today👏is👏the👏ides of march❗️❗️❗️📆😜 Julius Caesar 💬might💬 have gotten💘the knife😩 but I'm ❌NOT❌🙅 going to stab🔪🔪YOU in the back👌🙏 because you're my 👬HOMIE! send this to 1⃣5⃣ Rulers 👑of Greece that you 🚫won't🚫 stab in the back 🔪🔪 ET TU BROTE?? 🙊
I just want you to know that your voltron shitposts are a gift to our species
honestly?? where’s my nobel prize
shiro: “I need an adult” pidge: “…you… are an adult?” shiro: “yes but I need a better one”
hunk’s hairstyle is definitely inspired by young han solo
*paladin sneezes* allura and coran, horrified: “what the fuck was that”
pidge is too short for her head to be a good armrest for anyone, but does that stop lance from trying?? no
allura is the living embodiment of bringing a gun to a knife fight
sometimes lance will go to the training deck while keith is training for the express purpose of making lightsaber noises whenever keith swings his sword to piss him off
coran is scandalized by hunk and pidge’s lab etiquette
pidge’s approach to science is “safety goggles are for squares” and hunk’s is “eyeballing it is a valid method of measurement right”
i mean pidge is 14 and hunk is an engineering student what was he expecting
he gets hunk a god damn ruler for his birthday
lance: “- so the most important thing is that we get in and out without being seen at all. any ideas?” keith: “okay, so what I’m thinking is that i’ll bust into the main chamber and go for zarkon-” lance: “alright, I’m gonna explain again, and you’re gonna tell me where I lost you”
Is dual wielding (like two swords, a sword and a knife or two knives) an actual effectiv fighting style or just something that looks cool??
With two swords, not really. There’s a few stray examples. It’s not so much ineffective as incredibly difficult. With that in mind, you can absolutely learn how to do this as an exhibition technique. Which, yes, ends up in the range of something that looks cool.
A sword and an off hand dagger has a lot of utility. The off hand dagger actually becomes a defensive tool.This can range from something like a stiletto, used to deflect an incoming strike, or it can include a swordbreaker, which depending on circumstances might simply hold your opponent’s blade in place while you turn them into goulash with your sword.
It’s probably worth remembering that the parrying dagger is more common when dealing with lighter blades, while sword breakers were more common when dealing with heavier, slower, blades.
Dual daggers are a legitimate, hyper-aggressive, knife fighting option. You’re trading any kind of defense for more opportunities to attack. When the user has the element of surprise it can make a bad situation so much worse, but if their foe can respond, it can go wrong for the dual wielder very quickly.
If you’re wondering how a knife can go from being a defensive tool to an offense option, it has to do with the ranges you’re engaging at. Incidentally, a swordsman with an off hand dagger does have the option to attack at extremely close ranges where they can’t attack with their sword.
I know we’ve said this before, but weapons have specific ranges. Get too close, and you can’t use them anymore. A sword works best at a little over arm’s length. For example: A sword won’t do much good
while you’re lying on top of your foe. On the other hand, if you can reach out and touch someone, knives are always good to go. The advantage for a sword is it will add 36-40 inches to your reach.
It’s also worth remembering that a sword with an off-hand pistol was a real option up into the 19th century. You’d open an encounter by putting a bullet in someone, and then use the sword.
Summary: You’re a doctor for the avengers and when Bucky comes in with a hunk of metal in his side you find that it’s not his injury that’s making you sweat.
Warnings: Description of wounds/blood, Bucky being shameless
Note: I’m overwhelmed by the feedback I got on my last fic! You guys are great! So for my second fic I though I’d try out Bucky, again I’d love any constructive comments/criticism.
“Incoming! Incoming!” Odette, the surgical tech assigned to you rushes into the room.
“How many?” you ask, looking up from the table where you’ve laid out your tools.The tech flushes. You sigh. “What type of injuries?”
“Uh-hm..” the tech stutters. You turn around so you can hide your eye roll. “Dr.Cho’s been called in..” Odette says.
“Thank you, Odette” You say and head to the sink to scrub your hands again. You are a top scientist working for Fury, and besides having your degree in engineering you’re an MD who specializes in general surgery. So whenever the reinstated avengers go on mission you’re put on call, which basically consists of you waiting in the med bay in case anyone needs to be treated. Usually the injuries are minor, the team are unparalleled in what they do, and you just end up patching up deep scrapes or bullet grazes. Because of this and the fact you have daily work at the Avenger’s compound you’ve become very friendly with the team.
