(open) truth be told, none of this really matters,

[bristle]

Who: Edgar Valden & you!
When: Mid-late April
What: Intro (3rd floor/Art room)

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01.) だめそうかな、ざまみろ

•　Mid-April — 3rd floor

( it's some time in the mid-evening. late enough for most all of the regular students to have left the school grounds, but early enough that the chatter of transfer students' voices and rustling around still echoes through the halls. edgar, for one, isn't interested in any of that. rather than the people, it's the creatures of this place that draw his attention; namely, a little black cat, which he's learned is none too fond of human contact itself. you know what? he respects it. same, bitch.

hence why he remains pretty respectful of its desire to keep its distance. upon spotting it, resting in any room on the third floor, edgar is already prepared. with a sketchbook and a handful of charcoal in his pockets, he crouches down a good while before he manages to get close enough to spook the thing. instead, he begins tracing out a gesture with the charcoal in his hands—stained black, by the way. this obviously isn't his first attempt. and when somebody walks through the nearest doorway, spooking the poor, black cat away again? it's obviously not going to be the last. meeting their eyes with a sharp expression, his voice is absolutely dripping with contempt. )

You, is there something wrong with your eyes?

( why! would you do that!!! )

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02.) 戻りたいのは　あんな籠

•　Late April — Art room

( or maybe you find him in his natural habitat. that's fair, he doesn't have exclusive claim to the art room, after all—as much as he may wish that he did. especially at a time like this. he'll still act like he does, though. he treats it like it's his own personal studio, and when someone enters, they may find that... compared to any other time they've passed the otherwise relatively orderly room, it's a mess. canvases with any number of colours smeared across them are scattered through the room, the wooden frames on more than a few are snapped, with the fabric of the canvas itself bending and folding unevenly.

in the center of all the mess is a young man, wearing a red cape that's covered in all manners of paint, with a palette knife in hand. he doesn't bother hiding his frustration; with a short yell, he sinks the edge of the tool through his current piece—a largely green illustration, the subject of which is quickly lost as edgar drags the knife across it, slicing it apart. naturally, it takes him a moment to notice that someone is there. once he does turn his attention to them, though, he doesn't appear to hold any embarrassment for his actions. )

What are you looking at?

Comments

[bristle]

Quirk?

( that's a... weird reason to use, to say the least. the first mention of it that makes edgar pause, really—though thinking on it now, this one is saying rather strange things: "fire and ice" sides, and all of that. is there something wrong with his head? edgar wouldn't be disinclined to believe it, considering his stubbornness surrounding his apparently god-given right to not pay the least bit of attention to his surroundings. )

Yes, well, whatever you want to call that empty-headedness of yours, be it a "quirk" or a "habit," it hardly excuses you from looking where you are going.

( which is all he is saying. though... there seems to have been a misunderstanding here. )

[dangertohands]

Quirk is an ability, not a habit.

[Even if they share a word, they aren't the same. Words are weird sometimes.]

I was looking where I was going. I was looking to not run into people, not cats.

[He rarely sees the cats around so he keeps forgetting to be mindful??? Excuse his lack of cat awareness.]

[bristle]

Well I wouldn't consider such an ability as something to brag about, if I were you. But I suppose that you can do better, now that you're aware, so I won't be accepting such an excuse from you if it happens again.

( resident cat protector: edgar valden.

but anyway, while shoto is right about the words, edgar hasn't the faintest idea of what other "ability" he could be referring to here. rather, he doesn't particularly care to connect the dots. hence his insistence. )

[dangertohands]

[.... Are they having a misunderstanding? This seems almost like the conversation that he had with Nene a while ago.]

You're from a world without quirks. [How astute.] They're superpowers. Such as super human strength, or flight.

[To clear things up before they go on about cats.]

[bristle]

Super powers? ( he looks... apprehensive, to say the least, doubt colouring his features as he looks the boy over once more. )

And what's yours, then? Though I don't see how it would relate to the matter at hand.

[dangertohands]

Half-Hot, Half-Cold. Ice on my right side and fire on my left.

[Does the symmetrical hair make sense? Probably not.]

Cats like my fire side... or did if I could use my quirk here.

[bristle]

( edgar's expression is flat, and it's clear he's unimpressed with such an answer. fire and ice relate to watching where you're going... how, exactly? he doesn't fully understand the implications of what fire on his left side and ice on his right is supposed to mean, but tragically, isn't so interested when shoto follows up with the fact that he can't even use them to begin with. )

So you cannot use your fire or ice, and yet you find them to be a suitable excuse?

( he gives an ugly sneer. )

Then perhaps you ought to find something else a cat should like. An apology—as you said you would offer a human.

[dangertohands]

No, I was explaining that my quirks don't give me extra awareness. It's not that kind of quirk.

[.....

..............

..... what]

Cats like apologies?

[Can they even understand Japanese?]