That's right - James Bond #23 "SKYFALL" opened last week and it was GREAT! (I've already seen it twice!) I'm not sure if it was "the greatest James Bond film ever" like critics have been saying. It could be the greatest film as a film in the James Bond franchise, but for me "James Bond Film" is in a category of its own. That is to say, I think "Skyfall" was a better movie than "GoldenEye", but "GoldenEye" is still the best James Bond Film. Its simply more "Bond - James Bond".
Anyway - what did you all think?
So I am a big James Bond fan and I was very excited for this film. So excited, in fact, that I drew this pic and commissioned a short series. And I wrote a story that goes along with it. It is adult, so only the family-friendly parts will be posted here. To read the full story you will have to go to my soFurry at: https://etheras.sofurry.com . This image is part 1 of a series of 4 James Bond-themed images! -(PART 1)- -(PART 2)- -(PART 3)- -(PART 4)- And so... on to the story!
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CRASHDOWN ACT I
The agent swore quietly as he held out his phone. No service! How could this be possible in this day and age!? Could his opponent--? No of course not, he was just being paranoid! Behind him the auction was letting out. A smattering of conversation and some raised eyebrows as they admiring guests passed by. He nodded to them. A couple of the girls giggled. They were impressed by his brazen wealth and daring, of course. His had been the largest purchase of the night... by far. A bidding war over a Tsarist armoire. Of course they didn’t know the money wasn’t his - a fact which he might have used to his advantage under other circumstances, but as-of-now time was a commodity he couldn’t waste.
The stallion moved away to the corner, tracing shapes in the air with the smartphone as if he were divining, as he tried to get the signal out. Q-branch makes a mobile that syncs with any mobile network in the world, reads the palmprint of the user, works underwater and can shoot lasers, but can't get decent reception? He'd have to write up a report about this one..
The agent turned the corner and saw the bars jump up to one. He breathed a sigh of relief as the mobile device began to synchronize with the cell tower. He began to type.
"Mister Weaver?" a voice asked from the shadows. He looked up with a grunt just as the flat of a large hooved hand crashed down on the back of his neck. The world went dark.
He came-to with a groan and rubbed his neck where he was struck... an angry bruise rose there protesting the touch. He glanced around, and his wide nostrils flared. This place was different... it wasn't like the dry heat of the land outside. Where was he? Here it was cool and thickly moist, the scent of mildew and still water hanging in the air. It was dark... how long had he been unconscious? Was it night or was he inside a chamber? Weaver decided it must be the latter... above him was too dark. Not even the most overcast sky was this dark. His notion was confirmed as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He could faintly make out the lines of huge ancient sandstone blocks. He stood quietly and brushed down the fronts of his suit pants. They were covered in dust. Everything was covered in dust. Where was he?
He looked around, evaluating his situation; looking for a way out. The room was massive and old - a secret of the ancient world that had never been discovered... at least not officially. He saw he was a few feet away from the edge of huge round pit that looked like a deep earth well. He edged closer to the lip and peered over - deeper into the darkness. Squinting, he couldn't make out anything... but after a moment it began to clear. A few dark shapes against a placid surface of still water... but then. Weaver stepped back with shock as one of them moved! A large and terrible shape, dwarfing even his own large equine frame.
And a powerful spotlight hit him from above like a slap. He looked up, shielding his eyes against the glare. There was a recess up there, and he could faintly make out several pairs of eyes, the glistening moisture of those orbs reflecting some of the light cast by the powerful spotlight. "Who do you work for?" a dispassionate voice boomed, amplified many-fold by hidden PA's echoing around the chamber like the voice of god.
"What? I... I work for Universal Exports London." Weaver said, trying to stick to his cover story, then wincing inwardly as he realized the mistake he made. An employee of Universal Exports wouldn’t be purchasing multi-million-dollar antiques.
"Lies." the voice lashed at him, and he felt the floor lurch. It was dilating, moving back into the wall, widening the opening to the deep earth well and leaving him nowhere to go. This was followed by the sound of excited splashing of whatever horror lie in the depths below. After a moment the floor stopped shifting.
"What is going on!? I demand that you release me!" Weaver shouted, but was shocked that he couldn't keep the tension from his voice. This was very wrong... despite his extensive ‘interrogation-resistance’ training at MI-6, it was no preparation for the real thing! Somehow he knew he was going to die. But if he was going to die... he resolved that his murderers would learn nothing from him.
"Who knows about the armoire?" the voice demanded, and Weaver responded by walking reluctantly to the side of the pit and stepping off into the air. He fell for a good thirty feet before hitting the bottom, which was a soft squishy bog. While the landing hurt it did not incapacitate him. He glanced around quickly to see what his fate was to be, and screamed greedy jaws clamped around his head.
The glints on the ledge watched in fascination. One turned to the others and with a shrug said “Live and Let Die,” before they turned away one-by one.