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The park was showing clear signs of frost. Soon enough all the leaves would fall and the remaining plants would shrink underground... or completely covered by snow. Such was the way of winter, no matter how much the botanically inclined felt. Serpentine accepted this fact in the same manner he accepted all others. No point in being melancholy, as some others turned in the chilly days.

He still felt somewhat strange... perhaps because he did not feel too strange at all. The shortened pants were not his normal style, but the stiff, pleated material felt natural. The boots that sank into the snow were not his own, and yet were perfectly formed around his feet. The snakeskin of his belt felt cool against his hand, better than the bloated chill of his toy weapon. Serpentine wondered how he could have gone without this power within him for as long as he had... and the thought made him frown slightly as he strolled along the path and listening to the satisfying crunch of snow.

At first the lieutenant jerked back, the sudden appearance of another person somewhat ruffling his feathers. It appeared instantly in his narrowed eyes as he looked over the costumed man who literally came from nowhere. The stranger's uniform looked too decorative for a Negaverse officer and he had yet to meet one adorned with wings... but the thick, dark aura coming from him was similiar to that of Zinkenite. Not as powerful. Not the same kind of dark. Similiar, but not identical. Wings, too. What... was he?

Serpentine reflexively curled the snake in his hand for a better grip. Surprise had been the best element he had found thus for when dealing with the enemy... and he wasn't sure this stranger wasn't an enemy. He drew himself to his full height and cocked a single, rainbow brow as he asked simply, "And you are?"

The words were as frosty as the night air.

Golden eyes watched Remarque as he made his evaluation, increasing anger rising within them that the gold-and-green clad Negaverse officer did not bother to try and hide. Dark Mirror Senshi, which would explain the Chaotic aura... but that didn't matter once the word 'Senshi' came into play. All Senshi were the enemy, and as the man in front of him continued to talk, the lieutenant adopted a more obviously agressive stance, the muscles in his arms tensing even as he allowed the snake to dangle. He needed it available...just in case.

Serpentine did not appreciate being mocked--by anyone, but especially not a Senshi. He could certainly give as well as receive, and his voice grew even colder as he openly scoffed, "Better a toy with potential use than flimsy, gaudy robes and flightless wings." He raised his empty hand and gave a sweeping, dismissive gesture towards Remarque as though it was necessary to point out where he saw the flaws.

Then, without further warning, he sprinted forward. As soon as he could, he lunged in with his rubber snake dangling, intending it to be a distraction from the kick aimed at the puppeteer's knee.

Serpentine had no real fighting experience outside of a few encounters he had started when people pushed him too far. Random bar fights and school yeard brawls, however, could only help so much. Remarque's boxer training and superior experience were evident as the swung fist connected solidly with the lieutenant's stomach. His hand reflexively tightened on his snake, but his hat blew in a seperate direction even as the lieutenant flew back. The force of the blow knocked the wind out of him and sent him flying back, a sensation only too familiar as the Negaverse officer landed hard and wheezed for breath.

Why? Why were they so much more powerful than him? First the Tiger Senshi and now this Remarque? Serpentine pushed himself to his feet, resolve hardening within him. He trained. He sought out these Senshi and fought them, as befitted his interpretation of the mission he been given. He knew he had power within him; he could feel it now as much as he had felt it that first night when Zinkenite had bestowed it upon him. Yet, it wasn't enough. His pride and vanity were undampened, but his patience was. He would not run again. He would prove his worth--to himself, if to no one else.

He spat onto the snow and prepared to dodge the next blow... if he was able.

Serpentine tensed when he saw the arm being drawn back, and as the Senshi took a step back, the lieutenant leapt to one side, bracing himself for a glancing blow... that never came. Instead, he landed easily in the snow in a crouched position, standing to look over at his opponent. Gold eyes narrowed. This Senshi... was pausing the fight? To talk? Ridiculous!

The green-and-gold clad lieutenant circled around Remarque, running an inventory of materials available to him and coming up with nothing that offered him a real chance against his foe. The resolve, so recently steeled, would not melt, but it could be channeled, however momentarily. He despised idle chitter on a normal day--with a Senshi it would be practically unbearable. But he was patient... and from conversation could also come distraction.

His snakeskin belt was icy to the touch as he placed a hand on his hip and replied, "I do. You hesitate. Why?"

The question did not even warrant a response--obviously Serpentine was not complaining. He rarely did. Complaining would not fix the problem; only hard work and concentrated effort could do that. Hence why he now fought Senshi rather than cool his heels and whine about them. He actually was eager to continue their bout, but the same pride that made him stand his ground held him back.

So far, he had suffered only a punch to the gut. Severe bruising, but hidden and easy enough to heal. The next blow might not be as convenient. A black eye, a broken nose, or a snapped bone would be far more inconvenient in terms of running his business and in damaging his features. He held his head high and, for now, accepted the verbal abuse. Since he did not care for Remarque's opinion, he let the implied threats slide off.

His lack of physical attack, however, did not prevent his tongue from being used as a weapon, however, as he was quick to demonstrate. "Senshi the scourge of Destiny City," the lieutenant countered "Truce or no truce, you are still one of them." Disdain dripped off of every word.

Serpentine tensed, praticaly spitting the words at Remarque. "No Senshi is my ally. For what she did to me... all of you will pay." The reasoning was quite simple, but the lieutenant felt no need to explain himself. All Senshi had become his enemies on the night of his corruption, when his shop had been badly damaged by the tiger-striped she-devil. Some of the plant were still recovering from bent stems and crushed flowers, even if the building itself was repaired. His livelihood, his pride, his mother's name that graced the shop... all had been tarnished. He would not forgive. He would not forget.

A selfish reason, and in the span of a cosmic war, a small reason. But a very strong reason to him. His gaze glinted in the darkness as he stalked closer. The time for talk was over, and he threw an open challenge, "Fight, or flee. No more talk."

Serpentine did not respond to the taunt. If anything, he was proud to be reminded of his rank, no matter how puny. He should have been a captain, at least, to start, but better to be a lieutenant than any form of Senshi. To even be equated with one would have been the highest insult he could imagine. As far as he was concerned, Remarque's continued delination of their roles only proved his initial stance.

As a soccer player, Serpentine had taken his fair share of heavy hits. When he could not dodge the Dark Moon Senshi's blow, however, he was unprepared for the sheer power behind it. Hot blood gushed from the lieutenant's busted lip, dribbling down his chin and onto his sandy uniform as he fell into the snow. He hissed in pain, mimicking his name sake unintentionally as he forced himself to rise. The fresh blow not only made his face ache but also his bruised ribs. The cold was doing nothing to numb them, but rather made each flash of pain seem deeper.

But he was not going to give up. Not yet. Even if he wanted to run, Serpentine knew that he did not have a clear path to do so. That would be his only advantage, when the time came to make a retreat--a clear path and a chance to make use of his speed. Maybe that was one area in which he still had an advantage. For now, the athlete rolled and grabbed for Remarque's legs in an attempt to pull him down to his level on the ground.