Your palms start to sweat. Today’s mission was supposed to be high risk and it’s a bad sign that Helen’s been called in. With you and one other doctor on call her and her technology are only called in for severe injuries. The door opens and a battered looking Steve supporting an even more battered looking Bucky walks in. Steve helps Bucky sit on the examination table.
“Any more injured?” You ask, pulling on gloves.
“Scrapes all around, except for Sam. He’s badly burned.” Steve blows air out of his mouth. You look at him, his brow is creased in worry.
“How badly?” You look at Bucky, he has a chunk of what seems to be jagged metal in his side, about two inches thick, protruding several inches from his gear. It seems to be a simple extraction job.
“Badly. But Park’s seeing to him” Samuel Park is the other doctor in the compound “Dr.Cho’s supposed to put him in the new Cradle.I hope she gets here soon.”
You walk to the table and pick up scissors and a knife. “Odette, You should go assist Dr.Park.” the tech nods, and scurries out the door. Steve goes to follow but looks back at Bucky.
“He’ll be fine, go,” You say, and with that Steve leaves.
You look at Bucky. His eyes are already trained on you. It reminds you of the time Steve came in for stitches. His forearm had been split open. Bucky leaned against the wall in the corner of the room, he remained silent but his eyes followed your every move. Even when you looked at him he didn’t break his gaze. You assumed he was just being protective over his best friend. Bucky hasn’t said more than two words to you in the time that you’ve known him. Even after he started opening up and joking around with the team he remained oddly silent around you. You assumed you annoyed him. He had no problem talking with the others and even flirting with the research techs.
You step up to him and start cutting away his gear. ‘Oops probably should have asked before I started cutting off his clothes’.Heat flushes down your neck and you stop your actions.
“Sorry, do you mind if I cut away your gear?”
“ ‘S fine” he says, voice low. You look up and you swear there’s a hint of smile on his face. You nod and continue. He smells of something metallic mixed with blood and sweat and a hint of….cologne…? As you cut away more of his gear you catch more of it. You try not to think about it. He’s handsome, the type of handsome that makes people do a double take. You try to ignore the broadness of his shoulders as his gear falls away, leaving him in a damp wife-beater.
“Ain’t even the first date and you’re already tryna get me outta my clothes.” He rasps, startling you. You stutter and stammer, before deciding not to respond.
“Okay,” you say, taking a breath. “I’m just going to take a look at this” You step in between his legs and inspect the metal shard. It looks worse than what you first thought it was. The shard is about the size of your hand and sticks out right below his rib cage, there’s a possibility that it might have hit some organs. There’s no exit point. Your heart rate goes up. Can a super soldier die if his major organs fail before his body can repair them?
You wheel over your table of tools. You wish you hadn’t sent away Odette.
“Can you lay down for me?,” You ask.
“Of course sugar.” He says, piercing you with his stare.
You take a deep breath, feeling flustered. Did this man want to die on the operating table?
You cut away his undershirt and prepare some local anesthesia.
“I’m going to try to numb the area, but I don’t know how well this will work. I’m sorry I don’t have anything else on hand.” You don’t even know if anesthesia would work on him.
“ ‘S alright, darling I’ve been through worse,” He says giving you a small smile. You feel your face fall as you think about how true his statement is. You numb him and take a deep breath.You move to start extracting the shard when his hand shoots out and grabs yours. You stop yourself from jumping.
“You know there is something that would make me feel better.” Bucky says, voice gravelly.
“Of course, what is it?” You place your tools back on the table. ‘Maybe a special painkiller?’ you think.
“A kiss,”Bucky’s face stretches into a wide smirk.
You splutter “James…!”
“Bucky.” he supplies, smirk not leaving his face.
“Bucky….I uh….I don’t think that would be necessary for minimizing your pain.”
“Oh I beg to differ darlin’“ He says.
You clear your throat and start to grab your tools again. Bucky says your name, pleadingly.
“Come on, ya really gonna deny a dyin’ man his final wish.” You roll your eyes at his dramatic tone. You fix him with your gaze.
“You’re not gonna die Bucky.”
“Here I am,bleeding out on your table, and all I’m askin’ for is one little kiss. Just one little kiss, from the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He looks at you from the corner of his eye “….before she slices me open.”
