ras

@beyondredemp

He gets there early, unable to stay put in his dorms. He just– couldn’t think of much else, and he had done all of his other tasks anyway. And Rasmus Amir, god. Ras had made everything in his head all muddled, and he couldn’t even really blame him for it, not after hearing the circumstances behind, well– everything. Sneaking off campus had been easy, his quirk was versatile, and sharpened to the point where he could bypass all the security measures undetected. Wouldn’t even clock that he was gone.

So there he was. Waiting. A breath away from pacing back and forth. Ras would show up. He knew he would. They’d figure something out. They’d get him out of there. Make him safe. Get his mom. Mirio would do everything in his power to make sure of it.

          Ras is... really not sure if what he’s doing is right. While Mirio either way would try and help Ras, with his consent or not, he still feels like somehow he could stop him. Keep him from fucking his own life up or getting hurt in the process, because well, whats Permeation vs a fucking toxic cloud? BUT... on the other hand, the idea of getting free of his father was very, very appealing. No more breaking the law, no more hurting other people, no more getting hurt himself when he FUCKED UP. His dad had already gotten angry over him getting distracted by Mirio during the heist he’d interrupted, leaving the 19 year old with a black eye and split lip. Nothing too bad, but his face still ached, hood pulled far over his head at a small attempt to hide the damage.

         Sneaking out hadn’t been that hard though at least; his dad seemed to think his son too intimidated by him to do it, assuming that once he locked his bedroom door from the outside that, that was it and he’d stay put for the night. Not the case, obviously, as Ras was still just as agile as when he’d been in school, if not more, quickly jumping out the window of his bedroom and scaling the walls that surrounded his fathers hideout with ease. Then it’d just been a long, agonizing walk to the park he’d told Mirio to meet him at, nerves playing in his gut like he was a fucking piano, not a boy. It doesn’t help that he can see the other’s blond tuft of hair from a mile away, the student seated on one of the old swing sets as he waited for Ras to show up.

      oh so tomura decided to hire a clown to entertain them? well this guy better go back to clown college ‘cause dabi wasn’t fuckin’ laughing. he was just minding his own business on the couch, flipping through the stolen phone to see if there were any games he could play on it and this guy just had to make a comment about his appearance. why didn’t people talked about spinner? he was literally a fucking lizard. but nope.

        “ya man,” he doesn’t raise his head to look at him, hoping that eventually he’ll leave. “i was cooking grilled cheese and i burned my entire body. this is all i got left. grill cheese fire killed my family too, i’m pretty torn up over it.” he begins to play ‘cwazy cupcakes’, the sound emerging from the phone. “i guess this is why i’m so edgy. still mourning the death of my family. but hey one day i’ll get revenge on that grilled cheese.” 

          “WOW. A grilled cheese, huh? Are you lactose intolerant too, because that’d honestly be the icing on the cake with this, seriously.“ Ras honestly could care LESS if Mr. Piece-Of-Burnt-Swiss-Cheese wanted him to fuck off. There was literally NO ONE ELSE to bother right now, and Ras REFUSED to spend anymore time in here without doing something, lest his brain begin to ROT in his skull. Dabi’s answer even seemed to only invigorate him to annoy dabi more, plopping down to sit next to him, propping his head up on a hand as he leans over to watch him play his game. “At least your DRAMATIC ORIGIN STORY is an original one. Should get it COPYRIGHTED for when you become a BIG LEAGUE villain with all your buddies here.” He pauses then though-- considering the fact about the FAMILY bit. That could very well be real-- and with images of his mother flashing in his minds eye, there’s a tad of guilt squirming in his guy. 

ras .

         “OH, my only weapon is DEFINITELY not just my smartass mouth, cowboy number 2. It’s just an ADDED BONUS of my presence. Trust me, I’m the best with a knife in North America AND the best shot with a sniper riffle you’ll ever fuckin’ see.“ Well, well, well, it looks like Mr. Old Man has at LEAST a bit of a mouth on him too– maybe this wouldn’t be as boring as Ras had thought. 

        “BUT STILL ouch. I’m hurt, really, I am. The old man thinks I’m INCOMPETENT and hasn’t even seen me crack a shot yet,” he shakes his head with exaggeration, letting out a fake sigh as he shrugs, “truly. I’m deeply wounded here. You’ve just stuck a knife in me and TWISTED.” And with that, Ras is standing, picking up the large case by his side and slinging it over his shoulder, arching a brow at Whiskey. “WHATEVER. Pain is inconsequential when you’re getting paid big bucks to do what you’re good at AND what you enjoy. So who’re we killing today under the pretense of saving the world or whatever? They said they were leaving the briefing to you.”

           God, this kid was never going to stop talking, was he?? He just kept going on and on and Whiskey was finding it difficult to not just grab him and gag him so he stayed quiet. If this was going to be what the entire mission was like, then he would have to reassign himself somewhere else or they would never be dealing with this mercenary again. Either Ras would leave of his own accord or Whiskey would take care of him himself.

              “ Of course they left it to me. ” Because Champ was too busy doing nothing else. Sighing, he picked up one of his files on his desk and handed it over. “ Cartel leader’s in the area runnin’ a big shipment. He’s got the cops on his payroll and power in higher places. We gotta take him out because our former tries at deconstructin’ them failed horribly. ”