[He'll be even prettier when he cleans up a little, remembers how to smile, and learns to flirt. Just now, though, he looks how he feels -- like a scruffy shell of a man that Hell swallowed, chewed on a bit, and then spat right back out. As he takes the sword, its close proximity to him only emphasizes that, the gold overly bright right next to the black clothing Kevin favors.
Then it's out of the sheathe and in his hand, and suddenly it doesn't look so awkward anymore. Having a sword in his hand has been natural since he was big enough to hold one, and he's good enough at what he does that he almost makes it look like the sword itself realizes that. Stepping back, he swings it a few times, testing the balance of it. With only those few movements his muscles are burning, but it's not that the sword is too heavy. It's that he's out of shape, healing from his injuries and without a weapon since his arrival.]
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Then it's out of the sheathe and in his hand, and suddenly it doesn't look so awkward anymore. Having a sword in his hand has been natural since he was big enough to hold one, and he's good enough at what he does that he almost makes it look like the sword itself realizes that. Stepping back, he swings it a few times, testing the balance of it. With only those few movements his muscles are burning, but it's not that the sword is too heavy. It's that he's out of shape, healing from his injuries and without a weapon since his arrival.]
Ah...it's good. The balance is good.