You sigh. One thing you know about Bucky Barnes is that he’s stubborn as a bull. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you lean over and press a kiss to his cheek, his stubble prickling you in a not unpleasant way.
For a moment Bucky just looks at you, it seems like he’s crawling underneath your skin with that stare. Then he groans “Really sugar? Ya gonna try and cheat a man with a chunk of metal in his side?”
“I-I, uh” You stammer
“You really are heartless.” He sighs dramatically, closing his eyes.
You war with yourself for a split second, before leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to his lips. As you start to pull away Bucky’s hand comes up and stops you, and he deepens the kiss. His lips are surprisingly soft, his stubble scratches your face deliciously. Remembering the fact that he has a piece of metal in his side, you slowly withdraw. Bucky tugs on your lip with his teeth as you do so, which makes you have to turn around in order to regain your composure. When you turn back around, Bucky’s face is split in an ear to ear grin.
“Alright beautiful, cut me open, I can now die a happy man.”
You swallow, “Shut up James,” you snap, hating how your voice shakes. You pick up your tools and start to remove the metal. It comes out surprisingly smoothly, except for the last few inches. As you pull them free, Bucky starts to bleed. Way too much. The end of the shard is jagged. You try to contain the blood. But there’s just so much, you call for assistance and try to repair the damage.
By the time you finish you’re covered in blood. “Bucky, Bucky can you hear me?” You say, stepping close and touching his face, he looks drawn, pale.
“His pulse is faint. But it’s there.” Odette says. You jump, you forgot she had come in.
“Alright,” you sigh, blowing hair back from your forehead. “Guess we’ll wait.”
Bucky’s moved to a different hospital bed in another one of the rooms, and fitted with IVs. Steve understandably freaks out, with two close friends gravely injured within 24 hours it’s no wonder. Sam’s healed now, resting. You tell Steve to do the same and sit in a chair in Bucky’s room. The others wander in and out of the room.You know with his regenerative properties he’ll recover, but when six hours pass you can’t help but worry. ‘Why hasn’t he woken up by now?’ .
You blink your eyes open as a sliver of sunlight passes across your face. You squint, looking at the clock on the wall: 7 am. Damn. You finished patching Bucky up at about 4 pm last night. You had fallen asleep in his room. ‘I’m terrible at keeping watch’ you scold yourself. ‘What if he had worsened during the night?’ You look over at Bucky, only to find him watching you. You jump.
“Man you need to stop doing that.” Your voice is thick with sleep. You lick your dry lips, feeling self conscious. Standing you hear your joints cracking as you walk over.
“How can I help it when you’re always lookin’ so gorgeous?” He smirks.
“Shut up,” You say, pulling back the covers and inspecting his wound. It looks nearly healed. “How do you feel?” you murmur.
“Alright,” He says wincing slightly as you put pressure on his wound. He sits up, and you try to ignore the way the muscles in his chest and stomach flex. “I’d feel better if you’d let me buy you dinner, though” He looks up at you through his lashes. You click your tongue.
“You really are shameless,”
“Come on, it’s the least I can do after bleedin’ all over ya.” You look down at yourself, your scrubs are crusted in dried blood. You start replacing the dressing on his wound.
“You say that to all the girls who stitch you up?” You quip, avoiding his gaze.
“Nope. But then again I don’t spend six months building up the courage to ask those girls out either.” You look at him for a long while,saying nothing, and notice how red starts to tinge his ears and creep up his neck.
“Alright,” You answer finally giving him a smirk of your own.
Bucky lets out a huge breath, and chuckles “Damn sugar, you really know how to make a man sweat, don’t ya?”
An Oxford University student who stabbed her boyfriend with a bread knife may not go to jail because it could damage her prospects of a medical career, a court has heard.
Aspiring heart surgeon Lavinia Woodward, 24, punched and stabbed her boyfriend during an alcohol-and-drug-fuelled row at Christ Church College. She admitted unlawfully wounding the Cambridge University student, who she met on the dating app Tinder.
Judge Ian Pringle QC, sitting at Oxford crown court, said he would take an “exceptional” course and defer sentence for four months, hinting that Woodward will not be jailed because of her talent. “It seems to me that if this was a one-off, a complete one-off, to prevent this extraordinary able young lady from not following her long-held desire to enter the profession she wishes to would be a sentence which would be too severe,” he said.
