Welcome to Gaia! ::

"Vagabonds frequent these bus stops." Captain Serpentine indicated the graffiti-covered area with a broad sweep of his hand, kicking some snow off of his boots before continuing his walk. He had taken Bischofite out for their first team patrol in the "bad" portion of Destiny City when, in truth, he would rather be getting the final arrangements made to move back into his apartment. The demoted general's injuries, however, had made any further solo missions impossible. His rainbow-haired keeper had hoped to build to them patrolling together after the youth made more connections in the Negaverse, to give him some time to branch out on his own, but whatever Senshi had cracked Bischofite's ribs had insured that a tighter leash would be kept.

Still, his methods were not that different from those that he had used while working with Buddingtonite. Lead by example, set up a school of practical experience and allow those experiences to toughen and teach. Despite the accusations of Laurelite, Serpentine did not believe in coddling. The care and protection he gave his partner had come as a result of what the two of them had seen together and because he was supporting as a friend, as well as a mentor.

With Bischofite, he could be more direct. Surely, after what the dark-haired youth had concocted himself, he did not need to be treated with kid gloves. Even as hurt as he was. The Captain kept a moderate pace, slow enough for his injured companion to keep up but fast enough to prevent any hint of favoritism. Serpentine knew no other way to teach someone team work other than to act on a team - tonight's patrol, however rudimentary, would act to teach the lessons the General-Queen had specified she wished. Respect for command. Correct behavior. One of the skill sets that, as soldiers, they were still expected to use. Senshi and Knights were never their only prey - just the more difficult ones.

"Can you hunt tonight? Or must I drain it all?"

For once he had mitigated his painful, complete lack of winter camouflage by putting on a jacket after transforming. Between wounds and energy, there was a lot to recover from- a situation that meant the cold sunk deeper if he gave it a chance. Tonight may be one of those nights later, but not for patrol and the hunt. Long sleep was meant to hold embers more hot than those flash-bang fires that quelled in an hour.

He paused in his economic lope along the back ways of a residential district to leap to the top of a stone perimeter wall and walk along it, examining the winter garden therein and the quiet, derelict street without. Here was a borderland where lumpish 'business' and corpse windows looked greedily at the yellow-lit homes with nervous curtains over their sleepy eyes. He hopped down from the wall and crossed the street to use the awnings and ledges as holds to make his way to the pigeon-tops. It didn't improve the view.

A few more roof tops and it appeared his choice had been correct- dark deeds sought dark streets. Two signatures near enough to feel. Risky, but who else is there near that would head it off? I will not let them pass unchecked of whatever aims they seek tonight. Black the man-dead the man. It cannot continue in 'peace' of civilians lives.

He started walking in the feel of the direction, looking for what might prove good ground for engagement- two on one was a bad disadvantage. A captain was a worse one.

Bischofite recognized that he lacked the finesse of sensing energy signatures when Serpentine's gaze initially peered into the horizon. His first guess was a civilian, perhaps, loitering on the snow-dusted sidewalks, but following that gaze led to nothing. The lieutenant began to let his breath out when the skin-peeling sensation, the chemical burn that was an enemy senshi, finally unveiled itself in that direction. He understood that they hadn't landed sight contact yet; the two still had time to formulate a quick trap to cripple the enemy, whether physically or emotionally.

But with Serpentine's words, he realized those antics might never find use anymore - not under him. Disappointingly, the captain provided a barebones strategy: when an opening appears, strike. Offering no facial recognition of the command, Bischofite simply looked to his CO with hints of exhaustion in his eyes. Already he tired of this arrangement, and his injuries had little bearing on it.

A Mexican restaurant sat proudly on the street corner, bathed in pinks and yellows that mellowed into a muted, jaundiced tone beneath the lamp light. Bischofite approached swiftly, as he had little time to spare for flippancy, and shattered one of its looming windows using his elbow. One of the jagged shards gouged his uniform, leaving a long gash bereft of pain, and the lieutenant elected to use that shard in place of his preposterous weapon. Very little of his uniform offered a means to secure the shard, so he seized the bird skull necklace hung on red fabric and used as a makeshift hilt to the weapon.

