Loose floorboards release mellow creaks in tune to each of her steps, every press hitting like keystrokes on a grounded nightingale piano. Himiko surveys the bar with a skewered slant of her eyes. Brick walls box in a collection of booths and bottles stocked on shelves, a counter cutting the room in half at its center. Above her lazily spins a ceiling fan. The place is charmingly quaint, no doubt themed to fit the attire of the bartender that's cloaked in purple fog. He acknowledges her entrance with a small nod as he polishes a wine glass, a very formal and courteous welcoming gesture befitting of such an establishment.

It's not what Himiko expected. Networking with a grimey old guy like the underworld crime broker who brought here and having a goth guy who stapled the sagging skin of his third degree burned body tag along had lowered her standards for an evil lair this classy. Giran, the aforementioned senior villain informant, is at least refined enough to wear a cute fluffy scarf around his veiny neck. Himiko runs her tongue along her fangs, fantasizing what it'd be like to sink her teeth into the man's jugular; seeing all of these stocked beverages is making her thirsty and it's been a while since she gotten her blood fix.

Giran folds the hinges of his sunglasses before hanging them from his shirt collar. Despite having arrived in the dead of night, he blinks to adjust his eyes to the room's lighting. "I've got another couple of league candidates here to meet you", the intermediary middleman twists a toothpick in his mouth with his tongue as he speaks, "They say they're interested in joining your cause" It's easier to see inside than under the pale moonlight that the villain broker has a tooth gap glaring out from the middle of his mouth while he talks.

Grimace's secret brother, purple welts stretching his stapled cheeks as he makes a grimace, glances around the bar as though only now seeing his surroundings. "I'm not a sympathizer for just anyone – I'm here to join Stain's cause", his hands slide out from the pockets of his Matrix cosplayer overcoat so that he can cross his arms over his chest. Himiko perks up at the mention of Stain despite the goth guy's emo attitude; she can relate to wanting to meet the hero killer, especially after watching the recordings of him fighting Izukun.

Edgelord continues assessing the bar, shooting a look down the serving station's stool aisle, a glance that Himiko follows with her own gaze. Having gone unnoticed until now, what she supposes is a patron sits at the far end, returning their stare. Being polite, she flashes him a broad grin that bares her pearly whites, and waves in greeting. He squints with red eyes crusted around the edges, probably not so used to seeing a smile so bright. "Besides… You don't look like very much of a 'league' to me…", goth guy is one to talk but says anyways, "You look rather gross, actually."

The patron's scarred lip curls over, but he withholds whatever retort lays dormant in that rotten mouth, opting to instead ignore the rude remark. Exercising every ounce of patience within him, he waves a dismissively lazy hand as though shooing a fly. "Kurogiri", a not so surprisingly raspy voice makes the bartender look up from his polishing. Himiko realizes that Kurogiri works for the blue haired man at the bar counter when he's ordered, "Warp them away. I don't like people with no manners."

Freddy Krueger during the dark phase of his teenage years catches on next. He uncrosses his arms and smirks, amused as he looks the now revealed leader of the league up and down. "You're the guy in charge here?", Himiko checks to see if the dude's fingernails are painted black like his obviously dyed hair when he runs his fingers through the unruly pointed mess (they aren't but she's positive he wouldn't turn her down if she offered to do them for him). "I think I do recognize you as the one who rescued Stain now that I get a good look at your wrinkled ass. Do you even moisturize?"

The supposed leader of the league hisses with contempt, "Do you?", spitting as he seethes through his teeth. Himiko can't help but snicker at the comeback, even if its delivery was a little gross. She giggles more when she sees Giran also appearing humored by their interaction, hiding the lower half of his face with the fluffiness of his scarf. Goth guy goes back to grimacing, not as amused.

Kurogiri heaves out an exasperated sigh, restocking the glass that he's finished cleaning. "Let's try and have a civil conversation", the bartender sounds like he's the one who could use a drink the most as he glances between the feuding men, "We must have some extent of mutual interest to have come together for this meeting" Giran glances up when Kurogiri looks in his direction next, "What's more… if we're being introduced by our common friend here, we can be sure of competent skills from one another at the very least."

