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—OPEN POST.
TEXT — COMMS — ACTION — NSFW
( anything is free game, go for it )
TEXT — COMMS — ACTION — NSFW
( anything is free game, go for it )
TEXT — COMMS — ACTION — NSFW
( anything is free game, go for it )
TEXT — COMMS — ACTION — NSFW
( anything is free game, go for it )
no subject
it's too late for that, and right now, he just has to deal with the unlucky lot that he's been handed, which means cursing and following Bakugo inside to grab him by the collar of his shirt before he can run off in some rich person's house. ]
I don't care if you think ghosts are real, Katsuki, I'm telling you how we handle this case. [ being too physical with Bakugo will just end in a fight, so he's quick to let go of his hold and step away from him. ] This is an investigation, not a ghost hunt — because there are no goddamn ghosts.
[ he says he doesn't care, but he's still going to insist until the end, when it turns out that — surprise, surprise — he was right all along.
as an afterthought, he goes to close the door behind them, glances at the security system while he's there; he wonders if they can get a log of everyone that entered the house leading up to the murder, see if anything stands out. it's a week-old murder case, he'll take anything he can get. he also doesn't want to turn his back on Bakugo for more than thirty seconds at a time, so he'll leave that thought for later. ]
Look. Every "occult" case I've worked has been a lie someone made up so that I wouldn't notice the blood on their hands. Anyone who tells you their house is haunted is either crazy or guilty.
no subject
[ Juno might be quick to release him, but the message has been sent, loud and clear. Bakugo's elbow, his whole arm, swings back and whiffs through empty air, lashing out without a second thought to his actions. while he cannot connect with anything ( someone's light on their feet for a quirkless weirdo -- ), he hopes it televises his own mood. the things he will and won't put up with. he might be a child in the eyes of the whoever put him in this program, but there's no such thing as childhood in this place.
and there's no way he's going to put up with being hauled around by anyone, let alone Juno. ]
Listen. I can do the job that they asked us to do and handle your ego on the job that you think we ought to be doing.
[ he's as tall as his "teacher", give or take an inch, and he'll only grow taller as he gets older. on the steps, poised like he is, it's easy to lean the width of his shoulders in menacingly, posturing with sudden calm, sudden clarity. recognition of their mutual disrepect and some sort of mirrored self-loathing. there's little affection in his heart for people who don't know their rightful place ( following him, not trying to lead him -- ), but Juno is more than that. less than that? he's something, all right. ]
You don't look people in the eyes often, do you? They were sincere about what they were sayin'.
[ that's the question he asks. blunt, sharp. like some prying, wicked instrument that's meant to get up between the ribs and flay someone open; Bakugo makes a show of flexing his fingers, and then slipping his hands into his pockets. fine, he can Not Touch Anything, but like hell if he's going to stick around in the foyer while Juno investigates every bookshelf and corner. they were told that the worst of the hauntings were in the kitchen, there: where the client said that the murder took place.
that's where HE'S going, first and foremost. teacher or no teacher. ] And hey -- touch me again and I'll blow your damn hands off.
no subject
christ, the kid really is too much like he was — the only reason Juno moves back in time is because he'd been betting on that, knew that he would have taken a swing at anyone who got that close to him when he was a scrawny, snarling brat. he could probably avoid the landmines of Bakugo's temper if he tried, thought about it in terms of what used to get to his own short fuse. instead he thinks he might be deliberately setting him off. like he might get some kind of vicious satisfaction out of digging his knuckle into those bruises and he's still fucking surprised when it just hurts.
he follows Bakugo through into the kitchen and wonders how a kid can come out of a life like the kind they've both had and believe in anything, much less ghosts. the people he knows who buy into shit like that, they go all the way with it; people like Mick Mercury who'll latch onto anything because it keeps them going and it means being in denial about how bad their lives really are. Bakugo... he doesn't understand where it's coming from with Bakugo. ]
Sincere doesn't mean anything. That just brings the possibilities down to crazy and/or stupid. If they're superstitious, then it's both. [ and then he pauses a moment; considers. instead of starting to pull the room apart as he usually does, he leans against the wall and crosses his arms. ] But if you're so sure you know best, then go ahead. Take the lead on this one, Ace Detective.
[ there's no time pressure and no life on the line. he can let Bakugo spin his wheels as long as he wants and it'll still be making some kind of progress towards collecting whatever scraps of evidence there are to be found here. ]