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Handsome- the name Methone called him teasingly, affectionately. From the agent, it was twisted and warped and made him want to lash out. He knew he looked good, but to be called that by one of them, infected with monsters? It made his stomach recoil in disgust. "Stay away from her." His voice at that edge of burning.

No words spared, no witty retorts for this one. He was hate and he was fury. Hail was his power, and in that moment, he embodied exactly what it was. Destructive force.

He didn't care the form she took, what she used to gain power- he'd face it, and like every battle he'd faced, he'd do it head on. Fist closed, coated in thick ice, spikes glittering and fragmenting light as he hissed at his enemy. "Heaven's Fury."

He knew at the thickness of the ice his own arm would come back bloody with lacerations, but he knew better what it would mean for whatever it hit. "It's been a while since I got an actual challenge." He could feel the power from her, and part of him was excited. "But you're nothing like her."

Cinnabar rushed the eternal with near-General speed, her face a crazed mask of fierce enjoyment in the blood to come. Whomever shed it. The youma that flowed through her made it hard to heed the voice of warning sounding in the back of her mind, telling her it wasn't prudent to attack two senshi at once while one of them stood a rank above her. Even with her boost, it was a reckless move.

The way the half-youma moved spoke of years of trained in martial arts, in practical knowledge used against real opponents in real situations. She'd had a gun, and a taser, but bare fists had always been her preferred method of taking down a bounty. It was just so much more satisfying when you did it with your own hands. She darted in close and lashed out at him with her claws, seeking out the holes in his guard, the weaknesses in his stance.

"I'm like no one you've ever met, Pretty Boy." Cinnabar laughed. "Utterly, completely unique."

Her claws aimed for the vulnerable places... eyes, stomach, throat... places with bare skin where she could draw blood.

She hit him, she felt the impact through her claws and fingers and up her arms... but there was no reaction from him. Blood ran red, she could smell it thick and metallic, but he never flinched from it. It was... unnerving. Cinnabar knew how to take a hit, could take one with the best of them, but this man was ice.

Weaker... weaker than who? Whomever he was talking about, they'd made an impression on him and it bit at her pride, to be compared to some phantom she didn't know. How could she compete with something that didn't exist? Her face twisted, inhuman as he pulled his tiara from his head and it began to glow.

I might not be much now, but I will be, Little Prince... wait and see.

Cinnabar jerked back as he swung at her and felt something sear through leather and metal, down through skin and flesh to bone. It burned like nothing she had felt before, like a red hot sword had carved through her nearly from hip to collar bone in one slash, mixed with getting slammed with a wrecking ball. Her momentum and his hit flung her backwards, going down hard with one arm out-flung to stop her fall and the other clutching at her chest and the halves of her ******** b***h..." She wheezed, struggling to draw air again into her lungs and her feet under her. Everything hurt, and it was not just the pain... she could deal with pain. Whatever he had hit her with... It was deceptively strong. In the back of her mind, Baal was roaring with rage and pain and... fear. The fear was the hardest to deal with. She didn't want to tuck her tail and run, but already she felt her consciousness wavering.

"Not done, Princeling..." Cinnabar panted, a clench of her hand scraping cement. "I'll see you... again. And your girl..."

The captain flashed them a fanged snarl before she wrenched herself away, dragging herself into an exhausting teleport to safety.