Scarface keeps glaring at Burnface, but relents. "Tsk..", he grinds the fingernail of his index finger into the bar counter as though that'll grind out his frustrations, "Fine" Then turns on his stool to face Giran's invited guests. "Let's start with introductions", the league leader sucks on his chapped lips before presenting his side of the room, "I'm Tomura Shigaraki and this is Kurogiri."

Himiko practically vibrates in place as her face tinges red with excitement. She's so giddy now that she finally gets a chance to say something. The bunned blonde hops forward, jumping to seize the opportunity she's been given to introduce herself. "Call me Himiko Toga!", her skirt sways with her hips as she does a little dance and pose; her dual peace signs shine as bright as the return of her fanged grin.

It's goth guy's turn next, his eyeroll making Himiko huff since he clearly doesn't appreciate the effort that she put into her introduction. "I go by Dabi right now", his is super stoic by comparison that the judges would vote for a blowout if this were a competition. Though the name choice does make Himiko raise her eyebrows; whatever she was expecting, it certainly wasn't that.

"No good", Shigaraki doesn't like it either if his sneer is anything to go by. He points his index finger at Dabi, wagging it up and down. "I want to know your real name", his red eyes meet the man's blue gaze for an intense staring match. Himiko looks between the two of them, expecting them to start making out if neither one blinks any time soon.

The tension in the room is so thick that it could be cut with a knife, and Himiko would really like that. She puffs out her cheeks and puckers her lips, "Now kiss!" Dabi peddles back, swiveling his head to look at her with wide eyes, his glare broken. Shigaraki is just as baffled, reeling in his neck with disgust. Their reactions make the girl burst out into a fit of giggles.

And that's Shigaraki's tipping point. "I've had enough of you two", he shoots from his stool with both arms outstretched. Himiko swirls her tongue with a lipsmack, still craving a taste for blood, and now able to exploit an opportunity to have some. Dabi rushes forward, blue flames bursting forth from his roasted patches of flesh. Things are really getting heated up now. Himiko brandishes her boxcutter, toying with it like a switchblade; then she springs forward to join the boys for some roughhousing.

Swirly, twirly, spinny splotches obscure Himiko's path. They're making her dizzy. So much so that the dark spots throw off her aim, boxcutter stabbing through a purple portal instead of Shigaraki. Dabi's superheated fire is swallowed up and redirected from doing harm as well. Himiko plants her feet, forcing all of her leg strength to accumulate for a pushback; she expects Shigaraki's attack to be the only one that lands now. Except, even the grimy groper gets intercepted by the warpgates. His hands pass through holes, appearing underneath them where they grab at nothing but air.

"I've had enough of all of you", Kurogiri grumbles from behind the bar counter, "You'd better behave yourselves" Even though the bartender has no apparent tangible face beneath all the smog covering his head, he places a hand there as though to massage and smooth out whatever tension. Himiko retracts her arm from the portal that stopped her before it closes with all the others. "Start over if you must."

"There's no reason to start over – I already told you why I'm here – I came to see Stain", Dabi emits a streak of steam from his burns after the flames die out. Enveloped in a fog of his own making, his shadow is defined by his eyes that glow as radiantly blue as his fire did. Hissing with heat, the villain cocks his head in search of his kindred spirit. "Where is he?"

Shigaraki tilts his head at an opposite angle, cyan mop of greasy hair hanging to one side as he does so. Saggy skin around his eyes and mouth twist in an upturned expression, a simper playing at his features. "Getting a makeover", the man who is in much need of one himself has a tickled tone as he returns to sitting at the bar's serving station. Kurogiri slides Shigaraki a shot of whiskey, the villain snatching the glass and swallowing it down in one swig. Chapped lips moistened, he seems more at ease now as he says, "Stain serves under me… If you wanna join him, then you'll join me."

