@tenthousandarrows​​ // plotted starter

Just how long do I have to wait here?

Dabi initially didn’t want to wake Sleeping Beauty up but after five minutes of sitting on the floor next to the bed and just waiting for Masaki to stir awake, his patience is starting to run its course. He stares up at the archer’s soft sleeping features, recalling the severe stab wound the guy had to go through in the middle of that breach security nonsense. Dabi still hasn’t found the chance to tell him that the incident was due to his indiscretion but he does plan on telling him soon.

Maybe after he’s fully recovered. Maybe. Admitting that to Masaki could also mean losing his one and only meal ticket and quite frankly, Dabi isn’t ready to give up warm homemade meals just yet. Tired sapphire eyes trace down to the bandage wrapped around the other male’s middle and he wonders if poking his injury would be enough to jolt him awake. But then his pondering doesn’t last long when he sees Masaki slowly waking up.

❝Oh good, you’re up.❞ The villain fishes out the apple he’s been hiding in his pocket and offers it to the rousing resident of the apartment he just broke into. ❝I dunno where people get those Get Well Soon balloons so here’s an apple.❞

          Dabi’s unexpected presence in the room injected the scare of a life time into Masaki as he forced one eye open to greet the world of the living ensuing weeks of convalescing and mostly sleep. The painful sting of stitched skin straining and muscles kick starting again after a long stretch of bed rest dragged a low groan from the archer as he jolted up from sheer surprise, deeply regretting that course of action and slumping back onto the mattress seconds later with a thwump! Note to self, avoid sudden movements for now. 

          With a slow crane of his neck, Masaki rolled his head towards Dabi, confusion riddling his expression; mostly over how the other had managed to infiltrate his room on top of wondering how long he’d been sat there, lingering by his bedside. It was slightly creepy, but befitting of his mysterious acquaintance, and the offer of an apple soon scrawled a smile along his lips despite the oddity of their situation.

❝An apple will do fine.❞ Masaki laughed, reaching for the fruit though he doesn’t bite into it yet.

❝You’re probably hungry too, right?❞ Why else would he be here afterall.

❝As you can imagine, I haven’t been cooking, but there should be take out in the fridge. You can help yourself, though I doubt someone who breaks into people’s apartments is the type to need permission.❞ 

❥ @tenthousandarrows​ {S.C}

“Well how was I suppose to know that a microwave is rather picky? I had half the mind to throw it out the window considering the noises it was emitting. Nonetheless I think I rather start an open fire rather than resort to using it again. ”

❝They can be a bit tricky to navigate, the more modern versions especially have way too many buttons. I wouldn’t advise throwing it out of the window though, you don’t know who it’ll land on.❞ 

@tenthousandarrows / starter call.

💛 💜 ❤️ || ❝oh my, what a BEAUTIFUL and well kept creature, you are.❞ she’s communicating with the owl as if that’s a COMPLETELY normal thing to do, noting how PRISTINE in condition the avian is. ❝young man, is this your pet?❞

❝Wha--?❞ Oh, she was referring to Who, of course she was. Masaki breathed a laugh under his breath, it certainly would have been one of the more unique compliments he received if it had been aimed at him!

@tenthousandarrows​

Catra was in her favorite napping spot in the Cotes ward. Cats were so common in this ward nobody bugged her. An owl descended from the sky, and landed right on top of her head. Still sleepy, Catra swatted at the air to get the owl to fly away. 

She blinked and as she saw it take off again, she wondered just for a moment what it would be like to fly. If she could leave, take off into the sky or sea, she would have run away from the fight zone a long time ago. Wings like those, she wanted them. 

Catra suddenly got on all fours and went chasing after the bird. She bounded, and lept onto a nearby high wall, balanced on the top of it, and then jumped to a nearby rooftop. She kept running following the bird until she reached a small forest clearing.

Catra pounced. The bird simply flew out of the way escaping her claws, but as Catra fell she hit a blue haired man instead. “Ow. Stupid asshole bird.” Catra said, before she looked down on who she had landed on.“I’m not going to say sorry for landing on you. Don’t you think it’s your fault for standing there?” 

          The trees fringing the mouth of the Mistwood provided good target practice for Masaki to attempt with the toy bow and arrow he’d been given. If he could repeatedly hit a bullseyes with shoddy equipment like this, then it’d be a breeze once he got his hands on proper archery gear again. Stopping for a short pause once his vision began seeing double from focusing too much on the same spot for hours, Masaki pulled a bottle of water from his Hakama pocket and splashed a little on his face, tilting his head up suddenly upon hearing some sort of commotion taking place in the branches above.

          Next thing he knew, a shadow was looming upon him; Not very large, but fast, soon landing square on his shoulders and drawing a startled cry out of him as his balance teetered precariously back ad fourth, trying not to collapse under the additional weight.

❝What the Hell?!❞ Deep blue eyes blinked in surprise, confused as to what exactly was currently straddled around his neck. A girl? A very big cat? A cat girl??

❝No, I don’t think it’s my fault.❞ He sternly retorted.

