E I J I R O U
K I R I S H I M A
" Kiri - Red - Shitty-hair "
17 years of age - Japanese - "Gifted" Human
Eijirou Kirishima is a strongly-built and durable individual as a whole. He worked relentlessly in order to build up his strength and gain his desired physique, so he takes a degree of well-deserved pride in his appearance. His strength lies in endurance, physical strength and brute force, granting him the nickname "The Bulldozer of Class 1A."
On the flip side, he is not the fastest kid on the block, but he does frequently work on his speed, stamina and flexibility to try and make up for it.
His eyes are a ruby red, and truly the windows to his soul. Kirishima is an incredibly expressive individual, and his eyes never fail to reflect his true emotions.
His hair is naturally black and straight, yet Kirishima chooses to keep it dyed crimson red and spike it up to his signature lofty style. He'll wear his hair down if he is in the comfort of familiar spaces and familiar faces, and usually keeps it either tied back or pushed out of his face with a headband.
While it is common knowledge that Kirishima styles his hair up to the spikes, very few folks are aware of his natural hair color.
Hair holds memories, and for him, the red color symbolizes a new phase in his life that he can be proud of.
Kirishima's teeth are unusually sharp and resemble more of a beast's than a human. He is unsure where exactly the sharpness of his teeth originates from, but figures he may have inherited that trait from a member of the unknown side of his family.
In the MhA cannon universe, Kirishima's baby teeth were blunt like a normal human child's, and the sharp teeth came in as his permanent set. The number of times he had bitten his own lip, tongue or cheek trying to get used to them is next to countless.
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Loud. Boisterous. A "bit too much." Those are common words used to describe Kirishima's personality.
However, so are "Loyal," "Outgoing," "Trustworthy," and "Uplifting."
Kirishima is a highly social and very extraverted boy who is able to get along with just about anybody, regardless of personality differences.
He is fully aware of his rambunctious personality and habits of sudden loud outbursts. He is not ashamed of it, but he will swiftly apologize and keep himself in check if he gets called out.
Kirishima does not filter or conceal his emotions, and is ultimately a very bad liar if he tries to do so. He is very blunt and upfront, and holds no hesitation to comment on unsavory behavior.
Kirishima holds a true "Chaotic Good" alignment and by default, serves as the peacekeeper and mediator in various situations. Despite his passive demeanor, he is known to do a quick, 180 flip into an aggressive spitfire if one manages to prod the few "soft spots" he has. He never backs down from a fight or a challenge, even if his odds of winning are slim.
Overall, Kirishima holds himself to a mildly corny standard of chivalry and honor. He tries to model himself after a hero he looks up to by the name of Crimson Riot, even going as far as adopting the code name "Red Riot" in his honor.
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Eijirou Kirishima - Code name, "Red Riot."
Kirishima is currently a student at a hero-run school for "gifted" kids, and works part-time at the Fatgum agency -- an agency that specializes in neutralizing threats and apprehending criminals with supernatural and superhuman abilities.
His own ability allows him to harden his anatomy and turn his skin into jagged stone. This increases his physical strength and durability, and allows him to easily withstand things like extreme blunt force trauma, bullets, point-blank explosions, crushing force, piercing or slicing weapons, and falling from great heights.
His fighting style is geared towards close-quartered melee combat, using his fists, arms and body as both weapons and a shield. He is notorious for taking on a reckless and aggressive approach to a fight, bulldozing head-on into battle and throwing himself into harm's way to shield friends and civilians alike.
He has learned to regenerate himself after taking devastating hits. However, there is a limit to the number of attacks he can withstand before his ability begins to give out. Kirishima is also prone to becoming fatigued after giving or receiving numerous heavy hits, and will struggle to keep his ability activated after a certain amount of time.
+ QUIRK SPOILER AHEAD +
Eijirou Kirishima's Ultimate form is known as "Unbreakable." He is able to done layer upon layer of his dermal hardening ability, therefore amplifying his strength and durability to the extreme. This gives Red Riot's "Unbreakable" a monstrous appearance with monstrous strength to match.
