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The part he didn't like about energy collecting was changing up where he collected. He liked his usual spots, they were his usual spots for a reason. Crowded, making him harder to attack, and usually places where his uniform blended in, making it even harder to attack him, since civilians didn't sense aura's the way others did.

It was an nice little bonus that went along with having riding leathers for a uniform.

He looked a bit more out of place prowling the street, without a motorcycle anywhere in sight, and a big more standing over an unconscious body, heavily drained of energy. Technically a mugger who hadn't the slightest idea what he was getting into, and thought he might score a free rider if he'd been able to secure some keys.

He hadn't been so lucky, though Realgar was still examining sliced leather on part of his uniform. It hadn't been deep enough to deliver more than a shallow cut, though the fact it had happened at all had the Lieutenant's blood boiling.

Regular riding leathers were practically armor, and though magical and self repairing, these evidently weren't quite up with modern advances in motorcycle protection. Then again it was probably a bit of a stretch to expect magical uniform tailors ((Where the hell did the uniforms come from anyway? Magical twisted little youma-gnomes?))... to have the slightest idea what things like 'Kevlar' were, or how it might relate to crash protection and the avoidance of having sections of skin peeled off by asphalt-as-a-cheese-grater.

It was this particularly bad mood that inspired what followed next when he caught the prickle of senshi energy on the move, and he lunged to bound upward to the roof tops ((Senshi tended to have some kind of batman complex...)) planning to intercept before they decided to get as far as 'brain melting boring lecture on morality from a terrorist."

It was practically a formula with them and their allies. TinMan, Salsa-Girl... That creepy guy with the black a**-wings and the wang obsession...

Seriously, it was about time to shut them up before they got started.

"Hey sunshine!" He called out, (not exactly a Zinkenite approved tactic under most circumstances. "Let's get this show on the road. I've got places to be tonight, and kicking your a** is low on my to-do list!"

"And pass this up?" Realgar flashed a predators grin, teeth tightly clenched as he landed, heavy soled boots helping him grip to the sloping surface. "This will be like picking up a penny off the side walk."

He flicked his wrist, taking advantage of the terrain to try and get a little more... unconventional use out of his weapons, hurling a handful of small metal objects not at the roof top but at her face. They'd scatter widely and would take energy to get back, but it seemed worth while at the moment to try and take a fast upper hand.

"Guess you're not the lucky sort of penny, huh? Well... not lucky for YOU."

"That's the problem with fighting you kids. No one has any idea what racing leathers look like!"

The Lieutenant clearly had a few problems with his uniform being referred to as a 'leotard'. Granted racing leathers tended not to be a big fashion statement, but they were for the race track, not a gymnastics class.

He backed up slightly from the ward, glaring at the barrier that separated them, then glared around looking for something interesting... then grabbed at a section of roof and yanked yard, aiming to pull it up. He couldn't get close... but he always enjoyed pushing limits...

What were hers?

"Maybe you should broaden your education before going to war!"

"I'll sport my new uniform at your grave side when I get promoted!" He promised, hurling a strip of roofing after her, before leaping to follow her. This was ridiculously easy. Almost too easy. It was like trying to overtake someone on a bicycle while riding a street bike.
Maybe he'd just gotten a taste for another kind of battle. The Wingbutts were tougher, and he was used to taking them on, much as this was generally listed as ill advised, and he hadn't taken on someone his own rank.

"And if you somehow actually survive..." He promised. "Maybe you'll remember that this is WAR, and you'd better think twice about what it means to be a soldier in it before you power up!"

High kicks, an showy move, definitely, like something out of a Martial arts film. Was that where these kids learned to fight? Did they re-run old Bruce Lee films and try and copy the moves? Or whoever the flavor of the day was. Jet or Jackie.

He moved in to take the hit, letting her kick swing down on his shoulder with a thud that sent vibration and ache through him... and snapped his hands up, meaning to make it a partial sacrifice play and catch her leg. If he could get her leg, he could twist her ankle, or her knee. bring her to the ground

He had no perverse thoughts in mind beyond pain, he wanted to teach her why Chaos would win. Superior fighters, superior strategy, superior cause.

When she lunged, he yanked, trying to simultaneously twist her leg and knee fiercely with the same power that allowed them to leap two stories, and fling her either sideways or backward... away from him in any case. He may have her foot, but on some level it had struck him that it might not take long before she surrendered to the animal portion of her brain and struck out with fingernails and teeth, no differently than he might have if his situation had begun to look hopeless. Discipline had been struck down by unpredictability before, it could happen again. He'd surprised her that way, after all.

The Lieutenant towered over her, eyes blazing as though he looked at her and saw... who knew what. It was the fury of a wrath filled saint staring down into a pit of demons. He leaned forward, hand reaching out as though he had every intent to plunge it into her and rip out her star seed, then stopped, the tip of his glove so close that breathing almost made it brush the front of her uniform. He stayed there for one, maybe two heart beats, and snarled, his teeth so tightly clenched he could barely form the words.

"Go Home kid. This isn't a ********' game."

He pulled back then, still a tower of anger and darkness, backing up slowly with his eyes fixed on her. "Someone might miss you. But it won't be me."