He'd seen this one played out a thousand times. The bow, the stance. It was like facing a gladiator in a coliseum. Not that those fights ever mounted to much fun. The best part of that was the end, when you got to slaughter everyone in the crowd and absorb their power. Or, well, it was for him anyway. Then the man did something oddly curious. Rather than throwing a punch, swinging a kick - or even trying to headbutt him. He just...tried to basically poke him. Albeit with all five of his fingers extended, but having seen the drawing he could see where maybe Gonad didn't have any real intellect. So, maybe for him this was a poke? He wasn't sure, honestly. His compilation of data was complete, but that didn't change anything or tell him anything about what the other was trying to do here. 

Suddenly, he dawned on him. As the fingers slowly made their way toward him, he realized he'd seen this joke once. Reaching up, he shifted his own right hand and let his fingers close over the index finger of Gonad, gently pulling on it just to see what would happen. If the man did what the joke implied he would, they'd share a good laugh before the fight commenced - assuming an actual fight ever did commence. Honestly, he was beginning to wonder if the guy wanted a fight or if he was simply trying to seduce him. Of course, Lysander didn't usually swing that way - but far be it from him to condemn another's lifestyle choice. 

Still, though, power flooded through his veins. The shadows of his own organs shifting to bolster is already impressive physical stats. Though he'd never bothered to actually gauge the numeric values of his power, that didn't mean it was a default to zero. It simply meant he was more than capable of scaling himself to whatever level his opponent thought to be the baseline. And, as was the case, he did just that. His compilation of information from Multiversal selves showed him a rough idea of Gonad's capabilities, and so he scaled himself down to match. It was a great loss of actual power, but his melee levels remained roughly the same as he often kept them at. 

The other would feel that, he was sure. Gonad seemed a veteran of combat, so surely he understood and could sense the strength within the white haired man. If not, well...that would be his own problem, not Lysander's. He couldn't be held responsible for the misjudgements of others, and he wouldn't take that responsibility. Instead, as he pulled the other one's finger - he released his grasp, and shifted slightly to the right, and one step forward. Just to ensure the other man's finger wouldn't actually make contact - and to be in the perfect position to hear (and likely smell) the outcome of the finger pull.