In the MhA cannon universe, Kirishima is only able to hold Unbreakable for 40 seconds at a time before his ability gives out. With time and practice, he is able to mantain and fight with Unbreakable for longer periods of time.
"Unbreakable" is completely and entirely impenetrable for the short time it is activated.
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Comments
Inspection was out of habit, and other than the first parts of the grounds itself, the benches and the tables on the side seemed like another perfect place to start. They still held up, despite the obvious swaddle of vines and the rust that has eaten up the fixtures in patches. That was where her things would go, a deflated messenger bag, the wallet that she had fished from the depths of her pockets, and the phone that after a bit of checking, was haphazardly plopped aside.
It must be something perceived to be so dire to have the older boy speak up first. She watched the two with sheer interest, not even bothering to veil that curiosity from her face, or even jump to any defense. Their stances, their words, Amajiki’s vigilant nature heavily contrasted with Kirishima’s curious, ever-so-eager disposition, all of that was taken in without the slightest bit of judgment. At that point, it wasn’t even about the strange little device anymore. Bug-eyed and fascinated, nobody would truly guess what was going on inside that head, other than the gears that were obviously whirring to life.
How can one person put so much faith in a single instrument? She herself tries new things with failure first in mind. How can she utilize that in the actual assignment to keep these two alive? How can she properly balance that out?
Just what the hell are you thinking? They will make it out alive.
A flicker of a moment actually took her away from this. Cassella did see their mentor approaching from the warmth that gilded her pale face, yet chose not to say a word, only chuckling out loud when Fatgum made his presence known. Talk about engaging a wagging pup and a very ruffled kitten. The smile that was returned for both the greeting and the compliment was immaculate. “Thanks~ I got some great help while I’m at it!” While she didn’t elaborate any further, she visibly brightened up with a nod when this little dilemma of theirs was brought up.
“I presented it to these two last night to think over. It’s not common for my folks to propose unorthodox equipment to other agencies in a landslide decision so I had to consider offering just in case.” Clearing her throat slightly, she ran her hands through her hair. For a memory of leaving that sullen council call with that peculiar unease hanging in the air, one that she usually wouldn’t feel from them, her tone was somewhat lighthearted—no need to add that to the weight for these two to carry. If anything, from how relaxed she now looked and with her general bearings, nobody will ever assume that this woman was a part of this operation, to begin with. “Red here seems open to the idea of using every resource available. Suneater leans on the side of caution, I can see where he’s coming from. I think both are very commendable.” Brushing away the creases from her suit, she straightened up. “But you’re their formal guardian so it’s only right if the final say goes to you! I wouldn’t mind either way. I was just asked to give it a shot.”
Her eyes were twinkling. That smile on her face just grew, an expression that a particular fretful youth in question might perceive otherwise. "Besides, I wouldn't mind at all if Amajiki sits this one out, I still got something nice for him."
“Anyway, you didn’t really miss much, we’re just getting started. I hope it’s not much trouble getting here, with it being early and all!"
It was the Illustres who first noticed both boys the moment they arrived in the lobby, bouncily taking their host's attention to the point that Cassella was almost horrified at the thought of them bursting out at random. They already had their eyes peeled on the elevator doors the moment they were seated there, patiently curled in wait. And yet the restraint held true, only resulting in a cheering noise of a crowd inside her head that created a good enough distraction from what she was originally doing. With all paperwork shoved back into the depths of her bag, all that was left was her phone and the arsenal of things that she had on the table. Slipping her sunglasses away, that was chucked in with the rest of her things as well, revealing bleary silver eyes that were rubbed back to life, and dichromatic eyebrows that were included with last night's dye. Even with the limited supplies, they truly went all out.
