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The heat was almost enough to keep Proustite from powering up. Almost, but not quite. The pants of his legs were snug around his thighs. The sleeves of his jacket were too long-- and his boots, in the name of Metallia, his boots. They were black and heavy, lined with a cloth that made his feet sweat. He did not know who was responsible for the way that his uniform looked- the degree of variance in outfit from agent to agent was so extreme that there seemed almost no regulation at all. Cinnabar wears almost nothing. Titan has a skull on his shoulder. Moonstone...

The corners of his lips curled upwards at the thought of the other Captain. Proustite checked the bridge of his nose with his fingers. It was swollen, still, from the last time she'd broken it.

He reclined in the front seat of an Iced Cream truck, sucking happily on the end of a bright pink popsicle. The doors were closed, but unlocked. There were no lights on inside the vehicle. It was parked in the middle of a Wal-Mart lot.

The body of the Iced-Cream-Man lay on the floor in the back. Neck snapped.

One of his best songs came on the radio. Proustite made an excited sound and leaned forwards to crank the volume.

"I come home in the morning light," he sang, popsicle still in hand, "my mother says when you gonna live your life right~"

So complacent was Proustite -so confident and self-assured- that that he did not start at the arrival of a second power signature. They were common place in Destiny City. Sailor scouts and their merry knights swarmed the metropolis like mosquitoes, and Proustite was minding his own business. He wasn't hurting anyone-- presently, that was. There was no reason for anyone to bother him.

Only they did.

He straightened in the front seat when Beringia interrupted him, popsicle dangling limp between his fingers. Cindy Lauper continued over the radio.

Proustite smiled. He stood up -George Clooney casual- and moved towards the back of the Ice Cream Truck, stepping over the fallen Ice Cream Man as though his body was little more than dirty laundry. He reached for the doors that Beringia had opened.

"Sorry," he said, pulling the doors shut, "we're closed."

There was no answer.

There appeared, in fact, to be nobody in the vehicle at all- save for the body of the fallen Ice Cream Man.

Proustite had not lingered after closing the back doors. In the time that it took Beringia to decide that he would, in fact, continue to be a pain in his a** Proustite had moved to the front of the truck. He held his breath. Waited. And then slithered out the driver's door the moment the knight lifted his leg.

There was no time to shut it behind him.

He considered running away. Suspected that he could not move fast enough. Proustite crouched low, popsicle clamped between his lips, and sneaked around to the front of the truck. He was careful to stay out of sight- beneath the windshield.

He waited. Listened. Wished, belatedly, that he'd thought to turn the key in the ignition and kick the truck into reverse.

Crouched low like a ninja, Proustite slipped around to the other side of the truck when Beringia stepped foot back on the ground.

He was careful about the weight of his shoes on the asphalt. Managed not to make a sound - until, of course, he tried opening the passenger side door to get back inside and the hinges creeaaaaaaaaaked.

Ordinarily it wouldn't have been a very loud sound. Given the current context, however, Proustite might as well have shot off a gun.

He swore under his breath, pivoted on foot - intending to make a break for the nearby Wal-Mart.

"I found him like that," Proustite drawled, arching off the ground because -- "I think you broke my ******** back."

He'd landed hard on his spine. Spluttered to get the air back into his lungs.

"He probably choked on a lollipop."

Swearing under his breath, Proustite swiped at the side of Beringia's head with what remained of his popsicle; squashing the melting ice against his ear.

Proustite lingered for just a moment - just long enough to watch the other man wipe at the side of his face.

"I hope you get an ear infection."

And then he vanished out from underneath Beringia, teleporting himself to relative safety somewhere far away.