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He'd round a corner and find himself face to face with evil itself -- Al-Janah, perched on the edge of a bench, distracted and unfocused.

Working on an ice cream cone.

Evil, obviously.

Perhaps he'd already indulged in his dose of picking fights and draining civs for the night. To be fair, his left eye was darkly bruised and his lip puffy, his hair tousled posture a bit slumped, but it was impossible to tell if these were fresh problems, or if they were days or weeks old.

He'd blink up as Troy came into sight, and then tip his head to the side, licking ice cream from the corner of his mouth and looking the page over. He looked familiar. Faint memories of a battle in the surrounding -- maybe that was it. Al-Janah blew out a sigh, trying to figure out if there was going to be trouble, right now.

"...yo?" It sounded hopeful. Usually he was down for a good fight, but right now he still had half a scoop of rocky road to finish off.

It was completely unexpected; it connected; the cone went flying. For a moment, Al-Janah looked totally stunned, his fingers still sticky, the ice cream melting slowly into the grass at his feat. Sure, he hadn't actually paid for that but had, instead, broken into the Baskin Robbins via the employee bathroom. Sure, he'd already eaten half of it. But...

"...that was really unnecessary, man." A casual statement, but with a bubble of annoyance behind it. Al-Janah licked the lingering ice cream from his fingers as he rose, slowly, to stand. At least the baton hadn't gone for his face.

"I was just going to eat that and leave you alone, but that was too ******** much like high school all over again." He rolled his shoulders, taking in Troy's size. Bigger than him, which sucked, so when Al-Janah kicked into motion, he swung for a low blow.

Just the gut. Not any lower than that. Not yet anyway.