( Esikko is a little puzzled at that, honestly. Is it stupid because it's obvious they're sleeping together, or stupid because it's obvious they wouldn't...? But before he can even think of a way to reply, Bakugo is brushing past him, and he's left stepping after with a quiet little noise of annoyance, trying to catch up. Hold on!!
It's fine, he'll figure the bed thing out later tonight. For now, they exit the room together, and Esikko gives an extra tug at the door to ensure it's locked before they leave.
From there, it's likely not long until Bakugo's suite, being the same rank and all. This hotel's layout can be confusing as hell sometimes, but Esikko doesn't worry about that and allows Bakugo to lead the way. Instead, he rechecks through his packed bag (it's one night) and assures the plushie is tucked away there, too, before opening his journal and flipping through a few pages, searching for something. )
Did you ever have to take notes, when you learned how to use your quirk?
[Have fun trying to read Bakugo's mind as he expects the prince to. Put all those little pieces together, from his explosive abrasive attitude to the small actions he takes for someone else. Like walking someone to their resort room after demanding they spend the night with him cause some asshole was a pain. He's a tricky field to navigate, full of landmines and safe spaces you better not bring up, cause that's a landmine.
Bakugo glances behind him when Esikko pulls the door shut, its metal bolting sounding loud in the empty hallway. He only pauses for a few steps to wait on the prince's catch up. Then returns to his walk. Not too long, though it feels that way. Between the floors intermingling jacks and aces, who the hell knows if their rooms will be in the same place each night? Fuck, the resort drops people into new locations whenever it wants!]
Haa? [What's this all of a sudden? He shoves his hands into his pocket.] Of course I took notes! What kind of idiot doesn't?
[Like his damn life revolves around him. Which it does, he knows. Still ticks him off after all Esikko's done to distance and separate himself from the beast, life conspires against him.]
Clean your fucking ears out! Everyone puts in work to learn shit. Some people pick up skills faster and better than others. That doesn't give you the right to shit on their efforts!
[Bakugo's one of those naturally talented types, succeeding quickly at anything he puts his hands to. But he threw himself into each of those things 100% with all his effort. Someone trying to lessen his skill by saying he was "a natural" as if it somehow invalidated his accomplishment is asking to get their head put through the wall.]
No, not "everyone" puts in work, and that's precisely why I'm bringing up that stupid dog. He's the type to accidentally "guess" at some method, or meaning, and completely get it right— and if that's not irritating enough, he takes absolutely no interest in it at all! No work, no care, just pure luck!
( Maybe that's where all of Esikko's luck has gone. Swallowed up by the luckiest dog alive. He sighs. )
Anyway, it makes me angry to think about so I need to stop bringing it up.
Instead, I'd like to focus on my own actual improvements, but... I'm not sure how? Do you have any ideas?
[He doesn't believe anyone's that intelligent or lucky. And Bakugo comes from a world where intelligence and luck can be altered via Quirks. Esikko sounds more jealous than anything else. A lucky guesser without motivation or interest isn't impossible, but highly unlikely.]
Che! You go three whole days without bringing him up and I'll buy all your meals for a week.
[Calling bullshit on Esikko's ability to do so. Even if he hates the guy, he doesn't hate Kirma enough to not talk to people about hating him.]
Haa? How the hell do you NOT know how to focus on something?!
I am not— argh, I am so sick of everyone refusing to believe me about him!
( This is like, a majority of the annoyance, the hatred, the continued mentioning. He's so annoyed— can't one person believe that this stupid dog has stupid luck and then rubs it in?! He stomps a little in his steps, taking a deeper breath before sighing it out. )
And that is not what I meant! Look, I'll stop talking about him. Three days minimum. But I don't eat enough where food even matters, so in exchange, I want you to believe me.
...But even if you won't, whatever. Forget it. I'm talking about focusing on achievements, as in, seeing where I've improved in some sort of trackable manner? All I can see is where I've fallen short. It's important to see both sides, isn't it?
Because you make it sound like an exaggeration, dammit!
[Especially since Esikko always says it while he's bitching about the guy! Anyone with half a brain would hear the bias and instantly suspect any claim he makes about someone he obviously hates! How he hell does Esikko not hear it in his own voice? Sheesh.]
That's not how believing someone works, Prince Prick. [Baka, trading "belief" for an action.] I'm not doubting he's lucky. Just "how" lucky you say he is.
[Doesn't have anything to do with belief cause he isn't disbelieving Esikko. Anyways, Bakugo shoves the topic aside before they both get pissed.]
Haa? I've already kept track of your physical improvements!
( For once, Esikko doesn't argue, doesn't try to bring back up a dropped topic. He's on edge, especially after Chobe appearing out of nowhere, and so should he really be annoying someone who's said he'd come to help him if it came to it? The longer he thinks on it, the more he wonders if he's worthy of being anyone's friend at all, with the way he acts, and—
Ah, wait. He blinks once, twice, and then readjusts the bag over his shoulder, tilting his head to look at Bakugo. )
...You've been keeping track of my physical improvements?
( He's sure he just means that he noticed, right? That he observed it, once or twice, and made a mental note. But that still has him thinking about it, a little hopeful, a little curious, a little pleased. So there were some, so it wasn't his imagination. )
[Bakugo stops in front of two double doors, then sweeps his watch across the front. A lock clicks and he twists the knob before shoving the door open. His suite's completely changed now. Gone is most of the gold and gaudy decoration (a few accents stubbornly remain), replaced by a modern Japanese apartment suite.
Stone and light tile accents offset wooden furniture ranging from dark walnut to warm elm. A few area rugs and runners cushion the furniture. Light enough to be comfortable without feeling brilliant or sterile. Occasional green sprinkles a few plants around for something to live and avoid feeling like he's locked away as much. An even balance of homey, professional, stylish, and efficient.]
Haa?! Why the fuck would I train you, but fuck up on your progress, asshole?! I knew you wouldn't take notes!
[He stalks off towards a large entertainment center/bookshelf, eyes scanning before he reaches out and snags a notebook from a few others. Then tosses it to the table nearby.]
Put your shit down and look!
