[ Truth be told, Shang-chi isn't especially a fan of weapons either. Or combat. Or inciting violence on anyone else. And for ten years since he'd moved to America, he'd kept those ... particular talents hidden; hell, he'd kept everything about himself hidden. These days, he'd been forced to bring those skills to the forefront but he's feeling a little better about what they mean.
So, in an effort to keep himself in shape, especially before this first mission, it's his intention to do a little training, resharpen those skills he'd long since buried. The last thing he expects when he calmly passes the threshold into the training room is a sharp metal object being flung directly at him. ]
Shit! Shit, sorry β sorry, I didn't know anyone else was using the room.
[ He lifts his hands up in surrender, watches the screwdriver clatter off somewhere and thankfully not through his skull. ]
3.0 β my b;
So, in an effort to keep himself in shape, especially before this first mission, it's his intention to do a little training, resharpen those skills he'd long since buried. The last thing he expects when he calmly passes the threshold into the training room is a sharp metal object being flung directly at him. ]
Shit! Shit, sorry β sorry, I didn't know anyone else was using the room.
[ He lifts his hands up in surrender, watches the screwdriver clatter off somewhere and thankfully not through his skull. ]
How are you doing that?