brother_nature | Golden Peacock

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[If Bakugo were to turn that trick on him, it wouldn't be the first time. Being "lasered," that is. Turns out, it fucking sucks! And sometimes plant-like gods attack with them. One would think they'd attack with vines or flower petals or some shit, but nope. Fucking lasers!

Back to the matter at hand, Chobe curses under his breath as he takes cover, leaning against the barrier of vines. He could just go all out, full vine assault, but the thought makes him sick. Using even a fraction of his full power on trash that isn't even real? Laughable, that's beneath him. Still, there's a reason he's fascinated by guns. Even if they can't kill him, they still fucking hurt. Good to know they just get deadlier and deadlier as years pass.

When Bakugo lands next to him, he scoffs, expecting some smart ass remark on how he left himself wide open (and to be fair, he did. Really, a rookie mistake). But instead, the hero's barking orders. Scowling, Chobe raises an eyebrow in suspicion. He'll do it, but his level of pride doesn't really make him a great team player.]

Don't tell me what to do, brat. You wanna see a trick that badly?

[He figures there's a reason for it, but the intent is lost on him for now. But he relents, holding out his palm. The skin splits as smaller, thick vines grow from it, twisting around each other until they form a palm-sized gourd, hollow as requested. He holds it over to Bakugo.]

What ya gonna do, make a fucking lantern?

[He's not gonna laser Chobe if he doesn't give him a reason to. Much rather blow up this shitty hotel and see everyone inside go back to their own homes. Can't say he's ever seen a plant person make use of a laser. Bakugo knows a few plant-based Quirks in his world, yet lasers aren't in their arsenal. He's got a classmate who can fire lasers from his navel...

Look, Bakugo's not a good team player either, always demanding to be the leader (and having the skills to back up those demands) while treating others on his team as resources to manage and make the best use of. He's gotten better over the year, but it's not instinctive. Why spend the resources of two or three people when one person (him) can get the entire job done faster, easier, and more efficiently? Unless they can do something he can't. And even that's a struggle given his Quirk's versatility and his intelligence + adaptable nature.]

Shut up and make it. [Didn't ask for a damn commentary. Bakugo takes the gourd, not even making a face at the way vines grow from Chobe's hand. He's seen grosser. Instead, he presses the top against the plant-man's scythe tip and swiftly slices it off, leaving a small hole to the inside. Then inverts his free hand over it, middle finger pointed down into the opening. Clear liquid beads at the tip before dripping, dripping, leaking, then trickling inside. It's not a fast stream, he can't secret his sweat at the same rate as people can work up saliva. But within a few seconds, enough's collected in the gourd. Which he hands right back to Chobe.]

Better. Plug it up and throw it over the wall. Don't shake it.

[Here's your grenade, man.]

[It takes a moment before Chobe catches on, and then he's actually impressed the hero's utilizing his bodily fluids in such a way. It's not entirely unheard of; he's seen various ninjutsu arts that involve forcibly secreting fluid from their pores, some with such mastery over their tao that they can use those fluids as malleable, sharp wires. Others would swallow poison, then secrete it through their skin in mimicry of poison dart frogs and the like.

But watching him squeeze out his hand to pump out explosive sweat? That's a first. But there's gotta be a more efficient process, he thinks. Sure, he'll naturally build it up pretty fast as he moves around, but it must be a pain for spur of the moment plans like this. . .

Well, thoughts for later. He holds his tongue over the clapback, still annoyed over being given orders. But as he rather not be blown apart in a simulator, he complies. Another vine takes back the homemade grenade, sealing the top and wrapping around it tightly so the sweat inside doesn't jostle. Then, like a crack of a whip, it's tossed over the wall, riiiight into the broken storefront. There's a faint clatter, and just barely a quip of an NPC going "What. . ."

Then boom. The force of which blows back against the wall, a few vines on the other taking the brunt of it and burning off. Glass and building bits fire off as well, and they can see the disintegrating colorful hologram cubes of the attackers scattered among the debris overhead. Chobe almost loses his footing, but then. . .just starts laughing. Look even he isn't so petty he can't appreciate a good demolition!! To think just a few beads of sweat was such an annoying menace for him before, a grenade full is just nasty. He cackles, slapping Bakugo on the shoulder.]

Alright, I'll concede, those were some nice fireworks! If those were flesh and blood people, you would have just fucking annihilated 'em! Hah!

