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Foramen's recent passion for patrol was not the result of any new-sprung desire to protect the citizens of Destiny City. Nor was he concerned for the fate of his fellow senshi. For once, it wasn't even a desire for more starseeds. Foramen was hunting someone.

Every night he was out, prowling the rooftops and peering into dark alleys. The Negaverse was either lying low, as simply not as prolific as the group of 20+ senshi Astraea had gathered so far. Foramen had yet to spy any member of the dark group, let alone the brown-leather-clad girl who'd broken his arm.

The night was more than half over and Foramen was almost prepared to pack it in. He need to get some sleep, after all. Maybe just one more lap of the neighbourhood...

From his position on the rooftops (feeling like the goddamn Batman), Foramen paused and watched a girl with a bow and arrow stroll calmly down the middle of the street, then stop and lean against a building. Foramen studied her carefully. Her outfit was less psycho-Halloween than the Negaverse members he'd met so far, but he didn't think normal people wandered the street after midnight with bows and arrows.

Her positioning made it hard to do this from above, like he preferred. Giving a shrug, he leaped off the roof, landing neatly a few metres away from the girl. He'd just have to trust in himself to be able to teleport out of the way of her arrows. Hopefully he'd be fast enough, but it was a risk he was willing to take.

"Negaverse, I take it?" he calmly inquired. "I wonder if you'd know the location of a teammate of yours - dresses like a crazy Indian in frayed brown leather, carries a mask, total psycho b***h?"

"Unfortunately, you're the chattiest Negaverser I've met so far. No one else has bothered to introduce themselves before throwing weapons around," Foramen shrugged. Jesus Christ, if he knew the b***h's name, didn't this one think he would have said already?! He was beginning to think that no one in the Negaverse was chosen for their brains.

"Like I said, dresses like an American Indian, uses a mask as her weapon. If you do come across her, let her know I'm looking for a rematch." Though the chances of that didn't seem great. Foramen was just going to have to keep searching for her himself.

One eyebrow raised as his outfit was brought into this. "... Thank you?" This girl was full of random comments. Well, not like he'd had a proper conversation with anyone from the Negaverse before. "Your outfit seems less psychotic than those of your teammates," he offered. "I could hardly tell you were from the Negaverse at all. Shouldn't you be attacking someone, or something?"

Foramen noted down the name ‘Sassolite’ against an image of this girl in his head. Very strange name, he’d have to Google it later. It didn’t sound like a star, which was what Google had returned against a search for ‘foramen’ (Google had also asked if Kirin meant ‘for a man’ and suggested several gay dating sites, but the less said about that, the better).

He was considering not returning the introduction, but several quick calculations couldn’t see any problems arising from it. It wasn’t like he was stealing from this one, and if he wanted the arm-breaking psycho to be able to find him, maybe a name would help with that. “Sailor Foramen,” he eventually said, raising a hand in a sloppy salute-wave type of gesture. “Feel free to drop the ‘sailor’ part.”

Long introductory phrases and poses never even occurred to him. It was strange enough for him to be dropping down to talk to a Negaverse agent face to face – normally he wouldn’t bother, so the idea of taking even longer to introduce himself was anathema to him.

When Sassolite basically prompted Foramen to attack her, he raised an eyebrow. She wanted him to try and kill her? Well, he could... Certainly Astraea had been very sold on the idea of killing all Negaversers during the giant meeting. It just didn’t help that Foramen’s one attack wasn’t exactly offensive. Not quite defensive, either, he supposed, but there wasn’t much that moving someone two or three metres in any direction could do – unless he was dropping them onto spiked stakes or something. He took an idle look around the street, wondering if there was anything like that around here.

Oh great, fist fight for the guy with the damaged arm? It might not be quite 'broken' anymore (being a senshi was good for something), but it wasn't fully healed, either. Not to mention this girl had at least a full foot on him. There was really no advantage for him here.

He sighed. But his only other option was teleporting around and hoping to get a physical hit in anyway.

"Sure, fine," he agreed. Of course he meant to use his powers as soon as an advantage showed itself. Even if Sassolite had seemed trustworthy (which he doubted, seeing as how she was with the Negaverse), he'd still have lied to her face and planned to cheat as soon as he could.

"En guarde, I guess," he gave a lazy shrug. An instant later he was speeding in closer, his uninjured fist pulling back to swing at her face.

A hiss escaped clenched teeth as Foramen's fist shot by Sassolite's face, mere millimetres from connecting. Not that distance meant anything in a fight - a miss was a miss, whether by an inch or a mile. His overbalancing as a result meant he didn't have time to dodge the hit coming for him, though his momentum did carry him past it slightly, so the strike was more to his side as he stumbled past. With a curse, he pivoted on one leg, kicking the other out at the back of her knee.

She wasn't bad, this one. No seasoned fighter, but then neither was he. Most likely a stalemate. At least until someone got lucky... or someone cheated.

Foramen wasn't bringing out the big guns just yet, though. He needed to feel this girl out, see how she moved, if she left any openings, work out exactly what he was up against and how to best deal a heavy blow.

"That all you got?" he taunted.

He scoffed as Sassolite paused and took a breather before insulting him. Waiting her out, he advised, "You're not in a position to say who is or isn't a challenge, you know. I'd say that I hoped you were better with your bow and arrows than you are with your fists, except considering your arrows are suction-capped, you must be the most useless archer in the world."

That was enough idle chatter. Foramen darted forward again, then ducked low to aim a punch at her stomach.

The girl's foot kicked out between his legs. Foramen went down.

His body was overtaken by the pain, unable to register anything except that one, abused area and he collapsed to the ground. Loud wheezing filled the air, Foramen's brain confusing the debilitating pain with being winded. Sadly, gulping down air did nothing to ease this situation.

When his body finally began to respond to his commands once again, Forman lifted his head from the pavement. "You... b***h," he choked again. "When I... get up..." All bets are off.

s**t, how had she even noticed he was male? No one else had yet. Still, it was only a matter of time, he supposed. And all the more reason to tear her to pieces once he got on his feet again.