[ However an all-out brawl broke out, Wash isn't even entirely sure anymore. It was Lakshmi, he was sure, something some damned soldier said and you'd think they would know by now not to pick a fight with her -- but it'd happened, and of course he'd inevitably gotten dragged into it. Breathe in, breathe out, focus, that voice at the back of his head, you know you want to, David -- and he's had enough, he's had enough, he needs to stop before he gets out of hand. He's genuinely injured a few soldiers by now, split his knuckles on someone's jaw, taken a few sharp blows himself, and just as he's trying to find a way out of the crowd, he catches sight of Miles. He can't tell if he's already hurt, can't tell if he's been in the fight for long, but these soldiers apparently don't see an issue with ganging up on the mutie.
Wash is fast. He's always been about speed and finesse, more than raw power, and one moment someone's aiming a blow at Miles and and suddenly Wash is there between them, catching the blow and not even hesitating to twist the man's arm with a sickening crack that's somehow still audible despite the ruckus around them. No time to linger on that, Wash is already shoving him back, turning around just in time to see Miles go reeling from some blow. He's there quickly, too, catches him from falling to the dirt by roughly grabbing him by the back of his uniform and dragging him back, maybe a little bit too suddenly, almost enough to throw him off balance in the other direction. ]
-- Hey. [ Raincheck on the soliloquy, Miles, sorry, he'll give you one later. Some soldier jeers at him, outsider spy from the Cetagandan base, right, that's who you fucking are, coming to your little mutie's rescue, and Miles might end up dragged with him a little as he moves forward towards that soldier, easily side-stepping some blow and twisting just enough to drive his elbow hard against the side of the man's neck, sharp enough to have him half-collapsing, staggering against the ground. Wash glances back at Miles. ] I was just leaving.
[ Some other soldier, likely drunk, barrels clumsily in their direction, and this time when Wash moves Miles bodily out of the way he ends up lifting him clean off the ground. Wash is deliberate and intentional in the way he doesn't quite set him back down fully, lifting him enough even with just the one arm to force him up onto his toes, mostly to prove a point. He'll just carry you out of here if he has to, buddy, and he absolutely can. A slight tip of his head, and for the sweat beading on his brow from all of this, Wash's breathing and voice are surprisingly steady. Calm. He's far from unscathed though, and while the bruises will take some time to show there's blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. ]
You're coming with me. [ That isn't a question, but he's still going to wait for you to affirm it. Be good for once, maybe. Though he might honestly end up picking you up either way. ]
sometime... later or smth ig!!
Wash is fast. He's always been about speed and finesse, more than raw power, and one moment someone's aiming a blow at Miles and and suddenly Wash is there between them, catching the blow and not even hesitating to twist the man's arm with a sickening crack that's somehow still audible despite the ruckus around them. No time to linger on that, Wash is already shoving him back, turning around just in time to see Miles go reeling from some blow. He's there quickly, too, catches him from falling to the dirt by roughly grabbing him by the back of his uniform and dragging him back, maybe a little bit too suddenly, almost enough to throw him off balance in the other direction. ]
-- Hey. [ Raincheck on the soliloquy, Miles, sorry, he'll give you one later. Some soldier jeers at him, outsider spy from the Cetagandan base, right, that's who you fucking are, coming to your little mutie's rescue, and Miles might end up dragged with him a little as he moves forward towards that soldier, easily side-stepping some blow and twisting just enough to drive his elbow hard against the side of the man's neck, sharp enough to have him half-collapsing, staggering against the ground. Wash glances back at Miles. ] I was just leaving.
[ Some other soldier, likely drunk, barrels clumsily in their direction, and this time when Wash moves Miles bodily out of the way he ends up lifting him clean off the ground. Wash is deliberate and intentional in the way he doesn't quite set him back down fully, lifting him enough even with just the one arm to force him up onto his toes, mostly to prove a point. He'll just carry you out of here if he has to, buddy, and he absolutely can. A slight tip of his head, and for the sweat beading on his brow from all of this, Wash's breathing and voice are surprisingly steady. Calm. He's far from unscathed though, and while the bruises will take some time to show there's blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. ]
You're coming with me. [ That isn't a question, but he's still going to wait for you to affirm it. Be good for once, maybe. Though he might honestly end up picking you up either way. ]