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It had been a long road that led to Midas coming to terms with her rather lacking combat skills. At first she hadn’t cared because she was too busy with college and then Pythia had left and she’d been given no reason to care. Then Ryan happened and her life became a whirlwind, keeping her on her toes but, undoubtedly also reminding her what purpose she held in this world after all.

Ryan’s life had already been touched by so much misfortune, she couldn’t let the city consume him too.

“Are you Caliban?”

The senshi that came into her view as she rounded the bend in the trail seemed like what had been described to her - white and grey, fortunate enough to wear pants. With no reason to fear another Order senshi, she approached him without waiting for an answer, so that they were standing in the same gleaming lamp light. Both hands went to her hips as she stopped, causing the veils attached at her wrists to hang at her sides.

“I’m Midas, Senshi of Greed.”

Midas tilted her head at him as he identified himself, trailing her gaze along his uniform and assessing what she thought might be his strengths and weaknesses. What made him capable?

"I hope you can do, doll."

The corners of her lips quirked as she dropped both hands and took a few steps closer, balancing on her unconventional heels. She really wondered who designed the outfits, sometimes. She looked great but fighting seemed impractical, even if she did have some innate ability to navigate her own uniform.

"So where do we start?"

The Greed Senshi's instincts were to ask him if he was serious, though she kept the words bottled up around a disbelieving smirk. She wasn't here to judge, she was here to learn. Everyone had something to teach and even if he seemed a little less seasoned than some of the other knights she had seen, well, that wasn't his fault.

Plus she really did suck at physical one-on-one.

"Alright, alright."

Her body shifted into what she considered her best fighting pose at his request and her arm rose, letting it come level with her shoulder. After a moment of measuring whether or not he was ready, she moved forward and struck, putting her strength into one good blow.

Midas felt her teeth grit as he managed to deflect her attack, unable to hide her annoyance with the rebound. It made no sense to get upset at him, though, and she knew that on a deeper level - if he was teaching her to fight enemies then she obviously had to understand that enemies would not let her throw a punch just to save her pride.

She took a quick double-step backward, out of range of him, so that she could assess the way he was holding himself. Her position was still defensive, even farther away.

“You’re right,” she added, tersely. “This is important. My magic is entirely defensive - I can make the enemy weaker but if I can’t fight then there’s no point in my doing so.”

Her fingers flexed, uncurled, and then tightened back into fists. This time she aimed with a charge - dodging left, as if she might try to strike at a blind spot, before she suddenly leaped to the right on deft feet, swinging her aim below his ribcage so that he would have to drop an arm to stop her fist (at least, she thought so).

The look that sprung to Midas’ face could only be described as annoyance the moment she realized he was going to step outside the range of her attack. Having already begun a motion that was meant to stop with impact, she was off balance, and his small shove caused her to falter and nearly trip.

s**t, she chastised herself, mentally. Letting someone get behind her was bad form all around - she didn’t have to be a fighter to know the danger in that position. With getting her opponent in her sights again as her primary objective, she corrected and used her momentum to spin back to face him. It took a half second to right herself but she was steady on her feet when she launched her second attack; her left hand made a quick jab for his chest and her right followed, aimed higher at his chin line with an amateur’s attempt at grace. She was clumsy but still trying to stay one step ahead.

It worked.

As much as Midas hated to admit it, Zoe might’ve been a first-class soldier in social wars but she herself was an outright disaster in actual combat. She had been so pleased with her ability to land a punch that she didn’t anticipate his quick movements and the leg that swept out to kick her off of her feet. In an instant she felt herself falling, her gut wrenching with the realization, and only managed to catch herself on one ********,” she hissed through her teeth as she collapsed onto her arm, removing the pressure she had awkwardly put on her hand. She had sprained her ankle once jumping off stage and this felt terribly, awfully the same. The senshi had enough sense to know that she might’ve saved herself a concussion but this, undoubtedly, was the end of their sparring.

“Okay, okay, time. Check mate. Whatever.” Her attitude was directly correlated to her pain but she didn’t seem to be blaming him for the mistake as sat there, coddling her wrist on the pavement - she knew her own faults even if she was really, really annoyed by his success.