[Inside are notes taken each time they trained together. Ranging anywhere from Esikko's weight to how many pounds and kilograms he lifted. His striking speed carries from Day 1 to their last session, as well as target accuracy on his hits. Notes in neat handwriting, but Bakugo's own shorthand, fill margins and undercut tables. A very-impressively recorded training regimen.]
( At first, he doesn't say anything. Of course he took notes! But, it sounds like these are completely different notes from what Bakugo means. Esikko enters, takes brief note of the nice, cozy feeling of the suite before slipping out of his shoes and allowing his bag to slide to the floor nearby. His steps carry him over to the notebook, and he scoops it up just as he sets his own journal down, and begins reading over some of the pages.
It's so... detailed. Even from day one? Even from the latest. He's quiet a while longer, processing, before he sets it down, opened, and moves to open his journal all the same. He flicks through the pages before arriving to a section closer to the middle or back. Folding it open on the table next to Bakugo's notes, he lifts his head and finds the other man wherever he's wandered off to. )
My notes are different from yours, is all.
( If Bakugo does care to look, like Esikko is inviting him to, he'll see neat handwriting organized in a different sort of way. He does seem to record the things they do each training session, from the very first— number of reps, length of time— but there's no specific pounds or measurements, no numbered way of tracking. Instead, there are a lot of comments on his feelings notated along, like how hard it was on the first day, or one of the later days having a comment about how it feels like things are easier but he's not sure if he's doing it right. So on and so forth.
More relevant than that, he's written down every "teaching" thing Bakugo has taught him. How to get out of specific holds, ideas for using his magic, tricks for getting used to exercise, etc... They're all marked with special little bullet points to highlight them from the rest of the text, so he can revisit. Some of them have little doodles in order to properly understand a motion or idea. Good drawings, though he does plants the best. )
I was aware you were paying attention, but I suppose I didn't think you'd go to such lengths? ( He's impressed. A little touched, too... Feels nice, somehow. ) But I still don't know— I mean, compared to someone with a body more sturdy, is it something worthwhile, this improvement?
[Bakugo returns to the kitchen after making sure the door's locked. Esikko's free to look through the notebook and compare his own-- something he assumes is happening when a second slap of paper and metal spiral hits the table. Unfortunately the hero's a responsible person, so he's not popping a wine cork free or twisting beer caps off with a hiss. Snapping bottle caps open of a sweet-flavored tea. Relax, he has other drinks as well, from lemonade to juice to water to flavored sugar water when he's in the mood. Soda. He's not a heathen.
Barefoot, he comes to a stop beside Esikko and sets a bottle on the table for whenever he wants it. Could've asked what he wanted, didn't bother because the guy's had a shit day and doesn't need to mess with more choices in mind.]
No shit. [Esikko isn't him. He tilts his bottle to his lips, red eyes studying from above. Tch, partially detailed with specifics, but spills out into thoughts and feelings belonging to a journal rather than a notebook. Feels like he's reading someone's private diary, and he stops looking a few seconds in. Like hell does he wanna read someone's personal thoughts! Ugh, uncomfortable.]
Hmph. I'm not gonna half-assed training someone. [Bakugo leaves the table and steps into the living area before sinking down on the chair, one foot propped up on a coffee table edge.]
Stop comparing yourself to other people, dumbass! You're never gonna see yourself if you keep looking at everyone else.
[Choosing whether this was worthwhile or not is entirely up to Eikko. Bakugo wouldn't recommend it, not after all the work Esikko's put in and his improvements. Maybe they seem small to him when it compares himself to other people, but from what Bakugo saw him start with, he's come a long way in the months.]
...Surely even you have once compared yourself to someone else.
( It's a soft sort of mumble, not upset so much as a little curious. He's taking Bakugo's words to heart, either way, his fingers curling over the front of Bakugo's notebook before shutting it and sliding it a bit away. He'll look more at it later. )
In any case, it's not like I knew you were keeping track of that. I'll just look at it occasionally, then.
( Here, Esikko's eyes fall on the bottle that's been offered to him, and they soften a little. Tea is perfect, honestly. He's been drinking alcohol too much lately... So, he takes a sip, immediately pleased by the sweet flavor, before pulling his own journal closer, flipping through. )
Anyway... While we're waiting for the food, look here. This page looks empty, right? ( It does. Those with a sense for magic might sense something off about it, something More, but he's not actually certain if Bakugo can. So he glances to him, curious. )
[His silence is so pregnant, he might as well be shouting to Esikko's face of how harsh a trigger those words snared within him. He spent his entire life comparing himself to everyone! To one singular someone! Weighty history and far more details than he wants to get into bubble behind his lips before he leans his head back on the seat's rest.]
How the hell did you train if you never kept record of your progress?
[Whether it's magic or physical-]
No one's going to see how far they came if they don't look back.
[Some people refuse to look back, saying it distracts from their present and future. Some are too afraid or disgusted to see what they were long ago, even a week ago. But the past never dies, it never goes away, and it can't be ignored forever. Bakugo traces invisible patterns in the ceiling's calming colors, mind wandering to his own history. Where came from, what he used to think...]
Haa? [Broken from his thoughts, he pushes with his foot and tilts his head back, neck craned almost to snapping over the seat's back so he can peer across the space between them.] It's fucking blank! You trying to start something, Prince PricK?
( It's rare that Bakugo is quiet, so watching him sit there and press his lips together like he's going to explode tells Esikko plenty about hitting the nail on the head. He gets it, at least, that sort of stubborn refusal to admit when someone makes a point, even if they do; that sort of do as I say not as I do mentality all the same, too.
So he doesn't point it out, just watches him for a moment before sighing. )
I never worked on my own physical strength before. But with magic... I would use spells as tracking points. Organizing them into "levels" of difficulty, seeing how far I could get each time.
( He points at the "blank" page in front of him now, eyes on Bakugo. )
This isn't blank. Pay attention to it. ( His finger moves, tracing out some sort of a geometric symbol, and without any use of blood, just with the quiet speech of a word that doesn't seem to make sense, the page appears. Not any visible shifting or bleeding of words onto paper, but one minute they're empty, and the next, the page is filled, as if it had been so the entire time and Bakugo has only just noticed. A strange sensation. )
It's instructions on the basics of spells that can hide something from reality. Someone can "unlock" and "lock" a spell like these, with the right knowledge and the ability to sense it.
