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National Guard, while they may be doing their job and have good intentions in mind, Castor was getting sick and tired of having to watch his every move for fear of being shot at told to 'FREEZE!'. It was becoming all very cliche and tiresome. He'd figured that the red light zone would be alright as far as having a lesser risk of running into the armed forces. Just the opposite in fact. Because it was so known for crime the men patrolled regularly, to keep the crime in such areas down.

It did mean however, that the less traveled suburban streets were almost devoid of life. A few small spots of men wandered, but it was clear they didn't expect any uprising or massive riots to break out. Still, every 10 minutes or so a patrol unit would drive down the road, ever vigilant. Castor understood the why, but he still didn't like it. Youma were slinking in the shadows, as if waiting for orders. A few nights ago Castor had been forced into action when a pair of the Guard found themselves confronting one such monster. Thankfully it had been a weak one, allowing Castor to take it our from afar on the roof tops with his hail. Once it was dead, Castor left, just narrowly avoiding being tracked and possibly captured for questioning.

In the sparse suburban areas, you could always hear a scream, but it seemed that senshi legs could move faster then armored trucks.

So much for protecting the peace.

Eloquence had never been Castor's strong suit. So when confronted by the jolly blond giant that was a nega agent, he let out a very loud and audible "********." Jumping backwards, he landed well out of range, thank god. "Listen d**k face, I'm not in the mood to hand you an a** kicking tonight. So go back to your man slut of a queen and tell her that Sailor Castor thinks she should go back to milking cow and not cocks." Castor might have been saving that insult. He might have been saving it for a long while. It was one he memorized and planned to use on someone who looked more intelligent then a rock but really.

He saved members of the armed forces that night and in thanks, they got ready to shoot at him. Not fun, not fun at all. No gratitude these days.

"Nice paperclips by the way, what are you going to do? Poke me to death?" The fists and hulking frame said otherwise. "Now bugger off you ugly t**t."

He'd never been fisted before. He never intended be be fisted at all. Ever. Never. Never ever. That was how Castor felt about this negadouche's ideas of torture. Very homoerotic and meant for a b-rated hentai film. Something like that. Things Castor never wanted to be apart of. On the list of things Castor never ever wanted to be apart of were a** kickings. He'd gotten his fair share due to Hillworth and senshi work. But most of those times it was a case of wrong place at the wrong time. Or so he liked to tell himself. So when negahulk came charging at him, Castor was good on the idea that he could get a battle in. This one probably deserved it.

Waiting for the right moment of the agent's charge, Castor jumped. As in, jumped directly over and on top of him using him like a kickstand to fling himself across the field.

Landing, Castor wasted no time in give the guy a small taste of his senshi mojo. "Stinging Storm."

Ow. ********. Ow. ********. OW. ******** did not like getting a black eye. Not in the slightest. It was by pure dumb luck that the upercut missed his chest and got his arm instead. Which would bruise. It happened. A lot. Castor blamed his Hillworth diet, even if it didn't really contributer that much to sheer dumbassery on his part.

Kicking upward, Castor was of the mind set that this guy was going to be one of those types. The type to be the black knight and not stop until he was nothing but a bloody stump on the ground.
"Hey!" No, that was bad. Bad, bad bad. "Hey you kids!" Looking over, Castor cursed. Some idiot officer was trying to play hero. Why is it they had the worst timing? Last thing castor needed was bullet wounds. You never wanted a bullet wound. They always had to get reported and filed by police.

Just more trouble then it was worth.

One second. That was how long it took for Castor to react to the sight of the negaverse agent dig into the chest and pull out the starseed. Eyes had grown wide, his body was moving of it's own accord, propelling himself up and forward. The starseed was that man's life. Without he, would die. No ifs, ands, or buts. Castor was too far to stop Cobaltocalcite. He couldn't reach the man in time to prevent the starseed's removal.

The man was going to die and it was his fault. Anger and rage welled up at this.Then, horror. The lieutenant was eating the man's starseed. He was eating a starseed. No, that was- it was-

All of his emotions rang out to stop him. To stop him before it was too late. too late for what, Castor was unsure, but he felt his thoughts, his feelings, everything gather.

And he let them crash down in the only way he could. "STINGING STORM!"

This had never happened before.

Castor was unsure of what had just happened. It was the unthinkable in so many ways. He'd always failed to get this far. But...it was what he wanted right? I was what was needed. It was his duty. His job.

This had never happened before.

Realizing the glowing starseed was still laying on the ground harmless, outside of the officer's body, it was enough of a sight to propel the hail senshi forward, stepping over the still warm body of Cobaltocalcite. His fingers were still flexable. Moveable. Like the officer was asleep. But he wasn't. Castor had seen someone die before, he knew that vacant look in a person's eyes. Eyes that even now, he knew the would haunt him, enemy or not.

Starseed was in his hands, warm, out of place. If it was instinct or the past information that send to to crouch by the fallen police officer and push the glowing crystal back into the man's body, Castor wasn't sure. But the officer was breathing again, his heart was beating again. The starseed had been returned in time. Just enough time.

"Hey!" Move of Destiny City's finest. Always the last to arrive on the scene. It must have been an unusual sight. One terrorist down, another over the unconscious body of your fellow officer, who seemed to be slowly regaining his sense. One officer belted his gun, the others had their own still drawn. Castor could almost not find his voice. "He should be fine." His voice was quite, unsure. "Back off boy! You-" Castor was standing, moving slow. He didn't want to be shot at. He left the waking officer on the ground, as another came forward to check for a pulse. The one terrorist was dead. "Don't move." Guns were aimed at him, Castor wasn't about to.
The one officer checked his comrade. "He's awake. Doesn't look to be-"
"He should be fine." Castor's voice cut the officer off. He was louder this time.
The ones with the guns seemed unsure. One terrorist was dead, another had...helped their fellow man? Confusion was identifiable on their faces. Guns were still pointed. Castor had just a little magic left. Just enough.
"Stinging Storm."

The ice caught them by surprise. A shot was fired. A sting across his arm.

When the hail stopped, the body had begun to cool, the other, had already fled.