“What you did will never, I know, leave you, but it was pretty awful, and normally it would attract a custodial sentence, whether it is immediate or suspended,” he said.
Woodward, who lives in Milan, Italy, with her mother, stabbed her then-boyfriend in the leg after punching him in the face. She then hurled a laptop, glass and jam jar at him during the attack on 30 September last year, the court heard. She was in court to hear the judge’s comments.
The court was told that Christ Church would allow her to return in October because she “is that bright” and has had articles published in medical journals.
Mitigating, James Sturman QC said his client’s dreams of becoming a surgeon were “almost impossible” as her conviction would have to be disclosed. She had had a very troubled life and was abused by a previous boyfriend, he said.
➳ Warnings:Violence, shooting, mentions of dead bodies, cursing/swearing, etc.
➳Word count: 2251
↠ Request: Hello! I would like to request a scenario! Instead of writing blah, blah, blah I will make it easy to read: 1. Yoongi (with Agust D personality - you know, a bad, sassy, rude boy) 2. A mix of genres, whatever you feel inspired for but please - not 100% fluffy. 3. Triggers are alright, they make the plot even more interesting! If that’s okay with YOU ofc. 4. The AU totally depends on you! I thought about something like poor producer AU, drug dealer but I’m up to anything! 5. THANKS
↠ A/N: I’m finally back after the hiatus! Please leave me feedback as always, I hope this came out okay? I’m not sure, but feedback is much appreciated! ↞
Your arms slung loosely around his slender shoulders, your lips gently pressed to his neck as you chuckled softly with a mischievous tone, and Yoongi couldn’t help his mouth from curling up ever so slightly, a hint of a smile dancing on his lips.
“Aish, Y/N, stop making me so soft,” he complained half heartedly, swatting your hands away as he leaned forward on his desk, his fingers intertwining, clasping his palms together on the hard surface. His phone buzzed repeatedly against the desk, and he sighed, hooking his finger onto the object and flinging it closer to him.
“What, is our big bad gang leader going all soft and gooey for me, hm?” You teased him, wanting to see how long you could keep this up, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips with the knowledge that only you could make him this soft.
Yoongi wasn’t the soft type. His own gang members held a certain fearful respect for him, their heads ducking in a nervous nod under his piercing, cold gaze whenever he strode past any of them, his pistol always swinging around his finger threateningly. They had all witnessed his incredibly short temper, how he would easily flip the trigger on anyone who insisted on pushing his buttons too far. His wrath was particularly evident when a rival gang made a puny, futile attempt to threaten him, or back out on a deal, it was safe to say they’d be seeing nothing but darkness from that moment onwards, their bodies lay limp and decorated with wounds. His work was known clearly from his signature mark, three shots; a shot in the head, in the mouth, and straight in the heart, the chilling preciseness of the wounds instilling fear in anyone who saw the cold, emotionless, steel look clouding over his eyes, as he’d cock his head to the side with a small smirk, observing his work.
For someone who seemed so emotionless and sociopathic, his stone heart held a lot of love for you, no matter how much he tried to hide it in front of others. You were strong, skilled, a valuable asset to the gang as well as his beloved, the one person who could soften his stone hard heart, who could melt away the cold glint in his eyes, replacing it with a warmth barely seen by anyone. He couldn’t help but let his mouth curl up onto a smile every time he watched you walk past confidently, hair bouncing effortlessly, your eyes always sparkling with an inquisitive, curious look. You could be just as ruthless as him when needed, the sparkle in your eyes glazing over and becoming steely, much like Yoongi. There was a reason why no-one had attempted to use you as a threat towards him; not only would you have found a way to murder them where they stood, Yoongi’s full wrath would truly be enticed out of him, leaving no-one standing, their bodies hanging as an example for anyone who tried such a stunt again.
That day, you left Yoongi reclined in his office to make some phone calls, waving at Jungkook and Jimin as you walked past, two of Yoongi’s most skilled hitmen. You confidently strode through the halls, spinning your favourite dagger in your hands, and eventually slipping out through the front doors of the huge manor house, making your way towards the safe house in the back. Peering around the place, you suddenly felt a prickling feeling on the nape of your neck. Something wasn’t right. You stopped in your tracks, cocking your head to the side as you analysed your surroundings, your posture defensive, dagger gripped tightly in your hand.