[Someday, Bakugo can tell Chobe about his hero costume, provided the guy wants to sit there and listen to him talk about it. But mostly going over the gear on his forearms, which utilize the absorbent padding of his armored gloves and the siphons along his forearms to suck his sweat up and store it in tanks stored within his gauntlets. Meaning during battle, even while he's at rest, his costume's charging up fuel for even larger explosions. Which can also be emptied out into makeshift grenades. Like this one. All to say, efficiency, so he doesn't have to "milk the snake" whenever he needs to create an impromptu bomb.

While Bakugo bristles about being given orders exactly the same as Chobe, there's a slight difference between ordering someone around and providing direction/instruction in a momentary team up situation. He silently notes how the man seals up the gourd's top-- impressive --and then braces himself for the resulting explosion. Whip crack toss. Can't see the landing, but a tinkle of glass says he soared it right through the damn window. Better how this fucking vine wall holds up because it's gonna be BIG!

SHIT!! He braces against the wall slightly, feeling it surge and quiver from heated impact. At max power, one Grenadier Bracer can level a building. A grenade like that likely destroyed the general "room" Chobe's target crouched in. There goes cubes, scattered all over in a censored smear of gore. Bakugo stands up while the madman beside him busts a gut. For some reason... and he doesn't want to think too hard about it... Chobe's laughter over it's kinda childishly cute.

Oof-!!] Don't hit me, Zombie! [Jeeze. What a pain in the ass. He clicks his tongue but doesn't try to smack him. But his scowl morphs into a semi-eerie grin over praising his power.] Of course it would have! That's the point!

Careful now, yer lookin' more like a villain~

[Of course, he assumes Bakugo can't help but taking some pride in his skills, rather than reveling in the pg-rated massacre. It may be a smaller explosion to him, but it's still impressive to Chobe. A big payoff for such a small package.

He lowers the wall, the vines either withering or slinking back into exposed skin, and he fans away the smoke. That took out a good chunk of the thugs, but the last handful is still slinking around, regrouping. He warps his scythe, shrinking it and making it more akin to a sword blade attached to his arm. Now he can get close and personal while slicing heads off. Best of both worlds!!]

Heeeh. Whaddya say--all or nothin'? See who can take out the rest of these goons the fastest. 'Course, if yer tired from showin' off, I can clean up for ya.

[Technically, Chobe's bound to lose regardless due to all the hits he took. His tendency to just tank hits knowing his body will heal itself has come back to bite him. But he's not going to lose quietly, dangit.]

I've heard that bullshit before! [From his childhood friends all the way to the fucking public at large. Bastards wanna judge him on what he looks like, not what he's literally doing in front of their faces! But Chobe's right; Bakugo's doped up on adrenaline and pride right now, actually having some goddamn fun in this place for once! Weird it's beside a criminal.

Grit crunches underfoot as he turns and eyes Chobe's lowering wall. Damn, he can make some pretty big constructs with that. There goes the scythe, transforming into a forearm blade for good measure. Someone wants to get close range again. He really needs to figure out what these limits are! Most of the time Chobe's flora constructs remain attached to him despite taking larger shapes and covering wide areas. Pretty sure he can separate them from himself, but does he lose control of them once they're sliced? Do they get weaker? ... Not gonna ask right now, but it's something he's keeping in mind for later.]

Haa?! I'm barely breaking a sweat! Back off; I can handle the rest of these assholes on my own! [Rawr! Someone wants to be oh so impressive. Explosions burst and pop around his hand, other hand charging up another larger blast.] Just try to keep up with me.

[Bakugo only plans to take the killcount into consideration for who wins. Body hits are more a note for how he can improve. He faces their approaching foes, who appear to be moving towards them en masse, like an angry mob full of pitchforks and clubs. Well, in this case, upgraded to modern weaponry.] Don't lose too hard, Zombie!

[Ka-BOOM! Murder McMissile away.]

A kitten tellin' a tiger to keep up is real cute, Sparky.

["heard that before." An idea begins to worm itself into Chobe's head, that particular bit sticking out in particular. It'd be a gamble, he thinks, but hey, they're in a casino, right. . .? Well, he can try it later. No reason to ruin the game for now.

He sprints forward, gleefully gutting a man, dragging the blade through their simulated flesh, exiting through a shoulder. It's fun, but there's nothing that compares to actual meat and bone, blood spraying in your face. The blade vine sinks into is skin as he switches to just bare hands and punches another square in the face, beating them until they burst into pixels. Bakugo's assumptions are correct--Chobe isn't some kind of earth bender, he can't control the vines unless they are still connected to him in some way, even if that's just through a single root or vine. How far he can push this though? He'll have to find out another day.

