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The night had been a rough one.

Sailor Taranis took out a massive trashcan youma that scaled the side of a building to try to finish him off early in the night. It fell to its death, thankfully, before taking a chunk out of him. Then he got ambushed by a snake youma that wrapped itself around him thirty minutes later. It latched on until he beat it senseless with the lid of a manhole. The senshi of sand was actually on his way home when the newest youma crawled out of the shadows and tackled him.

It was hard to see much, but everywhere he grabbed, Sailor Taranis felt fur and fat. He landed one punch and sent it staggering background. This did two things:

1) He saw that the youma he was fighting appeared to be a giant ******** grizzly bear.
2) He managed to rocket off one strangled Sand Blast! right into the thing's face.

It sputtered and hissed, knocked back down by the impact. Sand exploded across its body, catching in the fur. The sand must have landed in the creature's eyes because it swung wildly. The first swipe missed, but the second hit him squarely in the chest. Taranis was lifted off the ground and thrown ten feet across the narrow stretch of ******** a**," he murmured, struggling to his feet. The youma was on him before he could stand, tossing him again. Taranis reacted faster and made a lunge of his own, but the bear youma lifted him up, pointed rows of teeth glistening in the moonlight. One hand was caught, and so Taranis did the first thing that came to mind.

He slapped the bear in the face like it was a prostitute late on its dues.

The bear youma seemed just as insulted by the slap to the face as Castor was to see it. Sailor Taranis didn't really have time to give a flying ********. He was busy trying not to get killed. His open palm squeezed close, and he swung a punch.

Just as the youma dropped him.

He fell with a heavy thud, gangly arms and legs crumpling around him. "Goddamnit," he muttered, staggering to his feet. "******** youma bear." Given the small window of non-attack, Taranis was able to evaluate his impromptu battle buddy. The cocky taunting reminded him of the male senshi in a skirt he'd met the night Tanzanite dug her stiletto into his shoulder. These were not pleasant associations to make. There was a strong energy signature coming off of the other menshi, but Taranis wasn't sure what that meant.

His patience ran out. "Stop jerking it around and just ******** attack it! Pretty sure the youma can't appreciate your stunning wit." Grateful, he was. Clearly.

Sailor Taranis adjusted his gloves and scowled. He could feel the remaining magic of his attack lingering in his arms. From experience, he'd learned how frequently he could do it too. This meant Taranis knew he had another blast in him, but he wanted to save it for the right moment. Especially when partnered with a senshi who seemed more concerned about his witty repertoire than kicking youma a**.

Or so Taranis thought.

This guy was cocky in a way that threatened Sailor Taranis. He was doing just fine on his own. He totally had a plan. Totally.

"I had a plan. You just disrupted it," he said, jumping out of the way of the rolling bear. It was a little funny, but Taranis didn't smile. He had on his serious face. He wore it often.

Standing just behind Castor, Sailor Taranis decided to put his money where his mouth was. Magical attack, eh? He would show him the fierce power of his magical attack! Striking his offensive stance, Taranis swelled his arms and shouted, "Taranis Sand Blast!" He darted a few paces in front of Castor.

Too bad he didn't realize Castor was about to attack too. Both menshi swelled with magic, releasing their attacks in tandem on the bear youma. The ball of swelling sand spun on his fingertips like a top. Taranis prepared to throw it just as the first dagger-like shard of hail hit. Quickly followed by another, and another, and another.

The bear youma was caught in it and let out a wail. So was Taranis. He also wailed (well, more like grunted angrily). The sand ball was being broken apart, losing its speed and power-packing velocity, and as he tumbled to the ground, Taranis released it in what he thought was the youma's direction.

It was actually Castor's.

Taranis was pissed, but it was hard to show it when he was being pummeled. The bear youma was pretty pissed too. Difference was, it was also dying. Sort of. It lunged blindly forward, catching Taranis by one boot and pulling him across the pavement. He flipped to his back, took a chunk of hail to the chest, and then kicked it in the face. It gave him enough time to scramble away.

"I AM BEING PELTED BY ******** ICE, OKAY? WAY WORSE." It didn't occur to Taranis that admitting that also admitted that his attack might not be as damaging. He wasn't one to raise his voice, but the situation had been surprising. In a bad way.

Gripping at his wrist, Sailor Taranis shot Castor a glare. "I said I had it under control. In what world does that mean I want you to attack?" He shook the kink out of his wrist, grimacing. Chunks of hail left behind were melting, turning the loose sand on his fuku into mud.

Great.

The bear youma looked pretty ******** up, but it wasn't out for the count, not yet. Sailor Taranis would need a few moments before he could summon up another sand ball. "All right, Captain Ahab, go get your ******** white whale then!" He pointed at the youma.

