[Fuck this place. He feels no remorse or regret for destroying the hallway, standing amid its smoking ruins with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders rounded in a delinquent slump, face set in a scowl which could kill lesser men. Footsteps perk his ears and he lifts his head, eyes locking onto Zelo as he appears around the corner.]
Tch. [So damn carefree. Why shouldn't he be? This place is a fucking vacation for Zelos. Bakugo turns on his feet, gritting debris under his shoes, and leads into his room, silently expecting the man to follow him through the double doors.]
( Yeah, a vacation. That's the story he's sticking to, anyway, and he doesn't mind playing into that as he follows along after Bakugo, arms lifting to fold behind his head like he doesn't have a care in the world. He lets out a long whistle. )
So, an Ace rank, huh? Guess you're really living the high life, then.
( Granted, his tone is a little less grating than he'd normally put on. He's still a bit muted, eyes trailing to take in whatever he can about Bakugo's space. )
Still not good enough, though. ( For someone who wants to go home. )
[An Ace rank. Yeah, whatever. His suite's completely rearranged and redone now, serving as a modern Japanese apartment with stone built and wooden accents, and carrying the comfort of a well-off home. He's repaired almost all of the main room since destroying it at the end of August.]
Urusei. It's a place to live. [Bakugo hadn't cared much about his rank for himself, but rather gambled on the rank system to become an Ace so he could use the rank to help others when necessary. Somewhat safer than blowing up shit to get his point across... though nowadays, he's far less reserved about doing so.]
You want something to drink? I've got water, tea, juice, and sports drinks.
( It's hard to want to drink anything with so much on his mind, and even if he assumes Bakugo wants the busy work of doing typical hosting, he's sure he'd be more pissed at the waste of it if he didn't touch it. Does he even need to drink anymore? It's something he's been wondering, something he's too afraid to test out, and so he lets that thought fall aside. )
C'mere, I want you to feel something.
( Weird, maybe, but he holds his hand out all the same, like he's expecting a hand grip. He's not really picky how Bakugo chooses to do it, but he'll explain why while waiting: )
I've been cold since I woke up, and temperature isn't usually an issue for me. Tell me if you feel it, too, or if it's in my head.
( But if he does touch— it's not in Zelos' head, he is a bit chilly to the touch. At least it's not completely lifeless, but bringing it up means he's been thinking about it. He's just glad he can still feel when coffee is hot or cold, but it's weird, right? )
[Bakugo tugs the fridge door open and sweeps a water bottle from its shelf. He closes the door with a blind push of his foot as he heads further into the kitchen. Only to wrap around the large island and head into the living room area splayed out in front of them. A sunken section containing a sectional couch (with pullout bed), sofa chairs, impressive entertainment center, bookshelves, and large window seat by his fake-scenery wall windows.]
Huh? ["Feel" something? His face screws slightly in suspicious confusion, one brow arches and his lips setting in a suspect scowl. Peering at Zelos from several feet away, Bakugo eyes the offered hand, getting an idea already of what the guy's getting at.
Statue remnant. He makes no motion to cross the space and touch him for now.] How long ago did you wake up?
( Can't a guy get confirmation around here!! Ugh, but he doesn't want to admit that the clubs suit was really screwing with his mind before he disappeared, either... So instead, he just presses his lips together for a moment, hand hanging limp from the wrist where he'd offered it for a moment longer before he just drops that arm wholly. )
Back at the camping tents. Didn't have my mark then, and then I woke up with it again... a day ago?
( He doesn't bother mentioning that he has extra suit marks beneath it right now, either. It's irrelevant. )
Most of what I remember from that time as a statue is that it was cold, too.
[Not if he's gonna couch it in "come over here and touch me" offerings! Fucking creepy! Bakugo lifts his water bottle and aggressively chugs half of it. He's not looking, but he's listening to Zelos. A few things he says pique his interest. Water sloshes into the bottle as he drops his hand and holds it by the neck, fingers gripping like a five-prong claw machine.]
So you were treated like a newcomer despite being here before...
[He hated the reality Zelos brought up. That people didn't go home; they were turned into statues. BUT... everyone who's brought here as a newcomer and doesn't stay, none of those people are reduced to statues. They never had a mark, never were officially guests, and the resort blew them away like they didn't exist but in memory. So people can go home, without being turned into a statue...]
( He lifts a hand to rub at the back of his neck, where said mark happens to be— it's covered well enough by his hair, but if this kid is getting so worked up about the workings of this place, he'd feel too wrong holding back information that could be important. No point. )
Same clubs suit as before, but the House added some more to it. Like, a whole three extra suits— diamonds, right under it. Sent me a message saying I gotta screw them all away or I'll get hit with all three at once.
( His hand peels away from his neck in a gesture, palm up, almost like a shrug. )
So, just your standard entry fee at a place like this, right? Seems like they give everyone some kinda task or item or curse.
