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If Aegir had known that knocking the Dark Mirror Senshi on her a** would only serve to make her want to destroy him all the more, he probably wouldn't have done it. As it was he was caught holding the tiger by the tail, almost literally; Chariklo wanted to rip him limb from limb now. He could tell because of the way her face was twisted into a mask of rage and hate and the promise of as much pain as anyone could promise.

Well damn. His usual tricks weren't working...and if he let go and tried to use his 'magic attack' again he'd probably pass out. So he held on until the damned things faded from sight and she was able to scream venom at him again. Then he was left to rely on his wits, his flexibility, speed and his hand-to-hand combat skills. "You sure we can't talk this out now?" Colin looked and sounded hopeful, but he was still wary and waiting for her to attack, because she would.

Man, but she was pissed!

Had he not been such a fearless, never-say-die sort, Sailor Aegir might have quailed and quaked under the wrathful glare of the Dark Mirror Senshi, especially since she was making sounds that shouldn't have come from a human. Sounds that he would have expected from perhaps a rabid Honey Badger, not a cute chick with a big rack.

"Jesus, what are you, from the Pit or something!?"

He just knew she was about to make him wish he'd never gotten up that morning, never bumped into her and had just remained a twinkle in his father's eye, so it wasn't really a surprise to hear her scream at him. But while he was trying to decipher the words Chariklo's magic enveloped him, assaulting his ears with a godawful sound like the screeching of sea gulls and battering at his head, shoulders and - when he got his arms up to protect his face - his arms.

"Nng, what the hell? Dammit!" Aegir twisted this way and that, but it didn't help; he nearly fell after losing his balance but caught himself just in time, fingertips almost brushing the ground. He staggered a few steps, noticed that the battering was lessened as the other senshi's magic had to track him and then scrambled into a run, towards the DMC Senshi of Gulls.

Her attack followed him as he barreled his way closer; he was having trouble aiming, so a punch or kick was out, but he could still charge her and maybe run her through, the vindictive little b***h!

There really was no way that this kamikaze-style charge was going to do anything right for either of them, not that it mattered because it seemed both had some "anger" issues. And perhaps some sanity issues as well, but that might as well have been a requirement for someone to become a Senshi (of any stripe).

The gulls attacking him tried to keep pace with a flurry of semi-transparent feathers and noisy squawking, but Sailor Aegir was fast on his feet and he outpaced them quickly, closing the gap between himself and the Dark Mirror Senshi in great strides that were not-quite matched by the ones Chariklo was making herself.

Chariklo and Aegir came together with a heavy-thud that jarred his teeth, all fists and elbows and snarling, flashing teeth. For a moment they probably looked like they were in one of those bad 90's movies, the kind where two people that might not like each other came together for angry, violent make-outs. But with less kissing or scratching and more actual fisticuffs.

Oh yeah, it was bad. And stupid looking. Until Sailor Aegir made a stupid mistake that Chariklo quickly took care of - he should have known better. Anything that would put such a happy look on her face was definitely going to be extremely unpleasant. With the up-close fighting he'd widened his stance, which gave the busty Dark Mirror Senshi the opportunity to bring her knee up sharply into his unprotected groin.

Sailor Aegir's face went white and he made a very un-manly sound of absolute agony, doubling over as pain radiated from his groin and caused his vision to darken. It took every ounce of his will-power to stay on his feet, to stagger back and try to put some distance between himself and Chariklo if he could.

She'd probably enjoy the pathetic, wheezing sounds he was making, the b***h.

Chariklo was horrible. Aegir hissed at the busty blond as she followed his limping progress away slowly, "Dirty pool." Not that she'd care or that calling her out on it would make any sort of difference, he just couldn't help himself. He had to do something other than scrabble away brokenly with his tender bits aching like a demon.

"..." He couldn't answer her taunting if he wanted to stay on his feet, if he wanted any sort of chance at not falling onto his face or fainting. Not that it really mattered in the greater scheme of things; the Dark Mirror senshi was grinning like a shark again, no doubt very happy to be able to take further advantage of his stupidity.

Chariklo lunged, elbow flying, and while Aegir could see the attack coming, he didn't have the ability to do more than try and twist to avoid some of it. The sharp point of her elbow caught him just under the diaphragm, forcing what little air he'd been able to get right out in a whoosh.

The last thing Aegir heard before the creeping darkness of oblivion took him was the blond's saccharine-sweet voice in taunt: "Time to say goodnight, pretty boy."

Some time later, the senshi would come to tied to a tree with strips of his own damned uniform and the ties on his shoes. Every part of his body ached like a demon-donkey was trying to kick it's way free; it took him a bit of straining to get free...and then he realized he could have just powered down. There were - luckily - no Chaos energy signatures near and no civilians were wandering about, so it would have been fine.

Aegir just hadn't been thinking properly. Rubbing his wrists gingerly, the senshi of silence powered down and felt his entire body flood with exhaustion (on top of the pain). Moving made choice bits flare with sun-bright pain that caused him to stagger and retch violently. 'Damn that Dark Mirror girl! Next time I see her...'

By focusing on his anger and breathing, Colin was able to bring his mind and body into some semblance of workability. He was used to pain - ballet dancers were always in pain, or they were dead - but this went above and beyond the norm. Moving made his stomach twist in a most unpleasant fashion, but somehow (fueled by pure stubbornness, most likely) the blond managed to get himself home, get some asprin and an ice pack and then get into bed.

'Next time...you're the one going down!' And once more that day, oblivion took him into her arms.