judgemewhole (
judgemewhole) wrote in
faderift2018-06-14 09:20 am
Entry tags:
[Open] Now Her Hand Is Raised
WHO: James Norrington and You
WHAT: James is completing his assignment for Forces, OR hey how effective is a broken bottle in a fight anyways?
WHEN: Mid-Justinian
WHERE: The Gallows - Training Grounds
NOTES: Warnings for possible violence? James is seriously trying out everything.
WHAT: James is completing his assignment for Forces, OR hey how effective is a broken bottle in a fight anyways?
WHEN: Mid-Justinian
WHERE: The Gallows - Training Grounds
NOTES: Warnings for possible violence? James is seriously trying out everything.
It's not unlike James Norrington to be out in the training yard, working on his sword and shield work. It is, after all, what won him such acclaim at the Tourney, and he practices daily to keep up those 'world-renowned' skills up to snuff.
Today, though ... today is a different sort of day. Today, James has got the equivalent of a pile of junk before him, and is, if you can believe it, using it to attack the dummies on the far end. Right now he's got a broken wine bottle and seeing just how far he could stick it into the dummy's artery. There was a chain, some sticks, some sand ... he really was just trying out everything as a weapon. Including a frying pan.
Maker knew he was going to get on-lookers, but for as ridiculous as the scene was, he was taking it completely seriously.

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"Well this is more for if we are in a tight spot, and we have left our weaponry somewhere else. Or it was taken from us." James rubbed the scarring on his wrist. "One never wants to be helpless."
He shakes his head, "No modifications."
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Picking up the rope and one of the frying pans, the elf starts typing one to the handle of the other. Maybe it's against the mission rules but maybe this also seems like a fun idea to him.
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James watched with some fascination while the other man put together the frying pan and the rope.
"Are you going to use it as an improvised mace of some sort? Perhaps a morning star?"
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The rope is a bit too long for a mace or morning star, and once he has it tied, he holds the bulk of it in his left hand, and the rope closest to the pan in his right, letting it dangle just a few inches above the ground. "Not quite. But you may want to give a little room."
Because he starts swinging it, like a rope dart, albeit much slower, because a pan is fucking heavy. But, once it gets enough momentum on it, he brings it crashing against the dumbie, nearly crumbling the thing. Not that practical in this instance, but hey, it was fun.
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He lets out a snort, before clapping his hands together. "Well done, that."
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Iorveth gives a mocking, flourishing bow, and chucks the rope and pan back to the pile. It was fun while it lasted, and the elf lets out a short chuckle, shrugging. “Perhaps a small pan would be ideal.”
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"Something like an omlette pan? Yes that could be do-able."