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Usually, Anabel drove home from where-ever she'd been and went directly to sleep. Sometimes, though, the enclosed space of her job or the classroom got to her, and she had to take a walk around the block before she could settle down and go to sleep. Such was the case tonight, and she'd honestly wandered a little too far to get home comfortably without, like, intervention. Or the late-night bus system. Which probably counted as intervention.

Anyway, usually her walks were quiet. She didn't tend to meet anyone weird; the odd occasion where she did, it usually went okay. The guy up ahead, though, he was dressed too odd to be just a regular weirdo. Anabel decided to take the risk and ducked back around the corner, summoning the white and indigo of her uniform around her. "Drunk girls," she called, taking quick steps towards the Negaverser--his aura read clearer than even his outfit. "Ten points for good thinking, but minus several thousand for originality, yeah?"

She really shouldn't engage, she thought. But she'd put Babylon in the hospital... she could always try to get this girl's energy back.

"Sorry," she said, forcing her voice light and airy. "I don't have any to spare." I'm not scared of you, she chanted, safe inside her head. I'm not scared of you. I'm stronger than you. I'm faster than you. I am going to kick you in the balls.

Two of those four things weren't true, but in Britain 50% was still a passing grade, so, like, it didn't matter. Right? Right. Mistral took two more steps and called on her forever-ago self-defense training to chamber a kick and throw it towards his stomach, all her weight on the heel of her boot. "You can drop the energy whenever you'd like," she said, a hand over her stomach protectively like that would make this decision less stupid.

Mistral did her best to bob and weave, catching most of his punch with her arm. It hurt, but - better that than her gut. "Seems like you're not very good at your job, then," she said, gritting her teeth. She couldn't keep this up - not for more than a few minutes. The girl's energy was in his pocket - she'd need to get close if she was going to get it back.

It crossed her mind that she should leave this alone, cut her losses and leave him with a bruise, but she wanted to at least put in the effort. That girl was walking away with days or weeks of her life missing, if certain interpretations of energy stealing were to be believed. It was her duty as a knight to at least try.

With the limited amount of magic at her disposal, either this was going to work, or it was going to get her seriously injured, maybe even outright killed. there was very likely no in-between. I have to try, Mistral thought again. He was just a lieutenant, and not a very good one at that. If not this fight - which one?

She ghosted her fingers over the black-and-gold cuff on her wrist and felt the power flow through her. Mistral rippled down her center, and her double peeled away, stepping opposite of her, leaving two where there had been one.

She paused for a moment, waiting to see which bait the lieutenant would take.

Mistral bit her lip and watched her double do the same. Sounds like a personal problem, she thought, but resisted saying so - it would break the illusion. She'd tested the bounds of her magic plenty of times on her own time, but now it would have to hold up in a fight.

It was definitely complicating things that he hadn't actually attacked - the illusion wouldn't hold up under long-term scrutiny. Maybe he thought she was stronger than she was, or that this magic worked some other way? The need to trash talk her clearly indicated... something. Fear, she thought, suppressing a grim laugh. He thinks I can kick his a**.

An idea came to her, something that flew in the face of how her magic was meant to be used. The double's detonation could be as much of an attack as her fists were.

The real Mistral backed away.

The double closed in on the lieutenant, fists raised in a facsimile of aggression. It wouldn't actually attack, but hopefully the lieutenant could be goaded into striking first.

Mistral bit her lip - My illusions, dad. You don't have time for my illusions, played out in .gif form in her mind. On the one hand, if she didn't pursue him, then he'd get away with the energy. On the other, she was tired - using her magic took a lot out of her. And on the third, mutant hand sticking out of her metaphorical chest where she kept her trite literary stylings, she'd won! He was retreating! She'd fought a Negaverser and she'd outsmarted him!

Coward, she thought, with a sly little smile, and when she was sure he was well and truly gone and not just waiting to come back and ambush her, she turned and, with a rare spring in her step, saw herself home.