[You've been training again! Look at yourself! look at himself. those burns. the price he was willing to pay to achieve that dream he'd held onto so tightly. I told you to give up. So just stop already. You can't do it-
those memories are easy to play in his head. he'll never forget them, each one as clear as crystal. being in this damn place has given him plenty of time to think, but without the end goal of his ambitions anywhere around. it's maddening, knowing you have one objective, focusing so hard upon it your life itself revolves about it as a focal point, can never happen. what had once given him the drive to live has been stripped away, leaving little for him to grasp onto. cast into the emptiness without focus, without ending, it's no wonder dabi's less than merciful towards these idiots.
ironic, being captured after being captured. do these idiots even know the reality here? mah... the only reality they need to worry about now is how utterly flammable they are. everything's on fire. blue flames scorching the area around him, turning the floor black and washing over a few zealots. they only last a second or two before the flames leave behind charred husks that crumble away above the burning remains. a painful lesson: be careful what you take.
dabi stomps down atop the remaining one, one hand resting by his side, the other draping his forearm across his bent knee as he leans forward and presses his foot onto the man's back. flames already lick out beneath his fingers, as if eager to descend and devour.]
Worthless. You're nothing but kindling.
[his scarred lips curve up slightly in a smirk, fire spiting from the tips of dabi's-]
Hm?
[a shout arrests him. turquoise eyes glance up, noticing a strange-looking man in red. is that... paint? it's green. no, it's not paint. that looks like blood. but it's green... ah, another one of the sleepers who was captured.]
hope you don't mind me crashing into this
those memories are easy to play in his head. he'll never forget them, each one as clear as crystal. being in this damn place has given him plenty of time to think, but without the end goal of his ambitions anywhere around. it's maddening, knowing you have one objective, focusing so hard upon it your life itself revolves about it as a focal point, can never happen. what had once given him the drive to live has been stripped away, leaving little for him to grasp onto. cast into the emptiness without focus, without ending, it's no wonder dabi's less than merciful towards these idiots.
ironic, being captured after being captured. do these idiots even know the reality here? mah... the only reality they need to worry about now is how utterly flammable they are. everything's on fire. blue flames scorching the area around him, turning the floor black and washing over a few zealots. they only last a second or two before the flames leave behind charred husks that crumble away above the burning remains. a painful lesson: be careful what you take.
dabi stomps down atop the remaining one, one hand resting by his side, the other draping his forearm across his bent knee as he leans forward and presses his foot onto the man's back. flames already lick out beneath his fingers, as if eager to descend and devour.]
Worthless. You're nothing but kindling.
[his scarred lips curve up slightly in a smirk, fire spiting from the tips of dabi's-]
Hm?
[a shout arrests him. turquoise eyes glance up, noticing a strange-looking man in red. is that... paint? it's green. no, it's not paint. that looks like blood. but it's green... ah, another one of the sleepers who was captured.]
Ya look like shit. Whatcha want?