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"Pompom clown shoes?" His brow quirked as he glanced down momentarily to the so-called pompom shoes. While he was not exactly an expert as to the reasoning, he did know his shoes had a cultural origin of their own. Part of being there to "defend the Earth" was probably embracing their military cultures. Did he care?

Eh. "I could stick them on your a** with a good kick." He repositioned, pointing the spear in her direction. "Get a pom-pom stuck to that stupid little bow that you senshi have attached to your a**."

Second time for her magic. Was she just going to keep hitting him with that itchy, burning irritant until he left?

... Meh. He'd had worse. Nothing could quite beat the way Cybele's grip had quite nearly broken his hand, or the way that damn maid burst out of nowhere to get him to hand over the starseed, or the way Myrrha had made everything smell like liquid s**t--

... Why was the agent looking at Ancha like that?

Borax chuckled through the way his throat burned. Hers would be a nice replacement.

Zachariah backed up slowly, watching the agent in a way that hopefully didn't innately come off as suspicious. This guy was stronger than Ancha, he had to be. As a civilian, he couldn't tell if the ******** was a captain or a general, but he was holding a spear, and none of the lieutenants he had ever run into had anything even remotely threatening. Ancha had gotten lucky so far, but she was still one of his apparent mentees. Couldn't let her ******** die.

Goddammit.

The unidentifiable captain twirled his spear and pointed it in Ancha's direction. "Red tide, you said? That your power?"

He had a fairly accurate look of how her magic worked now if she somehow slipped away. Red water--the red tide--spread across a limited area and made his skin itchy and made his throat burn. He cleared his throat to rid it of a frog in it as he advanced just a step or two closer. Probably caused by the damn itchiness.

"Gonna take that as is. Got quite a bit of supporting evidence."

Zachariah took this moment to bend down and crouch behind one of the counters. A lot of the civilians had cleared out -- the youma had too, hopefully not to follow them, but he'd deal with that later -- which meant he was probably fairly secure, but he didn't trust this b***h not to immediately notice him and have him categorized or some bullshit. He needed to get somewhere just a bit more private.

The kitchen, maybe?

He crouched as he waddled away. Borax's eyes were still trained on the basic.

Red and orange uniform. Black skin. Braids. "I don't give that information without an even exchange, ma'am." His brow quirked. "Now why would I do that?"

"Mm," Borax seemed to consider this for a moment, or perhaps consider something else entirely. His gaze drifted to the tip of his spear, letting it trace alongside it until he found his eyes trailing back up her body instead. "Don't think asking for clarification on a sphere you already declared is an even exchange with a whole name."

Perhaps he could give her a few pokes before taking her soul.

Just ... a few.

How would the blood stain that white bodice?

"So I'll go with something a little more readily obvious if you can sense my aura. I'm a captain." His brow quirked as he moved his spear to point directly at her, taking another step just a bit closer. "Now if you don't mind."

... Interesting.

That s**t didn't work a third time.

Borax hadn't seen magic outright fail before. Did she not know she only had two shots at it, or had she been expecting something that didn't happen? The first one implied she was poorly trained, but the second implied her magic outright didn't work right. That second one was what caught his attention. Until that moment, he wasn't aware that their damnable magic could just outright fail.

Well. Borax smirked, readying the spear to finally get to run someone through. If she was a failed senshi, then he might-as-well just kill--

She beamed him right in the forehead.

"What the <********>" Really? A plate? God ******** dammit. He didn't want to see his own blood-- "Fine, red tide b***h."

Borax was done playing with his meal. He broke the distance lightning fast, aiming to uppercut her with the blade.

The chair came flying for his body, but he was more prepared this time, quickly swinging the spear back around in an attempt to use the handle like a bat. To say it was successful was ... middling, at least, and the chair didn't necessarily hit him, but he did succeed in being a rather large target.

The spear's handle was swung hard enough to break some pieces of the chair, and some of that shrapnel hit his body.

What a pain in the a**--

"My height provides me some advantages," he coughed, pursuing after where he saw a body heading toward the counter. "Hard to hide if you're gonna duck behind s**t--"

He didn't care what she was trying to tell him to suck or not suck or whatever the ********. The fact that a basic baby White Moon senshi managed to successfully beam him with a ******** plate had him seeing red--perhaps in a literal sense, but he'd deal with that s**t later. For now, what he wanted to do was get her head on the end of his spear--

What the ******** was she doing?

... s**t.

He heard the sizzle and decided he needed to tuck and roll and get out of the way before she beamed him with something even more annoying, but it was the second scalding hot cup of water that managed to shatter and crack against his arm braces before that entire carafe was flung at him.

That was, of course, before he heard a tired, panting voice behind him, and got surrounded by whirling winds strong enough that it was hard to properly ******** off!" For ******** sake, that was annoying. Too many civilians were scattered because of the commotion, and finding a secure place to actually henshin required finding a location where someone else hadn't decided to scatter off to. Why were people like this? Couldn't they just huddle together like lemmings or something--

Borax coughed as he fought against the storm and the low pressure, pushing against the wind even as it buffeted him and threatened to knock him down. He just had to time this one out. Just had to ... time ... this one out --

He was dripping ******** wet and it burned and he saw the other senshi run toward a back room. He didn't like that. How long was this damn magic going to take before it let him go--

Another chair smacked his back through the wind, and he whipped around to glare at the source. Why did that make him dizzy?

For ******** sake, this s**t wasn't worth it. As the storm faded, he quickly groused, "I'll be back for the red tide b***h later," before disappearing, leaving Hydor glaring at empty space.

"Yeah," because what else would he be? Besides for playing a game of chicken with nosy panicked people, he really didn't have a single damn person to worry about. Even that damn captain had vanished before he could really do much more than drop a cyclone and then chuck a chair at him.

... This place looked like a ******** mess.

"We should probably ******** scatter before they get footage to accuse us with, though," groused Hydor, pinching the bridge of his nose. Did he care? No. Did he want to go to jail for causing a mess and scaring a bunch of people out of a cafe?

... Would it be a better place to live than his hovel of an apartment--

No, no, that was enough. Also ******** cafes. You need some first aid or some s**t."