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The crowd was almost more of a living creature, with individual race goers for it's cells than just a collection of men, women, and the occasional child. Even higher up in the stands they seemed to react as though responding to the nerve impulse of a central brain.

The smell of sweat, oil, and alcohol, mostly overpriced beer, permeated the stands, with an perfume of grilled hotdogs and chicken. Food that was easy to pass out and customize with a quick squirt of condiments.

The high energy levels, and the beer, were two of the big reasons Realgar had come here to do some of his first real 'hunting'. After all, very few people really noticed too much if the guy beside them, who was on who knew what beer, had quietly passed out and started snoring, and the attention on the track was too strong for most people to notice that in many cases, his touch had preceeded their colapse.

Those who did notice him assumed he was one of the racers, in his black and orange leathers, possibly waiting for the open racing that would start after the paid racers got done.

Watching them made his stomach churn, and the corners of his mouth twitch with an only barely controlled fury and envy. They should have been right, after all, it should be him down there, riding the screams of the crowd, and he was determined that he would get back there. Right now though, there was the grunt work to be done. Like making endless practice laps, just to get the feel of a machine, the greater machine of the Negaverse needed energy, and right now they needed a lot of it, and they wouldn't be tolerating him coming back empty handed.

Come back with star seeds, if you can't steal energy... that had been the order. Not as renewable, but faster.

He wasn't entirely wrong in assuming that no one would notice him skirting through the crowds on this particular mission, but then again, MOST people in the crowd weren't senshi, and therefore weren't attuned enough to feel the dark energy of a corrupted starseed. His starseed.

The "Nega Jerk" in question was pacing at the moment, pausing in his energy collection (too many people dropping at once would be suspicious, even he could figure that out.) and watching the race track. His heavy boots thumping on the bleachers as he paced, eyes blazing. His weapon wasn't out, which might have made it more difficult to guess exactly how powerful he was, but the energy signature wasn't as distinct as a captain or a general, regardless of how predatory he might currently look with the intense way he was watching the action.

"You're going to crash and burn if you aren't careful you ********..." He snarled, half under his breath, which also might seem briefly like it was directed at Ixion, but he was paying too much attention to the track, and one of the racers on it. "Nega Jerk" was apparently a bit mild for this particular agents vocabulary.

"Goddamn deserve it if you did, the track isn't for idiots." He accused again, though the subject of his wrath couldn't possibly have heard him. He paused then, shoulders going rigid, and let his eyes wander the area, though he was looking for someone a bit older than twelve, which left Ixion with a bit of advantage still in his court.

"Seriously?" He added, in exasperation, which apparently those in the crowd who'd been giving any attention to his ranting passed off as further commentary on the unknown racer in question. "Goddamnit!"

ALL he needed right now was to deal with some sparkly little girl with a Torture-Me-Barbie-and-Ken set, and his bike was out in the parking lot... and it was still his 'day' bike. The other project, mostly assembled from scrap pieces, had far too much work to go before it would even begin to be road worthy, let alone parking lot worthy.

He so did not need this, especially not after getting some idea of what senshi (Specifically the BMC) might be like from Bismuthite.

Against the heavy leather and metal trimming, it took probably longer than was ideal for the coals to start doing enough damage, and create the smoke of torched rubber sole, for Realgar to notice...
and to be immediately thankful that he wasn't wearing something considerably more flammable.

"WHAT THE HELL?" He jerked his foot away, pausing to examine the damage where the coal had melted rubber and scorched leather.

A freaking hot foot? His first run in with a goddamn Senshi and they gave him a hot foot?!

It was hardly the world shaking force of terror that he'd come to expect, but he definitely had to concede that it was damned annoying.

"You chicken s**t little Barbie Clone!"

He was about to kick the coal back under the bleachers when he caught a quick glimpse of Ixions curly black hair, and his eyes widened in obvious surprise. Firstly, most of the examples of senshi-dom he'd seen were girls... second... Second this one was awfully damn young.

"...Are you ******** kidding me?" He demanded, rhetorically. "You're a... what the... seriously are you kidding?"

Someone had pitched a kid who's voice probably hadn't even dropped yet into a WAR? It was like reading one of those National Geographic articles about people using children to carry grenades.

"Go HOME Kid."

"Yeah get out here and make me, Short St---!" He was cut off by small, wirey little hands grabbing his boots and yanking, and the beer slicked bleachers didn't offer the best traction either. Neither did it attract as much attention as he would have thought, as people jumped to their feet to cheer the action down on the track as he slammed down, bruising a rib on another step.

"Kid, you are going to regret this if it's the last goddamn thing I do tonight!" He snarled through clenched teeth. Downed, it was a little easier, ironically, to try and get a bead on Ixion, especially when the kid had his hands on his boots.

Realgar was larger, and now damned angry, and instead of trying to pull away sharply, he slammed a foot forward at Ixion's head and chest area, the attack fueled by the throbbing pain where one of his floating ribs had clipped a step, and by the indignity of getting injured by such a liliputian Senshi.

"Past your BEDtime isn't it?" He demanded, as he kicked out.

He wasn't yet angry enough to consider trying to thread himself under the bleachers and go for Ixion's star seed, but he wasn't that far off either, not the way he and his ego were currently hurting.

Apparently, that wasn't the ideal thing to say, because Realgar snarled and gripped the underside of the bench he was already half underneath, and slipped through. It was tighter clearance for him than it was for Ixion, but he was still slender enough to fit.

"You know what? Sure. I'm the ******** Boogieman." He growled as he landed. His olive green eyes were practically on fire. "Jack, the ******** RIPPER. Ted. Goddamn BUNDY...." He listed, furiously, as he stepped toward the small Senshi.

"I gave you one chance at running, punkass. It's up to you weather or not you beat tracks or your mother gets a very. BAD. Phonecall."

He was trying not to think about that particular detail of his threat, what it would be like to be the parent of someone who lost one of their kids to this, but they'd made their choices when they signed up for this.

Anyway, he was still hoping on some level that the kid would take him at face value and run. Under here he'd certainly be able to get away quickly, he had the height advantage.

"No one's dead tonight... not yet."

Nega's were more known for their boosted strength than speed, which probably made the snap reaction from the furious Negaverse Lieutenant just that much more surprising, as he twisted sideways, shifting his leg just enough to take Ixions kick on the calf instead. It hurt, but not as much as a small, vicious little foot to the knee cap, and his follow up was just as fast.

He didn't bother swearing, but he did lash out with a fist, throwing his weight forward and dropping into a half crouch as he did so, making the swing more on Ixions level.

If this was because Ixion had been pushing buttons, he'd certainly hit one hell of a button!

The explosion of foul tasting coal dust made Realar... well... reel, throwing up an arm in reflexive defense, especially after earlier having gotten a hot foot, but he was fortunate that the worst it did was make his eyes sting and blur as the black grit got everywhere.

"PUNKASS!" He cursed, furiously, trying to wipe his streaming eyes clear as Ixion bolted like a Jack Rabbit. Judging by the stirring from above, Realgar rather thought he might as well. He'd managed to collect energy from the croud, and the little rodent had brought a bit more attention than he'd have liked to what was happening underneath the stands.

Goddamn kid... He didn't remember anyone saying that they came that young, but he certainly wasn't going to forget the kid in a hurry.

-FIN-