"Good morning~" Her quiet greeting was a chirp befitting the atmosphere, from the constant flow of muffled movement and chatter in the background with the early ones going to and fro, to the subtle hint of sunshine filtering through the nearest tinted window. The clouds still gathered in large patches to blot out sections of the atmosphere, but compared to last night’s conditions, it was the slightest hint of promise, even though there would be no guarantee that this would persist through the afternoon.
Maybe today isn't going to be too bad. Might as well hang on until tomorrow.
As for the woman who quickly tidied up her own table to receive the two, even with the obvious hint of drowsiness, she seemed to be in her typical sprightly mood. She didn't miss out on the breakfast menu. There was still a half-eaten stack of glistening syrupy pancakes to be had, a big bowl of mixed fruit and cheesecake parfait that she was already attacking in between bites, and toasted cinnamon roll-ups that were temporarily set nearby. Her coffee was still warm, smoke drifting out of the lightened beverage as her spoon just kept gradually stirring on its own. Judging by the other empty plates that she had to stack aside, however, she had been absently loading herself with sweets and carbohydrates the rest of the past hour. "I hope you both slept well! It took me a while to quiet down, so I had to ask for a blanket or two."
At least that's what she thought after waking up swaddled by a bunch of that.
No, she didn't remember asking anyone.
Cassella patiently waited for the two to get seated, taking her time to ogle what the boys actually got for themselves. Everything looked so good. She should have gone for the eggs. Since when did oatmeal start to look so appealing? The woman was no morning person and was only drafted through the day by tasks needing to be met, but breakfast food and decent company definitely offered some form of redemption. Kirishima’s query didn’t fall on deaf ears, at least, no matter how distracted she looked. “It’s not too far off, it’s just a walk 'round the back of the hotel where the outdoor amenities were. It was an open court of sorts for basketball and tennis, with a bit of a garden path that separates it away from here." She took her time to pause for a spoonful of her food, visibly lighting up at this. "The weather has been horrible for a few seasons now, so I’ve been told nobody has touched it for a while, even for renovations. Don't worry, we're not trespassing! Their indoor features and the pool have their guests distracted most of the time, I won't be worried about anyone walking in." Stifling a yawn herself, she took a sip of her coffee. "Well, other than Fatgum if he comes around to visit! I texted him for it, I doubt he'd miss out!"
"I’m expecting that the place might be pretty rough, so a change of clothes would be fine, but optional. We’re not going all out this morning, I just gotta see what you two could do and probably look at what we can explore with that. You know, a little bit of flexing here and there."
. . .
For anything else that the two might have forgotten or wanted to bring, Cassella wouldn't mind waiting. By the time they were finished with breakfast, she already seemed livelier– back to her typical cheery self, happily chattering along the way with all anxieties pushed aside. If anything, she seemed genuinely excited about the two in her charge.
The walk there was short, the paved path cluttered with a tangle of overgrown plants. That didn't deter the woman in the slightest, though she did express the slightest bit of intimidation at how easy it will seem to lose herself if she was shoved into the undergrowth. The tracksuit was a good idea, apparently, she was left brushing bits of soggy leaves and blades of grass off her pants when they finally reached their destination.
That open court wasn't just big, it was quite… enormous, at least, to Cassella's standards.
In broad daylight, she could see puddles everywhere, with cracks and dirt now generously adorning the once-flat concrete. A lot of the paint on the ground has peeled off with some of its structures rusted away and she was almost impressed how a year of rainfall and neglect can result in that. Moss and grass have grown in copious amounts, adorning the place with patches of gradient green, and a good amount of ivy has crept in for corner and border covers.
"So~ what do you guys think? Even the Illustres feel like this is a nice place to romp around." With a stretch, she took the liberty of inspecting close by. There had been signs of trespassers in the area– though Cassella has figured that nothing dangerous has been left behind other than a few bits and pieces of trash. The nearest plants don't seem to pose a threat, either, considering their current location. So far, so good. She seemed quite happy with what she got at the moment. If her glowing expression wouldn't pronounce that properly, what will?
