[if he doesn't want to be called a hero, then he shouldn't act like one. simple as that. dabi notes the lack of any real response to his words, suggesting this guy's gone through a lot of insults in his life, enough that he no longer cares. that's fine. not like he plans on trying to beat him down with a bunch of name calling. still, going around talking about "saving" and "helping" and being nosy into other people's personal business? that's all the marks of a hero. and he hates heroes.
dabi's eye doesn't change its focus when allen reacts like that. another bleeding heart.]
Same reason you'd wanna save him. [they're not talking about the same person, but he's letting it run its course.] Cause it feels good. Cause ya get somethin outta it.
[the escalated voice does nothing to his presence, the flames not even burning brighter against allen's outrage. content to watch him like he's some piece of meat on a slab for inspection. noting his anger, the way his hands curl into fists, mouth twisting around that sour truth heroes like him hate to taste on their tongues.]
Am I winning?
[it's mildly annoying he can't "see" outside of this place, doesn't even know what his own body's doing. has to rely on this guy (who he has zero reason to trust) to know what's going on. which unfortunately backs up a little of what allen's said regarding his physical body. this is some weird ass out-of-body experience... though he does remember the butterfly.]
Fight it? [this time, his eye narrows before the flames begin to peel back from his flesh. revealing spiky white hair, another brilliant turquoise eye, and burn scarsall over all over his face and lower. carving a burned rictus look on his face as silver staples and hoops hook the gnarled purple burn scars onto what still-remaining healthy flesh rests on his body. leaning out of the flames until they're licking around his waist, revealing the entire expanse of his upper torso and the burns covering it, shoulders, arms, chest, stomach, back, patchwork of burn and clear.] Why would I wanna do that?
no subject
dabi's eye doesn't change its focus when allen reacts like that. another bleeding heart.]
Same reason you'd wanna save him. [they're not talking about the same person, but he's letting it run its course.] Cause it feels good. Cause ya get somethin outta it.
[the escalated voice does nothing to his presence, the flames not even burning brighter against allen's outrage. content to watch him like he's some piece of meat on a slab for inspection. noting his anger, the way his hands curl into fists, mouth twisting around that sour truth heroes like him hate to taste on their tongues.]
Am I winning?
[it's mildly annoying he can't "see" outside of this place, doesn't even know what his own body's doing. has to rely on this guy (who he has zero reason to trust) to know what's going on. which unfortunately backs up a little of what allen's said regarding his physical body. this is some weird ass out-of-body experience... though he does remember the butterfly.]
Fight it? [this time, his eye narrows before the flames begin to peel back from his flesh. revealing spiky white hair, another brilliant turquoise eye, and burn scars all over all over his face and lower. carving a burned rictus look on his face as silver staples and hoops hook the gnarled purple burn scars onto what still-remaining healthy flesh rests on his body. leaning out of the flames until they're licking around his waist, revealing the entire expanse of his upper torso and the burns covering it, shoulders, arms, chest, stomach, back, patchwork of burn and clear.] Why would I wanna do that?