[He's not going to explode, dammit! Just... tch, doesn't wanna get into it. Far too familiar with comparing himself with other people. The hell does Esikko think a superiority complex comes from, lonely apathetic wusses? Whatever, the prince can figure out he touched a nerve and they don't have to go any further for now.
His sigh says anything he could've strung together with words.]
So look back on them and see how far you've come.
[Why Esikko never thought to apply the same principle to his physical training is beyond him. Bakugo always tracks shit, wanting to see how much he's improved. Pride needs basting plenty. This is really damn uncomfortable on his neck, Prince Prick.]
What can you hide? [People, things, tangible items, or intangible shit like feelings and intentions. His attention's clearly focused, a nerdy interest in other people's powers he won't admit despite it showing up easily.]
( Who's the one who decided to tilt his head over the chair like a cool punk, huh?? Still, Esikko recognizes the position and takes his journal with him, stepping away from the other notebook to move around Bakugo, instead. )
In theory, anything.
( He offers Bakugo a closer look at the journal, if he wants it. It's a lot of complex, detailed notes on the way the spell works, illustrations of the symbols that can act as locks or keys, scratched in additions as Esikko found them throughout his lives added on. )
In practice, it's more difficult. Something like writing is the easiest, as it exists on something physical and perceived but has no will of its own, no presence, no real weight that could cause it to shift or distract. The journal itself, or any small item, would be next— possible, but you have to account for its physical presence, and how to disguise around that.
When you get to the level of animals or people, it's extremely complex, so I've yet to manage it. They exist in their own space, with their own will, with significant weight and presence... Weaving something around that would have to take many external factors into mind, so it's more likely to break.
( His Watch lights up with a notification for the food, and he considers it briefly. It shouldn't make him nervous to open a door, especially not with Bakugo right here, and so he passes his journal over to him so he can have both hands free, helping himself to step towards his front door. He'll get it. )
It's not just the writing that's hidden. There are more pages in there than should be possible, though it's not something you can observe by looking at it.
[Shut up. Who's the on who decided to try showing him a blank notebook, huh? Bakugo slouches down once more, hair scraping along material, and drops his elbow on the armrest as he peers over the pages.
Anything, huh. He eyes the notes, flicking across one line after another. None of it makes and damn sense to him, words scrawling across pages about a topic he knows nothing about, and likely has no potential at ever understanding. It's fucking magic! Magic doesn't exist in his world! A lock and key he grasps, if the symbols can activate them just be being applied.]
So you're stuck with information until you learn how to improve the spell.
[But the only information he can leave is text-based, meaning he has to deal with working the spell around books, journals, etc., and hope they make it through the transfer somehow without fucking everything up by being in places they're not supposed to be. Esikko wants his life to be done over, but actively changes it...]
You risk causing a butterfly effect. [Bakugo takes the journal, but pushes himself up without invitation and follows Esikko to the door. It's his suite after all. What the hell's the delivery guy gonna think if someone else opens the door? Why the hell would a delivery guy know who's in each room...]
A butterfly effect is unavoidable. I don't restart the same life each time. There are numerous possibilities, laid out and pre-determined in many ways...
( He's a little surprised Bakugo got up to follow him, but he supposes he shouldn't be. He's a hero, huh. Esikko is sure he'd say some comment about it being his room and all, but is that the real reason? He doesn't think so.
And so it's comforting, a little... Even when they answer it and get met with an innocent delivery worker who says one awkward line about them having a nice date too many before scuttling away. Even when there's nothing else out in the hallway, but Esikko's eyes still linger on it before taking the bag and heading back inside, leaving Bakugo to lock it. )
This spell isn't even the one that connects to carrying it across lives, either, you know? This one simply hides things from perception. But become familiar enough with magic, and anyone could tell something was off, or different, about it.
So, it's natural for me to learn that the journal is key early on into discovering magic, each time. ( Step one. He offers the bag to Bakugo, the spicy gyoza safely inside along with the gogi pajeon he'd ordered for himself. He's not hungry (rarely is) so he's procrastinating on that. ) I understand the essentials of spell weaving, but the idea is what is possible.
So... forget about the resets, for now. What I'm worried about is here, in this life, right? Let me see some of the spells I use for defense.
( He's flipping through, completely obsessed with study mode now... )
Che. If you can't build on your past lives, you're not doing shit but playing craps.
[Esikko already mentioned he tried adding more to his life, sending his diaries and journals into his new life with multiple limitations and drawbacks. Starting over again each time, incrementally getting better. But it's so damn slow and ineffective! Pisses him off just hearing about it! Given his own perfectionist and detailed nature, his pride rankles over hearing someone else tell him about a monumental botch. Go figure.
Urusei! Esikko got attacked/threatened a few hours ago! Of course he's going to damn door with him. Bakugo doesn't trust the hotel's fucking nosy nature to keep out of this mess. And yes, it's his room. You don't open the door to someone else's room! Fucking rude.]
SCRAM!! [Who the hell says shit about dating?! Two guys can be in the same room without being on a fucking date! WHAM! Door slams so hard, it probably gives the asshole a bit of wind to push him along. He twists the lock and deadbolts it before stalking off to the kitchen in a huff.]
Is your world's magic inherent or learnable?
[Big difference. People in his world can't "learn" to use another Quirk unless they have a transfer or copy Quirk, allowing it. Same thing for magic in many fantasy books. Either you're born with it or you're not, compared to other stories where it can be learned by almost anyone.
He sets two plates on the counter, then opens the bag and begins dishing out the foot. A healthy amount on his own plate, and a small amount on Esikko's. He's seen the guy eat. Portioning's adequate. No spicy gyoza for his majesty, unless he wants to burning his ass for another reason.]
( ...It's charming, the way Bakugo gets so flustered over tiny little comments like that. But Esikko says nothing, slipping into his seat at the table and busying himself with flipping towards one of his more defensive spells. Illustrations on the page show it's something about plants— it's his poison one he first used on Chobe, in defense. )
Learnable, to start, but there's a degree that's inherent. Magic can be accessed in different ways, and each person has their own separate style. These methods can be inherited, such as my affinity for blood.
