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"You can learn a lot of things from the flowers, For especially in the month of June, There's a wealth of happiness and romance, All in the golden afternoon ..." Thraen hadn't had any formal vocal training, but he liked to think that he wasn't an awful singer. Not a professional, but then he'd mostly spent his musical efforts on the Shawm and recorder. The song was stuck in his head, being himself covered in flowers when he was powered up and it being the tail end of June, so he sang it softly to himself as he trotted along one of the crenelated roofs of a science building.

The sun was westering but still golden in the sky- long blue shadows casting along the ground and lining the buildings and pavements like zebra or jail bars. Maybe the latter was more on his mind recently. The duty was beginning to weigh heavily after that awful Carnival.

He didn't want to let that happen again. He didn't want to have to watch people just dropping and dying for no discernible reason than some hyena-pack's sick fun. No, that was an insult to hyena. The Negaverse was untenable. Inhuman. They tore out the souls of innocents as fuel for their foul machinations. Anyone who stood by them was parcel to the same opinion.

For now, he could only do his best to try to prevent it. Do the right thing, sacrifice as he could while remaining alive to try to get stronger and become more effective. Near to his heart, and more specifically his home, was the protection of the campus- learning, and the pursuits of it didn't belong in the war, didn't belong as victims. It was as distasteful as Kent State that any of the enemy preyed there. So his time was devoted more and more, even as now, to keeping the learned and learning safe instead of branching out in his own studies.

Feeling out, sure enough, he felt the distinct, phasing oily signature of Chaos. And it was on campus grounds. It wasn't a Negaverse officer from the feel, in fact he couldn't claim to have felt anything like it at all before. It didn't feel like Vespa. Thraen shifted from his cautious walk into a sprint- he had to get there in time to oust whoever or whatever it was before they had an opportunity to do damage.

Getting closer, closer, his running steps starting to sound like stacatto echos to his heart- Thraen grimaced. The feel of the signature wasn't moving really. It was probably already up to trouble. It was at the field house. He didn't bother with ceremony or sneaking considering his uniform- he just ran right into the field house and looked hurriedly into rooms as he came on them - courts, laundry, lockerrooms, offices, weights - the signature jumped with a second exactly like that thing that Athene had saved him from- a wraith thing.

He threw open the doors to the weight room- sure enough, there was someone in a ridiculous costume and a innocent bystander in less ridiculous clothing. "Get gone, revenant. No right is yours to take energy of others."

He trotted in, trying to get a better view of exactly what was happening - weight lifting equipment in phalanxes was useful for USING the equipment but no so much for looking around it unless one was at the right angles of the rows.

How am I going to kill the wraith? I couldn't touch the last one. Athene took it out. Let alone this guy. Who's he trying to be, Henry V?

It was already late in the game, the thing well to having had its way and this man's way with the innocent bystander. Thraen grabbed a kettle ball from a rack as he passed, hucking it at the other senshi, releasing it as he emphasized the word with a heave, "The righteous protect
the meek."

It made his choice, he supposed, on who he was going to focus on first. Ohhhh, henry. The 'lady' or the tiger. This is terrible. There's no way this whole situation isn't going to end up in both of us in a bad way with bruises at the least. But he's the one not occupoed immediately, even if its at that guy's expense. It shouldn't be necessary to expend the victim to stop the attacker. Please don't be lethal. Whatever those wraiths really are...please don't be lethal.

"Theft is theft, entitled none at all to thief the life of others." Thraen hissed. Turn about was fairplay, though, and the idea was dually noted and apparently acted on- his opponent had weight brandished IN hand, not tossed as his own try. This was not good.

He'd gotten better since his practice with Maia and the other skirmishes he'd been involved in, but not anything near 'good' Debatably competent, even. No, don't focus on that. Try. This cannot be allowed. It isn't right. Alright...don't fold thumb in fist, you'll break your own hand that way. keep your balance for kicks. Use a stance.

He tried kicking at the arm holding the weight- it was the greatest threat right now. At least, tried and tried not to lose his balance and look like a total fool.

Oh, dear- practicing offense had been very helpful, yeeeeeah.. Maybe something should have been addressed at all about actually dodging or taking hits beyond that whole business about just taking a stance to stay balanced?

The knee hit, driving air and an audibly 'OOPH' out of Thraen as he fell over against a metal shelf covered with hand weights with graceless clatter. Smooth. Real smooth. He glared over at the other senshi as he picked himself up again. But this long in...maybe the wraith was solid enough to hit it- like the one Athene had busted. Dividing his attention between the two could be very bad, or it could pay off- it was a gamble.

He tried throwing one at the tail end oft he wraith, worried about hitting the civilian, but altogether it didn't matter- it sailed wide and against the wall. He wasn't any sort of professional weight chucker. That wasn't even a sport wasn't? Come to think of it, he wasn't much of an athlete in general.

Oh learn to throw, shoeless joe- He watched the throw go wide, ready to suck his teeth before he caught movement out of the tail of his eye. Thraen wasn't looking for retaliation closely enough in spite of his own advice to himself that it could go bad.

He got a hand up in time to protect against some of the projectile-handweight impact. But it still was like a boot to the head. Thraen clattered into the weights again, this time staying on hands and knees as his world shrouded first black, then whorled like a carousel candle holder throwing shadows on the walls as soon as his vision resolved into something understandable.

I'm going to have a concussion from that....ohhhhhhhh I need to stand. What way is up. He's still...he's still over there. That ....senshi.... don't let him...get away

Too late. Thraen sucked his teeth and drug his nails along the mat flooring as the other, or really what looked like three conjoined versions of the enemy, slipped through the mirror. He grabbed the weight that had been recently collided with him and threw it at the mirror.

He'd let the beast get away. Both master and wraith, with the energy. He wasn't strong enough. But there was still the victim. He should call the university security and disappear himself.