A quick glance about Serpentine's location confirmed very few places to wait in ambush: a manhole and the rare smattering of trees offered the only two venues where he might obscure himself from sight (but regrettably, not from sense) while possibly maintaining view of the scene. Still, such antics found little validity with the added layer of simply sensing the whereabouts of their opponents. Too bad; Bischofite rather enjoyed the thought of sinking down beneath a manhole, and later reeking of sewer to offend Serpentine's senses. Petty, maybe, but the captain likely took stands like this to make himself look good.

Finally Bischofite settled on the flat roof of the closed down Coffee Mama. He bade the captain a mock overenthusiastic wave before attempting the tiered climb toward the top: onto a street light, then to the nearby tree, and finally the lip of the building. Once he crouched behind the bordering dwarf wall, the lieutenant tightened the necklace fabric around the butt of his makeshift weapon. And only once he was satisfied did he cast his gaze in the direction of the approaching super senshi.

Bischofite drew an audible breath in immediate recognition. Swaths of blonde hair, predominantly white outfit, a sweeping sash and painfully hard, wooden boots. So the one who nearly killed him once before now approached on rooftop... Bischofite smiled. He was guaranteed to change from this encounter, but that smile faded to a grimace when he realized he lacked the will to kill the boy.

Change indeed.

The green-and-gold clad officer was pleasantly surprised to see his charge follow his commands. A glimmer of potential, however small, could be gleaned from that. At first, the sound of shattered glass worried him - but seeing Bischofite pluck up one of the shards met with his immediate approval. Making good use of the surroundings, amplifying his currently useless weapons. Two more points of commendation. Now it merely remained to be seen if the youth's normally sour attitude docked him what was earned. It would not be the first time.

At the call, Serpentine looked up. So they were to fight on the roof tops? A dangerous game, particularly given Bischofite's limited range. The injured man had seemed to scale his roof easily enough but when the fight combusted with activity? It was a gamble that Serpentine had no choice but to make. He did not waste the energy to teleport because he was not trying to hide. Normally, Buddingtonite would provide the distraction; today, the Captain was adopting his partner's role. He leapt to the roof top adjacent to Bischofite's chosen perch and across from that of the Senshi - at least, that was his best guess based off of the wave the former had given him and the sound of their enemy's voice.

In the dimness, the Indian could not make out much about his adversary beyond lumniscent white hair that stood out like a magnolia in moonlight. The features did not matter much, in truth, but perhaps the uniform would have given him some idea of what type of magic tricks to expect. With a half-bow, he replied evenly, "I am here."

He quickly straightened, barely able to keep a sneer from rising to his face. He took no pleasure in drawing attention to himself in this manner, although the vain man assumed that all attention naturally flowed towards him. How did his partner stomach performing such theatrics? Serpentine's hand tightened on the hilt of his whip and snapped it towards the Senshi without further warning. The battle had been delayed long enough.

He flinched instinctively at the sound of the whip, but did not actually worry much of it. They could do wicked damage, without a doubt, but his choice to have worn a jacket was proving at least to some advantage- the bullwhip would sheer through it and his uniform first before it could reach his skin. By then it would be more likely to leave welts.

A quote of Baka's, from too many Easter holidays with elderly family and a TV on floated through his mind, 'I can flick a fly from my horse's ear without breaking the rhythm of his stride.' And I a sculptor...stone cutter...how Joshua. I don't expect this man will have had that much practice. Maia has been at this 5 years. This man would have had a ridiculous weapon to start like that fool bear Lieutenant. So whip practice what...at most 4 years? Not enough to match that. He could wrap a limb of mine. Less worrisome than that General's blade chains. I'll take welts any day.

