(no subject)
There's a woman sitting somewhere off to the side of the main room; she has a head of gorgeous red hair, is dressed in tight-fitting red clothes, red stilettos -- and is currently surrounded by a mass of weapons. Guns, swords, explosives, anything you can imagine; they're all there and she's taking stock of them, looking quite pleased at some of them but frowning at others in need of a little touching up.
True, having a large unprotected stash of weapons in the Mansion could be a recipe for complete disaster -- but they aren't unprotected. War is as fierce as she looks and more, and anyone who so much as thinks about taking something from her is as good as dead. As she unwraps one of the swords from its bindings, she smirks a little; suggestively, "I bet my sword is bigger than your sword."
Anybody is welcome to compare weapons, ask her about the large pile of weapons, gape at her, or start fights with each other. The latter is especially encouraged.
True, having a large unprotected stash of weapons in the Mansion could be a recipe for complete disaster -- but they aren't unprotected. War is as fierce as she looks and more, and anyone who so much as thinks about taking something from her is as good as dead. As she unwraps one of the swords from its bindings, she smirks a little; suggestively, "I bet my sword is bigger than your sword."
Anybody is welcome to compare weapons, ask her about the large pile of weapons, gape at her, or start fights with each other. The latter is especially encouraged.