"I've met scary. You're not it." You have to not have a face, for one. That's really the single item on Alex's criteria of Scary Shit That Needs To Die. Chara, on the other hand, is more or less just on his list of Shit That Needs To Die. Period, full stop.
The camera's his shield. That's all someone like him needs. He has Rocket's gun stowed away somewhere in his room, though its kick and loud bang don't make it a great weapon in his hands. He should've asked Rocket for a pistol of some kind, something a little more his speed. Maybe then this little shit would be the one with one death under their belt instead of him.
"Am I missing the carnage? Pity." A look behind you ploy might've worked in fifth grade, but not here and not now. "Say, why don't you get in on that action? Lots of punching and yelling and violence. Seems right up your alley."
Or they could play with some nuclear waste. He's really not picky on that front.
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The camera's his shield. That's all someone like him needs. He has Rocket's gun stowed away somewhere in his room, though its kick and loud bang don't make it a great weapon in his hands. He should've asked Rocket for a pistol of some kind, something a little more his speed. Maybe then this little shit would be the one with one death under their belt instead of him.
"Am I missing the carnage? Pity." A look behind you ploy might've worked in fifth grade, but not here and not now. "Say, why don't you get in on that action? Lots of punching and yelling and violence. Seems right up your alley."
Or they could play with some nuclear waste. He's really not picky on that front.