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Why she was making her way back by the park again, she didn't know for sure. The ache for freedom, perhaps, the ache to get away from some of her more recent, exhausting nights. Or maybe she needed a nice, long walk through the darkness to sober up- really, it could be any combination of those options, she couldn't even say for certain. The one good thing she could say was that it was almost Friday, and she never went hunting on the weekends unless she had no other choice, meaning she would have some time off to tend to herself. Perhaps she would look to doing some kickboxing, or perhaps she would seek out some company.

It had been far too long since she'd had a proper night out. Her last one had ended up with her being drained by an overenthusiastic sort of fellow, and almost every night since had been staying inside or getting her butt kicked by over-enthusiastic Order members. It really was the antithesis of enjoyable, and getting quite irritating. The feels of order signatures lurked around her wherever she went, and it was a blessing that the more powerful among them seemed disinterested in a Lieutenant, usually. It was the fact that the other ones seemed to be over-excited as compensation... Ugh.

And speaking of less powerful order signatures, here was a middle-rank one, burning its way towards her. Groaning, Titanite adjusted her gloves and straightened her spine. She would not be cowed. At the same time... she really was not in the mood for getting in a fifth fight in as many days. Still, maybe this could turn out well. Maybe she should be-

Nope. That was a familiar-looking person coming towards her, aura burning.

s**t.

"You," Titanite hissed furiously, scowling at the cranberry-filled devil, "I remember you." How coudl she forget, after such a horrific experience before? He had buried her in the snow, covered in cranberries, and her cheeks still sported the faint bruises of the black eye she had been given as a thousand berries smashed into her. More than once. She shifted, hands going to her hips, glowering down her nose at the berry bad senshi-child. "You should not curse," she chided.

He never had told her how old he was. She still, by her count, owed him more than a few flailing punches, and her turquoise eyes narrowed in his general direction, considering the form and figure of her (temporary) nemesis. His aura of Order stank like Thanksgiving, or maybe that was just her imagination gone wild. (It was definitely her imagination gone wild.)

"What are you doing out so late? Should you not be in bed?"

Patrolling? This little one was too precious. It was almost nauseating. "You attack people with cranberries," she told him with what she decided was infinite, consummate patience. "You hang out on the jungle gym and you chase me down like some kind of creepy stalker."

She crossed her arms over her chest, pursing her lips and scowling at him. "I am starting to think you have a crush on me, little one. I am flattered, but I think you are a bit young for-" his next insult hit, and she clutched at her chest, genuinely wounded. "BINGO?" she protested. "Do I look like a grandmother to you?"

Did she need to wear makeup, at last? Was she looking that weathered and old? Was that why she'd been having a time picking up chicks? Could Titanite blame the alcohol for her apparently grandmotherly looks? She scowled at him, running her hand over her arm. "How old are you, Cranberry?"

"I quite well remember my face full of American Thanksgiving, yes. It was awful, and if you do it again, I am giving you the spanking you deserve." he balled his fist at her, glowering, and Titanite decided that teasing him was well worth the price of admission. "As your grandmother."

He was fourteen. Titanite's cackle was loud. "Yes," she agreed. "I am definitely grandmother age." she had little siblings younger than him. It was adorable. "And it is okay that you are in denial," she teased, "and if I touch you, you will get cooties."

Fourteen! Hah!

"So I owe you fifteen swats still, little senshi. Fourteen for your bad behavior last time, and one to grow on."

He was 14. Grandma felt the mischief coming on like a blanket, and her eyes danced as she stared at him. Not malice, but- oh, she was going to make him regret it. "I have nieces about your age, and a nephew not much younger." Yadira and Jamila were 37, and their kids were the ugliest things. It completely reinforced Shahar's desire to not breed.

It did not, however, take away the aunt-like streak of mischief that could oh-so-easily overtake her when ripe for obtaining vengeance. She could think of a few ways to make him leave her alone, and none of them involved swatting him. It could be equal punishment, and a much less damaging way to make him scream, if...

She moved swiftly, getting up in his space, grabbing at him with her long, old-grandma-woman arms, and-- tickling. She dug her wriggly little fingers in where she could grab, not with an intent to get his starseed, but with pure, unadulterated intention to punish him for her black eye by making him scream and plead for mercy. Or vomit. Or both.

He had no idea just how fast she moved when motivated, and he never would. "I am sorry. What is that you are squawking, Berry? Do not stop? Very well. Every time you call me a hag, I will tickle you more." Cranberries were flying everywhere as she tickled him, spraying into the air like positive geysers of holiday spirit.

He was gonna- he was gonna- OH. Oh, dear, she knew that face. She had seen it many times in the mirror right before she vomited in a sink.

She spun him around, gripping him firmly and pointing him in the other direction, all humor on pause, supporting him like she would a fellow drunk girl who was gonna puke. Hands still not off, but at least he wasn't gonna spew on her, or fall face down in the snow and drown in it, or something.

"There there," she told the teenager reassuringly, "And now we are even."

His cry of uncle amused her, and she patted him on the shoulder gently. "Truce," Titanite agreed, wrinkling her nose at the Picasso on the Snow. "I would say you have suffered enough." she let him go carefully, making sure he maintained his balance through the release of contact.

She'd worked hard to keep him upright. It would be a shame to see him trip and fall in his own spew. "Go home, senshi. Try some ginger ale." Titanite took a few steps back, lips twitching. "I will be the first to leave."

Her victory was clear. His surrender was complete. And Titanite made to slip into the darkness, unless he stopped her a final time.