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Zachariah had his options for the student duties of the day.

He could actually finish his project.

... Nah.

He could study for the next exam in his microcontrollers class.

... Eh.

He could ... not do any of that. That sounded like a good idea. Zachariah had just gotten through midterms, and frankly, the last thing he wanted to do was more schoolwork. He was not sure exactly what he wanted to do, though. Maybe he would search out the gaming club and take over one of their consoles. It was the right time of day for not a whole lot of people to be in there. Maybe he would be left in peace.

And so, with that in mind, he set on his path, hands in his pockets and eyes focused straight ahead as he tried to get through the crowd of college kids without being bothered. The last thing he wanted was for someone in his classes to attempt to strike him up for conversations. He did not have time for that. He had to get to the club room before --

His eyes caught some odd black mass in the distance undulating like it thought it could break dance. Curious, perhaps against his own common sense, Zachariah decided to push through the crowd of college kids and get a closer look at the --

Of course there was a mark on its head.

'Mauvian,' had Bernard called them?

"What the ******** are you doing?" asked Zachariah, tone flat despite the language used, eyeing the Mauvian.

Unfortunately for Faust, Zachariah was neither a well-established senshi--though he may have been a senshi--nor an old person who was oddly fond of cats.

Honestly, Zachariah was not really fond of much of anything, but he was curious, and this Mauvian was ... interesting, at least. More interesting than trying to fight off fellow college attendees. He had to wonder how many of these false cats there actually were, just wandering around the city, trying to act like they were ordinary. Was this rolling around in salt thing a thing normal cats did? He did not know domestic animals well.

It had been years since he lived at home with any.

He crossed his arms, watching as the Mauvian suddenly stretched himself out like a damn starfish and made some disapproving noises. If Zachariah knew how to be impressed, he might have been. Instead, he just quirked a brow. "Really, Mau?" Just in case it was doubted that Zachariah knew what this black cat actually was. "Most people starfish on beds, not on salted sidewalks."

He might not have gotten the "piss off" message very well, seeing as he was still there, but he did seem to get the "this sidewalk's mine" message, at least. He was standing to the side, shoes in the somewhat snowy ground, not actively encroaching on the cat's space.

Of course, not being in the sidewalk did not mean he was not encroaching.

"Oh, please do," responded Zachariah, drawling sarcasm. "That was my life dream, to get head-butted in the balls by a cat."

He let that tick for about a half-second before realizing that this Mauvian might have actually been serious. It didn't show on his face, but he did shift his weight slightly onto his back foot just in case he needed to execute a classic "escape from Hillworth Teachers" maneuver.

"Hydor of Mesocyclones."

Laying on a remote was one thing, he supposed. Even he had done that on accident. Rock salt, though? If the Mauvian was looking for a back scratch, he was fairly sure it would be easier to manipulate a cat-loving old lady in a park than to roll around in rock salt . He did not quite buy that this cat behavior was necessarily typical, but of course, he did not really know cats.

Damn good excuse? That was easy. "I am on a college campus. I go to school here. I have homework."

Not that he was doing it at the moment.

"Is Four-Eyes really the best you can come up with?"

Most people he knew would have been all, 'Oh, homework? Carry on,' or something to that effect. This Mauvian, on the other hand? He was loudly complaining about the idea of Zachariah even caring about homework.

He quirked a brow, clearly unamused.

Mostly because he did not particularly care about saving his nonexistent English professor. He had finished that requirement several semesters ago. The less he had to reflect on the deeper meaning of some overly flowery prose in ridiculously long, unnecessary essays, the better.

He also did not necessarily care about saving anyone but himself, and even his will to do that waivered on occasion.

"Yeah, okay, cat. Unlike you, we still have to live in the human world with human responsibilities. You know, the types of things that earn us money eventually and do not involve rolling in ********, and all he wanted to do was go play some video games. He needed to learn to muffle his curiosity a bit better. An inquisitive mind was a good thing, except when it got him stuck turning into some godforsaken superhero.

He huffed, rolled his eyes, and skulked over to a space between two buildings that was usually only occupied by some students looking for a quick, unnoticed smoke before running to class. There was thankfully no one there at the moment, though there being someone there would have been an easy excuse to not do this.

When he was replaced by the likely underpowered form of Hydor, he rolled his eyes over to the cat. "You good now?"

Strickenized

Hydor rolled his eyes when Faust continued bitching. "This s**t is not exactly instantaneous, you kn--what the ********>" He staggered half a step, automatically grabbing his stomach where the damn ******** ridiculous salt cat had apparently decided kicking him was the right move. Hydor coughed thickly, stumbling back a few steps, and thought for a moment that he might empty the contents of his stomach. Thankfully, there wasn't really much in there except acid and a bad attempt at hiding some of the Styrofoam taste of his most recent microwaved cup ramen.

Thankfully, it probably stopped the bile.

He glared at the guardian cat and his ridiculous fur that was standing on end. That was what he got for rolling around in ******** salt.

"Is that what you wanted? Did you want me to power up just so you could kick me in the stomach? Very," he coughed, "pleasant of you, thank you."

There was a moment where he thought of casting his ability just to stop that from happening again, but he decided against it for the moment. "Great. Got that out of your system?"

Strickenized

The salt cat was seriously wiggling his butt what the hell purpose did that serve exactly--

Wait, the guardian cat was calling him a b***h? Seriously?

"I think if anyone is bitching here, it is--"

Oh <********> that damn cat was wiggling so he could aim at him. That was what was happ -- "Whirling Protection!" Instead of attempting to fight Faust back, or whack him off his body, which honestly sounded like an appealing thing to do in retrospect, Hydor threw his arm into the air and slammed it back towards himself. A cloud formed around his body, which admittedly made it a bit harder to see, but also Faust would find that wind would make it a lot harder to actually swipe at Hydor's face.

In fact, he would probably find it hard to even stay on Hydor.

That was the plan, anyway.

"Do not come at my face," snapped Hydor, reaching up to cover his eyes, just for good measure.

Hydor lowered his arms when he realized that Faust was definitely not getting at his face, especially once he heard a rather loud thud against the ground. He blinked his eyes once or twice and squinted through the clouds, attempting to locate where the salt cat was.

Being salty on the ground, of course. Where the hell else would he have gone?

Would have been nice if he went away. Then he could actually go back to heading towards the video game club. Perhaps, at this point, he would actually head back to his dorm room, though. He did have to do homework at some point, and he supposed this had been a diversion, though not the one he had wanted--

As the clouds dispersed, Hydor quirked a brow at Faust. "Really? What the hell do you want me to do, punch you?" How public was this place? Was it likely that he would get dragged to jail for animal cruelty?

The last thing he felt like dealing with was police officers and anything involving the word 'jail.'

He glanced around, before vaguely kicking in the direction of the cat, hoping that was what he was looking for.