[ That comment has the slightest hints of a smirk quirking at Wash's mouth, his head turning ever so slightly in Duv's direction -- but of course, something like that gets a rise out of the soldiers in front of them, too. The soldier bristles with all of the anger of a man whose petty pride has been injured, shoulders back, chest pumped out. I don't know what General Vorkosigan is thinking with these outsiders, let alone a fucking --
And there's an excuse. Wash will take that excuse. The man won't be able to finish his sentence, because he's already careening back, half-stumbling except he falls against one of his friends nearby. Wash isn't bothering to stand there to admire his handiwork, either, and the blow had been clean, quick, one hard sharp shock to the jaw. Might've been hard enough to break something, or worse. Not his fucking problem, because just as quickly as he'd wound up the blow Wash is turning on his heel.
Breathe in, breathe out. He'd promised Miles not to start anything. It wouldn't be starting anything if he just got a nice punch in and left, right? Nothing started. Sure. His expression when he meets Duv's eye is surprisingly relaxed because goddamn does it feel good to at least let something out, but frustrated still because that'd been a slip in control, frustrated because that hadn't been enough, frustrated because Duv could probably have handled that on his own, probably more gracefully. Too late now. ]
Galeni. [ His tone's surprisingly warm, despite everything, and there's actually a bit of a smile there. A tip of his head. ] Care for a walk?
[ He's already moving, quite pointedly, ignoring the yell of some other soldier behind him trying to goad him back into a fight. Lets get out of here before a fight actually starts, though if Duv lingers, well. Wash probably will too. ]
no subject
And there's an excuse. Wash will take that excuse. The man won't be able to finish his sentence, because he's already careening back, half-stumbling except he falls against one of his friends nearby. Wash isn't bothering to stand there to admire his handiwork, either, and the blow had been clean, quick, one hard sharp shock to the jaw. Might've been hard enough to break something, or worse. Not his fucking problem, because just as quickly as he'd wound up the blow Wash is turning on his heel.
Breathe in, breathe out. He'd promised Miles not to start anything. It wouldn't be starting anything if he just got a nice punch in and left, right? Nothing started. Sure. His expression when he meets Duv's eye is surprisingly relaxed because goddamn does it feel good to at least let something out, but frustrated still because that'd been a slip in control, frustrated because that hadn't been enough, frustrated because Duv could probably have handled that on his own, probably more gracefully. Too late now. ]
Galeni. [ His tone's surprisingly warm, despite everything, and there's actually a bit of a smile there. A tip of his head. ] Care for a walk?
[ He's already moving, quite pointedly, ignoring the yell of some other soldier behind him trying to goad him back into a fight. Lets get out of here before a fight actually starts, though if Duv lingers, well. Wash probably will too. ]