[Chobe would absolutely attack Bakugo if he felt it'd make the game more fun, or if he thought he could get away with a decent hit. As it is now 1) he doesn't want to set the living grenade off on a explosive rage fit and 2) ........he still doesn't know exactly how this room and his watch works. The door's still there, but the city's so realistic, it's easy to get turned around in. So, he's content just playing by the rules for now.
He gives a snort at that last remark. Weed? Well, yeah, apt. Jealous? No way. He's perfectly happy with his body and powers. And yeah, he's died before--twice even, going down fighting each time. He doesn't want to die, no, and that ferocity to live is part of what sparked his body to change in the first place. But when outmatched and on the verge of death, he'd never beg. Just do what he can, and take as many down with him as possible.
He covers an arm with a multitude of vines, creating something of a lashing cat o' ninetailes. He gives a smirk.]
Jealous? Nah. Wouldn't wanna risk blowin' my dick off every time I went to the bathroom.
[He assumes that's not actually an issue, but consider: he figures it'll piss off the hero. He's lived for a century now, but sometimes, his humor's as low and crude as any teenager's.
The vines surge forward, taking out a slew of thugs all at once in various vicious fashions. One lashes across a throat, creating a holographic spray of blood before the figure crumbles, another cuts them in half, one grabbed, lifted high and slammed hard into the concrete, etc etc. He's multitasking!]
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[Chobe would absolutely attack Bakugo if he felt it'd make the game more fun, or if he thought he could get away with a decent hit. As it is now 1) he doesn't want to set the living grenade off on a explosive rage fit and 2) ........he still doesn't know exactly how this room and his watch works. The door's still there, but the city's so realistic, it's easy to get turned around in. So, he's content just playing by the rules for now.
He gives a snort at that last remark. Weed? Well, yeah, apt. Jealous? No way. He's perfectly happy with his body and powers. And yeah, he's died before--twice even, going down fighting each time. He doesn't want to die, no, and that ferocity to live is part of what sparked his body to change in the first place. But when outmatched and on the verge of death, he'd never beg. Just do what he can, and take as many down with him as possible.
He covers an arm with a multitude of vines, creating something of a lashing cat o' ninetailes. He gives a smirk.]
Jealous? Nah. Wouldn't wanna risk blowin' my dick off every time I went to the bathroom.
[He assumes that's not actually an issue, but consider: he figures it'll piss off the hero. He's lived for a century now, but sometimes, his humor's as low and crude as any teenager's.
The vines surge forward, taking out a slew of thugs all at once in various vicious fashions. One lashes across a throat, creating a holographic spray of blood before the figure crumbles, another cuts them in half, one grabbed, lifted high and slammed hard into the concrete, etc etc. He's multitasking!]