Welcome to Gaia! ::

The man didn't have to wait long before his mind would find the answer to who the signature belonged. The high pitched screech of the youma's death cry was partnered with a bright spinning disk of light and from the alley where the being had fled emerged one Prince Castor, void however of his usual princely garb.

Castor for his part had felt a knight but hadn't cared. At least until he looked up at the source then frowned. Then scowled.
Then? Then he smiled.

A quick run and jump narrowed the space between them to where they might talk but not yet reach to start getting into yet another physical altercation.
"If it isn't my favorite filly fancy boy."

Castor was smiling- not a good sign.
"Any plans for tonight, or just going to brood and look as menacing as you can in white and purple?"

The grin was one Gev knew as soon as he'd see it. Predatory. Castor's eyes were alight with that look of a thrill, the excitement that came before a battle, a fight.

"Actually didn't come down here looking for youma or chaos tonight." He knew he was supposed to do things like this, that so many other senshi would rally against what he did. But then, they didn't bother looking at what evil was in the world past the ones behind their backs.

"I care because thought you might be interested in a different kind of fight. I could do it myself, but, would probably end a bit messier than needed. It's trash. Real trash." Castor lost a touch of his mirth as he described his targets of the night.
"The kind that has the nerve to call themselves human while they kill and rape their victims." The crux of it, Castor was going after criminals with no magic- what most would call civilians and say should never be harmed.

"The barkeep makes all the men check them at the door. So long as we can reach the weapons first, they'll be nothing more than meat sacks with swinging fists." There was somethings Castor hated admitting. That he worked like a murderer. Stalked those he'd kill. Plan it out. He made back up plans, escape routes, traps. He was a criminal, a hunter of murderers didn't make him better

It just had him with a different type of target. The reality would also sour his tongue.

Blue eyes looked Gev over for a moment, trying his best to read body language. So far, the man hadn't attacked him or summoned his weapon- a good sign.

"The women and men tell me what happens to them. They ask me to look for those missing." He had too many stories told to him. Too many tales of the same acts done upon those who just were trying to make a living, to escape something. "Usually, I find who they're looking for, but not in a way that they wanted." Dead. strung out, possibly shipped off. Castor remembered when he moved too slow and what happened as a result.

"I've done these types of clean-ups before. You hear a lot when you bother to listening."

Years had hardened Castor. Thing he'd seen, heard- even when he'd been a child, a boy, it had taken something from him. He remembered seeing wounds. Broken expressions of what people looked like after attacks. After becoming victims. Things haunted him at night. More than just the war of powered beings- Castor was haunted by the memories people who he couldn't help.

Even if he couldn't save the senshi, he could at least try to save those who had no others to protect them.

"It's thankless work. It's the type of work no one wants to do. It's the type of work that should be done regardless." He'd not debate the ethics or semantics of it. Cut and dry, they would be killing serial killers, rapists, criminals.

"If you want to think they're using me? You're free to think that. I was the one who opened that door when I asked what happened one night when I took a woman back to her matron. Before me, they had no one Wolfy. Not about to stop just because it's unsavory work." The old nickname.

"Doesn't mean that on some nights even I could use a little assistance in case things go south. As for guns, my hailstorm tends to take care of the weapons." Jumping down and waiting he took a deep breath.
"Besides, no one gets the honor of your blood on their hands but me."

Castor would always preen and posture. Power breed confidence, justified or not. His smile was that of man who didn't think he could die. A man who wasn't afraid of the risk he currently faced.

"If not me Wolfy, then who?" It was a question they both had likely thought of. Who's hand did they wish to die by. It was one thing to die in battle.
It was another to die by the hand of a rival.

--

As they arrived, Castor looked at Gev wondering the best way to go. Their past little hunt had been a simple drop and dispatch. Now they had to plan. Confined, at the disadvantage of weapons- it was entirely different.
"I can royal up. My armor is pretty good for terrifying civilians. And no offense." Arms crossed.
"You're not exactly a big guy. I can shock troop them, hit the guns with some hail-" The smile was back.

"Then we can start."

Castor was made of pride and arrogance. Sadly, he had power to back up his boasting. Even if only just.
"Still, rather not have you die from some thug." Not that he'd mourn so much as be frustrated. Wolfy, Gev- he wanted that kill, whenever he got the chance. "Besides, you like the sight of me covered in my own blood."

A rush of power and a cold wind- Royal was his mantle, and the only thing missing from him would be a scepter. But he'd never needed one, preferring to do his work with his hands. The armor formed ins a shimmer, thick and looking almost like glass with a blue hue.

Smirking, he waited a beat- Then he casually opened the door. When he could see inside- "Stinging Storm." Hail started to fall and men started to scream.

Watching the men struggle and fire at nothing was thrilling. Fear tasted sweet in the back of his throat as he felt the burn of a bullet shatter the armor on his leg and send ripple cracks along the chest plate. Ricochet. These were the moments he lived for- do or die. A gamble of chance,.

Adrenaline courses in his veins Castor launched himself towards the guns calling out the second volley of ice. It was a solid casting, the guns stockpiled crunching under the concentrated storm and crashing ice. He could see it in the eyes of a man who watched it from the other end, hand reaching out for weapons that were mangled and broken.

"Now the real fun can begin." A fight with nothing but his fists, his power. His deathwish lived in another moment.