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Senri sighed, raking his hand through his hair. "..If that is your wish." He conceded this once. It was clear he would get nothing otherwise. "Zephyr Power Make-up." The henshin pen in his hand began to flash, and a whirlwind surrounded the older male. He was temporarily concealed within a barrier, when the barrier released with a large gust of wind came forth. When the transformation was complete, Senri was costumed in his senshi uniform, his cape and hair fluttering from the after effects of his transformation.

"What did I tell you? I had no intention of joining your mini-skirt league." He let his glance fall to Gunn's skirt to signify the point. "Yeah, pants are doing pretty well." Fortunately, somebody had blessed the male with a (more than) adequate uniform.

He stepped back, taking the chance to loosen the collar and tie at the base of his neck. In a no-less-then-confident tone, he introduced himself as, "I am Sailor Zephyr, Senshi of the Wind."

"Do you believe me now, Miss Gunn?" He held up his henshi pen between two fingers, staring at Gunn with a smirk.

For a minute, she looked impressed. Then she was scowling, flattening her skirt against her thighs like that would make it longer. (It didn't. Spoiler!) Anyway, it was a lot more modest than some people's uniforms, like Sailor Europa's. Europa's outfit looked a lot more like a swimsuit than an actual uniform. Senri--Zephyr? Zephyr's outfit looked a lot more like a military uniform of some kind--but with no weapon, no armor, and a sailor collar, he had to be a sailor soldier. Couldn't be the whatever else he was.

"Are you sure they're pants and not assless chaps," she said, stoically. "They don't seem to go all the way up." And he had a freaking tassel attached to his belt, anyway! At least the giant bow on her butt at least pretended to be cute! (She was not noting all the nice things his uniform did for his chest and his legs. Or how dashing the overall effect was. The wise would call her out on this.)

She shrugged, trying to look unimpressed and just looking embarrassed. "Yeah, sure," she said. "Nice to meet you, Zephyr."

Pause. "...so, what, is this an I show you mine I show you yours thing? Do I have to go back to being myself and transform back up?"

Senri didn't miss her impressed look, although he did grin when Gunn tried to hide it. "Hmm? Are you jealous?" He leaned in, teasing her as one would tease their younger sister. "Coming from a girl with a short skirt, I don't feel that your argument holds much value." Zephyr remarked, much too casually. With a flick of his wrist, he henshined down as quickly as he had henshined up, reverting instantly back into his civilian form. He wasn't too fond of his Senshi form -- apparently.

"That would be a fair trade, wouldn't it?" Another bright smile to Gunn. "I would like to confirm that you're entirely human as well." Well, he didn't really have doubts on that. He just wanted to ascertain the fact to make it consistent with the information that he knew.

"But mind if we go somewhere else?" He looked behind Gunn, where a nearby playground resided. They could sit on the swing set that they provided for this conversation, rather then standing outside on the sidewalk.

"Sure it does," she argued; "I'm going to study fashion at Pratt in a year, so I know a lot about clothes, and yours are irreparably dorky." Hers weren't so bad, the skirt was just short. ... and his outfit? Also not so bad, which was why she was still staring at him, her cheeks tinged a little bit watermelon pink. "Well..."

With that, she stepped back into a shadowier side-street. Zephyr may not care about people finding out his secret identity, but she did. No one needed to know that Kaatje van der Weydin was Sailor Gunn, Soldier of Wildfire. She took a deep breath and her soldier-skin fell away, leaving just... Kaatje. For a long moment, she stood there, impeccably attired in brand names and trendy clothes, and then she took out her henshin pen. "Gunn Power, Make Up," she whispered, tracing her circle and watching the fire roar up around her. When it faded, Sailor Gunn was back, and she was walking quickly, very quickly, towards the swingset.

"So," she said over her shoulder, "what is it you want to know, anyway?"

"Ah, Pratt? Congratulations." Senri was familiar with that school, but his congratulations certainly didn't feel sincere. More like Senri was used to saying such things. Meanwhile, "M..hm." The pause in her word, the blush, and her stare was enough to convince Senri that she wasn't saying the entire truth. Senri said with a grin, meaning that he didn't believe her words at all. "Well, let's talk about that later." Their senshi uniforms was not one of his main concerns.

He followed the young girl into the street, just in time to see the defensive senshi shift into well-dressed young girl. She was like any other normal girl that Senri might have encountered in the richer parts of town. That gave him slight pause as Senri realized that any young girl (or male) could be a senshi. Although he took a careful step back from her transformation, having no desire to get unnecessarily burned. "Nice." He remarked on the impressive henshining up. He followed her, shoving his hands into his coat pockets.

"So, princess." Senri sat one one of the swing seats but he made no efforts to swing it. "What exactly does being a senshi entail? Late night escapades? Fighting monsters? Setting things on fire? Getting caught by the police?" That was not a pretty picture that he was painting.

She scowled, balling up her hands by her sides. After a moment, she ended her transformation; sure, if someone like a floor mother thought to look for her, there'd be issues, but it looked a lot less weird for Kaatje van der Weydin to be sitting outside on a swingset with Senri than it did for Sailor Gunn. The charms on her belt jingled a little as she dropped into the seat, red curls bouncing. Unlike the more standoffish man, she did swing; just a little bit, the toe of her four hundred dollar sneakers never quite leaving the mulch.

"Thanks," she grumbled, staring angrily at the ground. If looks could kill, the grass in the park would have been demolished thoroughly, the look in her blue eyes was so venomous.

Princess? Pfeh. "My name is Kaatje," she snapped, jerking her head around so she was facing away from him. "You can use it, you know, it's not a killing word."

Then she flushed, flustered. He had just described what amounted to her sum of sailor soldier experience. "If you're me," she said. "A lot of the other sailor soldiers I've met haven't gotten caught once, or set anything on fire, or anything." With affected arrogance, she opined aloud, "They're just not doing it right... Unless you're a fire user like me, you're not gonna set stuff on fire. If you're careful and remember to run away, then you'll be okay with the police..."

What else did she wish someone had told her when she first donned the sailor collar?...

He could see her internal struggle, between her senshi and civilian identities. But as she henshined down, Senri let out a sigh of relief. It would be much easier to converse with her in that clothing then it would be as a sailor.

He picked up on the details of her outfit, a instinctive reaction and assessed her. It wasn't difficult to tell her wealthy background, with her expensive clothes and shoes. Perhaps Crystal? She looked to be around that age.

Senri looked at her with an amused glance, finding her reaction to his coined term interesting. He chuckled, her shy reaction contrasting with her confident attitude. "My apologies. I thought you'd like that nickname more, Miss Kaatje." He drawled out, the smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth said otherwise.

But when she answered to her troubles, "I see." Senri could see how her domain could be a problem. "You seem to stand out a bit more then most then." That was putting it lightly, as if Senri wasn't speaking about the fact that Senshi were considered dangerous and wanted. "Why do you remain a senshi? You could easily ignore the problems of Destiny City." The tone of his voice was matter-of-fact, discussing it as if he could have less concern for the city they occupied. "Is it for the thrill? Or something else?"