The entire place was dingy, grime and dust coating the cemented walls that seemed to echo the cries of several the moment he was guided past the basement entrance. His shoes stuck to the unkempt floor with every trudging step he took, nose crinkling at the suction noise it made.

He had to hold back a disgusted grimace when his feathers lightly brushed along the filth, but his wings seemed to do all the talking when they flattened against his back.

“Not up to your standards, pretty boy?” Dabi's grin was naturally wicked, but something about what he was going to show the feathered hero tugged positively at the staples near his lips.

He didn't reply. Too sickened by the sharp stench of blood that became more apparent the further they strode.

People trafficking was sick in general, but these living conditions must come alongside a whole list of diseases.. Just what were you thinking, Dabi? His eyes narrowed, squinting almost as he peered alongside the doors that slowly began to appear more and more frequently.

In true Keigo-like fashion, he attempted to act as carefree as he physically could bring himself to as they dipped into one of the rooms. Probably just as dirty as the rest of them, but something about this room reeked of bloodlust. Making the hairs on Keigo's neck stand as still and as stiffly as he was when he saw what — or who — was the cause.

“Ooo, caught yer eye, ah? This one's fiesty. Tried to bite at my hand once.” Dabi gestured towards you curled up into a corner. Looking both scared out of your mind and itching for a taste of liquid iron. “Won't be tryin' that again, will you?”

His rasped voice dropped to a low enough octave that made you flinch with memories.

“Fiesty, hm?” Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Keigo took a few sharp steps forward. Mainly to avoid sticking to the dense flooring, “Think you can play nice with my pet parrot?”

“Your death wish.” The villain shrugged. Before flicking his cerulean gaze over to your pathetic existence. “Answer him.”