“If there’s someone there, you might as well come out now, does it look like I have all fucking day to play with you? Whoever ‘you’ is?” You spoke out, tapping your foot impatiently as you continued to observe your surroundings, listening intently for any noise.
“Well, I guess you caught me out, huh?” Jackson, a member of a growing rival gang, stepped out from behind you, chuckling darkly with a raspy tone. “I always knew I could never sneak up on you, too quick for me.” He tapped his nose with a wry smile, his eyes inquisitive as he looked you up and down, tutting at the glare in your eyes. He spun guns in both hands, tilting his head at you in a deceiving puppy-like way.
“What the fuck do you want? Get it over and done with, you piece of shit,” you spat at him, clearly aggravated by this trespass onto Yoongi’s premises. “It’s either, you get out now, or this knife is going straight in your heart, you’re testing my patience right now.”
Jackson simply chuckled at your words, one eyebrow raising in a perfect arch. “Too bad, wouldn’t want to hurt Yoongi’s girl, hm?”
You were so preoccupied with glaring Jackson down, you didn’t notice Jaebum soundlessly and stealthily approaching behind you, until you felt a strong hand clamping over your mouth, his other arm wrapping around your waist in an attempt to restrain you. You felt a fire quickly burning up in your chest, and you skillfully spun the dagger in your hand, stabbing back into Jaebum’s side, causing him to double over and release his grasp on you. You threw the dagger like a dart right at Jackson, aiming for his heart without second thought, but he was quick to dart out of the way, just about, his gaze now furious as he clenched his sharp jaw.
You were about to sprint back to the manor house, if another of their members hadn’t pressed a cloth to your mouth, the dizzying scent leaving your eyes fluttering shut, your body weakening and dropping like a stone onto the hard ground, your limbs crumpling uselessly as you lay in an awkward position, passed out.
Jackson gestured towards your unconscious body, the other men quick to scoop you up, carrying you away from the scene before someone caught on what was happening.
“Little shit,” Jaebum cursed, pressing his hand to the wound, and wincing at the murky, sticky red liquid dripping from his fingers. “She knows how to use that knife, why is it always me who has to restrain them, while you just stand there having the fucking time of your life watching?” He glared at Jackson, quick to follow the other men sneaking off.
“Stop complaining, just get Youngjae to patch you up when we get back.” Jackson rolled his eyes in retaliation, strolling off in the same direction, but not before peering back at the manor house with a devilish smirk tugging at his lips. “Let’s just see how long it takes lover boy over here to realise we have his girl.”
Yoongi’s hands shook violently, his eyes obsidian with how much they had darkened, flames seemingly flickering and licking up in his gaze, his stare piercing right into Namjoon’s soul as he stood there, shifting from side to side.
Namjoon sighed, pushing his plum coloured hair back with his slender fingers, his own gaze finally returning to rest back on Yoongi’s smouldering gaze, watching him clench and unclench his jaw in complete fury.
“Say that again… I dare you,” Yoongi threatened, his voice laced with a terrifying tone that was only ever heard in moments like this, when those he loved were threatened. When you were threatened. He swore he was going to kill those sons of -
“I said, Y/N is missing, she’s nowhere to be found, not answering any calls or texts, and we found this in front of the safe house…” Namjoon slid the small white card across the table, Yoongi slowly picking it up and spinning it in his hands, crushing it in his fist in realisation.
It was a simple white card, a single black hexagon in the centre, circling the number ‘7’. Yoongi’s fist shook harder, as he grasped the crumpled card in his hands, wishing death on all those who had just crossed him.
“Those fucking… they’re going to fucking pay, believe me,” Yoongi spoke coldly again, his gaze fixated on the desk, cogs whirring in his head as he contemplated how to get you back safely, into his arms, into the manor house where he’d make sure no-one could ever dare to hurt you again.
“Taehyung managed to track the bug he planted in her vest, he thinks he has her location… of course, it’s not going to be easy to get her back, they probably have the place highly secured, security guards watching any possible entrance to the place…” Namjoon assessed all the possible layouts of your whereabouts, only to be interrupted out of his thoughts by the sound of a fist slamming into the table.
“Whatever it takes,” Yoongi breathed heavily in anger, furrowing his eyebrows in frustration, slowly rising from his seat. “We save her, and teach those motherfuckers a lesson, got it?”
