M1-M10 Hall, Outside M5, Nightshift 22
It was going to be a busy night. Maes Hughes had no less than three visitors slated for the night - Ed wouldn't take too long to deal with, Alfons he planned to just arm and give a few pointers to, and then.... Roy. Assuming Roy was going to follow through with what he'd said. Who knew
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Just like the previous night, Alfons made his way over to Hughes's room as quickly as he could, almost out of breath even from the short exertion. If only his lungs weren't the way they were...
...but despite that, as soon as he saw the taller man, a grin appeared on the German's face and he trotted over to Maes. It was always a lot better, when he knew that someone was there and wasn't going to be leaving him behind. If Alfons could trust anyone to look out for him, he could trust Maes.
"Maes!" The tone of relief in his voice was just as apparent as his happiness to see the man again.
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"You ready to learn how to throw a knife?" He clapped Alfons on the shoulder, having long since taken a paternal shine to the boy.
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But first, knife-throwing. He just hoped he didn't stab anyone by accident.
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"Don't worry, I'm not gonna try teaching you anything fancy. Just basic throwing and aiming." He opened his closet and rummaged around in the pockets of the coat, pulling out some of the old paring knives he'd taken from the kitchen. He set those on the desk, along with his two alchemically made throwing knives.
"You right handed or left handed?"
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He did have to blink at the throwing knives, noticing how different they looked. But even though it was a serious question, the German couldn't help but smile when he spoke. "Where did you find those? They don't look like something I kept in my kitchen, anyway."
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"These are made for throwing, they're balanced for that, so you'll use these. These?" he picked up the normal knife. "Not really made to be thrown, but I can manage alright with them."
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After that he just waited for Maes's direction, eager to learn and hoping that he'd be a good student for the older man.
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"Okay, lesson one - if someone hands you a knife blade first, express concern that they're doing it that way." He smiled. Alfons really didn't have any experience with weapons at all. Raw material, that was something new.
"Now hold it firmly but gently. You want a good grip, but you don't want to choke it."
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"Ah... all right. I will." A sheepish expression as the knife was shifted into the proper grip, the teenager feeling a little embarrassed that he didn't even think about questioning how it was offered. But he trusted Maes, so it had never been a concern up until the moment it was pointed out.
As for the directions? Alfons nodded and tried to hold the haft as Maes had directed, firm yet gentle. Of course, with how nervous he was feeling, his palms were a little sweaty and his grip was a tad more strong than was optimal... but for a first-time attempt, it wasn't too bad. At least Alfons was a decently fast learner, and had plenty of experience with handling tools.
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"You want your wrist stiff for this. If your wrist isn't stiff, you're not gonna have any control. And control is the important thing. You want to have complete control from when you pick up the blade right up until your release, got it?"
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"Got it," he affirmed, not quite able to hide his smile at learning something new. Even if it was something like this.
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"You want it to go with the blade angling down when you first throw it. Okay, come here and stand here." Maes placed his hands on Alfons's shoulder, positioning him to face the bed. "I want you to aim for the pillow - don't worry about destroying the bed stuff, it'll be fine come morning. Bring your right foot back," Maes used his own foot to nudge Alfons's leg into the right position, "and bend your knees some."
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It was an easy matter to remember how his feet were supposed to be positioned, and also to angle it down a little, and everything else.
The problem was, of course, that he overcorrected, a little. He angled a little too far down, and what was supposed to hit the pillow instead impacted with the bed, hilt-first, and bounced to the floor with a disheartening thud. Practice, practice, practice...
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"Alright. Take it again." This time Maes offered the knife hilt first, and took up position behind Alfons again. "Now lift your arm up like this, chest height, and keep it straight. Alright, now bend your forarm up like this...." Maes pulled back on Alfons's wrist some, to get his arm right. "You want the knife right by your ear. When you throw, I want you to think like... like you're chopping wood with an axe. A nice, firm, smooth stroke. Make sure your knife is pointed right at your target. Now you bring your arm down so it's straight again, and let go real quick. Keep your wrist stiff. Do not stop. Let the knife go while your arm is still moving, okay? Now try again."
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...and it was at about this point that Alfons finally started realizing that he and Maes were... close. Not that there was anything bad or lewd in his mind, just that it was reassuring to have someone there with him, and who felt entirely fine with touch when it was okay to touch.
Unfortunately, those thoughts meant that he only caught the tail end of Maes's explanation. Namely, the 'while your arm is still moving' part.
This time the blade bounced off of the wall, Alfons having put a lot of oomph into it, and the boy flushed just a little at the fact that he was further off the mark than he had been.
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"Don't put so much force behind it this time. You want your arm to move naturally, you don't want to strain it or force the muscles. Here, I'll show you." He took up the other knife and demonstrated, having to remind himself to throw simply. He lifted his arm up, bent at the elbow, and threw the knife in a gentle arc that landed with the blade buried in the pillow.
"See how I did it? Nice and smooth, and I didn't snap my arm to a stop after I let the knife go. That'll kill your joints, let your arm stop naturally. Now you try again."
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