#iimperium

   “Well... It depends on what you want to do!”

After all, he didn’t want to try and make the other boy wear something he wasn’t interested in. That seemed sort of- selfish. He was not, however, above gently pushing the idea to see if Hitoshi was open to the prospect. It would be cute!

                      “We can look online though. There’s always a bunch of cute ideas, there... Like, salt and pepper or, uh, something like that!” But maybe not that exactly. 

She saw smoke. There was no doubt about it, it was definitely smoke she saw curling above the treetops; and where there's smoke, there's fire and where there's fire, there are people (and hopefully food). 

The girl had been wandering through the woods for quite some time in search of a village and it had gotten dark before she knew it (though back home she was used to spending her nights comfortably among the whispering trees, these woods didn't feel very calming, nor friendly once the sun went down). She hugged her growling stomach and made her way to the source of the smoke, a small camp illuminated by the soft warm glow of campfire. She moved out from the darkness of the woods and into the edging light of the camp, eyes locking onto the back of a tall and fur cloak-clad... boy? She wasn't sure what she was expecting but somehow seeing a boy about the same age as her in the middle of the woods at night slightly surprised her (and maybe disappointed her?).

"H-Hi there, sorry to intrude!”

    His breath is heavy with the scent of alcohol. 

            After all, it wasn’t often that he was allowed to indulge himself in this manner- considering the fact that Tomura so frequently pushed them to move from one place to another. Justified, perhaps, but bothersome nonetheless. 

    To live with so little to your name was still somewhat of a foreign concept, though one thing that had stuck close with him was Dabi’s preference for indulgence. 

                              There was no work to be done soon, and he was still in control. So, what was the harm in occupying one of the many tavern seats? To scan the crowd absently, pulse thrumming through his nearly too warm body when- yes, he spotted something of interest. 

    A man. Or, rather, a boy? He couldn’t be quite sure, though that was of no concern. 

 What did strike the man to be of interest was what he seemed to be wearing. A pelt thicker then what was needed for a land this far south, a plentiful collection of charms, and the near suffocating aura of magic at work. 

                 He stuck out in the crowd, skin too swallow to be familiar with the area and, to a likewise eye, the appearance of a traveler. How very, very curious this character was.                                                                       It would be hard to mistake him for another, which meant that the bit of gossip Dabi had happened upon earlier within the day was now of quite some concern. 

           “A fortune teller.” One woman tells the next, in the stall next to the one he was perusing. Her dark hair is plaited down her back in neat rows, and the clothes she wears are tailored to her measurements. It’s easy to tell that she has some money to her name, and she walks the market for the sake of entertainment rather then necessity. 

                       Her friend, similarly styled with the exception of a neckline that peaks deliciously low, leans forward with interest. It’s not often they get such gifted visitors. 

                                               “He told me to keep to familiar paths, but-”

        The women’s voices are easily droned out, becoming part of the white noise this town’s patrons provide. His own attention never fully returns to the items he browses from various merchants, and at the end he leaves empty handed. 

                                                                                                    Given, he has no idea what that fortune teller appearance is. Though, he would be willing to bet that he’s hit the target on it’s mark this time around. No one else radiates such an energy and Dabi is, if nothing else, a man willing to gamble. 

  So he follows the path this stranger creates, and when he leaves the tavern he is trailed. Nothing sinister this time around, rather he has struck the man’s curiosity and for that he reaps the consequences of this simple intrusion. 

                                                                                          “How much?”              His hands are tucked into his pockets, ambling over with such a languid gait one might assume his favorite past time is drowning himself in sorrows at the bar counter. 

send me a ✧ and i’ll bold all that apply to your muse.