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[Copy-pasted from Google Docs. Purple is Plou, black is Cor.]

Ploutonion was actually getting used to this, the whole magic-powers-thing. It had been nearly a month, after all, so carving some time out between classwork and such to go out and patrol was well within what he considered routine. He had seen what the Negaverse was capable of, and not patrolling was absolutely out of the question.

But that didn't mean it had to all be terrible, horrible things - he could feel an aura nearby, one sort of like Aegir's, and he supposed that meant "senshi," which meant "ally." And running into someone else sounded like a lovely way to pass the evening, so he waited - and it wasn’t along wait, even, for the very attractive Senshi.

“Hello yourself,” he said, and his tone was directly flirtatious. No reason to beat around the bush.

Cor Caroli couldn’t help it, he smiled when he heard that greeting. Damn, this guy already knew what he wanted. That was always a good sign. “Oh my,” he said, doing his best George Takei impression. “I think I need your name, sailor. Except you’re not a sailor, are you?” The guy in front of him felt different, somehow, in a way that indicated he wasn’t a senshi. It was cheesy as hell, but as long as the cheese was for humor and not used as the bait itself, it tended to work out. He did a mock honorable bow and salute. “Sailor Cor Caroli, at your service. And you are?” He was going to touch that hair when he got the chance. How the hell did he manage it? (And, if all went well, maybe he could touch the butt too.)

Ploutonion laughed. Well, it was nice to meet someone so very receptive to flirting - if a little dorky. He could handle dorky, he was a theater major.

“Not a sailor, no. Ploutonion Page of Saturn.” He said, and he bowed, and on the way back up, he took Cor Caroli’s hand and pressed his lips, briefly, to the back of his hand. “It’s lovely to meet you, Sailor Cor Caroli. I haven’t met many Senshi, but you all seem to be so incredibly lovely.”

He let go of the other man’s hand, a blatantly flirtatious grin still filling his face. “So tell me, how long have you been a Senshi? I’ve had about a month, myself.”

If Cor Caroli had a tail, it would have wagged a bit when Ploutonion kissed his hand. How romantic, even if it was in a cheesy sense! This was going to go somewhere, wasn’t it? That was what tended to happen when two people who knew what they wanted from each other met. “It’s lovely to meet you too, Ploo- er, Plout. Ploutonion.” He was trying to make a funny with the name and then swiftly reconsidered it too late. When the Page asked how long Cor Caroli had been a senshi, he got a little embarrassed, putting one hand behind his head. “Well… a day. Or two. I’ve only been a senshi for, like, two days. The talking cat might as well still be following me.” He tried to make a recovery, hamfisted though it was. “But I’m not totally a greenhorn! I know… some things. Yeah.” He was really hoping that Ploutonion wouldn’t be turned off by how new he was to this powered business.

Ploutonion shoved down the urge to laugh at this overly eager puppy of a man. “Plouton is fine,” he said, “the full thing is a bit of a mouthful.”

Two days. Obviously Cor Caroli had not been thrown into this as viscerally as he had, but dispelling the man’s illusions seemed cruel, particularly when they were having such a charming flirt. “Well, at least you’ve got a good start. Any encounters with the Negaverse, yet?” He asked, his tone light. He would hate to find Cor had been as unlucky as him, but it seemed unlikely. He didn’t think one could come out of something that shocking with a blithe attitude.

Cor Caroli nodded. “Yeah, one guy. I was walking around the shopping district, saw some girl running lightning-fast out of an alley, and when I looked to see what was going on, there was my first Lieutenant.” He rubbed the sore spot on his side where the Lieutenant had landed a decisive hit. “I made fun of him for not having the right ‘finesse,’ and he was like ‘I can get any guy or girl I want’ and I kind of just kept going from there. He was okay, but not really my type. After a bit he got mad, we exchanged blows, and that was kind of it. I got out of there because I wasn’t really ready for a beatdown yet.” He sighed heavily. “All I can say is thank god I haven’t have to explain that bruise yet. But hey, at least you understand what happened, right?” His smile acquired a devilish twist. “You wanna see?”

Plouton did laugh a little, then. “You’re a lucky b*****d, they get vicious,” he said, but he brushed it off as a joke. It was easier to do that than to think about how true it was. A discussion about the Realities of War could wait for when he wasn’t having such a good time.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing, particularly if that means you’re going to take your shirt off.” He said, and his tone was just as laced with innuendo as it had bene the entire time. It was nice to have someone he could flirt with casually, or perhaps not so casually - Cor was receptive, and Plouton was absolutely not one to say no.

“I’m sure they do,” Cor Caroli said, though the words were somewhat empty. He really had no idea what the Negaverse was truly capable of, much less what had happened to Ploutonion earlier. Of course, there were more “pressing” matters at hand, namely that he had received a request to take his shirt off. Priorities! “Well then, let’s see what color of the bruise rainbow it is today.” He reached down to lift his shirt, and then suddenly stopped in a rare moment of using his head. “Wait. I don’t think I should strip here. I mean, it’s not like I haven’t run around naked outside before, but I don’t feel like being chased around by the campus police or whoever today.” He put his hands behind his head and idly shifted his weight. “How about this. We both power down and then we go somewhere else to get to know each other, yeah? Preferably your place. You don’t want to deal with my shitty dorm bed, trust me.”

Ploutonion raised his eyebrows and grinned wolfishly. “Was that an invitation to see more than your bruises, Cor Caroli?” He asked. “Perhaps give you a few? More pleasantly acquired than the one on your side, of course.” Almost casually, without thought, he let go of his powered form - there were no other auras nearby, no danger to it. Once again, he swept a bow, though this time without the hand kiss.

“Rhys Banner,” he introduced himself. “Tragically recent transplant from London, and student at your fine city’s University. And, apparently, the man who’s lucky enough to take you home tonight.”

“Oh my god, be gentle, will you? I’m very sensitive,” Cor Caroli said, laughing. With a s**t-eating grin still on his face, he released his powered form, fading back into the comfy t-shirt and jeans that he’d thrown on for today. “Ezra Cadwell, at your service. Also at a student at the ‘fine’ university. Hope you’re used to the car alarms going off at 3 AM. And the drunk streakers. I’m one of them sometimes.” With a swagger to his step, he hooked his arm around one of Rhys’s and gave him a Look. “Well? Let’s dance, Mr. Man of the Hour. Lead the way!”

Rhys laughed. "Have you been to London? I promise, I'm used to it," he said. But ahh, there were much more pressing matters to attend to than how acclimated or not he was to the university's particular noisemaking. Namely, the attractive man on his arm.

"Just this way," he said, starting off in the direction of his complex. "A few blocks, but not far at all."

Ah yes, this was the absolute luckiest night of his "career" so far.