❝Sheesh, A for effort.❞ Dabi couldn’t hold back the entertained smile stretching his lips as he watches Masaki’s failed attempt of standing up on his own. He knew the guy isn’t going to be able to straighten up so freely with that chunk of glass pierced on his side, and yet the pyromaniac kept quiet just to see if Masaki might be able to prove him wrong.

Unfortunately, he didn’t.

With a disappointed sigh, Dabi leans in and carefully takes the other male’s arm to sling it over his shoulders. If this were anyone else, he would have left them to die in the unforgiving storm. But Masaki just happens to be very beneficial to him— he cooks him homemade meals whenever the villain doesn’t have the energy nor the desire to mug anyone. Plus, he doesn’t ask questions which is something a lot of people should learn if they want to stay safe from his flames.

Dabi keeps his body warm enough for comfort as he takes a gander of their surroundings in search of shelter. He could only use his quirk for so long after all and he’d like to be within the safe convenience of a roof over his head should his quirk reach its utmost limit. His eyes catch on some abandoned warehouse not too far from where they’re standing.

❝All right, we’re going that way then I’ll take a look at that mess you’ve put yourself into.❞

          Masaki wasn’t sure if it was the debilitating pain spreading all over that caused him to temporarily blackout again, leaving Dabi having to drag his half limp body through droves of snow, or the slow but steady stream of blood oozing from the gnarly gash. Either way, when he came to properly after a brief lapse in consciousness, it was inside the sheltered beams of an unknown building. Presumably the one Dabi mentioned before his mind fuzzed over and went blank for a while.

          Eyes struggling to adjust through the dim lighting, a sudden wave of panic rushed through him when he could no longer spot the other man or so much as an ember of the blue fire he emitted. Masaki wouldn’t have blamed him if he’d just dumped him here and jetted off again, the entire island was in crisis and he was one barely surviving piece on a much, much bigger board. Oh man, getting pelted by glass debris and sitting in a pool of his own leaking life fluids sure had turned him into a fatalistic mope.

❝Dabi, are you still here?❞ 

The winter storm almost seemed as though it came out of nowhere, or maybe he had been too invested in navigating his way through in search of more access points that he hadn’t noticed the dropping of the temperature. It’s impossible to figure out where he is now, not when the usual landmarks are covered under an incredibly thick layer of snow. He had kept himself warm throughout his venture by keeping his entire body veiled in his flames but he could only use them for so long before he could feel the actual burn slowly scarring him again. No amount of fire could dissolve the snow away before more snow comes piling up. 

This is a fucking blizzard after all. Not just another fight with Geten.

Dabi reignites his flames again in an attempt to at least see where he’s going. But that brief flash of blue is enough to have him catch a glimpse of a very familiar figure resting against the nearest building. With suspicion crinkling his eyes, he bathes himself in his flames again despite his skin screaming at him to take it easy and saunters over to the collapsed figure. He eventually allows his fire to dissipate when he stops in front of who appears to be someone he actually knows quite well. 

❝You look comfortable.❞ Marred on ghostly pale skin is a piece of glass jutting out of a grotesque gash, blood spilling down and staining the snow red— not exactly a display of Masaki Dabi would’ve thought of seeing today but would be lying if he said he didn’t dream of it at least once. ❝Need a hand?❞

          A feeble laugh croaked out of deathly pale lips, every nerve in his body thrumming in pain from that tiny movement alone. Masaki wasn’t holding his breath on being able get up anytime soon even with a hand lent in aid, but he nodded weakly at the offer anyway.

❝That’d be nice.❞

          Thanks to Dabi’s fire, his limbs were starting to feel less frigid and more like extensions of his body again instead of giant icicles melded to his stump. Not wanting to brand himself too much of a burden despite the obvious handicap he suffered, Masaki embarked on the uncomfortable attempt of getting on his feet without needing to be hoisted up like a sack of rice. Back flat against the icy bricks, he slid himself up the wall inch by agonising inch, his blood leaving the artery it belonged in, in a slow but steady dribble.

          He’d only made it about half way before violently doubling over, hand quickly moving to his side to steady the jutting shard nicking at a particularly tender area of flesh.

❝Shit, aaahh!❞ His breath flew out in long wheezes.

          Pain throbbed in his side where from a steadily gashing wound protruded the clear,  jagged edge of a glass shard, courtesy of ricocheting debris Masaki had found himself in the firing line of. When it waned, he could just about continue his slow wade across the sector turned tundra overnight. When it returned though, the archer could only hold still and breathe, slow and deep until the discomfort passed. More than once the temptation to curl up in the snow and let it take him to the afterlife crossed his mind. His hope for surviving the ordeal had become as brittle as the air itself, fragile and easily shattered.

          After an indeterminable period which could have been minutes just as easily as hours, his body crashed against the side of a snowed over building, too feeble to find his way to the entrance if one was even accessible. Eyes heavy as if being weighed down by boulders, Masaki stopped fighting the bone deep exhaustion wracking his body, falling into a slumber he wasn’t certain he’d awake from. But awaken he eventually did, shepherded back to consciousness bathed in the prettiest blue glow, his frozen skin thawing under billowing strokes of heat.