"Also, have you two given a thought to what I proposed last night?"
We will be unstoppable.
We'll make them regret even messing around.
Maybe tonight, she could at least start trying to believe that.
"Thanks! We won't leave a mess!" She didn't really leave the poor boy any other option, to begin with. Cassella was quick to turn back with a very ecstatic “I got a go-ahead!”, paired with the sounds of crinkling boxes and plastic. Either the woman just had a peculiar way of setting personal tragedies aside at the moment or she was just easily excitable on a whim, there's no proper way of knowing within the first few hours of meeting.
The door creaked one more time, however.
It was slower, much more cautious– and it certainly wasn’t Cass. What peered back was a gaunt, bald thing that bobbed its head, with features that could have been well-defined if it wasn't so sunken and withered into the skull, and if that shattered jaw was correctly hinged. Cadaverous hands and broken fingers gripped the door frame, and even with the absence of eyes, empty sockets gazed at him with unbridled interest, rasping words already burbling out before they even became coherent. “Ch̷͏i͏̧c̛k̵̡̡í̡͞e ̡c͏̷̕a̕͟n̶̢ ͠h̵e͟͠lp̷̧͞?͏́"́
"No, no, stop bothering him."
"̧͢͠W̕͢a̸̵ņ̶̀t͞ ͞Ch͟ic̶k̨͟i̴̢ę̷͝–͏"̶͝
"No."
"Ha͡͡n̶g̕͟ ̨̨o̸͘͢u̵͜t̴͜͡!̨͠"̀
Judging from the rolled-up ivory sleeve, it was Cassella's pale hand that reached over to pull the head back by the pinched cheek. It stretched a bit, farther than how any human muscle typically would, and then it was gone with a high-pitched squeak of protest. It left the door swinging. Just behind that door, Cass was temporarily grappling with the wiggling spectral figure that previously sprouted from her hip, which eventually faded back to her with one stronger nudge. “Let’s do this, man. I’ll help you out with the dye as well when your roots are done. Let's not forget your eyebrows, too.”
With two things accomplished, the night truly seemed like it ended on a happier note. The formerly pristine shirt that she had was now a mess of splotchy browns and intense reds for a cape remembered a little too late, with all that excitement to blame, but she didn't seem to mind at all. She emerged with her hair two shades darker beneath the dim light, a rare occasion of color actually gracing her head. Needless to say, she was very pleased with the outcome that she thanked Kirishima for so many times.
Cassella's discussion with the boys was brief before she bid them good night. She'll meet them down in the lobby after breakfast (all the while making a very obvious point for the two not to skip it) and they'll be off somewhere right after. There was an open run-down court that she discovered near the hotel grounds, a place due for maintenance but was hardly touched or visited due to the location's recent inclement weather.
That should do for any demonstration without the general public spectating or randomly walking in.
. . .
Seven might be stretching it a little bit. Even more so for someone who thought savoring the peace at an earlier hour before everything gets busy will be a good idea.
Slouched against one of the couches in the lobby’s lounge, a young woman lazily scrolled through her phone for yesterday’s encrypted paperwork and blueprints, one other hand gently running through her hair. No longer the downy snow white, beneath her pale fingers there was a certain fullness to those tawny strands, shedding an occasional glimpse of red.
Cassella, bundled up that morning in a black tracksuit and sunglasses could already feel the drowsy pangs of regret. When were mornings ever forgiving? Though the bed was nice, no matter how much sleep or sleeping drought sipped in, it never made a difference.
If a full stack of pancakes and salted cappuccinos won't do the trick, all the bustling and ruckus for later certainly will.