He grabs the last thug near him, picking him up, and just doin' an old school neck snap on the guy. Gotta go with the classics. He frowns slightly--he kinda just wants to snap someone's neck for real now, but ah well. He wipes his hands, turning his attention to Bakugo's manic massacre.]

Careful, they might string ya up like a witch.

You're a fucking weed, and I'm not a damn kitten, Zombie!

[Keep poking away at him and see what happens! Bakugo's fully focused on clearing out the other combatants, bouncing from one explosion to the next. Completely upside down, one hand plastered right atop another opponent's head, and BOOM!! cubes all over the fucking place! Smoke trails after him as recoil forces him backwards, flipping once in the air before rocketing off in another angle.

Chobe's going strong over there; his scythe hasn't stopped swinging since he sprinted. Until he puts it away and switches to berserk tactics. Hand combat. For all those vines and plant powers, Bakugo gets the feeling the man was originally a close quarters brawler rather than someone with powers. His instinctive use of his arms and legs are evidence enough while he fights. But adaptable is written all over his movements. Stubborn when he wants to be, flexible when he feels like it. A dangerous person all around. Bakugo's learned a lot about Chobe, and it's only their second time "hanging out" together.

One final explosion and Bakugo emerges from the smoke, arms swinging by his side in a relaxed swagger compared to his more aggressive stalking hunch. Chobe got to witness the last of his raging bombing while the plant man snapped a neck. Hey, if that's how he wants to get his last point in, go for it. Bakugo went out with a bang!]

No one's left to string me up.

[Chobe's starting to think Bakugo doesn't do anything without a bang. Suits him though, he thinks. And with him zipping all over the place, it reminds Chobe how annoyingly speedy the brat is. He feels like he'd have slightly more of an advantage in close quarters to inhibit that mobility, but the downside is Bakugo could just fucking blow him up. A living, highly mobile grenade, with a short fuse and barely contained bloodlust. If he were back in Chobe's time, he'd rack up a rep that'd send most villains scrambling in little to no time.

Once the smoke clears, Chobe slow claps. Half sarcastic, half genuine, if casual. He's not gonna lie and say he wasn't entertained. And he's picked up quite a bit, not just about Bakugo, but the level of technology in this place. Coming from someone who didn't know what a television was a week ago, he feels like he's adapting pretty well.

He grins wide, surveying the chaos, satisfied.]

Hah! Color me surprised. Here I was convinced you were gonna have cry and whine for help. [He knows Bakugo would never, but he won't ever stop needling. He checks his watch--high score goes to Bakugo of course, but all Chobe can do can snicker.]

Huuuh, looks like you won. But if a weed could keep up with a comet, that means ya need to step up yer game for next time.

[He is a loud one. Ironically he's usually pretty quiet and serious, liking his surroundings calm. But being a living pile of gunpowder means a volatile existence, going off at little things aplenty. Still, during a battle, it's noise and light and heat all over, leaving clouds of smoke and ringing eardrums over craters and collateral damage. Of which there's surprisingly little. His blasts focused far more on their targets than wanton destruction. Sure a few stores are gonna need face lifts and windows replaced, but the battle stayed almost entirely contained to this street, and one section at that.

Chobe did far more damage than Bakugo. But that's Chobe for you. It sucks because, bloodlust aside, Bakugo could see the guy using his powers to be a hero. But he made his decision, and comes from an entirely different kind of world.]

Hmph. [He'll take half the clap. Bakugo's victory two fold. He won their competition and he kept Chobe entertained without villainous craziness. Does he think it'll work every time? Hell no! But whenever it's good enough, is one less clash. If he ever finds the guy in here on his own, Bakugo's gonna be pretty impressed. He picks up quick.]

Haa?! That's bullshit and you know it. You'd piss yourself before I cried for help. [He'll never! Firing a barb right back because that's what they do now. At least Chobe didn't come in far behind him. Ignoring the subtraction for getting shot, their scores are close. Good. He'd be pissed if the man sucked bad enough to lag far behind.]

Don't change your comparison. [A kitten's now a comet, so a weed becomes...? Bakugo rolls his shoulder and tilts his head, sending a pop and a few cracks into the air.] Next time I'll plaster your score all over the ground.

That a threat or a promise?

[Or both?? And perhaps a more apt comparison might be a redwood, but Chobe doesn't know what the fuck those are. That said, Bakugo's plan indeed works, the bandit thoroughly distracted and appetite for needless violence sated. For now, anyway. He's absolutely gonna go terrorize a couple others after this but hey, it ain't on Bakugo's watch, so it's all good.

