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Devil's Nest: Wednesday Evening

It was a good day. Weather was nice if a bit humid, Jack'd woken up half a meter taller than usual and hulkingly male, he'd had the chance for a motorcycle ride with a friend. He rocked on up into work, wearing a nametag with "My name is JACK and my pronouns are HE/HIM/HIS" and smirked over at Tiny. Tiny was looming behind the bar with tattooed arms crossed under an even more impressive chest. Jack held up his hands for the keys. Tiny blinked and smiled a little before tossing them over.

Whistling tunelessly, Jack did inventory and put it in the till. Then he swaggered on over to the axe throwing to check out how much more torque these big beefcake biceps actually had.

Swish swish swish THWACK!

Awwwww yeah! He did a little victory fist pump, and a minor bellow of, "YEA-AH!" when that axehead sank in good and proper. Jack had aim and if his everyday girl-body had thrown it, it'd still have stuck but not quite that deeply. Sometimes it wasn't the size that counted, it was the depth.

If anyone needed Jack, he'd be over there, cackling and throwing axes like an excited axe-throwing beefcake of a biped.

[Devil's Nest is Open! OCD is up!]

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At the bar. Mod your fun, drink your feelings, flirt, whatever people do at bars. Feel free to do your own thing or call Jack over.

You're wearing closed-toed shoes, right? That's all Jack really cares about. That, and you don't have a drink in hand while you're throwing.

Take out any aggression you want at the range! Laugh at Jack's glee! Go wild!

But not too wild, or you'd summon the wrath of .. what is probably a giant blonde Viking warrior goddess right now and you know? Go ahead. That'd be a thing to see.

Duke was just going to lean against a nearby table and watch for a few moments.

"You know, I figured I'd swing by and return the 'are you okay?' favor, but seems to me you're doing fine." He raised an appreciative eyebrow. "Very fine."

Jack threw the last of his axes and turned, spreading his arms and gesturing at all of his everything. "I know, right? This doesn't suck." His voice was deeper, a more rumbling, gravelly tone but the cadence was still normal Jack.

"Told you, man. Ain't no thing where I'm from and the torque I got from the new guns has me considering doing more upper body shit when I work out," Jack grinned. Gestured with his chin at Duke, "How are you doin'? You any more comfortable in that skin?"

Beat.

"Like the braids. Those are pretty fuckin' cool. Almost makes me wish I had hair."

"Octavia did a good job," Duke confirmed, one hand going up to gently touch the braidwork. "And yeah, I'm getting there. Yoga yesterday helped a lot."

Enough to start getting curious, beyond what he'd managed to explore on his own in his downtime the last couple days. And now there were all these nice, male-shaped people on the island again. . . .

Jack's lips twitched and he rubbed a hand across them to hide the smile. "Kaidan wound up braiding Kanan's. He might never get that braid out, it was complicated as hell and I don't think he even noticed, kinda zoned out and went all half-lidded like a happy cat. Damn near expected him to fucking purr."

Tongue click and a tilt of the jaw, "Like I said. Damn near makes me wish I had hair."

A nod to the bar. "Want a drink? You seem easier with yourself today, at least. Not as itchy."

Duke had damn near melted into Octavia's couch. It was nice when people played with your hair!

He bit back an automatic protest that he hadn't been itchy and shrugged. "Actually . . . I was kind of thinking I might try throwing some axes first? Turns out these arms are stronger than they look."

They had not been the issue when he kept falling over during yoga practice, after all.

"Sure, range is open," Jack answered, turned on a heel and swaggered herself downrange to collect the axes. Taking them out of the target with a practiced motion took a whole lot less effort than she usually had to spend.

Sauntering back, she offered the handles and asked, "You know how to do this or do you want some pointers?"

Duke took the axes and looked them over thoughtfully, hefting them in his hands to try and find the balance point.

His much smaller than normal hands. Dammit.