Despite all things she knew and she could do, history has proven time and time again that even the likes of her will still get hurt, or even die. There’s nothing in her arsenal that could contradict that– she knew this trepidation holds true. Kirishima had every reason to be, and so does she. “There’s truth to that. And yet out of all things in the world, this is what many of them chose to do.” There was no hint of judgment in her voice. If anything, it was almost resigned. “Even with all these abilities, sometimes there’s only so much that you could do. It’s not an excuse not to try, but these are seasoned veterans we’re talking about who mowed a lot of things that sometimes we haven’t even heard of.”It wasn’t that difficult to nudge herself to sound lighter than that. “And when you’re a pro, you’ll only meet more headstrong people in the future, no matter how much you worry!”
It felt peculiar, telling herself all those, hearing it out loud one more time. To be wrapped and tangled with the fates of impressive people, and to be ripped away from that countless times, sometimes literally where one cannot avert their eyes. How bad do you have to fail in watching over someone’s back to see them die one by one? It wasn’t the first, and it certainly won’t be the last, but are they going to be next? The woman could feel her stomach churn at the thought.
Shira was just one of the many on the list. Allister was another. There were more– there will be more. A brief glance was cast upon the mirror, and that actually caught her off guard.
"The device I showed you isn’t like that thing! I knew the genius who constructed those, he’ll be so upset if it was even compared to that.” Cassella was laughing now. That brief disgruntled look on the boy’s face already had her jumping to conclusions – peerless senses didn’t miss that, but that certainly took her back to the present. A decent enough tether, at that.
There was not a speck of blood in sight on those white tile walls, these warm lights were not hazy with smoke and concrete dust. There’s nothing beneath her fingers but the gloves that laced her hands, and the locks that she was working on. The television outside, the faint voices, and the prominent smell of ammonia–
It’s hair bleach, not some haphazard chemistry in a bucket.
Breathe.
Right here, she was in this hotel bathroom, meticulously bleaching someone’s hair. Right now, this was not the gruesome shade of crimson that she was accustomed to seeing. The redhead’s newfound enthusiasm has a distinctive way of grounding, and pale hands gradually settled the container aside. "They won't leave us on our own devices, for sure, especially with Fatgum in charge," she nodded to affirm this. “Man, I’m glad he’s our captain, he seems like a very chill guy. It’s easy to smuggle more equipment and snacks in, though. I’ll get the three of us covered just fine.” That sounded like a promise. For anyone else’s sake, perhaps she could push these thoughts aside. Let tomorrow worry about it because at that moment, her hair is another dilemma waiting to be solved.
"Huh, let's see. I don't even know what I want, I would have let you go crazy with swirly patterns and shit…" There was a brief pause as she removed a glove, fishing out a stray shower cap through her things. That was passed along his way just in case he needed it with all the clips in place. The next item dug out was her phone, delicate fingers quickly flipping through a board of images that were pulled up on the screen. "I could go for delicate highlights, but that might need more time and supplies to put in–" Her words finally halted. The expression on her face gradually shifted, her eyebrows rising up. “Oh!” She was positively glowing at this point, unable to contain her excitement as she showed the image that she was fawning upon. It wasn’t red, but the idea was there. “Peekaboo hair!”
“Oi, oi, Amajiki!” Poking her head out of the doorway, glittering silver eyes finally found the older boy curled up on the bed with a blanket. “I’m dyeing my hair here, too! I promise it won’t take long!”
That was hardly a question or a request, but more of an announcement.
“I’ve been around for quite a while and I’ve never heard of it,” that was laughingly said. “I’d pay quite a bit to get mine done with something different without much effort. If you come across someone with a quirk like that where you are, you gotta let me know.” His reaction to the photograph didn’t fall short – that she already regretted asking about the said villain in question. Was there any alleged reason for the attack? She will need to look at that again.
Something about that remark actually struck somewhere. She knew those worries all too well, something she shared for entirely different situations and reasons.
“I may not be a huge fan of the old military guys back there, but they didn’t pick us by draw lots, you know. All of those people sitting in the conference with us were formidable folk in their own right. Some flawless records, I could only ogle and dream of having.” Tipping her head slightly, she peered at him through the mirror. “If other teams are counting on us to do the job right beside them, don’t you think it’s only fair to trust them back with that?”