He snorts at the assertion, sticking out his tongue like the oh so mature man he is.]

Real cocky of ya to think I'd play a kid's game again, buuuut. . .guess this place ain't all bad. Might even hit it up alone, if I'm bored.

[Less so to mutilate fake enemies; that part doesn't entice him. You can only learn and improve so much from killing off dummies, after all. No, the ability to reshape the room and conjure an illusion of practically any location is the real draw. He'll have to figure out its limitations later.]

So I'll concede to ya this time, hero. Though it does make me wonder how long you can get by on cheap distractions like this, too.

[Just how many npcs can Bakugo blow up before he gets bored. . .? Well, hundreds, if not thousands, probably. It's decent exercise, more so when made a competition, but ultimately a distraction is all it is.

Least it's fun though.]

A threat's a violent promise.

[What kind of violence is the clincher. Yeah, Bakugo was pretty sure the guy wouldn't know what a redwood, or a missile, was. He doesn't chase the topic. And while he might otherwise challenge Chobe to a second round, he's aware his trek's reached the end. Bastard has a patience limit and like hell is Bakugo going to come off as a begging or clingy to anyone. He can't stop Chobe from being a violent piece of shit to other people all the time, but... he can sour grape a compromise over the hotel getting damaged because it swallowed a problem child.

Bakugo promptly flicks Chobe's tongue with his middle finger. Keep that in there unless you're gonna use it, Zombie.]

Shut up. You wouldn't have made those faces if it was a kid's game. [Chobe genuinely enjoyed himself. He's not going to find this kind of setup out in the hotel. Thugs aren't running around attacking people. Snipers don't sit in the rafters. Organized crime won't put bounties on his head. For someone who loves chaos, there's not a lot out in the hotel.]

Do what you want with it. You know how to work the controls. [At least for a beginner. Bakugo walks to the panel and keys in a few more commands on its surface. Similar construction happens in reverse, buildings sliding into walls, lampposts breaking down into vanishing cubes, the skyline rushing towards them as the back wall surges into proper placement.]

I'll get by on it until I get the chance to rip this fucking bird apart with my own damn hands. [All of this is practice for taking out the Golden Peacock. From beating up monsters to taking out henchmen to maneuvering through changing landscape. Bakugo refuses to let any of his skills go soft in this stupid golden cage.] Unless you're gonna try to give me a challenge in here.

[Yeah, that's an invitation to spar or fight in the future.]

You know what? I'm gonna steal that.

[He's not wrong!! Look at him, donating some good villain lines for later. When the setting begins to dissolve and retract, once more Chobe startles slightly. Can't kill old habits in a day, he supposes. He's reminded how empty and white the room originally was, and how uncomfortable that felt. He'll have to mess with the controls himself later, or find a way to leave something on when folks aren't there. . .

Welp, problems for later. His tension eases, and he gives a light laugh.]

Why don't you conjure up what ya think the big bird looks like, and find different ways to tear 'em apart? Might do ya some good.

[It's a joke, but he wouldn't be surprised if the hero does have knowledge on how to incapacitate a giant peacock. Why not! This kid's got more pent up aggression than Chobe has ever had, and he's lived a century. It's impressive, honestly. He shakes his head, amused, and then starts making his way to the exit.]

If I feel like pissin' ya off, sure, I'll hit ya up. So long as you keep it interesting.

See ya around, Sparky.

Go for it.

[Surprised that was Chobe's first time hearing it. Or even thinking it. Oh don't get him wrong; Bakugo's said some shit that'd make other heroes pause and look at him weird. Did a hero just threaten to splatter someone across the wall? Yep! Did he tell a shop owner to learn how to use a fucking shotgun to blow away thieves next time? Yep! Did he yell "DIE!!" at his opponent before nuking them with full force? YEP!! You know, there's this ranking in Bakugo's world called "Heroes that look like Villains"...

The room returns to its normal sterile white cell look and Bakugo heads for the door. It'll likely clean itself up before the next person arrives. Or the staff will. He's never hung around long enough after using it to watch. Better things to do.]

Tch. Maybe. [That's not a bad idea, even if it feels kinda stupid. Bad enough mood over something hotel-related petty and he might just do that.] It's probably designed not to show any actual trace of the damn thing.

[Someone might use to try for an advantage. And unfortunately, no, Bakugo has not fought a giant peacock before. He exits the door and steps to the side, letting Chobe come out, before shutting it. Then shoves his hands into his pockets and turns halfway to the left, intending to take his leave.]

Hmph. Don't bore me, Zombie.

Later.

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