Namjoon simply nodded, pulling out his phone. “I’ll inform the others, gather a team, we won’t let them get away with it.” He smiled warmly in reassurance, dimples indented into his face as he left the room, leaving Yoongi tossing a book at the wall with a frustrated sigh.
“You fucking shitheads.”
You breathed heavily, your chest quickly rising and falling as you sat restrained in a rusty chair, the room dark apart from a dim light in the centre, shadows seemingly crawling across the walls as several pairs of eyes fixated on you. You hadn’t stopped cursing them out since they - with great difficulty - tied you to that chair, your eyes shooting daggers at them since then.
“Hyung, she’s so annoying, can we just let her go?” Bambam complained, earning a hit on the back of the head from Jaebum, much to his protests.
“Are you stupid? She’s our key to finally overtaking Yoongi’s gang, and taking all their shit,” Jackson leaned forward, a rather cheerful smile on his face considering the fact he was holding you hostage.
“You really think that’s going to happen?” You leaned forward in your seat, scoffing at the thought. Your mind had been racing with plans to get out of there, weighing your chances of escaping, and analysing the situation as you had been trained to do. While you kept them distracted with small talk, your hand was reaching as best as it could to pull out the spare dagger you always carried in your back pocket, smirking at their carelessness. Your hands were tied behind your back, allowing your body to shield what you were attempting to do, your hand finally clasping onto the cold blade. You began to hack at the duct tape keeping your hands together, the rest of your body remaining convincingly still, as you continued to talk at them.
“You think you can take over Yoongi’s gang that easily? You lot really are clueless as hell, huh?” You shook your head at them, your hands now free and working at the rope tied around you. You would’ve managed to free yourself, had the door not burst open, Yoongi standing there, leaning on the frame, one eyebrow cocked in curiosity. He was accompanied by his main men, along with some others, and you peered behind him at the carnage of bodies scattered in the hallway.
“So,” Yoongi nonchalantly swung his gun around his finger, his eyebrow still raised at their surprised faces. “You thought you could just kidnap my girlfriend and think I wouldn’t find her? Fucking idiots.” He yawned casually, stretching his arms out and pointing his gun right at Jackson. “Okay, I’m bored with you all.”
The first shot rang through the air, grazing Jackson’s arm as he dodged out of the way, and chaos soon ensued as Yoongi’s men and Jackson’s men began to shoot violently at each other, knives flying through the air, and bullets speeding. You managed to free yourself in all the mess, jumping up and kicking Jackson right in the crotch with your boots, causing him to collapse in pain.
Shots continued to fire through the air, Jaebum pressing his hand to a wound for the second time that day, except this time it was located right above his heart, his eyes rolling back into his head as his body collapsed, lying limp on the floor. Jackson cursed at the sight, clutching his own wounded arm as he tried to fire everyone down, and yet he stood almost alone, all his members either dead or too injured to fight.
“Give it up,” Yoongi pointed the gun at his head once again, tilting his head and cocking his eyebrow at him. “You won’t last a fucking day without the rest of your gang.” You helped up some of your own injured members during the exchange, helping to usher them out and glancing back at Yoongi.
Jackson glared at him, coughing up blood and groaning in pain as he clutched his arm, stumbling from the pain. He glanced around at the carnage around him, sighing as he realised he’d have to admit defeat.
“Let this be a warning to you, you fucking touch any of my gang again, and I’ll make sure you’re not standing either.” And with that, Yoongi walked out with you in tow, ducking expectantly as Jackson attempted to fire at his head, Yoongi spinning around and shooting his other arm too.
Context: My players thought they were spying on the mayor of a town at a party, when they unknowingly got duped into a murder mystery after he got stabbed to death. One of my players, a Paladin who really doesn’t act like one, has a knack for cutting people’s faces off and giving them to other people as gifts.
He also, upon finding the body, failed his perception check so badly he believed the mayor was still alive. This led him to propping him up in a chair Weekend at Bernie's style.
Paladin (OOC): I go upstairs to investigate the body. DM: Alright. He’s still sitting in the chair you propped him up in with the sheet draped over him. Paladin: I draw my knife and go to cut his face off. Rest of the party: NO! Warlock (OOC): I run upstairs to remind him to not act like a murderer! Paladin: I hover the knife close to his face…then slowly put it away.