Welcome to Gaia! ::

Another day, another dollar, another run in with the Negaverse.

The Senshi of Tigers may have taken up a part time job, but that was always a secondary job to her. Running the cash register and helping Krishna set up bouquets and floral arrangements did put money in the bank and helped her gain some necessary experience and people skills, but Gwendolyn Caspian's heart was always set on her senshi duties. And it seemed like Eternal Sailor Tsui didn't have to go too far to find herself within the presence of a Negaverse officer, one that rung bells within her head and reminded her that she had made a name for herself within their ranks.

Not necessarily a good name, but Tsui was alright with such a reputation for now. She managed to make it a few feet away from Padma's Bouquet before running into Lieutenant... no, Captain Schörl, and it was hard not to remember their last run in. One of them ended up in the freezing cold river, and as aquatic as tigers were, it wasn't this senshi.

"Good to see you've survived your little dip," Tsui said, genuinely meaning that part even though she could not wipe the smug grin from her face. She hadn't meant for the fight to end that way, despite being enemies, but now that she was alive, it was likely that she might have held some residual anger towards her, and Tsui couldn't blame her. "Let me guess... you're after revenge, right? Because I totally wouldn't blame you if you held a grudge over that."

Which likely meant a fight was inevitable, and that was alright with Tsui. There were no rivers or bridges here, and as far as she knew, no civilians. A good throwdown was always on Tsui's to-do list, it seemed.

Oh, how lucky was he, to have witnessed a meeting between friend and foe alike. Idly he wondered if their boiling interactions would draw him into the mix - if he would succumb to a demise born from crossfire, or if they might use him as stakes to heighten their individual resolves. He marveled at the irony of a senshi rescuing a plainclothes Negaverse agent, or a captain attempting to rip out his starseed to prove a point. Or maybe just to bait the other senshi. What a trite demise - still, he didn't have his choice over how he died.

And that was fine. But what drew his eye almost immediately was the telltale furs entrapping the senshi's uniform - grey and tiger-striped, and telltale even if he hadn't recognized the girl who wore the three stripes beneath her eye. He identified her from her part in the convention, where she encountered Xenotime in a rather impressive standoff. But she had already sustained some damage at the time, and she now stood proud and untouched to face off against this captain.

He knew these odds were slanted. The match lay in her favor.

He knew he could potentially offset those odds. He could assume the visage of Bischofite once more and match her in that power.

But even as he considered it, an algid despair peeled its icy veins from the pit of his stomach outward, like tendrils seeking the unknown for hidden morsels. It sought his drive, his dedication, his interest in the scene, and he had to forsake the concept of powering up to protect what hadn't yet been frozen.

Alois ducked into the shadows at the mouth of the alley, sharp gaze still focused on the Tiger Senshi that taunted the officer opposite her. And as he watched them exchange insults, he searched his pockets for a recent purchase - an already somewhat crumpled pack of cigarettes that still retained its cellophane. He knew that peeling away its casing and lighting up might draw attention to himself, but they had more important adversaries to worry about. Why waste time on an idle civilian who sought to watch the show?

With the casing discarded and a miraculously intact cigarette in hand, Alois used a newly obtained lighter to chase away that untouched perfection and facilitate the draw of smoke into his system.

And it met his lungs with scathing heat, with memories long abandoned and vivacious resignation. He shuddered and coughed, but it felt good.

He could watch the show and enjoy his cigarette too. What more could he ask on such a dismal occasion? In fact, he was beginning to think that forsaking his powered identity was an excellent choice that he should've made sooner.

When Tsui showed her teeth, and the missing part therein, Schörl couldn't help but don her own appreciative smirk. The comparison of Blake to the children's counting rhyme just made her mouth curl wider. The girl was trying to keep up with the banter, and that was something that made the dance worth more attention.

Then there was the quiet, but distinct, rapid grind of a wheeled flint and click of butane- a lighter? They had an audience? The captain didn't turn her gaze from the tiger, but her attention was halved- she'd had more than enough of two front battles for a little bit at the Convention. There was someone in the alley, and the scent of cigarette was clear to her smoker's nose. The question was were they friend or foe? There was the probability of neither, just some curious citizen or activist or paparazzi trying to get in on the media interest in the terrorists. But showman as Schörl could be, she wasn't interested in a purely ignorant awareness of a third party.

Tsui couldn't have been more obliging- it was easier to defend than attack for tai chi, even with the training bits with Xenotime more recently. The tiger was still fast, but ranking up meant it was less incomprehensible to follow the motions. Schörl turned, not fast enough to avoid all contact, but enough that the Eternal's charging strike grazed rather than bowled into her. It let momentum carry the scout a little past her, more like a bull fight than a tiger, and Schörl tried to offer a jab of her own so that they would match sore shoulder to sore shoulder.

The new positioning, facing sideways, served her purposes of letting her try to get a look down the dark alley for the source of the cigarette and lighter while keeping Tsui in front of her to keep track of as well. "What have we here...?"

The Tiger senshi wasn't certain if Schörl was the type to be impressed by such a display of scars and old battle wounds, but it always made her feel good to know that they were seen to others. Others might have been disgusted or horrified by such things, but Tsui saw it as a testament to her will to survive, and a warning that she wasn't afraid to throw a few more scars or blemishes on her body to get the job done. She wanted Schörl, and everyone, to know that when she doned her attire, she meant business.