"Pointers might be nice," he allowed. "More used to, like, hatchets and splitting axes and shit."

Jack nodded. "You can throw those too if you gotta but they fly like shit." He reached for one of the spare axes, "Thing with these, you don't need force. Gravity and momentum will do the job for you. Try and throw 'em hard, probably gonna bounce the fucker off the target or break the handle. Once saw one asshole stick it handle-first into some already chawed-up wood. Idiot."

Took a grip on the handle, "You play baseball at all? If you know what that is, that's the grip you use. You hold the axe handle like a baseball bat, only with one hand. When you extend it, you want your thumb parallel to the shaft." He demonstrated, lifting the axe from the table and showing a full arm extension. "You can fold your thumb around or leave it parallel to the shaft, whatever's most comfortable for you. I like leaving my thumb on top. It helps with control of the fly."

Duke frowned, copying Jack's grip and arm extension carefully. He hadn't played baseball since little league, but he at least knew the basics of how to hold a bat for it. "Like this?"

Jack checked and nodded. "Yeah. So you get it in a grip. Trick with it, like most shit, is to know when to let the fuck go. Natural follow through would have you swing too fuckin' far." He demonstrated, bringing his arm back straight, elbow aimed at the ceiling, axe hanging straight down his back. He slowly brought it up and forward until the arm was straight out in front of him. Then just a bit down where the natural swing would end. "This shit? This is too fuckin' far."

Brought the axe back, this time bringing it forward and paused just before the arm went straight. "This? Right here? This is where you let it go." When the arm was straight, "This is where you let it fly."

He brought the axe back and said, "Don't try to throw it. You just.." Extension, release, "..let it go." The axe flew true and hit the center. "Don't worry about aim for now. You want to get the feel for it, watch how many times the axe flips in the air before it sinks the target. If it's hitting backward, take a half step backward and try again."

Duke huffed a little. "Knowing when to let go. Not always my strong suit." He smiled ruefully, copying Jack's motions again and moving through the whole motion a few times before giving it a try.

The axe smacked into the outside edge of the target butt first. But hey. At least it didn't hit the floor!

Jack crossed her arms and leaned a hip against the table. "Never had that problem myself," he said lightly, "Learnin' when not to has been one hell of a process." Lifted a chin at the target, "That's good for a first shot. Take a half step back, try it again. Like, not a pace or anything, just a natural half-step."

Duke looked down. "My usual half-pace, or this body's half-pace?"

His stride was so much shorter now.

"You're using that body's arm, you use that body's pace," Jack said, "The physics don't change just cuz your brain's different."

Duke blinked, then nodded. "Yeah, okay, point." He looked down again and took an awkward half-step back. Awkward, because now he was thinking about it too hard instead of just letting this body move.

He hefted the next ax, checked his grip, and ran through the same couple of practice swings before letting it go. He didn't make it any closer to the target (in fact, it ended up a little further away), but at least hit with the right end forward this time!

Jack gestured with her chin at the target, "Now you've got the pacing down. When you aim, you don't aim with the axe. You aim with your arm but you use your upper body to move the arm. The yoga stuff you do help 'use your core, don't pivot at your shoulder' make sense?"

Duke nodded. "Yep." He smirked, just a little. "Kind of like throwing a punch."

Hey, he'd owned up to knowing at least a few 'punchy tricks', right?

"Mmmhm," Jack just sort of purred. "Site where you want the axe to land, adjust with your core, aim the arm and let 'er fly."

Duke picked up the next ax, eyeing the target carefully. He shifted his stance, grounding through his heels and lining up his body. He inhaled, pulling the ax back, elbow towards the ceiling the way Jack had done.

Exhale. Swing. Let go.

The ax thunked into place, about an inch off from dead center.

Jack uncrossed his arms and clapped. "Quick study," he said approvingly, "Nice throw."

Jack has no idea if Northman's ever in there. You can find out if you want.

Actual image of Jack while male.

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