( He brings a hand to his chin, thoughtful as he regards Bakugo now. )
I could teach you, for example, the basics of spells. But you'd have to work more on your own for finding how to access those methods through your own... tools, I would say? I struggled before I read up and realized that it was blood magic that ran in my family.
[He's not flustered, dammit! Go clean your eyes, Prince Prick. Luckily Esikko says nothing so he doesn't get an outburst as the blonde finishes meting out their food. He knew the other man was good for his promise. Something to do while he starts getting bogged down in his own studies. Bakugo's seen this enough times with Midoriya to know a nerdy stampede's about to start. Bastard's gonna ramble and mutter everything in his head out his mouth.]
Who'd you inherit it from?
[Assuming it's passed down biologically in Esikko's world. He takes a seat at the counter and captures a gyoza between his chopsticks, then bites it clean in half, filling his mouth with spicy meat, vegetables, sauce, and a smattering of rice. Of course it's good; the peacock wouldn't serve an Ace shit food.]
Che. No way. [He detonates an explosion in his free hand.] My Quirk will do anything I want it to. I don't need another. [He learned that upon watching Midoriya unlike multiple Quirks from his own. An intense burning pride in his own Quirk and the strength he's honed within it all these years. His and his alone.] Magic doesn't exist in my world.
[At best he could learn the theory, how Esikko puts spells together, but at that point, he might as well be lying out a bunch of crap for a warlock's ritual without the end results. Until the warlock came back.]
Tell me how you put your spells together.
[That said, he's interested in this part. Mostly because he wants to help Esikko truncate his preparation or whatever takes him longer to cast.]
...My father's side. Not that he would know. It was something like my great great grandfather, or something...
( He looks a little annoyed by that, but brushes along just as quickly. )
Magic exists everywhere. At least, the sort of magic I'm speaking of does. Perhaps the methods to harness it don't, but that's entirely separate. I'm sure your quirk could benefit you to use magic all the same.
( A quirk is just as much a "tool" in what he was saying, he thinks. But the invitation to explain spells in detail has him brightening, enough that he at least has a few bites of food before he gets to it. )
Magic is like... using the energy of the world around you. It doesn't exist in any one person, but rather is manipulated by living things such as people. Casting a spell, then, has many key points. First, you think of the end result that you'd desire.
Hmm, for example, I'll say the end result I'd desire is "simulating sunlight", since this is something I have to do frequently for my plants. Have you seen the little floating lights above them, from time to time? ( Like wireless grow lights... ) I first decided that in a place with only false sun, I needed to create something more real for them to thrive. After that, I have to map out the spell— this requires a technical knowledge on the working of the energy around us, visualizing it, and imagining how magic might flow through various pathways. Then, there is always a cost. What sort of cost could I offer to make up for the energy borrowed to create sunlight?
In most cases, my blood works well as a large cost. It's filled with Divinity, making it full of power, and blood in general is a great catalyst for magic if you know how to use it. Since I've inherited this familiarity with blood itself, I can do things like drink blood to restore energy from exhaustion, or use it as a battery for magic itself. There are many spells that are too complex and require more cost than just that, but in this case, the intensity and size of the sunlight are small enough that blood alone was capable.
With all that in mind, you then have to create a physical gateway for the energy to flow. Drawn symbols, specific in design for the purpose or direction you need, are learned through plenty of research and your own sense— but the medium you use has to be a good catalyst for that energy, as well. Blood, again, is something I use. Water wouldn't work at all, and something like... paint would be lacking. Imagining how to describe it is a bit difficult— it feels unclean, or fake, or perhaps a bit too thick or chemical? Another example, perhaps one more potent for you, would be ashes. You could certainly smear ash to a powder to trace symbols and open that door.
From there, you have a created spell. Oftentimes, the end result here is still rather clumsy and there are places where I can then go back and cut down. "Why turn right three times when I could turn left once?" Those sort of simple corrections can only be done at the end, balanced with cost and need. Weaving magic like this is physically taxing, depending on the length and complexity of the spell, too, and there are certain times where you struggle to find the right cost, or materials, or offerings... Or perhaps the pathway is muddied, and trying to clear it is difficult. There are so many factors.
( Yeah, Bakugo was right. Nerdy stampede is one way to put this. Esikko talks plenty when he wants to, but even this is a lot for him, and especially with so much energy and enthusiasm. )
[Skipping generations without being seen or shown until the perfect alignment suddenly brings it into light. Bakugo leans back in the seat, both arms resting on its sides. Esikko's offering him magic and his pride quickly rises up. His Quirk has always been with him since the start, he's never needed anything else, and ultimately, never wanted anything else. He intended to claim his dream with his strength alone! So no one could look at his results and say he was assisted by someone or something else. As if it wasn't 100% him.
Bakugo's never believed in magic before. Always a Quirk. Always science. Magic was make believe. But in this place, magic is very real. People bring it from their own worlds. The peacock replicates it. Fucking amazing and weird.
He bristles slightly when Esikko suggests his Quirk could "benefit" him to use magic, lips twitching and ashen brows furrowing over his red eyes.]
You heard me.
[There's a difference in learning a technique separate from him. He's picked up archer, marksmanship, martial arts, a host of skills and abilities, many of which don't play at all well with his Quirk, and some that do.
And yet... wouldn't it be cool to magic up something? Hmph. Little wide-eyed kid inside.
Esikko launches into a fucking litany of words, pouring out and chattering with all the energy of some fucking nerd rambling about his favorite topic. Bakugo sinks back in the seat, like he can somehow retreat from his bluster. With Midoriya, he definitely would be moving away, backing up with a flat face and growling about how creepy it is. Definitely creepy here too. Who the hell talks that much at once?!]
You're talking way too much, dammit!
[Right, that protest gets run over and swallowed by the maniac on the pulpit. So much for speaking out. He's left sunk in his seat and scowling by the time Esikko finally finishes his happy place.]
Urusei. [Yeah, he's not doing all that crap. Time to rein this guy in!] Get out the shit you use for the mind wipe spell.
