SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST

@ofishval

– > he’s scrambling to find someone who looked familiar as getting into trouble was something that obviously became natural to him. He crashes into the other mans office, his heart hammering and it could be heard in his ears, but everything else is silent. Small hands grip onto the taller’s pant leg as if to get his attention and he doesn’t take any time to start signing, it’s fast & barely understandable. 

           “..?”

There it is: the long-suffering SIGH of a man who has seen quite enough to understand that the kid’s frantic entrance is never a sign of good things to come. 

He turns to the boy with a raised brow and bends to his height, trying his best not to look too pre-emptively annoyed... But Miles knows that whatever the troublesome lad has done to get himself in such a state, it is now HIS problem to deal with.

Rubbing at his forehead, Miles shakes his head to signal that he’s not catching any of this... He’s trying his best to learn what he can to make communication between them as smooth as possible, but he can’t be expected to understand rapid-fire signing just yet.

[ ok but like i need a military event where everyone from north south east west and central are together and miles just dances with hawkeye help me ]

/whispers; /SHOUTS;

[ miles u smooth mother fucker ]

outofcharacter. Quietly headcanons that the Amestrian side of the Miles family is middle class as fuck and that Miles owes his ability to pass basic training with relative ease (and his adjustment to military life thereafter) to years spent toiling away in dance classes from an early age. 

Instead of using his strength and flexibility for entertainment, he used it to further his military career and can be caught dancing occasionally in his own private quarters. 

          “Careful, now--”

It’s clear in Miles’ tone that his warning is not a SERIOUS one as he trudges through knee-deep snow to make his approach from behind, a playful smile tugging at the corner of the Major’s lips. He takes his rightful place at Olivier’s side, apparently in quite the good mood, even in spite of the news of a storm headed their way.

          “If there’s a sudden shift in the direction of the wind, that sour face of yours            might just freeze that way... Sir.”

He does not oft tease the Major General so, particularly not around others. It is only at times like these -- in the privacy of one another’s company -- that he dares to engage her in any kind of humorous banter. Miles is not the insolent type; he would NEVER risk undermining the worth of his Commanding Officer’s rank and status in the presence of a fellow soldier.

Occasionally, however, he will risk a good tongue-lashing from Armstrong and offer the odd, light-hearted quip in the hopes of raising her spirits... Even if his attempts aren’t always successful. 

Cold and distant she very well may be, but even the Ice Queen herself needs a boost in morale from time to time, and Miles is one of the very few men out there equipped to dish it out. The Major is a good natured, well meaning man at heart -- he knows full well that she would not take his remarks as a serious insult, particularly given all that the two have endured alongside one another. 

His teasing remains brief as he turns to observe the worsening conditions around them, expression taking on a more serious, concerned turn. The two of them really should seek shelter -- and soon.