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Ironically, Kairatos, who was fairly comfortable with the whole motorcycle scene overall, or at least... with motorcycles, (Which didn't tend to prod at the cardboard stand up that was standing in for the civilian life he could not longer remember.) Definitely didn't blend in. Not even a little.

...It would actually have been fairly hard for him to blend in anywhere but a showing of 300 or maybe Spartacus, but for a man wearing something that appeared to be a strappy leather skirt and a bulls head in mixed metals and horn, he projected an almost ridiculous amount of personal confidence. Maybe less ridiculous if you had the ability to feel magical power, the way he and Titan did.

Although to be fair it was sort of funny, even Kairatos would admit, to see a man dressed in something that passingly resembled Roman armor riding a Kawasaki with a red and white paint job. It wasn't maybe the most practical choice for his uniform, but on the other hand, it was faster than going by roof top, and he really didn't find the ability to jump between buildings quite as novel as he had initially.

He pulled up a respectful distance from the enormous Captain, turned off the motorcycle, and turned an thin, impish smile on Titanlåvenite matched by an glimmer in his unremarkably olive green eyes that suggested he was waiting for the moment to tell Titan a particularly humorous joke.

Titan was the first real encounter with an agent of the Negaverse, rather than a youma, that he had encountered since he had changed sides, and he was damn well looking forward to seeing what happened.

"I always used to prefer the race track." He confided, with amusement. "But I gotta admit the place has atmosphere."

He leaned forward, resting one arm across the handle bars, trying to conceal the fact he was slowly tensing to spring into action, his fingers slowly curling into the weighted net at his side.

"Tell you what. How about for tonight we just enjoy the atmosphere. I'll buy you a beer, we split some wings and watch some other idiots bang heads instead of us, and I sure as hell won't tell anyone we did anything but clash."

He was definitely not Camelot.

... Yeah. Yeah he had no idea how Camelot did this and HOLY ******** NUTS THIS WENT SO DIFFERENTLY IN HIS HEAD.

He had absolutely not planned on the goddamn sledge hammer. And he had apparently forgotten the cardinal rule of not forgetting that magical strength superiority was not the same thing as an automatic ability to kick a** on all opponents.

He'd once taught Castor something about that and this Giant was apparently the universe giving him a pop quiz to remember the lesson.

Out loud of course this all looked and sounded a bit different.

"Are you k-" he started, eyes saucer sized before he lost the game of chicken and threw himself off his motorcycle in an undignified lurch to the back and side, the head of the bull and his breast plate protesting in a metallic fashion. Against a blade he'd trust it, but against that hammer, he was honestly afraid of having his ribs knocked in, savagely. As the hammer banged down somewhere out of sight he made for his feet in haste.

"I will... I will NOT kneel." He thought that was what the huge man meant by 'take the knee'... "And we do not have to be enemies unless you make me. I've stood where you are!"

He had no idea if he was even being heard, and he clutched the net, trying to calculate a path to tangling those massive arms. Maybe use his magic... see who 'took the knee' then.

Holycrap this guy had to be kidding. He just... yeah. yeah he did that. And apparently he, personally, wasn't doing a great job at convincing the guy that they didn't have to fight, which honestly would have made this a lot easier than dodging 600 pounds of gorgeous motorized machine, which was a bit less gorgeous when it landed, crashing down far too close for comfort as Kairatos whirled to dodge and scramble to his feet.

"Y'know..." The line might have sounded snappier if it weren't spoken in haste as he concentrated on the situation. "I hate multiple choice. I'd rather make up my own answer."

His plan was risky, but he'd rather risk being in reach of those massive arms than keep playing dodge cycle. Seriously this guy had NO respect for a work of art.

He moved fast, not a natural sprinter per se, but he ran miles, rather than lift weights usually, and he was really looking forward to seeing how things went down if he count bring his net and magic to bear on the situation. Maybe the guy would actually listen to him.

He dashed for Titan, not in a straight line, but a jagged path through and over the parked bikes, net clenched in his fists.

"I gave up kneeling for the Negaverse already!"

"********."

It was, at least, a creative combination of swear words as Kairatos' charge was briefly stopped so that he could pretty literally hit the deck as the new airborne motorcycle smashed into the one he had just barely cleared, so close that parts of it screeched over the back of his breastplate as he dropped. He was pretty sure a few sharper edges carved themselves against his bare arms, but he was so wired up he barely registered the damage as more than a vague stinging wetness where long lines began to bleed that would burn and hurt like fire later, or possibly blister, if the motorcycle had been recently ridden and still hot.

"Stop ******** throwing motorcycles and I'll tell you!"
Frikin' Andre the goddamn Giant...

"Seriously man, these are some goddamn works of art you're tossing around!"

Maybe. Just maybe he could get this down without being hit full on with a motorcycle. Maybe he didn't have to bring it down to a close hand fight and pray his magic and strength were enough.

Kairatos actually rose into the blow, bulls head forward, the bronze... or something like it... bulls head taking the hammer like an animal at the slaughter house and denting with a bell like clang that almost muffled the sound, almost wet branch like, of breaking bone.

The bull itself actually warped and deformed, one of the horns tilting drasticly inward toward the other, but it was a sacrificial move designed to take an even bigger risk and rough thick cords rope whipped around toward Titans wrists and the handle of his hammer, even while Kairatos almost dropped back to his knee from pain.

"You Kneel." He snarled, through teeth gritted so hard they were almost ready to crack.

The impression that Titan was getting in the throws of Kairatos magic and the reality of what was going through Kairatos's head were slightly different.

His teeth were gritted, and red and white dots of light flashed in his eyes, and he let the hammer fall to the pavement, still half tangled in the net in his still good hand.

"You don't... have... to do this." He managed through gritted teeth, his shoulder in so much pain that he was all but breathless. He wanted to take the bulls head off, but then again, he was almost sure that was the only thing keeping it from being worse.

"You. Have. ... A choice. I..." He wanted to say more, to explain more to the Giant who was now scrambling in terror. "... I used to be Realgar."

He didn't have the concentration to go into more detail. No long elaborate speech right now.

"You... you have the right to choose. Go. Think. Find me when you want to know more..."

By which time he was hoping his bones would have set, and he was also hoping that he'd have had the chance to get someplace with medical care. Maybe Asclepius was on duty tonight. Maybe he'd be there before it sunk in on Tiny that he'd done more damage than he seemed to currently realize.

Maybe he'd at least be out of sight before he did something humiliating like throwing up.