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♠ | 027 | Video + Spam
[Bond has a lot of weapons. A lot. He has a small gun locker filled with guns for all occasions. He has a small arsenal. And what is he armed with? Not his Walther, not an assault rifle or a sniper, but a plastic sword.
He's also dressed in a beautifully fitted Tom Ford suit. He thinks it's a suit of armor, but you can trust James Bond to look damn good while he larps.
When he holds the communicator up, it's clear he's standing near the gym's entrance. The look on his face is very serious as he looks up into the camera, fake sword propped on his shoulder.]
In the name of all that's Holy, [and wow he will be laughing at this later], none will pass into this realm.
[And there's a bit of fumbling for a moment, while he finds a place to set the communicator up. Drama and staging are important. Backing up a few steps, he points his (very fake, did I mention how fake it looks) sword at the screen.]
Any who try shall regret crossing blades with - wait--
[He pulls a die from his pocket and crouches down to roll it. When he sees the result, he nods definitively and rises again, pocketing his token.]
None who cross blades with Sir Shieldhart shall live.
He's also dressed in a beautifully fitted Tom Ford suit. He thinks it's a suit of armor, but you can trust James Bond to look damn good while he larps.
When he holds the communicator up, it's clear he's standing near the gym's entrance. The look on his face is very serious as he looks up into the camera, fake sword propped on his shoulder.]
In the name of all that's Holy, [and wow he will be laughing at this later], none will pass into this realm.
[And there's a bit of fumbling for a moment, while he finds a place to set the communicator up. Drama and staging are important. Backing up a few steps, he points his (very fake, did I mention how fake it looks) sword at the screen.]
Any who try shall regret crossing blades with - wait--
[He pulls a die from his pocket and crouches down to roll it. When he sees the result, he nods definitively and rises again, pocketing his token.]
None who cross blades with Sir Shieldhart shall live.
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[He lifts the sword in one hand, presses his hand to the flat of the 'blade,' and pushes.
Well, pretends to push. Look at that fake exertion! Look at his arms shake! Look at that foam and plastic sword not move because he is not. actually. trying. He sure does think he is, though.
When he's done, he settles it over his shoulder.]
Are you quite satisfied, now?
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I hate this fucking place.
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[Sorry, Arthas. He'll buy him a beer or. Show him how to shoot a gun or something later.]