Post by Demetrio D'Cruz on Jul 7, 2019 17:29:32 GMT
Demetrio honestly couldn't remember the last time he was in a school building before U.A. His younger years of schooling had been fulfilled at upscale boarding schools or via private tutors, hired by his father using their very illegally obtained wealth. That had been back when Pro Heroes were enemies to be mislead and, if needed, deal with. Back when Demetrio himself had viewed them with disdain and done all he could to avoid them. Long before he'd ever taken the job of a Pro himself and 'Desire' was born. And certainly long before he ever considered teaching. The son of a mob boss who had helped develop his father's burgeoning criminal empire, a criminal since a young age. So much of what he'd done in his youth was on record. His excellence in hero work aside, he could hardly believe that the school had accepted his application. If he had children of his own, he wasn't certain he'd want a man like himself around them. But, here he was.
His expression remained one of cool confidence even as his mind whirled in processing the unexpected turn his life had taken. Putting his doubts aside, he tried to focus on the fact that he was here. That his past had not kept him from moving on in his life. He'd gotten the position and, soon, he'd be training those who would become the next generation. That was a much better legacy to leave than his father's crime-ridden one.
With the sort of swagger only certain men are capable of Deme rounded a corner, eyes sliding down the hall to find the door of his destination ahead. The only reason he'd left the comfort of the teachers' office was to follow up on a bit of curiosity. There had been a name in some of the paperwork he'd received, one he recognized from an encounter a number of years ago. Deme had brushed shoulders with many heroes over time, but this one had stuck, enough that he'd recognized the man right off. The reason for this acute memory had to do with the fact that Deme had once had to rely on him for assistance after a particularly nasty villain encounter, which had strained his quirk to the point that he'd been left in physical pain. That, coupled with injuries from the battle, had warranted him immediate attention. That in and of itself wasn't what had made the man's name stick, though. Deme had seen numerous medical professionals over the years, some of them being other heroes. No, this particular individual's quirk was what had made him so memorable. A quirk that healed only when a secret was shared.
Demetrio had many secrets, some darker than others. After all, he hadn't told the authorities everything when he turned himself and his family in, only what was needed. It had taken him a moment to process what to tell the doctor, which part of himself to share. He wouldn't tell him about Antonio. His former lover's identity he kept secret for his safety, not because he was ashamed of him. Which had left him with a plethora of things from his criminal background. He didn't remember exactly what he'd told him, only that it had come from his past and had been painful to share. Still, it had worked. The tradeoff for reliving those things he wanted to get was that his body was healed. Still, it had been such a terribly uncomfortable experience.
He hadn't seen the doctor since then. He wasn't even sure if the man remembered him, surely he'd had so many patients over the years that one face wouldn't stick. But Demetrio was curious. Curious to see if he'd stuck in the man's mind as the good doctor had in his. It didn't truly matter if he had or not. Either way, Demetrio's curiosity would be satisfied and he would move on to the next thing. But there was this itch to know...and so he followed up on it and found his way to the infirmary.
Deme rapped firmly on the door before pushing inside.
"Olá?" he called, thus announcing himself, "Is the doctor in?"
His expression remained one of cool confidence even as his mind whirled in processing the unexpected turn his life had taken. Putting his doubts aside, he tried to focus on the fact that he was here. That his past had not kept him from moving on in his life. He'd gotten the position and, soon, he'd be training those who would become the next generation. That was a much better legacy to leave than his father's crime-ridden one.
With the sort of swagger only certain men are capable of Deme rounded a corner, eyes sliding down the hall to find the door of his destination ahead. The only reason he'd left the comfort of the teachers' office was to follow up on a bit of curiosity. There had been a name in some of the paperwork he'd received, one he recognized from an encounter a number of years ago. Deme had brushed shoulders with many heroes over time, but this one had stuck, enough that he'd recognized the man right off. The reason for this acute memory had to do with the fact that Deme had once had to rely on him for assistance after a particularly nasty villain encounter, which had strained his quirk to the point that he'd been left in physical pain. That, coupled with injuries from the battle, had warranted him immediate attention. That in and of itself wasn't what had made the man's name stick, though. Deme had seen numerous medical professionals over the years, some of them being other heroes. No, this particular individual's quirk was what had made him so memorable. A quirk that healed only when a secret was shared.
Demetrio had many secrets, some darker than others. After all, he hadn't told the authorities everything when he turned himself and his family in, only what was needed. It had taken him a moment to process what to tell the doctor, which part of himself to share. He wouldn't tell him about Antonio. His former lover's identity he kept secret for his safety, not because he was ashamed of him. Which had left him with a plethora of things from his criminal background. He didn't remember exactly what he'd told him, only that it had come from his past and had been painful to share. Still, it had worked. The tradeoff for reliving those things he wanted to get was that his body was healed. Still, it had been such a terribly uncomfortable experience.
He hadn't seen the doctor since then. He wasn't even sure if the man remembered him, surely he'd had so many patients over the years that one face wouldn't stick. But Demetrio was curious. Curious to see if he'd stuck in the man's mind as the good doctor had in his. It didn't truly matter if he had or not. Either way, Demetrio's curiosity would be satisfied and he would move on to the next thing. But there was this itch to know...and so he followed up on it and found his way to the infirmary.
Deme rapped firmly on the door before pushing inside.
"Olá?" he called, thus announcing himself, "Is the doctor in?"