( It's an immediate retort, one that hardly breaks the enthusiastic energy practically radiating from him right now. A mild annoyance, one that he's matching with the urgent flipping of his journal's pages, food forgotten for moments longer as he does. Any retort or argument from Bakugo on that is completely ignored and pushed through as he starts up again. )
It's not a mind wipe, it's a memory block. A seal, if you will. To make it succinct as possible... Goal: block access to any memories of one specific person. To lower the cost, make it temporary, with an expected expiration. The pathway: I used the higher energy connection of the basement and its overrunning of spirits to form the symbols required. Cost: burnings of rabbit fur, candles, and presenting a chunk of a lizard tail at the locations of the symbols. Also, physical contact, no matter how brief, and a transmission or insertion of just the tiniest bit of my blood. I planned on a needle, but that idiot came and grabbed my hand and sucked on my finger.
( During all of this, he sets out a few things from his bag on the table. The journal is turned to the correct page, symbols all drawn and described, and there are sealed jars of fur, blood, and a set of candles. Sealed and sanitary, and away from the food, don't worry. )
So, there are two methods that I can think of to move around shortening the requirement or extending the impact.
( He holds up his fingers one at a time to symbolize this, counting them off. )
One: rather than a memory block, a memory erasure. The cost would increase highly, and the energy required could be a problem for my body as it is now. Two: a stronger memory block, more permanent. It's cost isn't as high as erasure, as there's the potential for the barrier to break down over time or persistent agitation. It's still a higher cost than what I've already managed.
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Date: 8/13/25 21:56 (UTC)It's fine, he'll figure the bed thing out later tonight. For now, they exit the room together, and Esikko gives an extra tug at the door to ensure it's locked before they leave.
From there, it's likely not long until Bakugo's suite, being the same rank and all. This hotel's layout can be confusing as hell sometimes, but Esikko doesn't worry about that and allows Bakugo to lead the way. Instead, he rechecks through his packed bag (it's one night) and assures the plushie is tucked away there, too, before opening his journal and flipping through a few pages, searching for something. )
Did you ever have to take notes, when you learned how to use your quirk?
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Date: 8/14/25 14:40 (UTC)Bakugo glances behind him when Esikko pulls the door shut, its metal bolting sounding loud in the empty hallway. He only pauses for a few steps to wait on the prince's catch up. Then returns to his walk. Not too long, though it feels that way. Between the floors intermingling jacks and aces, who the hell knows if their rooms will be in the same place each night? Fuck, the resort drops people into new locations whenever it wants!]
Haa? [What's this all of a sudden? He shoves his hands into his pocket.] Of course I took notes! What kind of idiot doesn't?
[Even geniuses have things written down.]
no subject
Date: 8/14/25 21:29 (UTC)( But he's relieved if he aligns with Bakugo on this, scanning his pages with a small frown. )
I've heard some people, the naturally talented type, can essentially put in no work but manage things. It always frustrated me.
( But he was just curious, and so he closes his journal again, looking forward. )
I would sneak out of bed at night to study books, take notes, and so on.
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Date: 8/15/25 17:59 (UTC)[Like his damn life revolves around him. Which it does, he knows. Still ticks him off after all Esikko's done to distance and separate himself from the beast, life conspires against him.]
Clean your fucking ears out! Everyone puts in work to learn shit. Some people pick up skills faster and better than others. That doesn't give you the right to shit on their efforts!
[Bakugo's one of those naturally talented types, succeeding quickly at anything he puts his hands to. But he threw himself into each of those things 100% with all his effort. Someone trying to lessen his skill by saying he was "a natural" as if it somehow invalidated his accomplishment is asking to get their head put through the wall.]
Hmph. At least you're determined.
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Date: 8/15/25 21:47 (UTC)( Maybe that's where all of Esikko's luck has gone. Swallowed up by the luckiest dog alive. He sighs. )
Anyway, it makes me angry to think about so I need to stop bringing it up.
Instead, I'd like to focus on my own actual improvements, but... I'm not sure how? Do you have any ideas?
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Date: 8/16/25 01:31 (UTC)[He doesn't believe anyone's that intelligent or lucky. And Bakugo comes from a world where intelligence and luck can be altered via Quirks. Esikko sounds more jealous than anything else. A lucky guesser without motivation or interest isn't impossible, but highly unlikely.]
Che! You go three whole days without bringing him up and I'll buy all your meals for a week.
[Calling bullshit on Esikko's ability to do so. Even if he hates the guy, he doesn't hate Kirma enough to not talk to people about hating him.]
Haa? How the hell do you NOT know how to focus on something?!
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Date: 8/16/25 21:10 (UTC)( This is like, a majority of the annoyance, the hatred, the continued mentioning. He's so annoyed— can't one person believe that this stupid dog has stupid luck and then rubs it in?! He stomps a little in his steps, taking a deeper breath before sighing it out. )
And that is not what I meant! Look, I'll stop talking about him. Three days minimum. But I don't eat enough where food even matters, so in exchange, I want you to believe me.
...But even if you won't, whatever. Forget it. I'm talking about focusing on achievements, as in, seeing where I've improved in some sort of trackable manner? All I can see is where I've fallen short. It's important to see both sides, isn't it?
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Date: 8/17/25 02:26 (UTC)[Especially since Esikko always says it while he's bitching about the guy! Anyone with half a brain would hear the bias and instantly suspect any claim he makes about someone he obviously hates! How he hell does Esikko not hear it in his own voice? Sheesh.]
That's not how believing someone works, Prince Prick. [Baka, trading "belief" for an action.] I'm not doubting he's lucky. Just "how" lucky you say he is.
[Doesn't have anything to do with belief cause he isn't disbelieving Esikko. Anyways, Bakugo shoves the topic aside before they both get pissed.]
Haa? I've already kept track of your physical improvements!
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Date: 8/17/25 02:40 (UTC)Ah, wait. He blinks once, twice, and then readjusts the bag over his shoulder, tilting his head to look at Bakugo. )
...You've been keeping track of my physical improvements?
( He's sure he just means that he noticed, right? That he observed it, once or twice, and made a mental note. But that still has him thinking about it, a little hopeful, a little curious, a little pleased. So there were some, so it wasn't his imagination. )
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Date: 8/17/25 04:45 (UTC)Stone and light tile accents offset wooden furniture ranging from dark walnut to warm elm. A few area rugs and runners cushion the furniture. Light enough to be comfortable without feeling brilliant or sterile. Occasional green sprinkles a few plants around for something to live and avoid feeling like he's locked away as much. An even balance of homey, professional, stylish, and efficient.]