Look at you, spouting the shit that you don’t always believe in.
The Illustres were dead quiet, save for the sound of a rattling limb or two as they passed a few things around.
Truth be told, Cassella has uttered those words way more frequently than she’ll want to admit. Things that she wanted to convince herself with but never happened, reassurances that sounded sincere which eventually fell apart so many times that she wouldn’t even dare count. “Sure, there’s always the chance of things not going our way that easy. Should the others fail to do that, we’ll have a go with her ourselves.” Should the others even fail to do that– that most likely meant one thing. If the attacks can even cause pain to someone with a hardening quirk, the others may have a slimmer chance. Just how strong was this Shira? Cassella didn’t elaborate on that any further. A crooked grin was flashed, pale eyebrows twitching. “If that happens, we’ll make sure she ain’t running anywhere tomorrow.”
That was easier said than done. It always was.
Given that it didn’t take her long to get through all the roots at the back, she already went ahead with the other sections that she could access. While Cassella looked quite happy with her progress, she noticeably squinted the moment the inquiry was made. She was quiet at first, diligently focused on what kept her hands busy, until finally, she started once more. At that point, the woman was just happy that there was something for her to do. That was a good enough distraction. “Back then, I played the role of the bait. Claudia Allister was only the name of the last victim that we were able to record and it just stuck since then. We started off really nicely. That thing isn’t human. Something blew our cover off at some point, and three people in the team were killed in the process, excluding a few victims from the public. It knew I wouldn’t be able to lash out fire with so many people around. The only gain was that we finally knew what we were dealing with when we obtained a few samples, we didn’t have much time to grieve through that.”
“We were lumped into a new group and we went for one more shot a couple of days later– tracked that all the way down to an apartment that its most recent host was living in. There’s a gardener who pitched in to help from the outside to seal with insecticides. We have to use homemade chlorine gas fanned in high through the vents…it got the job done of temporarily crippling it to buy us some time to set up the rest of the stuff we needed to initiate recovery.” At this point, she wasn’t able to keep a chuckle from brewing. “A cover story was necessary and the tenants were so mad, the landlord was sooo red and angry and yelly, but nobody died this time and everyone shut up so quickly when they were properly compensated. I mean, I would be, too."
With a sigh, she shook her head. “I wish– I wish we came up with that when we first dealt with it. It’s not always supernatural and possession – we’re dealing with a colony of sentient worms that takes over someone’s body for control and disguise. You’d think that if we were only equipped with cans of bug spray back then, nobody will die.”
It was an oversimplification that was so casually said, yet ached regardless to say out loud. Time certainly made it a bit easier to swallow. Once more, she peered at her handiwork, and once she was sure that everything was all brushed in, she held out a thumbs up.
“Tadaa~ I think we’re done with bleaching here, you just gotta let it sit for a bit! But then roots do get bleached fast, you wouldn’t have to wait for long.”
"H̶ȩ̴l̷̀p͏͞?̵͞ ̷̧́”H͘e̡lṕ~"
She didn't seem to mind an extra hand poking its way out to pass along a clip or two the moment she held her hand out, or an eye-studded head quietly peeking out for a closer look to make sure that she was only getting specific areas. There was a low hum of approval that resounded from time to time, a looming supervisor that seemed to inwardly judge the woman for her work. “We can never go wrong with a lot of clips,” she murmured. "You seem very prepared for this." The only time the twitching limbs froze was when they heard the faint camera shutter of a photograph being taken, all additional limbs, eyes and heads momentarily retracting back.
Did that get them?
