goddamngrenades | RP Open Post

"Drill. Hand to hand. Kimball's more of a ranged fighter though she is picking up on Connie's tricks really well. You might wanna go over the rest of them with you, I only ever learned the first...five?" he shrugs and jerks his thumb back over his shoulder. "Need someone that actually knows what they're doing so I can teach them not to die."

He nods sharply and goes to pull on a t-shirt. He slips a knife into a sheathe that sits at the small of his back, just in case. He really hates going unarmed these days. "Alright. Let's show them how it's done."

"Just show 'em how to fall without hurting themselves. You'll be doing a lot of it." And there's no malice to it. No gloating. Just a flat statement of a fact like Carolina used to toss at them before practice. Make friends with the mat, you'll spend plenty of time there.

"Sure," Wash says, utterly bland. There's not even any point fighting right now. His pride isn't so fragile that he'll take hitting the mat as an insult. "Lead the way."

Lead he does without further comment, back to the mats where Bitters and Smith were attempting a grapple and not doing all that bad. "Smith- knee lock and pull to the left."

Bitters had half a second to try to figure out what the hell that was before Smith looped his leg around Bitter's and yanked back to the left. Of course he didn't know how to land it just yet so they go tumbling. "Good hustle guys. Line up, we're gonna give a proper demo."

Jensen may or may not squeed. York opts to pretend it has something to do with watching them work and not the dead rumor mill.

"Alright Wash." He turns on his heel, hands out. "Come at me."

They'd got better. Five days and York has actually taught them stuff. He tries not to feel happy about that, he doesn't think it sticks. He can't help the small half-smile that curls his lip when he watches Smith down the other soldier. It's a good job that York's done.

He stretches for a moment then faces York. They're not aiming for a real fight right now, so he opts for a charge that's much clumsier than he normally would have gone for, closer to what the rookies would probably do.

York keeps himself on the balls of his feet, light and ready. When Wash is in range he doesn't grapple, doesn't play around, simply goes low to jam his shoulder into Wash's solar plexus, shoves forward and up to flip him onto his back. Easy as breathing- even if Wash is more dense than he used to be. Kid's been eating his Wheaties.

The applause he didn't see coming.

"Need to see that again?"

It knocks the wind out of him a little, but not half as much as he knows it could if York was really trying to hurt him. Or if Wash was untrained at this. He falls back, turning it into a roll that keeps him from hitting the mat full force and lets him push himself back up to his feet easily.

When the applause comes, he just stares at the rebels for a moment, caught off guard by the sheer enthusiasm for this basic training exercise.

"One more time Wash. I'm gonna slow it down so they see what's happening so hang onto me if you need it." Momentum and Velocity do a lot of the balancing work for them, but this way they can actually see what he's doing, how he's doing it, and manage to replicate it.

"Like I was saying. You go in low. Shoulder to the solar plexus- knocks the wind out of them. Who can tell me the biggest benefit of a flip like this?" York motions to Rogers while Wash gets his wind back in him.

"Don't have to let go of your primary fire arm, sir!"

"That's right. Which means on the turn-"

"You put two in the chest, one in the visor!" Jensen calls out- her sheer enthusiasm for killshots is a little unsettling until you realise it's all about efficiency. He can encourage that. "That's right Jensen. And if you got a partner behind you, they get 'em instead."

He turns back to Wash, loose and braced just like before. "Alright Wash. Ready?"

Wash nods, settles back into a fighting stance focussing on York, although he keeps half an eye on what the kids are doing. Rebels. The rebels. Not kids. They're a job, not friends. They are definitely learning. Sure they probably won't ever be Freelancer good, but they've got a hell of a lot better chance of surviving this way than they would otherwise.

He doesn't respond to York, just heads for the other man, a little more slowly, ready to grab hold of him if they need to slow it down.

Just like before he goes in low, presses his shoulder into Wash's solar plexus and starts to lift at half speed. His hand actually has to slip out to grab wash's hip so he won't flip over too early, but other than that? Same motions as before. "It's all in the follow through. If you brace low when they come at you hard, you can use their momentum against them."

Once again he's on his back on the mat, albeit at a rather more sedate pace than last time. After the hip grab, he should probably have expected the muffled giggling and murmurs among the rebels. He gets the feeling that that betting pool is back on.

"Alright. We'll come back to that when I'm done borrowing Wash. Next lesson. What to do if someone pulls that trick on you." Which is a little more difficult but hey, they can pick it up if they drill hard. And they have nothing but time here. No hurry.

He offers Wash a hand back up, eyes still on the platoon. His platoon. "How do you think that works?"

"Uhhh...use your feet like a ninja?" Palmomo offers, actually raising his hand to talk. Jensen snorts and supplies "Use your momentum and flip them instead of flipping?"

Wash took York's hand, letting the other man help him up. The temptation is there to flip him just to be an asshole, but it would be too familiar right now, and unfair when he's trying to teach, even if it would probably get a laugh out of the kids. His kids. Wash can see the way he's looking at them, all protective. The way that he used to look at Wash back in the project. He might have kicked Wash around on the mats, but he'd learnt.

"Good idea Jensen," he says, giving her a nod.

The fact that Wash actually SAID something to one of them had the whole group go quiet and wide eyed. York's managed to humanize himself to them a bit- Wash? Is still kind of an enigma.

York helps him up and steps back so he can be the one doing the rushing. "Ready when you are, Wash."

He's been trying to keep his distance from them, so why does their shock sting so much? Fuck, this was all a terrible awful idea. Fuck everything.

He takes up a stance ready for York to come at him. 'Ready."

Like Wash did he takes the same loping run, a little uncoordinated but fast. Faster than he'd been during the project. He comes at Wash hard, braced for the hit.

He's faster than Wash remembers. That's something to watch out for later.

Wash braces himself, bucks his shoulder to catch him in the chest but ready for York to ground him again.

Up and over, same as before but when he hit the apex he snaps his legs back and hooks an arm around Wash's waist, planting his feet and heaving Wash to the mat as gently as he could with all that force.

Even with York trying to be gentle, the landing knocks the breathe out of him and makes him ache. He heaves a breathe and pushes himself back up, watching for the rookies' reactions. They're watching like it's the best fucking thing they've ever seen.

"Hey." The mat might be thick but landing from that one's a doozy- he drops into a crouch, hand resting on Wash's shoulder while he settles himself. "Need a second?"

He feels the ache of it all down his spine. It's a bitch to recover from, even when you know it's coming.

"I'll be fine," he says, but takes the second that York's offering him to catch his breath.

"I got home brew icy hot in my bunk. You can borrow it when we're done." He peers over to Jensen and Bitters, how they're arguing about how flexible you'd need to be to do that- but al of them should be capable of this stuff. Its' why he's showing them. Ten, fifteen seconds, hell a whole minute and a half goes by before he pushes himself up to his feet and offers Wash a hand up. "Slow this time. Try not to drop me on my head."

It's more kindness than he expected after how their last conversation they'd had, but York had always been kind. Kinder than Wash deserves. "Sure."

He lets York pull him up again, squeezes his hand just a little too long before he lets go and readies himself.

It's one thing no one's burned out of him yet It's one thing he's always going to hold onto until there's no reason he can't. Wash might be an apathetic jackass but he's trying to cope. IT's not the healthiest way of going about it, but who's he to judge?

So he steps back and does the run, slowing when Wash gives him that same point of impact. SLow, so damn slow and it makes getting the momentum to get to his feet a bitch and he has to steady himself with his arm around his waist and a hand on Wash's hip before he's able to take control of the flip. Slow like this he can be infinitely more gentle in how he brings Wash over and bears him down to the mat.

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