Hmph. Typical. [The House usually stuck its newcomers or returning prisoners with some first-month curse bullshit. He remembers his own. Didn't really bother him much since he kept to himself and did his own exploring away from people.
Tugging the fridge door open, he sticks his head inside and pulls out a chunk of chicken, balancing it on one hand while the other fishes out some vegetables. The door closes with a "whump" via his foot as he heads to his kitchen island and deposits the ingredients on the counter.]
For the first month. [A minute later, there's a rectangular grill-like skillet on the stove burner, a splay of metal skewers on the counter, and two cutting boards with bowls beside.]
( For the first month, right. He doesn't feel like adding the extra context— that he was working with the House, before, that he got a little too bold with it and annoyed it, that this whole thing is supposedly a "test" to get him back on its side. With a sigh, he paces a few times before finding some chair nearby to flop into, turning it around so that he can straddle it and fold his arms over the back. )
Are you trying to convince me, or just yourself?
( His eyes follow Bakugo at work in the kitchen, even. )
Besides, does it really matter? The fact that anyone can turn into them in the first place is what's messed up.
[Bakugo has done a lot of research and delving into the statues, enough he's got his own theories and ideas about them. Shit he now has to jostle around Zelos' reveal. Someone was left petrified and now claims he was awake the entire time he was stuck as a statue, never went home, never saw his own world again. But other guests, the wildcards, don't leave statues. And still others have gone back home while a new "version" of themselves come back, not having memories of the previous "them" and their experiences here.]
It matters because people want to go home, dammit! [He thought, even if they were statues, the being in question would return to their own worlds, their own times, own lives.]
If people never leave the resort, then the "us" here are nothing more than copies of the "us" back home. Nothing we do here matters to our worlds.
( Now Bakugo's just getting existential on him. He is not mentally prepared for this. He gets it, of course, he gets it more than anyone, but it's annoying him to witness, for some reason. )
Even if that were true, would you be any less "yourself" than the other you? Of course you matter.
( You, he says, rather than we, but it doesn't matter either way. )
So the things you do matter, too. To the people around you, the people waiting on you here. You can think it sucks all you want, but don't let it change anything you're doing.
[In a way, this also frees people from the need to go home. If nothing here they do matters to the "them" back in their own world, they have no reason to return save for personal curiosity or desire. Their worlds aren't moving without them, they aren't missing anything, their lives simply carry on as the copy here does whatever "here" it wants. Fucking pain in the ass reality to stare at.]
I'm saying there's no need for us to return home. [Which could make the idea they can't go home easier to swallow. It... does not.]
Haa? Of course I'm not gonna let this stop me! I'll still tear this shitty bird to pieces! [Even if it might be pointless!]
( He's sure people like this guy actually want to return home, have reasons to, people who want them there, things they can do. He's a little bitter about that, a little jealous, but he knows better than to point that at Bakugo or anyone else. Instead, he just sighs. )
If you find out there's another you running around back home, what are you gonna do?
( He's just curious at this point, watching Bakugo, arms still crossed. )
Stay here? Find somewhere else? Fight yourself to the death?
[Of course he wants to return home! There are things there he has to do, people he has to save, people he needs to see and a life he needs to live! Goals he'll never accomplish here. And yet... there are people here Bakugo cares about now, to the point of stopping his feet if he were ever offered as single-ticket trip back. Shit.]
There won't be, idiot. I've know people who went back home before. I've met people here from my own world. Nothing changes in our lives back home because of this stupid place.
[Another reason he has a hard time believing people here DON'T go back home. Though, it's also a good proof for the opposite result too. Ugh, this fucking place.]
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no subject
Date: 10/9/25 14:17 (UTC)Tch. [So damn carefree. Why shouldn't he be? This place is a fucking vacation for Zelos. Bakugo turns on his feet, gritting debris under his shoes, and leads into his room, silently expecting the man to follow him through the double doors.]
no subject
Date: 10/15/25 00:01 (UTC)So, an Ace rank, huh? Guess you're really living the high life, then.
( Granted, his tone is a little less grating than he'd normally put on. He's still a bit muted, eyes trailing to take in whatever he can about Bakugo's space. )
Still not good enough, though. ( For someone who wants to go home. )
no subject
Date: 10/15/25 03:50 (UTC)Urusei. It's a place to live. [Bakugo hadn't cared much about his rank for himself, but rather gambled on the rank system to become an Ace so he could use the rank to help others when necessary. Somewhat safer than blowing up shit to get his point across... though nowadays, he's far less reserved about doing so.]