Perhaps he should have taken more time inspecting the photograph before hastily sending that…
His question seemed to perk her up. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it! Box dyes don't stay too long on me even if I want them to. I'd still rock it regardless." The response came quick, paired up with a flitting smug grin. “I just skip the bleaching, I don’t think my hair will be able to handle more with that,” she chuckled. “Lest it shrivels up when shined down by the sun and I’ll be bald in patches by tomorrow noon~”
Perhaps she was only jesting? Her attention was quick to draw back to his locks and she looked quite absorbed and serious with what she was doing. There was the obvious satisfaction with that– she was covering a decent area in a short time, after all— that was until she seemed to remember something. "Oh! Remember when I was talking about the case at the conference? For Claudia Allister? It's a long story how we winded up somewhere." A gnarled, spectral hand reached over for her phone. "This was my old group from last year! It was an emergency case that summoned me and I had to disguise myself as part of a theater troupe. We raided a closet and had a huge blast setting up the first phase of the trap."
That photograph that was brought up wasn't much– just a young man with a black scarf taking a selfie, with enough light to showcase what was going on behind him– a mess of soggy outfits and props as if the entire place has been literally stormed through. There was one taller woman near the corner who was bundled up with colorful paraphernalia, ready to sneak away with a drenched carton of pizza. Cassella wasn't too hard to spot– a tiny ghost sitting on top of a few overturned boxes, reading through a few crumpled papers. Short hair fell in messy, tousled ringlets, doused in splotches of neon blue and green as if it was supposed to pair up with the fluffy oversized coat of peacock feathers. There were two other men who seemed to bicker with each other at the back, one burly figure of scar and muscle busy putting up her hair in an updo, and the other one holding a pair of glittering faux faerie wings. It seemed like a happy enough memory to keep, just an assortment of adults mixed up and thrown together in a case, goofing around like it was a typical night out.
It certainly didn't ask for the wistfulness that bled in her voice.
"Say… what happened to that encounter back there with Shira?" Bobbing her head slightly, she leaned back, as if admiring her handiwork. "You don't have to answer now! I was listening to Fatgum earlier while watching the footage, and I'm now curious."
Happy Birthday to the best red m̶a̶t̶c̶h̶s̶t̶i̶c̶k̶ there ever was!
✧*｡٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و✧*｡
Save some cake for us today!
Tundra was naturally friendly to newcomers, she knew she easily gained the attention of others around her. The forward introduction of this stranger was first met with slight uncertainty as Tundra looked up to her master that had his hood over his head, wearing baggy, darker raiment. His gaze fell over the stranger that had leveled himself to Tundra's height, something he would see young children do, but never someone of similar age to him. He gave a slight nod to the husky, and Tundra rose to her feet with a slow wag of her tail as her pinkish-brown nose inched closer to the extended handed. The stranger felt a gentle breath and the moisture of her nose and tongue as she gave a small lick to his knuckle.
That was exactly why she asked.
And that uncertain answer from Amajiki was probably something that she already expected. She couldn't help but grin at the thought, even if that didn't earn any response, that look on her face should be enough that she was already plotting something through. When was she ever not planning anything? Just how much opportunity or possibility that he has passed along due to this? Even with the inward anxieties for tomorrow, there were still a lot of things to look forward to. But for now, there were more urgent things to worry about, which the redhead seemed more than happy to pitch his opinion on.
It was easy to make her agree, and with that, she was set. "So brown it is! Ahh, I think I looked great in brown the last time I used it. It might go well with the red." Cassella seemed perfectly happy with the decision, chucking the other box back into her bag that seemed to swallow it as soon as it was tossed in. One moment was spared to read through the instruction sheet. She was about to say something else, perhaps it was about the dye– only for that to be paused as soon as the youngster burst out laughing. With the Illustres equally cackling in her head, one eye visibly twitched as the color bloomed immediately on her entire face, perhaps the darkest tint of scarlet that her pale complexion and her ears will ever be able to hold.
