Office hours, Wednesday

[vdistinctive]

So the whole "teaching" thing was definitely shaping up not to be a one-off sort of venture, so Eliot figured he should probably start making an effort to do it properly.

Which apparently meant sitting around an office once a week and waiting to see if anyone needed to talk to him.

It went pretty well at first, with Val napping in one of the spare chairs while Eliot enjoyed his coffee and read a bit. By the time lunch rolled around, though, he had a picture of Sterling printed out and hung on the wall as a darts target.

[ooc: OH HEY OFFICE HOURS. Open!]

Comments

[vdistinctive]

"In an arc. A -- whatsit -- a parabola. You're going to pull back a little," Eliot demonstrated, "to get some power behind it, and then -- yeah. Just throw."

[geniuswithasmartphone]

Hardison pulled his arm tight to his shoulder, lined up the shot, and tossed the dart high, so gravity could pull it back down to where he wanted it to go.

It didn't hit Sterling in the forehead. Or even in the face. But it did hit the picture and, more importantly, stayed.

[vdistinctive]

His form was still pretty atrocious, but Eliot was willing to take it as a win. "See? And now you know the basics, the rest just takes practice, till your muscles know what to do without you havin' to think about it."