Welcome to Gaia! ::

Gamma clamped his teeth down, inhaling through the cigarette. Brightening the cherry at the tip of his cigarette before speaking.

Some people.

He could feel it growing. This guy not taking the hint, generally being an a*****e, Gamma felt himself start to get pissed off. Bringing his right hand back up with a fist clenched around the small black lighter. Knuckles covered in mounds of darkening scar tissue. Bringing a short flame up between the two of them. Ze'ev would have to come forward for the light if he wanted it.

"Really? No wonder; the way you just go around stiff arming people was a pretty good hint, huh?" Gamma said as a small angry smile started to curl the side of his mouth.

No, Gamma didn't notice the irony.

The fact that Ze'ev was prefectly cool with things only infuriated Gamma more. Something made Gamma want Ze'ev to make the first move before trying to beat him silly. But he had just given the guy a cigarette and a free light.

Not one to be all that subtle with his emotions, Gamma's eyes narrowed. Giving a very slow and slight nod, Gamma stuffed the lighter back into his pocket and stepped forward. Just to the side, like Gamma was going to move around Ze'ev.

But Gamma stepped into Ze'ev, shoulder first. Not one to learn quick all that much, he was hoping to shoulder Ze'ev aside.

"Pfft." Spewing smoke from around his cigarette, Gamma gave him a rather angry 'no s**t' look.

Twice.

"People are walking, a*****e. Not all of us wanted to be some giant traffic cone when we were little."

That said, Gamma kept his close proximity. Everyone else probably just walked around them or went somewhere else entirely, so Ze'ev obviously wasn't in the way.

Gamma didn't care whether or not he was intimidating. He was, in a sense, brutally- almost stupidly honest.

Gamma was, to say the least, easily goaded. Already face to face and shoulder to shoulder with Ze'ev, there wasn't a whole lot more Gamma could do to threaten him any further.

But it didn't seem all that intelligent to just go to town on someone who obviously wasn't normal. This guy obvious had something up his sleeve, or was cemented to the ground.

Which was true enough, that arm wasn't normal.

Leaning forward ever so slightly, his cigarette's tip passed Ze'ev's own. Giving him a straight solid stare from his plain brown eyes.

"Hey." Gamma said just above a whisper as smoke escaped gradually through his nose and around the cigarette clenched in his teeth.
"When do you plan on getting the ******** out of my way?"

The whole idea of cliche, along with the meaning of the word, was lost on Gamma. It was close enough to spitting in Gamma's face to piss him off. Rolling the cigarette around with his lips he narrowed his eyes. Not from the smoke, from the compulsive habit he had when he was angry.

His impressive stature was playing to a weakness. Standing above his opponent kept Gamma from outright headbutting Ze'ev in the face. Twisting back and to the left, suddenly, Gamma lead with his whole body before firing a doubled right elbow to the side of Ze'ev's face.

Talking could only get you so far when the other person was apparently better at it. Some senseless violence was just what the doctor ordered.

To no surprise, Gamma had been spit on a lot. Tobacco, blood, saliva.

Phlegm.

Abandoning the hit to catch the loogie on his sleeve, disregarding the cost, he kept turning with the recoil. Moving himself to have a good vector to step out of the way. Although the outside blow that was aimed for a kidney would hit Gamma low in the gut.

On a reactionary move from being hit a lot, Gamma accepted the stonefist with a sharp yelp to deflate his lungs and cushion the blow on the diaphragm. Very professional Muay Thai hiss.

Still able to breathe, Gamma stumbled back with the impact, putting a little bit of space. Getting that momentary range adjustment before one final step forward. Leading to take-off.

A jarring, all-or-nothing two-heeled dropkick. Both feet in the air chambered to blast Ze'ev with both combat boots in the chest. Gamma, should he ever retire from soldier-ing, could make a killing as a professional wrestler.

Gamma had a few levels of irritation. Each of which corresponded to how he would fight, what risks he would take, and what condition he'd leave his opponent in. The lower was generally used to smack people around, the ones that he thought could use some lumps on their head.

Generally involving heavy-handed moves to hit hard and make the other person realize what a mistake they made with just one or two blows. But since the other person, for once, showed signs of intelligence and know-how... It really pissed Gamma off even more.

Ze'ev stepped into it, so did Gamma. Taking back from the first hit he received, he was going to move back up against Ze'ev, only to find that Ze'ev had beaten him there.

It'd take more than big showy moves to get anywhere. Leaning forward as Ze'ev came up since he was about to fling himself forward, Gamma crouched slightly and dropped a low guard and took the knuckles with a sweep across his forearms. Beat his groin, for sure.

With all that mass teetering forward, Gamma converted the force into a forward shoulder check. Aiming to get the cleft of his shoulder up under Ze'ev's chest as much as possible and ram him back.

Following through as much as possible, Gamma kept himself going. As close a tackle as possible he wouldn't see the fist coming. Getting bashed over the back of the head brought a general haze to his thinking and launched a fleet of bright glowing stars across his vision.

Bullrushing Ze'ev even after the hit, Gamma grabbed at his opponent in hopes of bringing him down. Left hand going to Ze'ev's right thigh, hoping to hooking around the outside of the knee to bring the leg off the ground. His right going high to tangle itself in Ze'ev's collar and secure a hold high on his body.

Still going forward, pushing like a linebacker against a tackle dummy.