Himiko turns the boxcutter in her hand left to right, weighing her options. When she makes her decision, she pops its razor back into its compartment. "I don't really care so long as I get to see Izukun again", she shrugs before plopping herself down onto one of the comfy cushioned booths of the bar. It feels good to stretch out her legs across the seat, her back arching as she shows more feline qualities than just her eyes.

Shigaraki and Dabi ignore her, still too fixated on eachother to pay the girl any mind. Dabi shifts to the side, caught between heading for the door from which he arrived or aligning himself with the league. Ultimately, even if his choice comes with a resigned sigh, he decides to share a stool with Shigaraki at the bar. He waves for Kurogiri to pour him a glass of scotch. "We're working towards creating a future without heroes regardless, so I'll play nice for now…"

"Create?", Shigaraki scoffs while grabbing his own glass. He downs his second shot before slamming the cup on the counter. All five of his fingers curl over to grip it tighter, "We're going to destroy the future…", a decompositional decay turns what he touches to ash.


Izuku hits the ground, crashing like he'd say his future has. He has to reverse his roll with the fall to avoid being pierced by a volley of sharpened plumage. Sweat shines with a gleaming spin of rotating chains, each of the boy's arm bars bracing against the impact of the floor. Hawks has been taking it easy on him, pointed feathers flying past him at a rate he can manage. Yet, the training still pushes him to his limits. He never manages to get in close enough, despite the hero wearing quirk dampening weights on his wrists and ankles.

"Refine your chain control", the boy's mentor repeats what he's said at least a thousand times already. "Refine, refine, refine" The parroted advice is starting to get on Izuku's nerves. Unsheathing from their slots, the chains spin loose to lash out. He whips the untethered fetters with his arms. They twist like tails with minds of their own, only moving in a vague direction depending on where he aims them. Izuku already knows what Hawks will say before it's said, "You have to refine your control over them."

"I know", Izuku grinds out his response through a bite of frustration. It's not the same as grappling a large immobile object like a building though. Nor does he have the benefit of an enclosed environment such as an alley. The massive space of the training room leaves only him and Hawks, the hero flying circles around him. He tugs down, a snapback of the chains returning them to their sawing systems. It's better that he starts over when Hawks gets so far out from him.

Izuku flips over a flurry of feathers. Carried by the motion of his momentum, he releases his chains again so that they fly faster. Hawks flaps his wings to move back. His mentor makes dodging his attacks look so effortless. It continues to grate against the boy's nerves that he isn't pulling this off any better with each of his attempts to snare the bird. Unraveling farther out only limits the extent of his prowess with his chains. He has to keep reeling them back in like a line without a hook.

Izuku leaves himself vulnerable during the process of reconnecting the fetters. Saws without blades to slash or whip expose his body to a blunt collision from Hawks. The hero barrels into him, sending him head under legs in a full spiral flip. Izuku exhausts the remainder of his energy storage when he slams into the ground, wind knocked completely out of the boy. Despite his struggles to sit up, there's no standing on his feet anymore. He lets himself slump a bit, chainsaws retracting and his face returning to its usual freckled form.

"It's no use", Izuku hangs his head in defeat. He stares down at his hands, folding his fingers over so that they make a set of fists. "They're too disconnected from me", the missing chain links and saw bars could still be there and he'd still feel numb.

"Kid, come on, don't just give up" Hawks slowly descends to a decent distance to talk, but never stops hovering. He gestures for his protege to raise his head. Hawks waits until the boy does before offering an encouraging smile.

Izuku sighs. While he'll humor the hero by lifting his chin up, he still won't force himself back onto his feet for another round of hellish training. Not when the end result is pointlessly nothing. "Why are you so dead set on this whole chain controlling shtick anyway?", he instead leans back to prop himself at an angle with his arms as a sturdy support.

Hawks places his hands on his hips. "Innovativeness with one's quirk is important within our line of work", it seems like Izuku's mentor is actually about to drop some heavy knowledgeable stuff on him. That is, until he admits with a slight chuckle, "Plus … this is all I know how to teach you."