Haa?! Why the fuck would I train you, but fuck up on your progress, asshole?! I knew you wouldn't take notes!
[He stalks off towards a large entertainment center/bookshelf, eyes scanning before he reaches out and snags a notebook from a few others. Then tosses it to the table nearby.]
Put your shit down and look!
[Inside are notes taken each time they trained together. Ranging anywhere from Esikko's weight to how many pounds and kilograms he lifted. His striking speed carries from Day 1 to their last session, as well as target accuracy on his hits. Notes in neat handwriting, but Bakugo's own shorthand, fill margins and undercut tables. A very-impressively recorded training regimen.]
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Date: 8/17/25 05:57 (UTC)( At first, he doesn't say anything. Of course he took notes! But, it sounds like these are completely different notes from what Bakugo means. Esikko enters, takes brief note of the nice, cozy feeling of the suite before slipping out of his shoes and allowing his bag to slide to the floor nearby. His steps carry him over to the notebook, and he scoops it up just as he sets his own journal down, and begins reading over some of the pages.
It's so... detailed. Even from day one? Even from the latest. He's quiet a while longer, processing, before he sets it down, opened, and moves to open his journal all the same. He flicks through the pages before arriving to a section closer to the middle or back. Folding it open on the table next to Bakugo's notes, he lifts his head and finds the other man wherever he's wandered off to. )
My notes are different from yours, is all.
( If Bakugo does care to look, like Esikko is inviting him to, he'll see neat handwriting organized in a different sort of way. He does seem to record the things they do each training session, from the very first— number of reps, length of time— but there's no specific pounds or measurements, no numbered way of tracking. Instead, there are a lot of comments on his feelings notated along, like how hard it was on the first day, or one of the later days having a comment about how it feels like things are easier but he's not sure if he's doing it right. So on and so forth.
More relevant than that, he's written down every "teaching" thing Bakugo has taught him. How to get out of specific holds, ideas for using his magic, tricks for getting used to exercise, etc... They're all marked with special little bullet points to highlight them from the rest of the text, so he can revisit. Some of them have little doodles in order to properly understand a motion or idea. Good drawings, though he does plants the best. )
I was aware you were paying attention, but I suppose I didn't think you'd go to such lengths? ( He's impressed. A little touched, too... Feels nice, somehow. ) But I still don't know— I mean, compared to someone with a body more sturdy, is it something worthwhile, this improvement?
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Date: 8/17/25 19:55 (UTC)Barefoot, he comes to a stop beside Esikko and sets a bottle on the table for whenever he wants it. Could've asked what he wanted, didn't bother because the guy's had a shit day and doesn't need to mess with more choices in mind.]
No shit. [Esikko isn't him. He tilts his bottle to his lips, red eyes studying from above. Tch, partially detailed with specifics, but spills out into thoughts and feelings belonging to a journal rather than a notebook. Feels like he's reading someone's private diary, and he stops looking a few seconds in. Like hell does he wanna read someone's personal thoughts! Ugh, uncomfortable.]
Hmph. I'm not gonna half-assed training someone. [Bakugo leaves the table and steps into the living area before sinking down on the chair, one foot propped up on a coffee table edge.]
Stop comparing yourself to other people, dumbass! You're never gonna see yourself if you keep looking at everyone else.
[Choosing whether this was worthwhile or not is entirely up to Eikko. Bakugo wouldn't recommend it, not after all the work Esikko's put in and his improvements. Maybe they seem small to him when it compares himself to other people, but from what Bakugo saw him start with, he's come a long way in the months.]
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Date: 8/18/25 05:09 (UTC)( It's a soft sort of mumble, not upset so much as a little curious. He's taking Bakugo's words to heart, either way, his fingers curling over the front of Bakugo's notebook before shutting it and sliding it a bit away. He'll look more at it later. )
In any case, it's not like I knew you were keeping track of that. I'll just look at it occasionally, then.
( Here, Esikko's eyes fall on the bottle that's been offered to him, and they soften a little. Tea is perfect, honestly. He's been drinking alcohol too much lately... So, he takes a sip, immediately pleased by the sweet flavor, before pulling his own journal closer, flipping through. )
Anyway... While we're waiting for the food, look here. This page looks empty, right? ( It does. Those with a sense for magic might sense something off about it, something More, but he's not actually certain if Bakugo can. So he glances to him, curious. )
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Date: 8/18/25 22:05 (UTC)[His silence is so pregnant, he might as well be shouting to Esikko's face of how harsh a trigger those words snared within him. He spent his entire life comparing himself to everyone! To one singular someone! Weighty history and far more details than he wants to get into bubble behind his lips before he leans his head back on the seat's rest.]
How the hell did you train if you never kept record of your progress?
[Whether it's magic or physical-]
No one's going to see how far they came if they don't look back.
[Some people refuse to look back, saying it distracts from their present and future. Some are too afraid or disgusted to see what they were long ago, even a week ago. But the past never dies, it never goes away, and it can't be ignored forever. Bakugo traces invisible patterns in the ceiling's calming colors, mind wandering to his own history. Where came from, what he used to think...]
Haa? [Broken from his thoughts, he pushes with his foot and tilts his head back, neck craned almost to snapping over the seat's back so he can peer across the space between them.] It's fucking blank! You trying to start something, Prince PricK?
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Date: 8/19/25 05:05 (UTC)So he doesn't point it out, just watches him for a moment before sighing. )
I never worked on my own physical strength before. But with magic... I would use spells as tracking points. Organizing them into "levels" of difficulty, seeing how far I could get each time.
( He points at the "blank" page in front of him now, eyes on Bakugo. )
This isn't blank. Pay attention to it. ( His finger moves, tracing out some sort of a geometric symbol, and without any use of blood, just with the quiet speech of a word that doesn't seem to make sense, the page appears. Not any visible shifting or bleeding of words onto paper, but one minute they're empty, and the next, the page is filled, as if it had been so the entire time and Bakugo has only just noticed. A strange sensation. )
It's instructions on the basics of spells that can hide something from reality. Someone can "unlock" and "lock" a spell like these, with the right knowledge and the ability to sense it.
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Date: 8/19/25 15:40 (UTC)His sigh says anything he could've strung together with words.]
So look back on them and see how far you've come.
