Scribble scribble

Ian, look at me. — Mick. Pause.

2) any vegetable is better than no vegetable

maybe Bond somehow, by the skin of his teeth, manages to qualify for some big international competition (we're doing handwaving sports au gubbins) either someone else drops out or has an injury. Bond's own injury is... well... let's just say man is haggard. While he's preparing he's like to Q "How come you're not competing?" and Q's like "Oh I don't compete internationally, too much hassle and I've got nothing to prove." *stares pointedly at bond*

Anyway Mansfield sends him off with Moneypenny because she's got more promising (younger) athletes to coach herself and she thinks it'll be good experience for Eve. Bond is happy enough with her but mentions that he doesn't understand why someone as good as Q wouldn't be coming (absolutely not pining). Eve laughs and rolls her eyes "It's because he's afraid of flying! He absolutely does compete internationally and is extremely competitive about it. He simply insists on only signing up to competitions he can reach by train. I've taken the eurostar with him once — to Switzerland — it was quite nice actually." (real q humans aren't supposed to be that high up in the air!!)

Anyway they land in Macau and Bond is getting on quite well, he does well in his pooles (and breaks a blade, which he knows Q is going to give him an earful about when he gets back. Maybe he cheekily texts him a picture and gets left on read) not quite enough to get a bye into the later stages of the direct elimination. His shoulder's giving him a bit of bother but he's James Bond so he ignores it and plows on. In the Semis he's up against a guy called Silva and when they're kitting up and testing weapons he's weirdly friendly in a slightly unnerving way, Bond doesn't recognise him, but he also doesn't think anything of it, even though it's been a while he's still quite well known. Probably they've competed against each other before. When the fight starts it becomes abundantly clear that they have definitely fought before. He seems to know all of Bond's tricks and strategies. He wins, rather embarrassingly for Bond, and when he goes for the handshake he grips Bond's hand very tightly and whispers something like "Mummy will be so disappointed."

In the changing room after it plays out very similarly to meeting scene in Skyfall. Bond finally recognises "Raoul Silva" as the man he knew as "Tiago Rodrigues" from his fencing club, though when Bond knew him he also had a facial difference (maybe that's why he took up fencing in the first place, less judgement under the mask). He was M's favourite before Bond, the golden boy, set to do great things for team GB. But he'd gotten an injury and Bond had been picked for the team over him, giving him his big break and all his later success.

Bond thinks Silva's holding a grudge against him specifically for this, but not so. Turns out the injury that had put him out had been due to extreme overtraining which he blames on M working him too hard and pulling him under her influence to the point where he would do anything to please her (maybe there's even the suggestion that there was some highly unethical coach-athlete relationship going on). And he perceives that she abandoned him, and it nearly cost him his whole career. But he did recover, and when he did he changed his name to use his middle and mother's names, and paid a lot of money for more intense facial reconstructive surgery to stop people from connecting him to M and crediting her training with his wins. He sees Bond as also having been brought low by M's harsh methods, suggesting that though Moneypenny caused his injury it was M who inspired them to go so hard in a training bout. (homoerotic injury touching is occurring while he says this) Maybe when Bond says he doesn't see it that way, it's just bad luck, Silva kind of goes for if you won't join me I can hurt M by breaking Bond by doing a little of what she did to me.

Bond drops the "What makes you think it's my first time?" line but is sort of shitting himself inside because this is actually so messed up he's just an old washed up former olympian working nights as a bouncer or something and this guy is clearly right off his rocker about something that happened 20 years ago. Anyway they are still just in the changing rooms of this big competition so someone walks in on them and Silva backs off, for now. (I would then give Bond a bi crisis but that's just for me. as a treat.)

I have no idea how this would resolve itself, he's out to destroy M's name and legacy, but it's not like he can shoot her and burn down the club ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ but I don't need an answer because... I'm not actually writing the fic!!!

Now he's back in brand new shiny white kit but still looking haggard (he sold all his stuff when he was in mardy about the whole thing and quit) He's having a complex about moving into the veteran's (over 40s) category. Everyone else at the club is in awe of him bc he's a former world champion and Olympic medallist. But that was a long time ago.

