always one step behind you

[Our resident knife nut-slash-doting dad is somewhere outside Marshall Apartment. Thanks to Grit's chip event, Hughes woke up this morning feeling quite...peculiar, but raring to practice his aim. A piece of paper with a bull's eye is tacked onto a large empty barrel that sits atop a large crate a considerable distance away from the soldier, who is eying it carefully. It doesn't take him long to let his knife fly; his technique is sleek, quick and practiced.

And the blade does indeed fly - although it seems to be flying more like a bullet, a silver blur that whooshes straight into the middle of the black dot. Instead of embedding itself into the barrel's wooden planks, the knife punches a hole in and zooms through the other side, spinning and disappearing off-screen.

Needless to say, Hughes is pretty speechless as he approaches the communicator, which is perched somewhere close to the apartment.]

...

First I wake up this morning tingling and glowing, and now this. I'm...pretty sure I'm not supposed to do any of these things.

Anyhow, guess it's time to go pick that up.