Tsui had not heard the flick of the lighter being lit, nor did she really smell the cigarette smoke that hit the air nearby. If she did, she may have been much more curious, but her attention was purely on the fight. And with good reason. She remembered their last encounter, before she ended up pushing the (at the time) lieutenant into the river, and she recalled this one being extremely quick and articulate when it came to combat. Had she been an ally, Tsui could have definitely sought out lessons with her and would have loved to have her as a sparring buddy. Unfortunately, be at is may, this made her a very dangerous opponent, and while Tsui should have been happy to manage a blow in on someone that had easily dodged and countered her the last time they met, she was disappointed in herself for only grazing the shoulder, as well as allowing Schörl to strike back.

The blow connected with her shoulder, and never the type to hide behind a good poker face, Tsui grit back against the pain and didn't bother hiding it. Instead, she tried to bear it, fuel her determination, and she sought to return the favor, balling her fist and trying to a right hook to the captain's midsection to force her back. Her statement didn't stop her from striking, but it certainly did cause Tsui to raise a brow in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Only then did she smell something distinct, and the realization that there might have been an onlooker immediately came to mind. She didn't feel chaos or order aura around her besides themselves, which meant that there was a civilian nearby, and that forced a curse from Tsui's mouth. "s**t."

So he couldn't maintain his anonymity forever. No matter. The battle's course would not alter from his presence alone.

The sea breached the shore, with or without ships.

And as he drifted, powerless and defeated, those waves delivered him inevitably. And he would not need a lighthouse to see the sharks; they eyed him from the depths, with eyes so black and cold that he found nary a scrap of depth within them. Alois smiled; captain in his own slow demise, he took solace in knowing what came next. With every fight came a conclusion - it was an inevitability, just as the rocks would inevitably give way to the pounding, stormy sea. The grayed waters would suck it away with such force, such absolute power, and the remains would stand broken and jutting against a fate long foretold.

"Haie, seh ich gut aus*?" He spoke softly. Smiled. A flash of teeth illuminated by the soft glow of a cigarette. The street lamps didn't reach the darkness here. No - from this vantage point, he could watch without wariness of the churning waters. For the sea would deliver him, but that was not its sole intent. To taste the shore meant to taste blood, so their ventures lay elsewhere.

Between each other, not him.

Alois watched flashes of movement where Bischofite might've seen a series of missteps. He heard quick exchanges, slight blows to the ego managed where applicable, though he knew not why they would waste their breath on such trifles - not in the midst of a dead heat. But he would not speak of these things, for he did not belong in the fray. The tiger would most surely recognize him, and with that sudden knowledge came likely biting remarks about his failures in the convention. A desperate act like that allowed for a slim margin of success - and he did not meet those margins.

If he did, the city would be flooded in youma by now. Chaos would reign supreme, where organized retaliation would be met with travesty. It wouldn't differ too greatly from this country's early history, and a war fought and lost years ago - long taught and easily predictable tactical movements crumbled before guerilla strategy.

Perhaps the two were a reflection of that - the blonde managed her part well, but she was likely outmatched. He could not easily peg her as a captain or general, but slower movements confirmed what he already suspected. And the tiger... winged accoutrements already confirmed her place at the top of the senshi ladder. He'd sensed it himself some time ago. She stood fast and deadly in the midst of this war, fueled by her failures as well as her successes. He wondered; did the blonde have that same drive to match her? Or would she fold beneath the pressure of fighting a greater opponent?

The onlooker took a quick drag and exhaled through his nose. He watched the two with muted interest, almost too tired to focus on the show. Who would stay and who would go? He wanted to know, if only to sate his morbid interest. So Alois sat against the brick building, wincing slightly when it dug into his back through the thin shirt he wore, and readjusted with legs loosely crossed over one another. He had little intention of leaving, no matter their protests.

"Tame, pretty, not take out, " Schörl was already getting the weapon around again as the Tiger was 'rushing' in. Threatening....my ...knout? Well....its original, I'll giver her that.

The loss of the full sprint was glorious on the white tiger. It made it just that little bit more reasonable and telegraphed for the Captain to prepare. The jump did take Tsui out of range for the initial follow-up strike, so Schörl kept with the momentum to crack the knout for the sound effect and to waltz step to take the place Tsui had been, reversing them on the battle field from their orientations seconds before.

Battles were as much about Morale as anything else and sound had its place in that. Tsui had avoided this one, but she'd felt the first. Hearing the weapon sing would play on it, for good or ill. Schörl was interested in seeing if this tiger took it as a boost to hear it and not feel it, or remembered the kiss of it and felt the dread of its next sounding.

"I could say that about your fuku, luv."

Tsui couldn't deny the fact that the sound of the whip cracking did make her wince, even when she tried to hide it behind a low growl, and she may have allowed too much of her frustration be seen when her strike missed. She managed to come to a skidding halt, spraying droplets of blood on her clothing and the ground and immediately regretting that decision as it sent a searing pain throughout her leg. The insult to her fuku went unnoticed, however, when the civilian stepped out of his hiding place, and Tsui couldn't stop herself from cursing aloud. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Even with his thick accent, she could tell that he was outright mocking them, and without taking her eyes off of Schörl, she looked over the civilian and had to hold in the urge to sneer when the smell of cigarettes hit her nose. Playfighting? Given the blood that trickled down her leg, he thought they were play fighting? And the nerve of calling him a fluffy kitty really dug under her skin. Before he had the chance to correct him, he drew his words directly to her, and she swore she could feel steam rising from just how red hot her anger was becoming. His request was enough to quell that anger, but only replaced it with some slight confusion, and she cast a glance to Schörl, as though to dare her to even try.

"Lay a hand on him, and I'll do more than snap your weapon," Tsui warned her, certain that she was falling into some kind of ploy here, but so long as there was a civilian in danger, as foolhardy and insulting as this one may have been, Tsui had to protect him. Even from himself. Schörl was far more composed than she was, she had to admit, which made her unpredictable to Tsui, and she wondered what the Negaverse captain would do with such an invitation.