It did not seem to care that they were having a (manly) slap fight. It dove for the pair of them. Taranis stumbled backwards out of the way, tripping over his own feet and faceplanting.

This kept getting better and better.

Sailor Taranis rolled back on to his feet and turned around to glare at Castor. He watched the Super Sailor be bucked from the bear youma like an unwanted passenger. "Like I knew where your attack was going? Sorry I don't read minds," he said, striking a defensive stance.

The grizzly youma was badly injured and swerved drunkenly, swiping its thick claws regardless of how out of reach its two targets were. It came for Taranis again, and he avoided it by taking a slow step two feet to the right. The youma fell, and Taranis left it there, instead crossing toward Castor.

"Oh, no, no -- you wanted to get involved. Show me how it's done, right?" Sailor Taranis crossed his arms. "Go ahead and do it then. I'm not getting involved." It was a stand-off of some sort of far-below-epic proportions. Taranis was getting sick and tired of being told what to do by every glowing son of a b***h Destiny City had to offer.

The bear youma crawled to its feet, glowering. It dropped to all fours and began to charge. It wasn't much of a charge, too slow really, but the youma continued to battle in spite of its swiftly dimming power. Sailor Taranis flicked a hand in its direction. "I'm not raising a finger." He stepped to the side again.

Sailor Taranis was the kid who spouted words while the other kid threw a fist. When Castor started to shout, he deflated, expecting to feel the hard kiss of a hand crashing into his jaw. It wouldn't be the first time. His eyes strayed to the stumbling youma. Even its growls sounded slurred. He turned back just in time to hear Castor call to his attack one more time.

"What the <********>!" he shouted, reflexively throwing his arms over his head. He was already cut up, bruised, and bloodied from the first round of this. Taranis had no desire to experience it again.

As Castor rode out his own attack, Sailor Taranis stumbled awkwardly to reach the outer bands of its reach. He fell to the ground and stayed down, curling his bare legs under him to avoid the hail making skin contact. When all was said and done, Taranis lifted his head and scowled.

"Are you ******** crazy?" He sat up. "Why am I even asking? You are <******** crazy."

There were many things that he wanted to say, many more things he wanted to curse about, but instead, he cradled a deep cut on his arm and muttered darkly. "This is not the way you have an argument. You use words because you have logic on your side. You don't shoot yourself in the ******** head just to prove you can use a gun." It was a metaphor. Could Castor follow it? Taranis wasn't sure. He was too annoyed by his multiple cuts and scrapes to clarify.

In the background, the youma burst into dust. Neither senshi seemed to take notice.

Sailor Taranis was not a happy camper. He was the camper who had to sit by the smelly kid on the bus, and then had to discover that the Cheetos in his suitcase had been crushed during the move-in leaving his favorite white t-shirt unbelievably cheesy.

"It's Taranis," he interrupted, wincing as a finger traced over one open cut. Nothing too deep. "Taranis."

Annoyance was not a strong enough word to describe what Taranis was feeling. Either was <******** frustration or please let me punch you in the temple. Castor had attacked the two of them simply to prove a point in an unnecessary and showy way. "I'm not talking about the youma. I'm talking about your compulsion to prove your inflated ego by pelting us both with your attack." He sighed.

"The hospital is this way." Taranis lifted a finger and started to walk, slowly. "Try to contain yourself and refrain from attacking us again. If you can manage."

Sailor Taranis sighed, wiping at a cut littered with dirt. "I could do that with your name. CASS-tor. But I would be pronouncing it correctly." He didn't quite dislike Castor, not entirely. He just thought he was an idiot. These were two different things in Taranis's world, as he thought most people were idiots.

"You stopped sucking?" he said, though not offensively. "Hitting yourself with your own attack -- is that a pro-tip you wish to impart upon me?" He was mostly joking. Mostly. Taranis was just happy to know that the senshi in front of him would not be unleashing any more attacks in their vicinity any time soon.

When Castor suggested it, Taranis prepared to dehenshin. The hospital wasn't far away so they wouldn't need the speed boost. No one was around either, and he couldn't sense any dark auras. Just as he began his own glittery process of changing back to regular old Parker, the senshi of sand met eyes with the civilian under Castor's fuku.

"Elzo. Elzo Xanis. You're a senshi?" In spite of himself, Taranis had also transformed down into Parker, still in his Hillworth uniform. They didn't exactly run in the same circles, but Parker knew who Elzo was. Parker was the kind of kid getting stuffed in lockers and blamed for everything.

Elzo... wasn't.