[Why Esikko never thought to apply the same principle to his physical training is beyond him. Bakugo always tracks shit, wanting to see how much he's improved. Pride needs basting plenty. This is really damn uncomfortable on his neck, Prince Prick.]
What can you hide? [People, things, tangible items, or intangible shit like feelings and intentions. His attention's clearly focused, a nerdy interest in other people's powers he won't admit despite it showing up easily.]
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Date: 8/19/25 21:57 (UTC)In theory, anything.
( He offers Bakugo a closer look at the journal, if he wants it. It's a lot of complex, detailed notes on the way the spell works, illustrations of the symbols that can act as locks or keys, scratched in additions as Esikko found them throughout his lives added on. )
In practice, it's more difficult. Something like writing is the easiest, as it exists on something physical and perceived but has no will of its own, no presence, no real weight that could cause it to shift or distract. The journal itself, or any small item, would be next— possible, but you have to account for its physical presence, and how to disguise around that.
When you get to the level of animals or people, it's extremely complex, so I've yet to manage it. They exist in their own space, with their own will, with significant weight and presence... Weaving something around that would have to take many external factors into mind, so it's more likely to break.
( His Watch lights up with a notification for the food, and he considers it briefly. It shouldn't make him nervous to open a door, especially not with Bakugo right here, and so he passes his journal over to him so he can have both hands free, helping himself to step towards his front door. He'll get it. )
It's not just the writing that's hidden. There are more pages in there than should be possible, though it's not something you can observe by looking at it.
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Date: 8/20/25 17:03 (UTC)Anything, huh. He eyes the notes, flicking across one line after another. None of it makes and damn sense to him, words scrawling across pages about a topic he knows nothing about, and likely has no potential at ever understanding. It's fucking magic! Magic doesn't exist in his world! A lock and key he grasps, if the symbols can activate them just be being applied.]
So you're stuck with information until you learn how to improve the spell.
[But the only information he can leave is text-based, meaning he has to deal with working the spell around books, journals, etc., and hope they make it through the transfer somehow without fucking everything up by being in places they're not supposed to be. Esikko wants his life to be done over, but actively changes it...]
You risk causing a butterfly effect. [Bakugo takes the journal, but pushes himself up without invitation and follows Esikko to the door. It's his suite after all. What the hell's the delivery guy gonna think if someone else opens the door? Why the hell would a delivery guy know who's in each room...]
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Date: 8/21/25 06:31 (UTC)( He's a little surprised Bakugo got up to follow him, but he supposes he shouldn't be. He's a hero, huh. Esikko is sure he'd say some comment about it being his room and all, but is that the real reason? He doesn't think so.
And so it's comforting, a little... Even when they answer it and get met with an innocent delivery worker who says one awkward line about them having a nice date too many before scuttling away. Even when there's nothing else out in the hallway, but Esikko's eyes still linger on it before taking the bag and heading back inside, leaving Bakugo to lock it. )
This spell isn't even the one that connects to carrying it across lives, either, you know? This one simply hides things from perception. But become familiar enough with magic, and anyone could tell something was off, or different, about it.
So, it's natural for me to learn that the journal is key early on into discovering magic, each time. ( Step one. He offers the bag to Bakugo, the spicy gyoza safely inside along with the gogi pajeon he'd ordered for himself. He's not hungry (rarely is) so he's procrastinating on that. ) I understand the essentials of spell weaving, but the idea is what is possible.
So... forget about the resets, for now. What I'm worried about is here, in this life, right? Let me see some of the spells I use for defense.
( He's flipping through, completely obsessed with study mode now... )
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Date: 8/21/25 21:56 (UTC)[Esikko already mentioned he tried adding more to his life, sending his diaries and journals into his new life with multiple limitations and drawbacks. Starting over again each time, incrementally getting better. But it's so damn slow and ineffective! Pisses him off just hearing about it! Given his own perfectionist and detailed nature, his pride rankles over hearing someone else tell him about a monumental botch. Go figure.
Urusei! Esikko got attacked/threatened a few hours ago! Of course he's going to damn door with him. Bakugo doesn't trust the hotel's fucking nosy nature to keep out of this mess. And yes, it's his room. You don't open the door to someone else's room! Fucking rude.]
SCRAM!! [Who the hell says shit about dating?! Two guys can be in the same room without being on a fucking date! WHAM! Door slams so hard, it probably gives the asshole a bit of wind to push him along. He twists the lock and deadbolts it before stalking off to the kitchen in a huff.]
Is your world's magic inherent or learnable?
[Big difference. People in his world can't "learn" to use another Quirk unless they have a transfer or copy Quirk, allowing it. Same thing for magic in many fantasy books. Either you're born with it or you're not, compared to other stories where it can be learned by almost anyone.
He sets two plates on the counter, then opens the bag and begins dishing out the foot. A healthy amount on his own plate, and a small amount on Esikko's. He's seen the guy eat. Portioning's adequate. No spicy gyoza for his majesty, unless he wants to burning his ass for another reason.]
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Date: 8/22/25 06:31 (UTC)Learnable, to start, but there's a degree that's inherent. Magic can be accessed in different ways, and each person has their own separate style. These methods can be inherited, such as my affinity for blood.
( He brings a hand to his chin, thoughtful as he regards Bakugo now. )
I could teach you, for example, the basics of spells. But you'd have to work more on your own for finding how to access those methods through your own... tools, I would say? I struggled before I read up and realized that it was blood magic that ran in my family.
( He will... eat eventually, probably. )
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Date: 8/22/25 20:05 (UTC)Who'd you inherit it from?
[Assuming it's passed down biologically in Esikko's world. He takes a seat at the counter and captures a gyoza between his chopsticks, then bites it clean in half, filling his mouth with spicy meat, vegetables, sauce, and a smattering of rice. Of course it's good; the peacock wouldn't serve an Ace shit food.]
Che. No way. [He detonates an explosion in his free hand.] My Quirk will do anything I want it to. I don't need another. [He learned that upon watching Midoriya unlike multiple Quirks from his own. An intense burning pride in his own Quirk and the strength he's honed within it all these years. His and his alone.] Magic doesn't exist in my world.
