[By now, Bakugo's gotten the rundown, he's gotten a little more used to the idea of living here and the fact that his home had been absolutely ruined. He heard that part of the reason why people were chosen out of everyone else in their world was so that they could help restore the places that have been destroyed, and that was the one thing keeping Bakugo from going absolutely berserk. If he was chosen, they that means they recognize his strength and he can't consciously decide to ignore someone when they tell him he's the only one that can save his world. He's training to become a hero, after all. A very... ornery... hero....... but a hero nonetheless!
So that's why, with a war drum strapped to his waist, Bakugo is at the Black Fist mansion to get himself a "writ" whatever the fuck that is. He needs a weapon, since his Quirk isn't as powerful as it used to be at home. He figured it must have been weakened after traveling to another world or something... he didn't care enough to actually think deep about the reason, he just knew he was pissed that he could no longer make explosion five times as big as himself anymore. But he still could make something, so when the man at the reception desk suggests that Bakugo bribe him for one of those weapon licenses, an irritated grin spreads across the teen's face and he lifts up his right hand, tiny, booming sparks jumping from his palm.]
Hahhh? You're the one who should be greasing me up, ya' old fart!
[Just as Bakugo threatens him, someone else walks in to haggle for their license as well. It's.. probably no good if he blows the guy giving them away up so it might be a good idea to pull the problem child aside for a moment. He does have his war drum and the Performance skill, after all. If he just played it, he probably could get both of you a license in one go.]
4-a.
[He was silent on the journey to Thorn Island, having joined whatever group was already on the way to leave. Bakugo's not the type to like to wait around for something to happen, he takes initiative and as soon as he got the rundown about the lighthouse he was on his way to figure that shit out. He kind of hated how this entire place seemed set up like an RPG of some kind, with quests and classes and the like but at the very least he knows how this shit goes to an extent. So he complies, keeping his mouth shut as his group make it to the island and the first thing he does is head into the abandoned mansion.]
Who fucking died in here? It smells like shit.
[And as soon as he walks into the banquet hall, his nose is affronted by the smell of rotting meat. He covers his nose with his hand and walks over to the large table, looking to see if there really was a dead body somewhere but nope... just a bunch of empty chairs.]
Looks like whoever was here had to leave in a hurry. The place looks brand new besides the garbage all over the table.
[He says that to whoever might be listening, as he kicks a chair over and looks underneath the table.]
But what the hell are we even supposed to be looking for here? We're here to fix a lighthouse or whatever... not clean up after some lazy asshole's dinner party!
[He's not good at the whole Investigating thing but at least there's an attempt being made.]
bakugo katsuki | boku no hero academia | bard
[By now, Bakugo's gotten the rundown, he's gotten a little more used to the idea of living here and the fact that his home had been absolutely ruined. He heard that part of the reason why people were chosen out of everyone else in their world was so that they could help restore the places that have been destroyed, and that was the one thing keeping Bakugo from going absolutely berserk. If he was chosen, they that means they recognize his strength and he can't consciously decide to ignore someone when they tell him he's the only one that can save his world. He's training to become a hero, after all. A very... ornery... hero....... but a hero nonetheless!
So that's why, with a war drum strapped to his waist, Bakugo is at the Black Fist mansion to get himself a "writ" whatever the fuck that is. He needs a weapon, since his Quirk isn't as powerful as it used to be at home. He figured it must have been weakened after traveling to another world or something... he didn't care enough to actually think deep about the reason, he just knew he was pissed that he could no longer make explosion five times as big as himself anymore. But he still could make something, so when the man at the reception desk suggests that Bakugo bribe him for one of those weapon licenses, an irritated grin spreads across the teen's face and he lifts up his right hand, tiny, booming sparks jumping from his palm.]
Hahhh? You're the one who should be greasing me up, ya' old fart!
[Just as Bakugo threatens him, someone else walks in to haggle for their license as well. It's.. probably no good if he blows the guy giving them away up so it might be a good idea to pull the problem child aside for a moment. He does have his war drum and the Performance skill, after all. If he just played it, he probably could get both of you a license in one go.]
4-a.
[He was silent on the journey to Thorn Island, having joined whatever group was already on the way to leave. Bakugo's not the type to like to wait around for something to happen, he takes initiative and as soon as he got the rundown about the lighthouse he was on his way to figure that shit out. He kind of hated how this entire place seemed set up like an RPG of some kind, with quests and classes and the like but at the very least he knows how this shit goes to an extent. So he complies, keeping his mouth shut as his group make it to the island and the first thing he does is head into the abandoned mansion.]
Who fucking died in here? It smells like shit.
[And as soon as he walks into the banquet hall, his nose is affronted by the smell of rotting meat. He covers his nose with his hand and walks over to the large table, looking to see if there really was a dead body somewhere but nope... just a bunch of empty chairs.]
Looks like whoever was here had to leave in a hurry. The place looks brand new besides the garbage all over the table.
[He says that to whoever might be listening, as he kicks a chair over and looks underneath the table.]
But what the hell are we even supposed to be looking for here? We're here to fix a lighthouse or whatever... not clean up after some lazy asshole's dinner party!
[He's not good at the whole Investigating thing but at least there's an attempt being made.]