But damn… it was hard to look and stay annoyed when the boisterous laughter that rang out of him and echoed upon tiled walls was contagious, she was already grinning from ear to ear, trying her hardest to keep quiet. Even that was a battle lost, laughter escaping out of her in barely controlled bursts. "Oh gods, stop it, you!" Her voice was a twitching warble in between giggling fits– for a moment he was just hysterical and she wasn't too far behind. At least he was able to lower himself, finally granting her access which she didn't dally on as soon as they both calmed down. That needed a brief inspection, which was so much easier now rather than doing it in the elevator's warm light, and with her fingers that were already glowing. “Gotta comb that through as we go– hold up man, I got clips for this, too. Your hair’s a tad bit longer than I thought.”
It didn't take her long to fish them out, settling the ziplock bag aside where a stray hand can easily pass it along. The woman was already sectioning his hair in equal parts in no time, only pausing ever so briefly to give way for thought. For someone who seemed to have dealt with rougher things using the same set of extremities, she was surprisingly careful and benign, as if this sort of thing already came as second nature. “Hmm... I’m initially thinking of those ombre things you see in salon posters, but I’m always open to ideas. The further away from how I typically look, the better. Heck, I even had neons once.” One more run-through and she finally took the bleaching solution from him, setting in a first careful stroke.
"You know what," her eyebrows twitched upwards. "I'll give you full creative freedom with it if you'd like to experiment with what's left while you wait on yours to set. Go wild."
There was no discomfort to be noted so far, even with how much the skin rippled and moved, with something slithering their way underneath. "Dark Shadow, huh? Y'all really know a bunch of curious folk. I wouldn't lie… I'd really love to meet them at some point." Cass laughingly shook her head with a sigh, pushing back locks of pale hair from her face. "For now, I have to suffer with these guys constantly nagging me about it, thanks a lot!" That was uttered in good faith, and she didn't seem to mind as Kirishima headed off. When she was about to address the other youngster left in the room who was hopefully easing down with the absence of the ones consistently fussing over him, his voice rang out once more.
She was already up on her feet, stretching slightly until weary joints popped. While a few eyes still fluttered on her exposed arm, it was eventually gone, as if nothing peculiar has ever graced that other than the silvery glint of old, embossed scars. "I'll be there, I got hands to spare!" The response was abrupt, and she was already heading off to the bathroom to follow, grabbing her things along the way. Her steps halted, however.
“Hey Amajiki.” At this point, whenever she asks anything, might as well expect something out of place. A ticking Pandora's box of questions and answers, it seemed. "If there's a bunch of stuff you can use from actual proud beasts and entities instead of humans with their quirks, would you still be down to try it? Do you think it's something you'll be okay handling?" It was a genuine question laced with obvious curiosity, one that didn’t warrant an immediate answer. Grinning, she waved with a chuckle. "You don't have to answer now, just give it some thought. Eat up, before everything else grows cold."
With that, she left the older boy to his own, he rightfully earned that peace after all that. Cassella slunk her way into the bathroom, leaving the door swaying ajar. An audible sigh of relief left her as she did– in a way, it did feel like she has been holding part of her breath the whole time.
That went so much better than she initially thought. No yelling, no screeching, no broken furniture that needed to be replaced. There were certainly more chaotic introductions that had happened in the past, she really had to hand it over to the two for holding it together.
Might as well label that as pride.
"I need your help deciding whether I should go for black or brown base dye. I just picked up both boxes!” Those were settled by the sink, just beside the haphazard clutter of equipment that now adorned it. “Also if you got a bit of red to spare after, can I have it? They didn’t really say in their handbook that I gotta stick with just one, I’d show up tomorrow with prism hair if I could, but a nice lil’ gradient will do just fine." After a moment of rummaging through her bag for a pair of gloves, Cassella already gestured for him to move so she could take a better look, standing up on her tiptoes.
"Mmm̧m̛m…͘ W̷at̢c͢h̸er̀ ̵c͡a̧n't͘ r̢e͢ach͏~"̕ A disembodied voice squeaked that, clear as day.
"Shut up."
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