starlogs | 【OPEN/CLOSED】☆ WALK THROUGH STREETS OF GOLD WITH CIGARETTES YOU HAND ROLLED

[He's already realised by now, after his own scuffle with Goku earlier in the day, that this district brought out the worst in people. You'd think he'd have left by now after experiencing what kind of shit you could go through with first-hand, but when ever has Gabriel Reyes ever done anything that was good for him.

Maybe at a later date, he'd later consider that his poor decision not to leave right away had been the right one. Especially when he hears the sound of some underhanded brawl happening down one of the sidestreets he's passing in his sour skulk around Ira.

At first, he stops to watch the brawl out of idle curiosity. After a moment, he may even have decided to leave--were he not to recognise the head of one of the brawlers: one who was not having a good go of it at all.

He takes a moment to decide if it's Karamatsu or Ichimatsu, but whichever it was made no real difference on what his actions were next. He knew what the air of Ira could do to a person, and he highly doubted that if Karamatsu wasn't feeling aggravated due to the air of this place, that he'd be brawling it out right now. Brazenly stepping forward, a hand moves out to grab the arm of Karamatsu's opponent, stopping him before he slams another fist into the neet's already bruised and bloodied face. His other hand moves to grab the back of Karamatsu's jacket, hauling him a good foot or two into the air. Effectively stopping the fight long enough for the 'intergalactic opponent' to haul back away from Reaper in shock.]

I think that will be enough fighting today. Won't it? [He turns to look at Karamatsu, dangling in his hand, and then at the small gathered group. His voice a solid echo, smoke leaking out from under his mask.] Don't you all agree?

_{[ What he doesn't expect is somebody to actually intervene. What he didn't expect is to people to actually care that his face was bruised and his nose was almost broken. Being lifted off of the ground was equally surprising as well. His feet kick, stupid cowboy boots flailing in protest, the pointed toe of them possibly hitting against Gabriel or his opponent by mistake.

This was just a deeper look at the surface of his moody attitude in the cafeteria that he, for whatever profound reason, decided to expose to Reaper.

He's jabbering; it's a bunch of nonsense that isn't really worth writing but it's very obvious he isn't exactly okay with what is happening, and ultimately, with himself (but when was that ever new to be honest.)
He pipes down only when he is directly addressed and snorts, for a split second looking very much like Ichimatsu with an alarming hateful look in his eyes. The air was getting to him, yes, but he felt somewhat freed to finally lash out at somebody and something after clamming it up for so long.

It wasn't fair they all had to split up and live their own lives, and Karamatsu felt like the only reason he did it was to make himself look good and not get left behind as he so often did. It wasn't fair they treated him differently.

There's a brief pause— he's very still— but then, arms flailing again: ]}

Oiiii, lemme at'em, I was so close..!
_{[ bro you didn't even hit him you kept missing.. ]}

[It's amazing he's being as patient as he is with this situation--and later, Karamatsu might want to thank Goku for that. Having already gotten his own aggression and built-up savagery out, it was far easier to deal with another's own attempt at getting out all those pent up feelings that were nearly explosive.

Nearly patient.

When he's kicked, he gives Karamatsu a shake, but it does relatively little when the guy's complain of lemme at'em only eggs on his opponent who was, up until this point, enjoying quite the upper hand. The intergalactic foe only agrees, yelling out for Reaper to stop interfering, and that's when he loses what little patience he has left. His grip on Karamatsu's jacket only tightening as his free hand raises up to yank his mask off, giving the gathered group a growling snarl that's effective enough in spooking them to back off.]

Was I not clear enough when I said that was enough? [He barks out, his head raising up, looking down his nose at the brawlers with the face of something that belonged in a R-Rated horror movie, not real life. Karamatsu's opponent is quick enough to back off, and Gabe then turns to shoot his own captive a glare.]

We're going to cool your head. Are you going to walk on your own two feet, or do I have to fucking carry you?

_{[ This whole time, Karamatsu feels his limbs dangling from Reaper's grip, soreness from his busted face really beginning to make his head hurt. Being shaken only earns a trembling noise of distaste, and the second that his friend rips off his mask he cannot help but stare at him.
All of the aggression seeps off of his face and he just looks at Gabriel dumbly— almost sympathetically.
God, he'd hate himself (probably more) if he had something that gruesome for a face and he instantly wonders what caused such a hideous look.
His heart skips when Gabe looks at him and he's still too surprised to really say anything smart (when does he say anything smart anyway) but simply just.. nods in agreement, then instantly shakes his head. ]}

A—ah, I can carry myself..!
_{[ that's his way of begging please let me down, oh god..
Had he not known Gabriel before this instance, he would have also ran from him in fear, but he knows..
Somewhere behind that ugliness, Gabriel cares, and that means more than anything to Karamatsu— somebody who has been pushed around and bullied most of his life. ]}

[As he'd hoped, his actions had not only worked to quiet down the dangerous situation, but it'd also ebbed the willingness to fight between the pair that had been at one another's throats. Part of him would have preferred to have just whipped out one of his shotguns and quieted the fight down that way, but. Being out of ammo left him with few options, but scaring those with the face of a new-aged boogeyman was--to his irritation--always effective.

When Karamatsu quiets down, and mentions he's able to carry himself, he's quick enough to let go of the back of his jacket. Placing the skull-like mask back over his face and making a gesture at the strangers to step off, and for Karamatsu to follow him. He only waits for a minute before looking down at him again, a sneer settling behind his mask, a scoff echoing out with a small whisp of smoke.]