[At best he could learn the theory, how Esikko puts spells together, but at that point, he might as well be lying out a bunch of crap for a warlock's ritual without the end results. Until the warlock came back.]
Tell me how you put your spells together.
[That said, he's interested in this part. Mostly because he wants to help Esikko truncate his preparation or whatever takes him longer to cast.]
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Date: 8/24/25 21:56 (UTC)( He looks a little annoyed by that, but brushes along just as quickly. )
Magic exists everywhere. At least, the sort of magic I'm speaking of does. Perhaps the methods to harness it don't, but that's entirely separate. I'm sure your quirk could benefit you to use magic all the same.
( A quirk is just as much a "tool" in what he was saying, he thinks. But the invitation to explain spells in detail has him brightening, enough that he at least has a few bites of food before he gets to it. )
Magic is like... using the energy of the world around you. It doesn't exist in any one person, but rather is manipulated by living things such as people. Casting a spell, then, has many key points. First, you think of the end result that you'd desire.
Hmm, for example, I'll say the end result I'd desire is "simulating sunlight", since this is something I have to do frequently for my plants. Have you seen the little floating lights above them, from time to time? ( Like wireless grow lights... ) I first decided that in a place with only false sun, I needed to create something more real for them to thrive. After that, I have to map out the spell— this requires a technical knowledge on the working of the energy around us, visualizing it, and imagining how magic might flow through various pathways. Then, there is always a cost. What sort of cost could I offer to make up for the energy borrowed to create sunlight?
In most cases, my blood works well as a large cost. It's filled with Divinity, making it full of power, and blood in general is a great catalyst for magic if you know how to use it. Since I've inherited this familiarity with blood itself, I can do things like drink blood to restore energy from exhaustion, or use it as a battery for magic itself. There are many spells that are too complex and require more cost than just that, but in this case, the intensity and size of the sunlight are small enough that blood alone was capable.
With all that in mind, you then have to create a physical gateway for the energy to flow. Drawn symbols, specific in design for the purpose or direction you need, are learned through plenty of research and your own sense— but the medium you use has to be a good catalyst for that energy, as well. Blood, again, is something I use. Water wouldn't work at all, and something like... paint would be lacking. Imagining how to describe it is a bit difficult— it feels unclean, or fake, or perhaps a bit too thick or chemical? Another example, perhaps one more potent for you, would be ashes. You could certainly smear ash to a powder to trace symbols and open that door.
From there, you have a created spell. Oftentimes, the end result here is still rather clumsy and there are places where I can then go back and cut down. "Why turn right three times when I could turn left once?" Those sort of simple corrections can only be done at the end, balanced with cost and need. Weaving magic like this is physically taxing, depending on the length and complexity of the spell, too, and there are certain times where you struggle to find the right cost, or materials, or offerings... Or perhaps the pathway is muddied, and trying to clear it is difficult. There are so many factors.
( Yeah, Bakugo was right. Nerdy stampede is one way to put this. Esikko talks plenty when he wants to, but even this is a lot for him, and especially with so much energy and enthusiasm. )
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Date: 8/25/25 03:17 (UTC)[Skipping generations without being seen or shown until the perfect alignment suddenly brings it into light. Bakugo leans back in the seat, both arms resting on its sides. Esikko's offering him magic and his pride quickly rises up. His Quirk has always been with him since the start, he's never needed anything else, and ultimately, never wanted anything else. He intended to claim his dream with his strength alone! So no one could look at his results and say he was assisted by someone or something else. As if it wasn't 100% him.
Bakugo's never believed in magic before. Always a Quirk. Always science. Magic was make believe. But in this place, magic is very real. People bring it from their own worlds. The peacock replicates it. Fucking amazing and weird.
He bristles slightly when Esikko suggests his Quirk could "benefit" him to use magic, lips twitching and ashen brows furrowing over his red eyes.]
You heard me.
[There's a difference in learning a technique separate from him. He's picked up archer, marksmanship, martial arts, a host of skills and abilities, many of which don't play at all well with his Quirk, and some that do.
And yet... wouldn't it be cool to magic up something? Hmph. Little wide-eyed kid inside.
Esikko launches into a fucking litany of words, pouring out and chattering with all the energy of some fucking nerd rambling about his favorite topic. Bakugo sinks back in the seat, like he can somehow retreat from his bluster. With Midoriya, he definitely would be moving away, backing up with a flat face and growling about how creepy it is. Definitely creepy here too. Who the hell talks that much at once?!]
You're talking way too much, dammit!
[Right, that protest gets run over and swallowed by the maniac on the pulpit. So much for speaking out. He's left sunk in his seat and scowling by the time Esikko finally finishes his happy place.]
Urusei. [Yeah, he's not doing all that crap. Time to rein this guy in!] Get out the shit you use for the mind wipe spell.
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Date: 8/25/25 04:40 (UTC)( It's an immediate retort, one that hardly breaks the enthusiastic energy practically radiating from him right now. A mild annoyance, one that he's matching with the urgent flipping of his journal's pages, food forgotten for moments longer as he does. Any retort or argument from Bakugo on that is completely ignored and pushed through as he starts up again. )
It's not a mind wipe, it's a memory block. A seal, if you will. To make it succinct as possible... Goal: block access to any memories of one specific person. To lower the cost, make it temporary, with an expected expiration. The pathway: I used the higher energy connection of the basement and its overrunning of spirits to form the symbols required. Cost: burnings of rabbit fur, candles, and presenting a chunk of a lizard tail at the locations of the symbols. Also, physical contact, no matter how brief, and a transmission or insertion of just the tiniest bit of my blood. I planned on a needle, but that idiot came and grabbed my hand and sucked on my finger.
( During all of this, he sets out a few things from his bag on the table. The journal is turned to the correct page, symbols all drawn and described, and there are sealed jars of fur, blood, and a set of candles. Sealed and sanitary, and away from the food, don't worry. )
So, there are two methods that I can think of to move around shortening the requirement or extending the impact.
( He holds up his fingers one at a time to symbolize this, counting them off. )
One: rather than a memory block, a memory erasure. The cost would increase highly, and the energy required could be a problem for my body as it is now. Two: a stronger memory block, more permanent. It's cost isn't as high as erasure, as there's the potential for the barrier to break down over time or persistent agitation. It's still a higher cost than what I've already managed.
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