Izuku raises his eyebrows, his stare becoming more and more skeptical. "All you've been teaching me is how to fall on my ass", and his current demeanor sitting on his sweat soaked butt is plenty proof to back his remark.

"Better than your head", but Hawks is ready with his own witty retort. The hero's smile stretches into a toothy grin that's more goofy than aloof.

Izuku doesn't smile back. He fixes his mentor with a glare. Being forced into this, he'd at least expected something in return. Leaving behind his friends and U.A, he had hoped a hero of Hawks' stature would teach him how to be better. It's pretty bad training when a student is willing to say they'd rather be taught by Aizawa.

Hawks sees how intense the kid is, so he loses his grin and gets serious too. "Alright…", the hero drops down to sit across from his protege. "How do you think I'm able to control my feathers?"

Quirk analysis used to be a huge hobby of Izuku's. He spent a lot of time theorizing how's or what's. Occasionally, he bothered to question the why's. It takes him a moment to recall what he had written down in some of his quirk analysis journals for Hawks. "I dunno … Telepathically?", his answer is more of a question of its own.

Hawks slaps a knee as he laughs, "Ha! Not exactly, but that's a good guess" After he gets his giggles out, he reaches behind himself to pluck a feather from one of his wings. "Here", the hero offers it to his protege. When he sees Izuku being hesitant, he shakes it to usher the boy, "Go on."

Izuku takes the single feather, gripping it by the quill. It sways with the transfer of touch. "What am I supposed to do with this?", he raises it to his eye level in an attempt to inspect it closer.

Hawks shrugs, vaguely gesturing with his hands. "Play with it a bit", and his suggestion is no better at being anything other than whimsical.

"Play.. ?", Izuku looks up at his mentor as he deadpans. The look he gets back though, it's a sudden shift in expression that takes him by surprise, making him reconsider.

"Feathers are typically light, but mine can be pretty considerably strong" Hawks fans his feathers with a slight flap of his wings. The plumage ruffles, raw red standing on end as they sharpen into a point; the solid stone switch from softness reminds Izuku of Kirishima's quirk. "One feather can carry a person, ya know" And he can feel that durability in the feather that he's holding, one tap of his thumb against the quill is enough to draw blood like a finger prick. "But I'm not limited to just one when I'm controlling them – I can carry multiple loads at once", the range of this power strikes a chord in Izuku that makes him look at Hawks with admiration.

"That must take a lot of focus", Izuku strokes the vane of the feather to feel its flexibility. Playing with it doesn't seem like such a bad idea anymore, the malleable material making for a fascinating thing to study.

Hawks scratches behind his ear, chuckling. "Kinda hard for anyone to have THAT much focus, let alone during a fight – and especially when you're referring to me", he makes it clear that he's not selling himself short while he says this by maintaining that serious expression he doesn't typically wear on his face.

Izuku blinks back his surprise before guessing, "So.. Spatial awareness then?"

"Not quite", Hawks shakes his head. He lifts a finger to twitch in unison with what he explains next about his quirk, "My feathers are sensitive as they are strong, allowing me to feel vibrations in the air during reconnaissance."

Izuku cocks his head to the side, mulling that information over as though it carries a lot of weight. "Like echolocation?", the best example he can come up with is how a bug may use its antennae or a bat its cries.

"Sure", Hawks doesn't really dwell on the matter to determine whether or not that's exactly what he means though. "My point is – it takes that connection to have that kinda control", he instead redirects Izuku's focus onto his own quirk.

Izuku nods as he stares down at his arms, imagining the chains that tread from them occasionally. "Right – The durability changes depending on your preference", he compares his chainsaws to his mentor's feathers and finally starts to find a way to understand Hawks' lesson.

"Like flexing a muscle", Hawks bends his arm for emphasis. His wings stretch to their full span next, reiterating what the hero means. Izuku's eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets as he takes in the sight.

