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Tyndareus paused. That was definitely someone he shouldn't ******** with. No matter what their magic was, this White Moon a*****e was big. And intimidating, even if he didn't want to admit it. He stuff the bundle of energy he'd gotten into subspace and gently let the civilian down. Normally he wouldn't quite care about giving them bruises they couldn't explain, but the slower he moved around this senshi, the better.

"That's quite the assumption to make of me based off very little," he said, narrowing his eyes. "And extremely rude. Hand of the Tyrant."

His magic swelled, and then... Nothing happened. It popped and fizzled out.

s**t. His magic was doing that—that ******** thing again. His age was apparently a problem, when it came to his awakening as a senshi. This... was not good.

Vesuvianite didn't much care for bullies. Especially when he'd encountered them before. He felt the aura of a basic corrupt senshi quite close to him, and he saw the silhouette of the tall b*****d that had chucked him into a tree at the start of an alleyway at the same time. It wasn't that hard to guess that the White Moon ******** was holding some poor corrupt hostage right now.

Now this guy was messing with someone who might've been Vesuvianite's responsibility, and he wouldn't stand for that s**t at all. This time, they wouldn't waste any time on words.

They sprinted forward without drawing their weapon, not wanting to waste a precious second, and slammed their body into the back of the jackass senshi, hoping to make him stumble.

Tyndareus flushed with embarrassment and rage at the implications from the strange senshi, clenching his fists. Stupid <********> magic. Unreliable. He should've known better. One could only rely on their own fists, when it came down to it. Guns and knives helped, magic helped, but only when they worked. Only when you had a handle on it. He shouldn't have trusted his magic to just work, not when he already knew it could be a little haywire.

Thankfully, before he had to deal with whatever this twerp wanted to throw at him, a Captain rushed in. He permitted himself a small sense of relief and put up his fists, ready to throw one into the senshi's ********. You," he snarled.

Personal stalker? For a moment, Tyndareus's brain spun with possibilities, wondering what kind of history was between the two of them, why the Captain might've had a particular grudge against this ridiculous, crass senshi, but in the next, all of those thoughts left his mind. Whatever the senshi was saying was clearly a magic spell, and he stepped back as a ghostly lion leapt through him, but he couldn't avoid it. He shook his head, rubbing at his eyes. Ugh. He felt... odd. Watched. He looked up sharply, hands dropping from his face.

Was the Captain in the alley with him in on whatever this White Moon jackass was doing? Obstructing the Negaverse? But also, him, specifically? s**t. s**t. He wished his magic worked properly. Intimidating the Captain might be his only way out of this. He supposed he could just try again and hope it functioned the way it should have.

Vesuvianite rolled his eyes, drawing his sickle and preparing to slash at the White Moon senshi before him. He wasn't going to fall for such ridiculous bait. Running into someone twice didn't mean he was seeking out the traitor just to bring him to justice within the Negaverse or something, as appealing as that idea was. They knew they were no match for the large man, at least, while alone. Their much more slight frame meant they would lose most physical fights without their weapon, and Sailor Lionel had magic. They wouldn't chance this if it weren't for the fact that Lionel was attacking a basic corrupt senshi like a man with no honor. The basic corrupt was under their protection, and they refused to let Lionel get away with it.

Except... They tried to dodge the magical lion that sprang forth, but it targeted them, diving through their body. They ran their hands up and down the front of their body, feeling oddly chilled, like a ghost had passed through them. Or, at least, what they assumed that felt like, based on movies. Ugh. Weird. They looked up, to the basic corrupt, wishing they knew what the name of the senshi was, and stilled.

Was this a setup? Was the corrupt planning on betraying the Negaverse? Was this the corrupt's attempt at distracting Vesuvianite, tricking them, so that he could run off and purify in the same way that Lionel had betrayed them all—

Wait. No. Sailor Lionel was the Senshi of Betrayal. Of course his magic was based in tricking others to think along these lines. They doubted that the basic corrupt intended to betray them at all, now that they were thinking about it, but even so, it was difficult to fight the magical compulsion to curl their lip at the corrupt and ready themselves in a fighting stance. At the very least, they could make it defensive instead of offensive. Every muscle in their body was taught with tension, sweat beaded down their forehead, and their teeth ached from gritting them so hard.

"Whatever you're thinking," they hissed, "Don't. It's the—the magic—he's the Senshi of Betrayal."

They shuddered, full-bodied, and forced themselves to stay still.

Before he could attempt to call to his magic again, though, the captain's statement made Tyndareus pause. He narrowed his eyes at the captain, taking his own fighting stance. How could he trust the words of this captain whom he'd never met? Yes, they were meant to be allies, and yet, the magic held him fast. He couldn't be entirely sure he was safe, here. But after a few more seconds, the magic wore off, and he blinked, shaking his head violently.

"Is that what emotional magic feels like? That's..." He faltered, clearing his throat. He never wanted to experience that again. Ever. He'd certainly have to be more careful of who he pissed off in the future.

"Yes. Yes, it is," Vesuvianite said. "Let's get back to the 'verse. I think we need to stay low for a little while."

Tyndareus didn't argue.