[ kovacs is already familiar with beats like these, with men that seek trouble in all kinds of ways just for the chance to prove themselves, to show they're man enough without someone undermining their pride. as soon as the man's snapping words are out, he knows there's the promise of an incoming fight on the horizon.
but what does surprise him is the way that marta suddenly rises up, sliding herself off from the table to take the initiative, watching her hand off the body in compromise. when she turns to him, posing that question, he almost loses himself in staring at her again, alcohol buzzing in his head once more. ]
Yeah. Let's go.
[ he's already moving to swap their positions, fingers sliding light against her back as he steps behind her. it'd be ideal if her words could be enough, if a peace offering of liquor would mean moving on with the night, seeking out the privacy of his room (and trying not to wonder what that would entail after the way everything has moved between them tonight).
but despite the drink in his belly, his envoy intuition isn't entirely shut up, sensing the feet of feet behind them, the weight of one firm on the ground as movement creeps up behind him. he turns swiftly in tune with his senses and quickly snags the man by the wrist, halting the swing that would have slammed the bottle directly on his head.
so much for a peace offering. curling his free fingers into a fist, he curves it into a swing, knuckles meeting the man's face, forcing him to stumble back. ]
[ the touch to her back is electric, but grounding, helping reel her back in from the rush of adrenaline that'd come with facing down a stranger almost twice her size in bulk. it's both incredibly bold and incredibly foolish of her, and a more clear-headed marta would have certainly known better (or, at the very least, thought twice about it) but he once again puts himself between her and any potential dangers and so, for that half-second at least, she is calmed.
when the fight breaks out, it's more expected than a shock. believing that man to simply let himself be told off would have been too much credit to his character, and so the startled shout she lets out is more over the sickening sound of kovacs' punch landing square where he wants it, a stream of green blood flying through the air in its wake. the man stumbles, stunned —
in that split-second marta has a miraculous moment of common sense and she takes her own stumbling steps back, out of the line of fire
— then the man's eyes go red (quite literally) and soon he's charging back for kovacs, throwing himself around the envoy's middle in an attempt to knock him down. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
but what does surprise him is the way that marta suddenly rises up, sliding herself off from the table to take the initiative, watching her hand off the body in compromise. when she turns to him, posing that question, he almost loses himself in staring at her again, alcohol buzzing in his head once more. ]
Yeah. Let's go.
[ he's already moving to swap their positions, fingers sliding light against her back as he steps behind her. it'd be ideal if her words could be enough, if a peace offering of liquor would mean moving on with the night, seeking out the privacy of his room (and trying not to wonder what that would entail after the way everything has moved between them tonight).
but despite the drink in his belly, his envoy intuition isn't entirely shut up, sensing the feet of feet behind them, the weight of one firm on the ground as movement creeps up behind him. he turns swiftly in tune with his senses and quickly snags the man by the wrist, halting the swing that would have slammed the bottle directly on his head.
so much for a peace offering. curling his free fingers into a fist, he curves it into a swing, knuckles meeting the man's face, forcing him to stumble back. ]
no subject
when the fight breaks out, it's more expected than a shock. believing that man to simply let himself be told off would have been too much credit to his character, and so the startled shout she lets out is more over the sickening sound of kovacs' punch landing square where he wants it, a stream of green blood flying through the air in its wake. the man stumbles, stunned —
in that split-second marta has a miraculous moment of common sense and she takes her own stumbling steps back, out of the line of fire
— then the man's eyes go red (quite literally) and soon he's charging back for kovacs, throwing himself around the envoy's middle in an attempt to knock him down. ]