damned_institute | M1-M10 Hall, Outside M5, Nightshift 22

"Ed made these for me," Hughes said, picking up one of his knives. "I had three, but Elena's still got one - and Ed said he'd make me some more. I like having a good number on me." He flipped the knife and handed it, blade first, to Alfons.

"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."

"Ah, I knew that his alchemy was useful here, but I didn't know it was quite that good." There was quite a bit of trepidation as the teenager took the knife blade-first, very obviously concerned about getting nicked on the sharp edge. "He always was worried about quality, though, so I can see his handiwork... even if I can't say I've ever seen his alchemy before."

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.

"Alchemy is damn useful here," Maes agreed. "And Ed's quality is very good. So's Roy's, but Roy's better at using his to fight here." He sat down on the bed and reached for Alfons' hand, gently turning the knife in it.

"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."

Somehow, the teenager was surprised that Ed didn't use his alchemy to fight; considering that the teenager was so flamboyant and filled with anger, the only possible explanation would be that Edward was too busy punching to think about using something more scientific.

"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.

"Here, put your fingers like so." Maes shifted Alfons's fingers, placing them to hold the knife in a position which would allow for easy release. "You want your thumb here. This is the hammer-grip, it's slower than what I do, but it won't put much stress on your arm." He moved his fingers to Alfons wrist.

"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?"

Alfons nodded as he let Maes adjust his grip, trying to remember how it felt to have his fingers that way. He was going to remember that he needed to control the knife, and to keep his wrist stiff, and everything else that he needed to do to make it work.

"Got it," he affirmed, not quite able to hide his smile at learning something new. Even if it was something like this.

"Okay, now when you throw it, the knife is going to kind of spin in the air - it's supposed to do that, it doesn't just go in a straight line without moving." It had been a long time since Maes taught anyone how to throw a knife. But in a way, he was enjoying this. It was only the basics, but he was taking a certain pride in passing on his knowledge.

"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."

"All right..." Alfons again didn't seem to find anything odd with those hands on his shoulders, nor with Maes nudging his feet into position and standing behind him. It was just a quick way to learn how it was supposed to work, and when time was limited, something like this would be fine.

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...

"Okay, okay." Maes nodded and retrieved the knife. "Considering I haven't even shown you how to hold your arm, that wasn't too bad." He chuckled some. Alfons was certainly eager. That wasn't a bad thing at all. Hopefully he wouldn't get frustrated; this wasn't an easy skill to learn.

"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."

If Alfons was frustrated, he didn't show it at all; as a scientist and an engineer, he'd had to sit through experiments and projects being destroyed and starting from scratch... so at least this didn't carry any such penalties. It was just a matter of getting enough practice to get it down, right?

...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.

"Alright, you've got the general motion down, you need to fine tune it." Maes smiled reassuringly. "It took me a while to get it down, too." he handed the knife back to Alfons once more.

"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."

At least he had the general idea? Alfons nodded as he watched the older man, trying to learn how to throw the knife properly. Maes made it look so easy, like the blade was nothing but an extension of his arm. Alfons didn't harbor any illusions that he'd get to that level of skill anytime soon, but he'd hopefully at least be able to live up to the man's time and effort.

"No strain," Alfons muttered under his breath, trying to commit it to memory, "nice and smooth, do it naturally..."

This time the knife managed to nick the pillow, Alfons's arm still a little jerky when it came to stopping but learning the motions fairly quickly. And it really did feel nice, having Maes's attention and being treated solely for himself and his own merits.

"Alright!" Maes grinned at the small success, and clapped Alfons on the shoulder. "You're getting it! You've just got to work on keeping your motions smooth. Like... like you were dancing. Think of the knife as a woman - you want to be smooth and gentle with her, and move her with you. Guns are like men, you can be a little rougher with them and let them do most of the work. With knives, you have to lead."

That was how he looked at it, anyway.

"Give it another try."

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/landels_damned/75642.html?thread=4296058#t4296058).]

Elena had run on the assumption that the patients that had been here the longest were in the digits when it came to room numbers, and while she wasn't entirely sure her assumption was the right one, it paid off this time. She only had to walk a few feet down the first hallway before hearing Hughes' voice from behind one of the doors on her left.

She knocked. "Excuse me? Mr. Hughes?"

Oh... that was so not the imagery that Maes should have used, as it made Alfons turn a bright shade of red at the mental image of that. Being rough, letting them do the work... and Alfons had one man in particular he was thinking about, and and and...

...thankfully there was a knock on the door at that moment, and Alfons managed to keep from giving an undignified squeak. "Ah, go ahead and deal with that, Mr. Hughes? I'll, um... keep practicing. Yes."

And try not to blush so very hard as he did so...

Okay, maybe that hadn't been the best analogy. But that had been all he could think of!

Elena's arrival destracted him, though. What was she doing here? Oh, probably returning his knife. Which he was extremely thankful for - he was down to his reserves as it was!

"Alright, great Alfons. What can I do for you, Elena?"

Elena held the knife out to him. "Just wanted to return this," she told Hughes, smiling. "Thanks for letting me borrow it. Hi, Alfons!"

