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It seemed that Al-Janah's life, as it stood in this moment, was 90% about trouble; about causing it, about getting caught about it, and about the ensuing fights with nosey order agents that inevitably followed. Perhaps, in fact, the latter was the cause for the former. Nothing seemed to rile them up quite so much as having a reason to pick a fight. They liked a bad guy to fight, and he didn't mind playing the role.

But. He was out of ideas.

His computer was, now, fully built, and he was back to a solid seven or so hours of WoW a day, while Quinn was out. He'd recovered most of his hacked gear, and had enacted unnecessary revenge on people who'd had totally just cause to fire him, kick him out, or all the other small slights.

So. No crime to play at, not tonight. Instead he perched on the edge of a roof with heeled boots hanging over the edge, frowning down at the street below. The itch for a fight had faded -- was fading -- would eventually slip back to something a bit more mellow, but for the time being, it lingered.

He still wanted a fight.

Order was like a spotlight at the edges of his senses, and it caught his attention immediately -- his eyebrows shooting up and all of him leaning forward to try and pick out where, exactly, the source was.

There. Lower rank than him, which was how Al-Janah liked it. He only hesitated a moment before hopping down from his perch to start after the unsuspecting Knight -- legs stretched out to swallow the ground between them and amber eyes gone bright, excited. He couldn't sneak up on the kid, not unless Falias was more out of touch than most. His own aura would create a dark spot, chaos following him through the streets...

An ambush would be nice, but lurking behind and setting Falias's teeth on edge for a bit before pouncing worked too.

For a goot twenty seconds, or so, it would seem he'd made a complete a** of himself -- silence responding to his declaration, only that feeling lingering at the edge of his senses. Then it would shift and Al-Janah -- dark clad, with arms folded over his chest and mohawk down, tumbling into his eyes -- would consider him from a position at the mouth of an alley.

His expression bubbled with amusement, cocky and mocking. So. Fine. Quinn'd told him to watch himself -- he was. This was a newbie, fresh-faced and nervous, and hardly a threat.

"Just what are you up to, then?" And there. He talked, first, instead of diving in to the fight.

"You have a bit of a caged animal look to you now, though." Look, full sentences between them; maybe Quinn would be proud. Al-Janah looked him over fully, head to toe, taking in the details -- and the lack of certain details. His eyes lingered on the symbols fancying up Falias's uniform,

"Not a senshi? that's good news, I think." For who, exactly, he didn't say, and probably for the best. Senshi were supposed to be put through conversion. Knights, on the other hand, were free game...

"What, just like that?" Al-Janah's eyebrows went up slowly -- but whether the surprise was genuine or mocking, that was hard to tell. He didn't give chase, not just yet, anyway. Maybe if Falias ran he'd let him go. This one sign. As a show of good faith.

Then again, maybe not. His life was boring, right now. Fighting was a blossom of excitement in an otherwise dull day.

"No 'cease, villain' or 'halt thy wrongdoings' or anything like that?"

"I don't know. Are you up to 'good' doing?" His tone was sarcastic, mocking. It was a deliberate dig, a poke at what he was growing to recognize as the mark of their side: pride and an unwavering certainty that they were in the right. Not, really, that he had ground to stand on, with his bit of thieving, with picking fights and draining civilians.

Al-Janah didn't care if he was good or bad. His die was cast, and he was comfortable with it...he shrugged at the poor page, amused. "You're in uniform, I assume you have some purpose..."

"Nope, definitely not one of those Negaverse guys." He grinned as he said it, the flash of his teeth white against all the dark, against the brown of his face. His eyes were amused -- perhaps the sign of a lie, or maybe he just thought the situation was funny. Newbies. God help them.

"Obviously I'm a senshi." He pointed to the tiara across his forehead as he said it, the transparent cloth of his overlay fluttering as he did. The sarcasm was heavy mocking. Condescending. Poor Falias. "Don't you know anything?"

"...a very good point." Al-Janah let him turn, let him take one step away -- and then launched himself at the poor page without warning, the full force of his body slamming up against Falias's spine. The goal was clear: knock him to the ground, gain the upper hand. The lack of warning would only aid in this, would mean he'd be flat footed when Al-Janah hit him.

"So. Let's do this." He'd talked. Some. Sure. This counted as backing off a bit. Maybe.