Atticus's need for knives was far greater then anything else. He'd never needed to actually get into throwing things the way he needed now. Instead right now it seemed like he kept being watched. In the common room, there was a prefect who seemed to watch if he had a knife out. Then if he was anywhere else in the castle, it was like his siblings could sense he had a knife. One of them would show up and the whole thing would then be ruined. Instead he needed to find a place all to himself to actually get to play with them and throw them. So he'd hidden a few of his prized knives on his body as he moved through the castle.
The room or requirements was always the best place to go. No one would worry about something if they didn't know it was happening. And the room would do anything. So he needed targets, it made targets for him. If no one was with him, he'd be just fine. So he slowly started working on sending his knife at a chosen target. Then he'd throw another at a different target. The movement soothed him and made him feel less flighty.
Carter wanted to punch something. Not that that was really a new feeling. He'd sat through too many theoretical classes for the day, and that was making him restless. He didn't want to sit there listening about how things worked, he wanted to be getting out there and doing it. He needed to burn off some of that energy, and punching things seemed to be the way to go - he had done boxing when he was younger, because his mother thought it might help him channel his negative energy into something productive. It really just succeeded in making him good at punching.
But hey, that might be what he needed to do at the moment. He sometimes got the room of requirement to open up a place where he could do that. So that was the plan at the moment. Though when he found it, and stepped in, he noticed another boy in the room. Throwing knives. Oh fun. "That looks like fun," he commented, leaning back against the wall.
Atticus liked this. It made him feel better that he was able to just focus on the one thing. His brain wasn't thinking about anything else. It was just the smooth fluid movement of throwing the knife that soothed him. He didn't know why his siblings wouldn't understand this part of him, but he knew they wouldn't. Maybe it would be better that he just kept it away from them. The more he stayed in his own bubble, the better.
But there were words being said. It wasn't his family's voice, so he didn't feel his nerves flare up. Instead he stayed focused on throwing until he was out of knives. "It's calming." He stated. He wasn't really sure if that was correct or not, but it did seem to be close to the correct words for it. He didn't turn to look at the other person though. Instead just moved to recollect his knives and to start all over again.
Carter watched the knives flying through the air, the movement of the other boy as he sent them flying. It did look like fun. Carter didn't have a lot of experience with throwing knives - though he had gotten into a knife fight once or twice. That wasn't really important though. Kind of. Old news.
The boy didn't answer him right away, but that was fine. Carter just continued to watch him until he spoke. "It looks it," he said. "I can see why it would be." Those sorts of things did have the benefit of calming him down too, after that spiked his energy that was.
Without thinking, he held the blade part of one of the knives and offered the handle to the other male. "The targets don't bleed or anything, so it's not fully satisfying, but it's good." He was just fine with making this work out. Throwing a knife made him feel better and his siblings would all yell at him if they knew he'd prefer to do other things with a knife. But he actually felt like things would be okay with this person.
He didn't know them, but that might make it better. "I'm Atticus." He added, a little unsure of what to do. Either this male would take the knife or he wouldn't. And if he didn't, then Atticus would just have to go back to his normal movements and pretend like this never happened.
Carter looked at the knife that was held out to him for a moment, and without really needing to think about it, he took it from him. "They could probably be charmed to bleed," he mused, turning the dagger around in his hand. Maybe he should keep daggers on him more often - ignoring the trouble that he had gotten into after that knife fight.
"Carter," he returned, turning towards the targets, and flinging the knife towards them. It wasn't the best throw, but it had hit the target. And that was good enough considering that he didn't throw knives a lot. He should definitely do that more.
Atticus shrugged. Sure, it could be charmed. "Haven't learned that charm." And it was the truth. He was still a baby when it came to Hogwarts. He knew somethings, obviously. But he didn't know how to make a target bleed. He could ask for someone to charm it, sure. But that would just be something he wasn't really ready for. He didn't want the other kid thinking he was just lame and needed help. He could do other things.
He did nod his head at the other male's name and threw another knife at the target. Considering he'd been doing this forever, he probably shouldn't say anything to gloat. It was just a hobby.
"Haven't either," Carter said with a shrug of his shoulders. "But I'm sure there is one." There was charms for all sorts of things, surely you could find one that would make pretend blood come out of things that weren't meant to bleed. It seemed like the sort of thing that magic could do.
Crossing the room, he went and picked up the knife that he had thrown, before walking back over to Atticus, spinning it around his hand with ease. "So why'd you get into knife throwing?" he questioned, flinging it again. Yeah, this was fun.
Having his knife back in his hand felt right. Sure, he had a collection. It wouldn't be hard to give Carter one of his other knives. But that would involve work to go get it. So instead they'd just work on the one knife and that'd be just fine with him. "Because actually stabbing someone would get me into a lot of trouble." Words just happened before he could even think about it.
Maybe he should have lied about it? But oh well. "It's calming and I love knives. I probably have like....over forty." And he tossed it with ease at the target, grinning when it hit it's spot. "But I've got siblings here that think it's weird, so thus it's done in secret." He'd prefer it if his siblings didn't know how weird he really was.
At the other boys words, Carter laughed slightly. "Yes, that would," he agreed. "It does," he added. Considering that he had gotten into a knife fight. But no one had died, or gotten seriously injured, or any of that, so what was the problem?
"That's quite a few," he mused, watching as he hit the target. "And makes sense." He could understand that. The trying to keep things from siblings. He had a good collection of differences with his older brother, and that caused some problems. "Can see why you'd want to keep it hidden."
"Yeah. Once you get one, it just seems easy to get more." No one really questioned him when he was buying a new knife. Instead people just sort of turned a blind eye to this sort of thing. No one wanted to really worry about it. No one questioned anything when it came to him. Which was nice. It meant he was able to hide things without too much trouble.
Not getting questioned for buying knives did not seem like the safest thing ever. It didn't surprise him. People were stupid, and seemed to just let things happen. And then bemoan later that they had done nothing to stop it. "That's cool at least," He chucked the knife at the target again.
Atticus shrugged. "I like them." It was probably the biggest understatement he'd ever said out loud. But it was true. He loved his knives and his collection. Sure, he didn't use them against people. Instead he practiced using them on the walls and stuff like that. He used dummies. "Some places have the weird....throwing stars but I don't like those as much." He'd been given a pair of those before, which he promptly traded for a new butterfly knife.
Throwing stars seemed like they could be fun, maybe he should check that out. Or even just get himself a nice knife. He did have a piece of crap one, but eh. "Wouldn't hurt to have a collection of different things, I suppose," he mused. Who knew when they might come in handy?
"Yeah. They also have different types of knives. It's always interesting to see what people come up with." Really, Atticus loved having other weapons near him, but knives were his favorite things. Now that he had the collection, he did everything he could to keep them close to himself.