Got it. [ No joking tone there as Jim gets up too. He supposes he'll clean the table up later.
For someone who's never thrown a serious punch in his life, there's nothing else Jim can do but agree; besides, he's seen a man with a concussion before, and anything worse than that is not something he wants to be responsible for unless he absolutely has to be.
When he considers it, though, it's likely the self-defence training is just for his own personal benefit than anything else. Some sense of accomplishment in the fact that, hey, he did it. There aren't very many other victories to his name. ]
Hey, you ever trained in a special style? [ It's what he asks as he stands in his now-empty living room with John, hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. ] Or did you just learn all of this on your own?
I did some training, [ is deliberately opaque. There's no sociably comfortable way to say he learned a variety of martial arts styles purely so that he could figure out what worked best with handguns. ]
No matter what you learn, it's not like there are rules when you actually get into a fight. Alright, stand how you think you should if you're going to throw a punch.
[ John's dull voice transitions without fanfare, watching Jim position himself and then stepping closer to adjust him and ramble a bit about torso-hip-swivel force being connected to shoulder-arm-fist and the way those movements help. The rocket science of punching people. ]
[ All of John's logical explanations go right over Jim's head. As he's shown the wave of motion his arm goes through when he punches, he doesn't quite understand it beyond 'so this is how far my arm's gotta go'.
John is facing him, but Jim doesn't trust himself enough to not punch him accidentally somehow (he has the coordination of a drunk grandmother). So he makes sure to turn ninety degrees first before giving his first throw, which is way too strong and makes his arm socket hurt. ]
What does 'contort myself' mean? [ But Jim does try the punch a little slower, finding that at least this method keeps his arm socket from hurting like a bitch. He's never felt weaker in his life. ] Hey, should I have stretched before this?
[ Jim doesn't practise tai chi, but this feels a lot like what he imagines it to be like, as lame as throwing the same punch at 5% speed is.
Given that such a thing won't hurt anyone, he turns and slow-punches John. It's more like a tap than anything, but still. ]
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For someone who's never thrown a serious punch in his life, there's nothing else Jim can do but agree; besides, he's seen a man with a concussion before, and anything worse than that is not something he wants to be responsible for unless he absolutely has to be.
When he considers it, though, it's likely the self-defence training is just for his own personal benefit than anything else. Some sense of accomplishment in the fact that, hey, he did it. There aren't very many other victories to his name. ]
Hey, you ever trained in a special style? [ It's what he asks as he stands in his now-empty living room with John, hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. ] Or did you just learn all of this on your own?
getting rl'd a bit, sorry for slow
No matter what you learn, it's not like there are rules when you actually get into a fight. Alright, stand how you think you should if you're going to throw a punch.
[ John's dull voice transitions without fanfare, watching Jim position himself and then stepping closer to adjust him and ramble a bit about torso-hip-swivel force being connected to shoulder-arm-fist and the way those movements help. The rocket science of punching people. ]
no worries! take your time \o/
John is facing him, but Jim doesn't trust himself enough to not punch him accidentally somehow (he has the coordination of a drunk grandmother). So he makes sure to turn ninety degrees first before giving his first throw, which is way too strong and makes his arm socket hurt. ]
Ow--
no subject
[ John looks from Jim's face to his arm, as if puzzled when he could have possibly injured himself. Invisible ninja? Magic wall? Nope, just air.
I n t e r e s t i n g. ]
Maybe just go through the movement... slowly. And don't contort yourself.
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[ Jim doesn't practise tai chi, but this feels a lot like what he imagines it to be like, as lame as throwing the same punch at 5% speed is.
Given that such a thing won't hurt anyone, he turns and slow-punches John. It's more like a tap than anything, but still. ]