There is, however, one person who is absolutely not impressed by his whole shtick, a young upstart épéeist who he's told is new to the club, but seems to be very promising. His quite dismissive when Bond introduces himself so Bond immediately asks him for the first bout. He's a leftie – always something to be wary of – but Bond's not worried. The chap's en garde position is horribly awkward, stiff, slightly hunched. Bond gets an easy first hit to elbow, something like that. 1 - nil. The second hit is more difficult. The bloke does know his distance. Bond pushes him back and hits with a reprise. 2 - nil. Third hit also easy, right in the mask, 3 - nil. Bond grins, he's still got it. Now he's confident he lands and extravagant flick, much to the delight of the small crowd of gathering onlookers. M just rolls her eyes. 4 - nil.

When Q next comes en guard Bond notices something different about him, his postures still awkward, Bond can't put his finger on what it is. He doesn't have to wait long to find out, he lunges but Q gets him with a stop hit to arm. He doesn't even register the second hit at first, one second he's fine the next second the lights are on and the box is beeping. He'd been hit neatly and efficiently right on the joint of his ring finger where it must be just visible below his guard. The next hit lands exactly the same, and the next. He frowns. 4 - 4.

It's not wholly one sided, Bond gets more wary, especially of his hand, but then Q switches it up and gets him three times in the leg. They get twitchy, keeping their distance and toying with each other while the clock runs down. Eventually Q wins out. It's close, but not that close: 12 - 15 and nearly the full 9 minutes gone.

Everyone is fucking horrified and thinks Bond's going to blow a gasket (he's got a history of being a sore loser) but when he takes off his mask and goes for the handshake he's smirking. Q makes a quip and points out the flaws in his technique. Bond listens quietly and smiles. Don't get it twisted he's NOT happy about losing but he has the bit between his teeth now. A new challenge for him to sink his teeth into. Over the weeks and months they fall into this back and forth, Bond starts winning but only rarely, and at some point Bond's like.... hmmm I'm interested

Bond is a sabre and épéeist, Q is a pure épéeist (focus on one thing, no faffing about). Q's handy with electrics and a screwdriver and is always finding some tiny thing to adjust and fiddle with his own weapon.

Bond is rough on his equipment so when he notices this he immediately starts bothering Q to fix everything. "It's not difficult, you'd be perfectly capable of doing it yourself." "I know I just like seeing you work with your hands." "If you've broken another blade I will run you through with it." "No you cannot borrow mine, I know you won't give it back!" "Does that sound like something I'd do?" "Yes! You've done it no less than FOUR TIMES!!".

Bond is a french grip purist, but Q insists on getting him a more ergonomic handle to help compensate for his shoulder injury, and maybe a super bendy blade bc bond loves to flick hit (he's a show off and an arse).

for @tsuga-of-mars' prompt, mush, for this week's @galladrabbles. forgive me, the word isn't exactly spelled right here XD ik nobody wants to think abt it but this is prob set during their quarantine

Mickey retches into the bowl that Ian's holding. "Fuck! This bush tastes like dogshit."

Ian sighs and rests the back of his hand on Mickey's forehead for dramatics. "Well, healthy food almost never tastes good. Alright, alright, I'll go buy some medicine. Stay here."

Mickey rolls his eyes. "Dowhere else to be."

He stands up. Right after he puts on a mask, Mickey wraps his arms around his neck and kisses him.

"What was that for?"

Mickey can see Ian's cheeks grow even behind the mask. "Just go, dubass."

Ian and Mickey's hands.

An internal monologue being defined here as "the voice in your head that your thoughts are thought in." And for the multilingual internal monologue havers - which language do the thoughts appear in?

Ok this one is a bit angsty for me but It is a hug to everyone who sees and tries to understand and protect their mental health.

Ian glanced out the window, watching the sky darken as thunder gathered on the horizon. “Mania builds the same way,” he said, very carefully.

Mickey walked toward Ian, sensing the shift. “It starts as a rumble you think you can ignore, then it grows, pressure stacking until your world explodes.

Lightning split the sky, and Ian shrank, not from fear, but recognition. “People think it’s energy,” he mused . “But it’s pressure. It’s drowning upward.” A large boom followed, loud and merciless. Ian exhaled. “Hard to outrun.”