"I've been thinking of my chains as tools instead of extensions of myself", it all begins clicking in place like puzzle pieces snapping together within his mind. He'd be generating steam from overclocking his brain if it hadn't already been blown to the point that his head emits smoke.

Hawks laughs when he sees that he finally got through to his protege. "Give my way a go next time and see if the results are any different", he ruffles the boy's hair a bit and then stands up to get things moving again. "Worth a shot, right?"

Izuku smiles, nodding at Hawks with an enthusiastic hum. He hops up to his feet now that he's full of a rejuvenated vigor. A thrumming in his chest gets him excited to use his quirk again. This time, it'll be a different turnout, he can tell.

They're about to commence another bout of training when the room's metallic doors slide open. Heels clack against the floor's surface as a familiar lady enters. Her usual apparel of a matching tie and blazer sway with her hips during her strut. "Miss Makima", Hawks greets his superior with a bow to convey his respect. Izuku takes a second longer, hesitating, but begrudgingly matches the gesture nevertheless.

"As you were", Makima waves her hand as though to pardon them. Her golden gaze watches them return to form, a smile playing at her lips. "It appears you've become well acquainted with our facilities", the HPSC Director shifts that stare onto Izuku solely and smiles wider, "Glad to see that you're settling in."

Izuku shrugs. He doesn't have much to say. Well, he has a few words for her, but … his mom taught him that he shouldn't speak if he has nothing nice to say. Hawks shares a look with the boy, getting the gist of that, and the two communicate silently through their glance then to decide he'll talk for the both of them.

Hawks clears his throat to move Makima's attention to him, "Is there a reason for disrupting our training session or… ?", but trails off on purpose to make it seem like a casual interjection.

"There's nothing like practical experience to raise up the next generation", Makima folds her arms behind her back as she announces, "Midoriya's first mission has just come in."

"What?!", both Hawks and Izuku can't contain their shock. "But I just got here!", Izuku gestures wildly around the room they're in before seeking help from Hawks with another glance in the hero's direction.

"I agree with the kid on this one", Hawks comes to the boy's aid by quite literally stepping in between him and the crimson haired woman, "It's much too soon to be throwing him into anything."

Makima's smile vanishes. "Are you disobeying my orders?" Izuku can't see her glare from behind Hawk's back. Not until his mentor steps aside to make way for her. Then she's smiling again.

Izuku looks at Hawks, searching for support, but he's hung his head low to hide his eyes. It's just he and the woman across from him. Makima steps closer, looming over the boy. "Are you forgetting? You're in my care now, Midoriya. I expect 'yes' or 'woof' for answers. I don't need a dog that says no."

Izuku can feel his chest churning internally. If his chainsaws were out, they would be growling. Instead, all the boy can manage is the grinding of his teeth gritted together. "I'm not a dog", he forces out a bitter bite while withholding the rest of his anger with clenched fists.

But that subsides when a gentle hand lands on his shoulder. Hawks returns to Izuku's side, shaking his head. "Easy does it…", he gives the boy a slight squeeze before sighing. "We report to the Director, so unfortunately, what she says goes."

"Don't fret", Makima moves aside for them to follow her when she begins walking out of the training room, "Midoriya won't be alone on this mission."

Hawks gives Izuku a push so that he knows to trail behind her. "I'll be joining him?", the hero's hopeful tone makes Makima glance back at them.

"No", and she smiles that damnable upturn of her mouth again. "This mission will be headed by another agency."

Suddenly, something sprouts up from the floor. Izuku jumps back, surprised to see a human passing through the ground. The person would be a spitting image of a younger All Might if not for their uniform's white color scheme and yellow visor. Just as boisterous and enthusiastic as the symbol of peace can be, the muscular blonde grins ear to ear while chanting. "The future rules! The future rules!"

"Wh- What?", Izuku blanches at the weird dance he's witnessing.

Makima remains unphased, still looking back. "It's something Sir Nighteye may like to hear you say when you meet him."