Well. More like crash. If he were not in such a precarious position right now, he could respect the play. High risk high reward, take out your opponent by any means necessary, including but not limited to giving yourself whiplash and utterly wrecking your swanky new ride. That's some top tier commitment there, he might even give her a bow.
By which i mean his torso is crushed so throroughly it knocks the wind, and whatever other juices he kept down, right out of him. His vines cease their attack as what remains of his upper half goes limp on the hood. There's a wet splat under the car as his crushed lower half gives in and disconnects, sliding down the pillar and on to the cold asphalt to join his other leg. A pool of blood, organs, and black ichor seep from beneath the hummer, the scent of copper mixing with the engine's now busted radiator as it leaks out.
Well, the deed is done, she's taken this guy out. She's free to explore the lot or simply hijack another limo. Who's going to stop her? The cops??? Good fucking luck.
But before she can get too far away, her ears may pick up the faint crackles of a dried up vine slinking at her on the concrete, like a misplaced viper. It's followed by the sound of creaking metal, and should she look over, something is forcing back the hummer juuuust enough to give Chobe's body some breathing room. She may get an eyeful of his mutilated corpse sprouting all sorts of twisting, rotting vines and roots, blinding whipping about to drag organs back into flesh, stitching limbs together, snapping bones back into place. Chobe's good eye opens wide as his torso's reattached proper, staring daggers at the wolf as that stray vine he sent toward her curls into the air and strikes. She can avoid it of course, but if she's not fast enough, he's gonna try to send her off with at least one new hole.]
cw more gore remember to buckle up kids
Well. More like crash. If he were not in such a precarious position right now, he could respect the play. High risk high reward, take out your opponent by any means necessary, including but not limited to giving yourself whiplash and utterly wrecking your swanky new ride. That's some top tier commitment there, he might even give her a bow.
By which i mean his torso is crushed so throroughly it knocks the wind, and whatever other juices he kept down, right out of him. His vines cease their attack as what remains of his upper half goes limp on the hood. There's a wet splat under the car as his crushed lower half gives in and disconnects, sliding down the pillar and on to the cold asphalt to join his other leg. A pool of blood, organs, and black ichor seep from beneath the hummer, the scent of copper mixing with the engine's now busted radiator as it leaks out.
Well, the deed is done, she's taken this guy out. She's free to explore the lot or simply hijack another limo. Who's going to stop her? The cops??? Good fucking luck.
But before she can get too far away, her ears may pick up the faint crackles of a dried up vine slinking at her on the concrete, like a misplaced viper. It's followed by the sound of creaking metal, and should she look over, something is forcing back the hummer juuuust enough to give Chobe's body some breathing room. She may get an eyeful of his mutilated corpse sprouting all sorts of twisting, rotting vines and roots, blinding whipping about to drag organs back into flesh, stitching limbs together, snapping bones back into place. Chobe's good eye opens wide as his torso's reattached proper, staring daggers at the wolf as that stray vine he sent toward her curls into the air and strikes. She can avoid it of course, but if she's not fast enough, he's gonna try to send her off with at least one new hole.]