[thoughtful introspection would follow her words, nothing spoken as he lowers his gaze to the floor below him.] i wouldn't know what to name them, [THE WORDS, "THERE'S NOTHING AS SACRED TO ME AS YOUR SAINTS ARE TO YOU" REMAINS UNSPOKEN, but they are thought of nonetheless. he shifts in his seat, legs crossing and uncrossing as he gathered himself up once more.] think i'll leave the whole "naming our weapons" deal to /you/. you're probably better at it, anyway.
right. lucky for you, i'm a very careful man! they call me, "jesper careful fahey". [he smiles when offered the knife, holding it gently. he's not quite sure how to grip it, so he ends up looking like a torchbearer. he holds it up in the light, the weapon glinting dangerously.] first step, remove the bullets. make sure the safety's on. handle's right side, looks kind of like a switch, impossible to miss. then press the button-like thing on the bottom; that'll give you access to the magazine. there are six bullets in there, so make sure to get them all out. i'd hate to get kicked out of our own club because of a stray bullet, it'll ruin my brand! oh, then, [he says this all while twirling the hand with the knife in it. he stumbles more than once, but he continues doing it nonetheless. jesper is, as composed as he may look at first side, a man who fidgets subconsciously, and even now, his habit does not hide itself.] move your hands to the slide. the, uh... lower middle? you'll see two little buttons on both sides, just press both at the same time and push it forward. you still following, love?