The girl walked over the boy and watched him practice throwing. "Can I have a go?"

"Hello, Elena. Did you and Reno decide what you were going to do tonight?" Alfons smiled at the girl, honestly glad to see her again; she had been nice to him before, and showing such concern over the bulletin board had been... well... touching. It wasn't often that Alfons got that, and it made him feel good inside.

So he nodded at the question, retrieving from the pillow- and resisting the temptation to beam at finally hitting his mark- and offering it to her, handle first as Maes had told him to do so. "Sure, feel free! I've been practicing for awhile, so giving my arm a break would be nice."

"Thank you, Elena. And you're more than welcome, I hope it helped you." Maes took the knife gladly, and it disappeared into his clothing. He watched the two of them, curious to see what Elena could do.

He really was standing by, beaming like a proud father. Alfons was shaping up alright with the knife, and he was feeling better about the teen going out at night. He could at least defend himself.

"Give it a go, Elena," he said, nodding. "I wanna see what you've got."

Elena laughed. "We're certainly doing something, but I've no idea what. I just know that we're getting together with our boss and some new guy...I'm actually going to go there as soon as I finish in here." She gave another huge grin to Hughes and tucked the file that she had been carrying in her waistband to leave her other hand free. Of course she was Elena. There was no way that the Regina Ellis that she had spent dinner reading up on was anything but another trick concocted by this place to get her to doubt herself even more. "I never got to do anything with it, but it was nice to have. Thanks again."

Taking the knife from Alfons, she did her best to copy his movements exactly. The pillow was an easy target, but she'd have to adjust for angle to compensate for the fact that it was on the bed and not higher. Oh well. "Here goes."

Elena aimed and let the knife go, praying that it would hit...

...And hit it did. The knife buried itself in the pillow, handle up.

"Ah, then I hope that you get far and stay safe; I'm sure that after Maes has his talk, then we'll be exploring too."

If Alfons had been a more competitive sort of boy, or if he hadn't known that Elena had faced a situation where he himself had failed so badly in, then he might have been insulted that she could throw the knife so much better than he himself could. But seeing as how she was probably stronger than himself, and with better training... well, it just made him determined to get better.

But first he had to smile, impressed at her skill. "Good job, Elena! I've been trying for awhile, but I still haven't quite gotten the hang of it."

He trotted over and retrieved the knife, going back next to Elena and shifting into the proper stance, aiming carefully. It had to be possible, if she did it! Stiff wrist, control, let his arm relax to a stop, don't strain or choke it, angle down...

And the knife impacted with the edge of the pillow, edge down. Not a perfect hit by any means, but it made the boy beam and look at Maes, all bright grins and happiness. Hah, he was getting it! He wasn't useless anymore!

"Well, I guess I shouldn't worry too much about you two, huh?" Maes grinned and shook his head. "Elena, I don't think you need me to teach you too much, you've got a good hand. And Alfons, you're picking this up real quick! I'm impressed. You'll be throwing like a pro in no time."

He placed a hand on each of their shoulder's, looking at the knife. They were just kids... but had he been much older when he joined the academy? No, he hadn't been. And how old had he been when he was assigned to the investigations division? Just twenty.

"It's a shame you guys have to be here, but I'm glad you're gonna be able to take care of yourselves."

"I hit it!" Elena squealed. "I hit it but I didn't think I was going to...I thought--Oh! Great job, Alfons!" She clapped her hands gleefully, looking for all the world(s) like a child half her age. Thank God. She wasn't totally helpless without a gun or materia. If only Reno could have seen this...

The girl clapped her hand to her forehead and groaned. "Shit. Reno! I'm totally going to be late--I forgot!" Damn it. And she'd been having so much fun, too.

She hugged Hughes around the middle, planting a kiss on his stubbly cheek. He'd become like a favorite uncle to her. "I need to go now. Good luck tonight!"

Turning to Alfons, she repeated the process.

"Bye!!"

[dashing over here (http://community.livejournal.com/landels_damned/72522.html?thread=4272202#t4272202).]

Between Hughes's praise, Elena's applause, and his own success, Alfons had been feeling much better than he had been. And then?

Then Elena kissed him. On the cheek. Just like that.

The boy turned a soft shade of pink as the girl ran out the door, and he tenderly felt the spot where those lips had pressed against him, a small but warm smile on his face. That had been so sweet of her, and after two years of dealing with Edward "I Am Totally Oblivious" Elric, even more surprising than it otherwise had been.

...yeah, he might have been a little useless for knife-throwing for a while after that. But who would have thought that he'd find such affection in Landel's, of all places?

Well, wasn't that something? Maes just grinned and squeezed Alfons's shoulder. Elena was a real sweet girl, he was glad he was able to look after her. And she seemed to be taking a liking to Alfons...

"She's a real nice girl," was all he said, with a small wink. "You can keep that knife, take it with you tonight. I've got two, those will do me fine." But somehow, he got the feeling that the boy's mind wasn't exactly on throwing knives.

M1-M10 Hall, Outside M5, Nightshift 22

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