Midnight Manor Private Residence, Saturday Evening

[pocketpretzels]

Having made the decision to do an actual Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow, Watts was spending a significant portion of today repeatedly herding a cat out of the kitchen making some of the dishes ahead of time. Like the dinner rolls which were currently cooling on the counter.

Humming a song as he worked, he was currently chopping apples for tomorrow's dessert.

Though part of him was also wondering if perhaps some butter tarts might not go awry. He'd even found a vegan recipe. Was two desserts too many?

Comments

[pocketpretzels]

"I do hope this is an isolated incident," Watts said, his own train of thought going down a similar-ish track to Marc's.

[hasaknightjob]

"Same," Marc said. He helped himself to another spare piece of apple. "Because around this place who knows what the fuck that might be the first sign of."

More people falling from the sky, for instance. Marc wasn't ruling it out.

[pocketpretzels]

"At least it's someone who already lives h- damn it all," he grumbled, as the knife slipped yet again at the last moment, ruining what would have been a perfect apple slice.

[hasaknightjob]

Look, Marc wasn't gonna say he'd been watching Watts's... what would be generously called knife skills with an itch to grab the knife out of his hands and show him how to use it. But on the other hand if the opportunity to at least bring it up was going to be served up on a platter like that...

"Need a hand?"

[pocketpretzels]

For a moment, Watts's pride considered insisting that it was fine, he could manage. But then he considered how much work there still was left to do, and practicality won out.

"Yes, actually, that- would be appreciated."

[hasaknightjob]

"All right, give me the knife," Marc said, holding out his hand. "Handle first."

[pocketpretzels]

He wasn’t that bad, Marc, oh my god. Hence the slightly exasperated look as he handed over the knife. Handle first, yes.

[hasaknightjob]

Marc simply quirked his eyebrows up to show he wasn't assuming anything.

"First up, you want a sharp blade," Marc said. "A dull blade is a dangerous blade. Do you know how to test it?"

[pocketpretzels]

“Other than attempting to use it and hope it gets the job done?” Watts asked. “Not in the least.”

[hasaknightjob]

"Piece of paper works," Marc said. He rummaged through the drawers until he found a spare note pad. He tore a piece of paper off of it and held it up. "Okay, watch. See how I'm holding the knife? 45 degree angle? If it cuts the paper we're good. If it catches, it's dull."

[pocketpretzels]

“All right,” Watts said, watching curiously.

[hasaknightjob]

Marc made a slice in the paper, going slow enough that Watts could watch. "Okay. See? That's fairly smooth. Doesn't hurt to hone them every time you use them though. Let me worry about making sure all our blades are sharp."

[pocketpretzels]

“Is it possible to over-sharpen something?” Watts wondered.

[hasaknightjob]

"Sharpen, yeah," Marc said. He put the paper to the side to get it out of the way. "Honing the problem would be if you did it wrong. So maybe I should make taking care of that one of my chores for a while. Let's get you learning how to cut first and then we can get into taking care of the blade."

Especially because if Watts didn't have the right coordination for cutting, honing could be a recipe for sliced hands.

[pocketpretzels]

“No use putting the cart before the horse,” Watts nodded.

[hasaknightjob]

"Now if you were fighting with a knife we'd be doing different lessons," Marc said. Not that he figured Watts would ever want to, but all the same didn't hurt to establish some guidelines in case of emergency. "What we're focusing on here is dealing with food without hurting yourself."

Marc handed the knife back to Watts, handle first. "Show me how you hold it."

[pocketpretzels]

The answer was ‘awkwardly’; essentially, Watts was making a fist around the knife, his thumb resting overtop his middle and ring fingers.

[hasaknightjob]

Well that started to answer some questions. "Okay, hold on. I guess literally."

Marc went to get himself a knife of similar size to the one Watts was using. He held it in his left while demonstrating what he was talking about with his right. "You're controlling the blade. Not the handle, the blade. Where's the most control in your hand?"

Marc pinched his thumb and index finger together. "Here, right? You want to pick something up, you're most likely to use these fingers?"

Marc was asking because he wanted to be sure. As far as he knew Watts didn't have any problems with his hands, but it didn't hurt to check.

[pocketpretzels]

No problems with his hands, just the way he gripped things like utensils and writing implements.

"I... suppose, yes?" Watts said. "I've never given it much thought."

[hasaknightjob]

"Okay, so you want to get those two fingers as close to here as you're comfortable with," Marc said. He moved his knife back to his right hand to demonstrate. "This is one hold. It's a fist like you were doing but see how my thumb is higher? It's touching the index finger. Try that one, see how it feels."

[pocketpretzels]

"Odd," Watts decided, sliding his thumb up to mimic Marc's grip. "It feels odd."

[hasaknightjob]

"Try this one then," Marc said. He adjusted his hand so that his index finger and thumb were at the base of the blade instead of around the handle. "Might be better. This one has more control."

[pocketpretzels]

"That's still- it may just be because I am unaccustomed to it," Watts admitted. "But it doesn't feel right."

[hasaknightjob]

"They'll both feel weird until you get used to it," Marc said, "but which one felt better?"

[pocketpretzels]

"The second one," Watts said, after thinking about it for a moment. "Which is strange- the first one is closer to what I am accustomed to, you'd think it would be the other way around."