kanashii-na:
┋ 蒼炎⋙—.❝Ohh? Is that fatalistic shit part of the curriculum you’re spoon-feeding Shouto, too? C’mon, UA-sensei, you’re making me worry for the future.❞
Of course it was more likely that Eraserhead so altruistically dispensed the wisdom for his benefit, alone, indirectly citing some misguided conviction that his goals wouldn’t come to pass. But that wasn’t as interesting as referencing his own uncanny familiarity with Endeavor’s youngest. He knew that Aizawa’s students were a stirring force behind the otherwise unflappable man, and by now, he had seen the lengths that he would strive for, to protect and nurture them. It was part of what set Eraserhead apart from the rest of “hero” chaff that clamored for undeserved recognition.
A direct confrontation with the UA instructor was critically disadvantageous for him; Aizawa’s quirk was quite the problem. If he could obscure his form from sight, then perhaps he could scrape out a level playing field, but the scruffy fellow was as quick as he was clever, and no ruse would last long against his cultivated instincts. Dabi was only slinking around to collect a little information; Eraserhead’s presence was an unexpected development. He said his bit, but he absolutely intended to call upon their ally’s teleportation quirk to get the hell out of range, should Aizawa step up to the offensive. An exchange of information would be more beneficial, though.
❝Speaking of disappointment,
did you want to know what I’m after?❞
Endure, overcome;;that FEAR]];;
Crippling fatigue in the face of such errant, wayward youth - even if the time spent on earth could have the potential to be similar to his own, everything from stance and expression to the haggard barking of a pup so CONVINCED THAT THEIR IDEALS ALONE were the righteous end to a corrupt era cried the folly of inexperience. It was unfortunate, really - but he was never one to encourage self-destruction. If this guy had come to him as a student, he’d be out the door as soon as that hellish quirk of his tasted the flesh of its owner. But that didn’t seem to be the issue here, just who had told him no, and when? Overclocked musculature on the edge of a crosshair, poised to disallow escape at the slightest inclination, spider-silk loose around a predator’s neck. Of course, a single twitch of the eye - - DON’T YOU DARE CALL THEM BY NAME. It was just a taunt. The spiritfire villain wasn’t stupid, but that had never seemed to stop that mouth.
“It shouldn’t matter what I’m teaching my students, you don’t plan on allowing them the future they’re after, either way. Hn? No. I don’t care, I’m tired.”
Rumbling bass trickling from a languid cavern - no move was made to dissuade the conversation from continuing, as even his gaze remained dark, leaving derelict flames to eat their host from the inside out for another moment.
