Pluto's eyes snapped open at the statement. Her violet eyes lay on a young man. He looked around her age, maybe his mid 20's. She could tell he was a foreigner, his features were too western, no trace of mixed lineage. A mix of red and brown hair matted his head, while green eyes glared at the youma. For a moment, Pluto desperately hoped for the mans green jacket, completing his ensemble of a black T-shirt and blue jeans.
"That's enough? Well if that's not cliche, then I'm Queen Beryl." Ara turned her head to address the interloper. The youma still had Pluto's skirt in her grip, the only remaining article of clothing for the trapped senshi.
"That's what I said, let her go." It seemed right out of a tv show, one of those poorly acted soaph operas. Pluto would have given a small laugh if it wasn't real. She shook her head, remembering humans basest desires. He wouldn't help her. He would merely exacberate her condition for condition. She was still thinking of the immiment betrayal, before she looked at him.
Those eyes! Having been around for millenenia, Pluto had become adept at readings peoples thoughts and emotions through their eyes. In the youths eyes, what little lust was tempered by restraint and compassion. Pluto felt warm relief at the thought, before becoming worried. The man had no powers, and was just as fragile as any human. How could he defeat a youma? Looking closer, she noticed the man held some fear, but was putting up a brave front.
"So tell me stranger, how do you expect to defeat me?" Ara was torn between being annoyed or amused by the mans 'cheap heroics'. The man took a deep breath, reached into his jacket, and pulled out a...
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