You want something to drink? I've got water, tea, juice, and sports drinks.
no subject
Date: 10/17/25 03:28 (UTC)( It's hard to want to drink anything with so much on his mind, and even if he assumes Bakugo wants the busy work of doing typical hosting, he's sure he'd be more pissed at the waste of it if he didn't touch it. Does he even need to drink anymore? It's something he's been wondering, something he's too afraid to test out, and so he lets that thought fall aside. )
C'mere, I want you to feel something.
( Weird, maybe, but he holds his hand out all the same, like he's expecting a hand grip. He's not really picky how Bakugo chooses to do it, but he'll explain why while waiting: )
I've been cold since I woke up, and temperature isn't usually an issue for me. Tell me if you feel it, too, or if it's in my head.
( But if he does touch— it's not in Zelos' head, he is a bit chilly to the touch. At least it's not completely lifeless, but bringing it up means he's been thinking about it. He's just glad he can still feel when coffee is hot or cold, but it's weird, right? )
no subject
Date: 10/17/25 06:08 (UTC)Huh? ["Feel" something? His face screws slightly in suspicious confusion, one brow arches and his lips setting in a suspect scowl. Peering at Zelos from several feet away, Bakugo eyes the offered hand, getting an idea already of what the guy's getting at.
Statue remnant. He makes no motion to cross the space and touch him for now.] How long ago did you wake up?
no subject
Date: 10/17/25 07:01 (UTC)Back at the camping tents. Didn't have my mark then, and then I woke up with it again... a day ago?
( He doesn't bother mentioning that he has extra suit marks beneath it right now, either. It's irrelevant. )
Most of what I remember from that time as a statue is that it was cold, too.
no subject
Date: 10/17/25 23:59 (UTC)So you were treated like a newcomer despite being here before...
[He hated the reality Zelos brought up. That people didn't go home; they were turned into statues. BUT... everyone who's brought here as a newcomer and doesn't stay, none of those people are reduced to statues. They never had a mark, never were officially guests, and the resort blew them away like they didn't exist but in memory. So people can go home, without being turned into a statue...]
Did you get a different mark this time?
no subject
Date: 10/29/25 21:54 (UTC)( He lifts a hand to rub at the back of his neck, where said mark happens to be— it's covered well enough by his hair, but if this kid is getting so worked up about the workings of this place, he'd feel too wrong holding back information that could be important. No point. )
Same clubs suit as before, but the House added some more to it. Like, a whole three extra suits— diamonds, right under it. Sent me a message saying I gotta screw them all away or I'll get hit with all three at once.
( His hand peels away from his neck in a gesture, palm up, almost like a shrug. )
So, just your standard entry fee at a place like this, right? Seems like they give everyone some kinda task or item or curse.
no subject
Date: 10/30/25 23:47 (UTC)Tugging the fridge door open, he sticks his head inside and pulls out a chunk of chicken, balancing it on one hand while the other fishes out some vegetables. The door closes with a "whump" via his foot as he heads to his kitchen island and deposits the ingredients on the counter.]
For the first month. [A minute later, there's a rectangular grill-like skillet on the stove burner, a splay of metal skewers on the counter, and two cutting boards with bowls beside.]
Not everyone gets turned into statues.
no subject
Date: 11/13/25 18:16 (UTC)Are you trying to convince me, or just yourself?
( His eyes follow Bakugo at work in the kitchen, even. )
Besides, does it really matter? The fact that anyone can turn into them in the first place is what's messed up.
no subject
Date: 11/17/25 20:37 (UTC)It matters because people want to go home, dammit! [He thought, even if they were statues, the being in question would return to their own worlds, their own times, own lives.]
If people never leave the resort, then the "us" here are nothing more than copies of the "us" back home. Nothing we do here matters to our worlds.
[And having a pointless existence ... sucks!]
no subject
Date: 11/20/25 00:57 (UTC)Even if that were true, would you be any less "yourself" than the other you? Of course you matter.
( You, he says, rather than we, but it doesn't matter either way. )
So the things you do matter, too. To the people around you, the people waiting on you here. You can think it sucks all you want, but don't let it change anything you're doing.
no subject
Date: 11/20/25 23:04 (UTC)I'm saying there's no need for us to return home. [Which could make the idea they can't go home easier to swallow. It... does not.]
Haa? Of course I'm not gonna let this stop me! I'll still tear this shitty bird to pieces! [Even if it might be pointless!]
no subject
Date: 11/21/25 03:10 (UTC)If you find out there's another you running around back home, what are you gonna do?
( He's just curious at this point, watching Bakugo, arms still crossed. )
Stay here? Find somewhere else? Fight yourself to the death?
no subject
Date: 11/22/25 01:25 (UTC)There won't be, idiot. I've know people who went back home before. I've met people here from my own world. Nothing changes in our lives back home because of this stupid place.
[Another reason he has a hard time believing people here DON'T go back home. Though, it's also a good proof for the opposite result too. Ugh, this fucking place.]