fandomhigh | Practical Weaponry [Wednesday, Period Four]

The class was back in the Danger Shop this week, which was set up to resemble a high-class dinner party. Resplendent in a perfectly tailored dinner jacket, Bond was there to greet them.

"There are some situations that a person cannot go into with a weapon," he said, gesturing around the spacious ballroom. "For example, many diplomatic situations, or high-class casinos, or the like, have weapons detectors, and highly trained security staff. However, that does not necessarily mean that you will go in unarmed.

"Apart from any training you may have in unarmed training, you have your wits, and your clothes. In a situation such as this, your choice of clothing can be If you look like you belong, you will be unlikely to attract much notice. If you're working in a team, having your partner wearing a stunning couture dress can distract your enemies at a vital moment." Or leave you distracted at a vital moment, it could backfire sometimes. Not that Bond was going to mention that. "In a pinch, a stiletto heel can be quite a potent weapon indeed."

Bond gestured to an unassuming door. "There is a wardrobe with suitable clothing and footwear through there, and changing stalls," he said. "You will outfit yourselves in a manner befitting this party, and spent the rest of the class mingling and getting information on various party guests, as well as looking out for any fixtures in the room that could be used as weapons. If you have trouble choosing an outfit, I will be happy to help."

Once the students had entered the wardrobe to choose their outfits, they would have noticed that it was filled with stunning couture dresses in every style, fabric, and colour imaginable. After a few more minutes they would have noticed that there wasn't a single suit in sight.

After all, it was unfair to only expect the girls to wear spike heels.

[ooc: ~~wait for~~ ocd up.]

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"You're acting like one with the whole 'omg it's so hard to find a dress that won't make my butt look fat," she smirked.

Oh look, someone threw one of the belts from a dress over the changing room wall.

"Shut up."

"Ew, snakeskin?" Rose made a face. "I hipe that wasn't a serious fashion choice."

"I was trying to hit you in the head," he admitted, not sounding apologetic.

"Don't make me come over there and pick out a dress for you," she threatened.

"Your fashion sense probably stinks," he retorted, sifting through dresses.

Oh, he did not.

Already dressed up, Rose marched around the wall. "Take that back."

"Make me!" Hannibal had nooooo idea what he was messing with.

"Last time we tried this, I kicked your ass," Rose pointed out, her hands on her hips. "It'd be embarrassing for you in the middle of class. You should totally just put on the blue dress."

"You should totally make me," he mocked. "And you kicked nothing."

"Pretty sure you can't hide out here forever," Rose taunted back. "But you might even be able to pad out the chest a little bit in that dress. And it's loose so your butt'll fit."

"You shouldn't be checking me out as thoroughly as you seem to have been," he said. "I've got a girlfriend and all."

"They're called observational skills," Rose shot back. "Maybe you should try it."

Hannibal ~~ignored that he was going crazy and SURELY had heard a guy say that~~ made a face at the wall. "Checking me out."

"Put on the blue dress," she smirked.

"No," he said defiantly.

"You have a party to attend," she said. "How could you not want to go?"

"Why aren't you going?" he asked. "You gotta go too."

"I'm just doing my duty as a teaching assistant," Rose said, twisting the words to mock 'em. "Making sure everyone gets ready."

He gave her a one finger salute that she couldn't see. "Fine. I will be out in a minute. Stop telling me what to wear."

"Giving you my girly opinion," she teased, waiting outside. Mostly because she so wanted to see what he'd ended up putting on.

"I am not coming out if you're standing right there," he said, finally going for something in dark green.

And maybe if she didn't say anything, he wouldn't notice she was out there.

That was the oldest trick in the damn book. No way was Hannibal falling for it. He chucked a heavy, gaudy belt over the door and towards her to see if there'd be a reaction.

"OW."

Dammit.

"God, you have bad taste in belts," Rose bitched.

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