Don't know how to pick your battles, do you.

_{[ what goes up, must come down, and so as soon as Reaper releases him, and lets out a startled yelp and falls to the ground. There, he lies, wondering in the back of his mind if he has blood or dirt on his perfect fashion and it's a stupid moment of worrying about his clothes more than his life. As he lies front first against the ground, Reaper signals for him to follow after and he pushes himself off of the ground, dusting himself off and trotting after his friend, but not without spitting some excess blood onto the ground and giving his laughing opponent one last, hateful look.

Karamatsu's strides are shorter than Reaper's, so he has to almost jog to keep up with his company at first. A plastic comb has found its way in his hand and he's combing his unkempt hair but doing absolutely nothing about his swollen face. ]}

Hmph.
_{[ He looks away, almost as if he was ashamed. ]}

I got mad.

Edited (GOD I CANT TYPE) 2017-03-10 05:49 (UTC)

[He lets the other have his childish little fit, fixing his hair with a comb he had hidden on his body. It really isn't doing anything to help your appearance there, man, your face is busted up and there's blood on your shirt. Not that Reaper's going to offer him a tissue to clean it up or anything. He already plucked Karamatsu's ass out of the fire.

In his opinion, that was more than enough work for the day.]

Noticed. And you decided to get into a scrap with what. The first person to look at you funny?

I get the need to loose some energy, but you were getting your ass handed to you. You look like shit.

_{[ Once his hair is properly combed the best it could be under this condition, he slides the comb back into his ass pocket and falls silent for a moment. He knows he shouldn't fight, but something about the air here really let him release all of his anger that he had been holding back on for so long.
Even with a busted face, he feels the need to dazzle Gabe. So he turns to him and flashes him a forced smile, falling into a pose naturally: ]}

Heh. At least I am high-quality shit.
_{[ why... ]}

[Reaper then reaches over and gives Karamatsu a swat against the back of his head.]

Nice attempt at a save. But you know that shit don't work on me, brat.

[...]

You've already got your weapons and shit figured out by now. Wonder if I should switch your training to show you how to throw a proper punch.

_{[ OW, owowowow. That hurts— watch your strength, Reaper.
He almost protests and complains about being handled so rudely, but he figures he probably deserved it, especially because Reaper had to go out of his way to save his ass.

At the suggestion, though, he huffs and looks up at his friend, wide eyed. ]}

Ah.. would you? I have gotten in plenty of fights when I was attending school, but I am no professional.
_{[ does he need to say it was against his own brothers, or... ]}

I don't offer shit just because I'm bored, Karamatsu. I almost just witnessed you get your face beaten off of you in an alleyway and if you ask me, it was pathetic.

[He draws his hand back, settling back against his side.]

And a scrap between teenagers and a real fight are two different things. You get hit hard enough by someone who knows where to hit you?

You could lose partial eyesight, or worse. Learning how to avoid that shit is key to winning a hand-to-hand scrap.

_{[ Yeah, you don't just offer shit cause you're bored. Karamatsu can understand that— but that just makes this phenomenon even more confusing. Why the hell is Reaper investing time and effort into Karamatsu? He's wondered that from the start. At first glance, Karamatsu thought his tall friend would have nothing to do with him. Reaper is just cool, and somehow, Karamatsu has painted himself with fake gold— to ignore the fact that he's a worthless, shitty nobody, but deep down he knows he isn't cool at all. He admires and adores himself to deny any feelings of low self esteem and self-worth.

For some reason, Reaper wants to help. He knows he's pathetic— all six of them do— but he never thought it would grab somebody's concern.. enough to try and shape him into something else. Nobody back home cared, why do these people in space seem to? ]}

Then show me.
I want to be strong.
_{[ —for once. ]}

[It's simple, even if Karamatsu doesn't realise it himself. He's even said it to the guy before--he sees Karamatsu as a 'hopeless case', and much like the others he used to train back in Blackwatch, he felt the need to do something about it.

Even a kid who couldn't manage to shoot straight should learn how to defend himself.
Even an adult who didn't want to hurt someone should know how to keep himself from getting hurt.

And that's pretty much all there was to it. They were on the same ship together, people were dying--the last thing he wanted to see were more civilians dying for stupid reasons like not being able to defend themselves.]

A want to be strong and actually putting forth the effort are two different categories of will.

We'll start on basic combat training starting next week.

Get yourself a mouth guard.

_{[ Both Reaper and Sombra (and Carolina, though she probably wouldn't admit it either) seemed so keen on helping him out here. Back home, nobody would have cared— not even his family— for his safety and well being. Karamatsu had to encourage himself everyday since he couldn't get that from anybody else but himself. Maybe that's why he tried to act so confident all the time was to hide the fact he wasn't confident at all.

He can't help but feel smug about it— about Sombra escorting him to get a lethal weapon; escorting him out of Ira (which, by the way, he didn't exactly leave right away). About Carolina showing him how to use his gun on their ~*~*date*~*~ or how Washington went running with him early in the mornings.
And now, Reaper really wanted to teach him close combat.. after saving him from something that could have killed him.

He smirks, lips coated with dried up and wet blood: ]}

The only guard I'll ever need is one for my flighty heart.
_{[ this is stupid........ he'll get a mouth guard, ok he's just trying to sound cool.. ]}

【OPEN/CLOSED】☆ WALK THROUGH STREETS OF GOLD WITH CIGARETTES YOU HAND ROLLED

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