But not permanently! Shit that stung though--better than a coffee to wake up!
[He does vaguely wonder who'd get worn out first--Bakugo's blasts, or his regenerative skills. Everyone has a limit, but sometimes those limits are absurdly high. If Bakugo's dependent on his sweat, a normal bodily function, and was able to cook up such a strong blast near instantly while relatively relaxed, Chobe imagines he technically gets powered up the more he pushes him. The more exertion, the more sweat, after all. Aaah, how annoying. Things for him to ponder over later.
He tugs at his shirt, looking it over. Yep, barely a blood stain or singed fiber. . .from the front, at least. Able to move so quickly and deal so much damage with such precision, that's a fucking problem. He's starting to understand why normal criminals might throw in the towel real damn quick, this brat's a hassle to deal with. Unfortunately for Bakugo, Chobe isn't most criminals, and every blast makes him more and more intrigued. He wonders if the hero is starting to clue in on his weak point as well--no doubt he was watching his body as it recovered. He rolls his neck, laughing.]
Nice shot, you don't owe me another shirt. . .but were ya totally sure I'd come back?
[Chobe was mostly positive himself of course, but he constantly lives on the edge. No one's actually managed to behead him outside of. . .studies long ago, and he never knows when his flower is going to wilt and put him into recovery mode. But guess that's not today!]
Well, guess it doesn't matter. Dynamite though? A little on the nose, ain't it?
no subject
[He does vaguely wonder who'd get worn out first--Bakugo's blasts, or his regenerative skills. Everyone has a limit, but sometimes those limits are absurdly high. If Bakugo's dependent on his sweat, a normal bodily function, and was able to cook up such a strong blast near instantly while relatively relaxed, Chobe imagines he technically gets powered up the more he pushes him. The more exertion, the more sweat, after all. Aaah, how annoying. Things for him to ponder over later.
He tugs at his shirt, looking it over. Yep, barely a blood stain or singed fiber. . .from the front, at least. Able to move so quickly and deal so much damage with such precision, that's a fucking problem. He's starting to understand why normal criminals might throw in the towel real damn quick, this brat's a hassle to deal with. Unfortunately for Bakugo, Chobe isn't most criminals, and every blast makes him more and more intrigued. He wonders if the hero is starting to clue in on his weak point as well--no doubt he was watching his body as it recovered. He rolls his neck, laughing.]
Nice shot, you don't owe me another shirt. . .but were ya totally sure I'd come back?
[Chobe was mostly positive himself of course, but he constantly lives on the edge. No one's actually managed to behead him outside of. . .studies long ago, and he never knows when his flower is going to wilt and put him into recovery mode. But guess that's not today!]
Well, guess it doesn't matter. Dynamite though? A little on the nose, ain't it?