash past them in a sudden change to straight lines, diamond patterns on the floor, a built-in railings running the wall in golden definition. and multiple doors. not a single one directly facing another, as if this affords some sort of privacy.
fingers wrap around a questionably-shaped knob and he pushes the door open with a lumber inside.] Take a look around. It should be- [empty? hardly. uh-] -clean.