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He didn't patrol often, and this was probably mostly to do with fear -- fear that had been thoroughly ingrained in him by more than one Negaverse agent, over the past almost-year. Where other senshi felt the pull, needing to take action, where they had been drawn fully into the fight, Sisyphus had mostly managed to dance outside of it. He learned, a bit, from a certain page and a certain cat; he stepped out, maybe once a week, to have a look from the rooftops, generally working to avoid the blips on the horizon that meant chaos.

He never thought of himself as a 'do-er', and yet. In recent days, he'd started to find himself restless. Had stepped in on a battle, and it had kindled something in him.

So, tonight he patrolled: stepping out onto the streets in his [somewhat ridiculous, but somewhat stylish] uniform and hunting. Not for trouble, but for...for heroics.

He found it in the form of a young man, slumped over in a park bench, with the retreating sensation of Chaos. His skin was pale, clammy, and his expression drawn. Sisyphus settled in near him, hesitant, and gently pulled up one eyelid.

A flutter, but then he just groaned. Drained. The Dark Moon Court had been there.

Really, Sisyphus should have felt the approach of a friendly aura, should have heard the footsteps, sandals against asphalt. Had Laoise been there, she would have growled at him, and as he snapped upright and turned to face the approaching girl, he could almost hear her voice in his head:

Had it been the Negaverse, you'd be dead, stupid child.

Honestly, he was starting to wonder if the Negaverse actually wanted to kill him, all things considered. Sure, they bullied and bruised him, chased him and hurt him, but none of them actually seemed hell-bent on murder. Not yet, anyway.

There was time yet.

Staring at Asclepius, though, he stood -- mouth opening and closing -- as he tried to figure out how to reply. When he did, it was stuttery, awkward. Young.

"...th-there was someone...I missed what happened..." A gesture toward the unconscious man which meant absolutely nothing, a slight twitch of his fingers. "...won't wake up..."

"...Sisyphus." He didn't offer his sphere as he took her hand, slow, awkward. 'Futility' wasn't the sort of thing he wanted to advertise, not really. His eyes flicked sideways to the young man at his feet and then he turned away from her to look after the retreating Chaos signature, licking the corner of his mouth. Awkward. Fumbling. Young. And, of course, new.

"It can't have been long." Not that he sounded confident about it, heavy eyebrows knitting together as he though about it. "That is. I mean. They were here. I think. And then they were done, and I stepped in."

As soon as that was out of his mouth, he flushed, looking up at her. "I mean, I got here. They were gone, but not long gone."

Honestly, Sisyphus wasn't even that new; he'd been working at this quite a few months, albeit fumblingly, and was still trying to sort out what his place was, his role in a group. The key was probably the 'group' part. On his own, he wasn't much, his power only useful against the least competent of Negaverse agents, and even then --

Well. Hers was impressive, and made him color a bit, frustrated both with his lot in life and with his own fear of stepping out to be what use he could be. Obviously, he should have jumped in well before the poor man was left alone, helped him before it got to that point.

"...that's amazing." It came out carefully, honestly, his eyes rising back up to her face. "How many times can you do that? And how much good does it do?"

Sisyphus watched in a curious, bright-eyed sort of way: his head cocked to the side, and strands of fine blond hair cutting into his eyes. He was shaggy, right now. Needed a trim, a cleanup. Couldn't quite afford it. He'd dipped a bit too deep into the used clothing bins...

"Take out their weapons and put them away again." It came out slow, mumbly, as he scratched at the side of his face -- maybe a bit embarrassed. It was so useless. He flicked a look up at her. "It has to get better than that, right?"

Talking of building-hopping made Sisyphus shudder just a little, memories of Laoise's first lessons leaving him blurry as he took the dish out of her hands. For a moment, he just held it, licking his lips and considering, but then...well. What the hell. He took a small sip, and then a slightly larger one, because it was actually kind of nice. Even if it did absolutely nothing to him....

"...what should we do with. Uh." He gestured with the dish as he spoke, sloshing a bit of water on the poor drained civilian, and then his eyes flashed up to her face. "Just leave him? Or take him somewhere?"

He hummed his agreement, and then offered the dish back to her, cupped in both hands so that he absolutely positively would not drop him. It had been bitter, yes, but to be fair, Sisyphus drank quite a lot of coffee; bitter didn't really bother him. Bitter was just fine.

His attention slipped away to their surroundings, and he nodded toward an alley, not too far away. "Um. We probably won't be able to see him, but maybe we could...could climb up and watch from the roof or something?"

Everything he said sounded hesitant. Looking for confirmation. He shrugged back at her.

Sisyphus blinked down at her phone -- and then, finally, smiled, trailing after her as she started toward the fire escape upward. This was, in fact, one of his most useful encounters in uniform. A girl, a friendly face, and above all else, someone who actually knew how to mend injuries. All of these appealed. Information worth having.