It also meant he had a guess at the physics. The power of whips was at their ends where the thong broke the sound barrier and made the tell-tale crack. He didn't hesitate to close the distance, letting the whip lash his upraised arm's length and he ran forward. If there wasn't space to crack it, the Captain would be forced to other combat.

You'll soon realize that close quarters yields unprecedented cases of narcolepsy, Serpentine. Can you afford that? The lieutenant thought caustically as he watched the two engage on the snow-capped roof. The senshi demonstrated with relative easy that recognizable weapons proved a disadvantage at times - yet without prior experience of the senshi's attack, he wouldn't have perceived any danger. Now Serpentine lingered in that same dangerous position, and Bischofite found little reason to warn him. Should the senshi trigger his magic, he would likely seek lethal injury as he had before - such an opportunity lent vulnerabilities to the man.

Crossing the very roof the senshi crowned prior, Bischofite sought a handful of dirt from one of the makeshift gardens adorning the surface. Between both his makeshift weapons, he might offer some benefit to the fight.

Assuming he finally decided to fight the blonde.

In closing the distance, Bischofite leapt from the crest of a vertical neon sign to a nearby lamp post, and finally onto the boughs of a tree, where he settled into its bare offerings to ensure his presence found no notoriety. And as he watched the rooftop spectacle, he found the senshi's display commendable, due to his ability to render their weapons useless. Perhaps if Buddingtonite were present, he'd likely try to charm the man into slipping into the ranks of the Dark Kingdom. And perhaps, still, he would've prospered there - as conviction coupled with cleverness often begat great progress.

Yet he lost every scrap of rank and respect for displaying an unorthodox approach to fellow officers. So much for conviction and cleverness.

The lieutenant crept across the boughs, approaching their makeshift battleground as he waited for prime opportunity to present itself.

The guttural, almost choked words that crawled from his opponent’s mouth were enough to make Serpentine hiss. Magic, damned sorcerers and their magic! Not knowing exactly what would occur - though certain something would - he jumped as far back as the roof would allow. Enough room to defend or to dodge…

…but not enough to fully avoid the radius of flowers that sprouted at the Senshi’s call. Even at the edge of this miraculous urban garden, the Captain immediately felt its effect. His eyelids drooped, his pulsed thumped strong and slow in his jugular; he fell to his knees.

However drowsy, there was enough time for his brain to realize how much danger she was in. Asleep, he would be fully unable to prevent further attack. Worse, he had only Bischofite to defend his life - and he had little hope that the lieutenant would actively support him. He might take advantage of the opening Serpentine had created… and he just as likely might not. Trust or no, the Captain was forced into this position. No matter how his mind rebelled, his body could not fight the oncoming darkness. The monster would protect him or not; the Senshi would kill him or not. There was nothing he could do to insure one outcome or the other.

If he woke again, he would make the Senshi pay dearly for this deep dread, an emotion he was not accustomed to experiencing. If he did not, then at least his final sight would be blossoms as beautiful as gemstones… and Buddingtonite would not witness his demise.

As soon as he saw the Captain jump, then falter, Thraen had started forward. He shifted the lax whip coiled on his arm to bear in hand,

Follow it up. A kick to the head could kill or at least addle him. I could wrap this and crush his throat easier than with hands- better leather and small surface area But he pulled up as the Lieutenant's feet clacked on the ledge too near.

Waiting so close, a well played ambush-
Of course it was.

It's you.

The Senshi of gardens didn't flail his middle back to dodge. It looked ridiculous and was counterproductive to bring his balance so off kilter. Thraen crow-hopped at a diagonal. He hadn't expected to find this one again. He felt an ache in his fingers similar to that of too many hours spent immersed in cold clay. The message was already well established- who would not control themselves he would see bridled. There was no need to speak it again.

He brought the whip around, not cracking it, hoping to just tangle the agent's arms, "What name would I whisper over cold lips?"