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Lieutenant Osumilite was slacking, relaxing on the rooftop with a flask of scotch and a cigarette dangling between his lips as he lay on the roof. To be fair, he was ahead of his quota in energy draining. With his mother in town providing extra stress and burden to his already stressful life, he had found the best way to take a load off was to drain more energy. Normally his fallback plan would be sex, but the current woman who caught his eye was being withholding and throwing him off his game.

When the voice called his name, he became immediately alert, the cigarette nearly fell out of his lips. The power signature was undoubtedly Chaos-aligned, but the voice was unfamiliar. He slowly turned his head to face the voice - it was a Senshi. One of the corrupts, no doubt. Was he sent there to punish Osumilite for slacking? Or was there other matters to address?

"You've got that right," Osumilite smiled as he removed the cigarette from his lips, taking a long exhale. "Pardon my French, Senshi, but who the ******** are you?"

"Another message from General-King Zinkenite?" he asked, a brow raised. He did not appear to mind - in fact, of any expression he showed delight at the recognition he was receiving as an asset to the Negaverse. Surely a promotion was in store for him if he was able to fulfill his duties properly. "What does our tiny blue-haired friend have to say?"

He rose the cigarette back to his lips as he awaited the message.

"I see," he paused. In silence, he slowly rose to his feet with his cigarette and flask, and dusted himself off. He lowered the cigarette, took a swig from the flask as he stepped into a tight, close range with the long purple-haired corrupt Senshi. What the boy was trying to get at seemed obvious enough to him, but he was considering his options.

"The implication is that the missing civilians are actually Senshi, protecting their little space heaven of short-skirtted evil - and you want me to report on it?" he questioned. His identity as Tag Swagger, reporter of Channel 6 News, was no great secret to the higher ranks of the Negaverse. "There's a slight hiccup in our plans there. I don't doubt what you suggest; however, the evidence is at best circumstantial and there's no verifiable witnesses. I can't go reporting something without any evidence, the public would have a fit. I need a story to spin, I can't just make things up out of thin air and expect people to believe me. I'm a journalist, not a minister."

"Unless you have some evidence," he suggested, a half-question. He brought the cigarette to his lips once more and lowered it, exhaling the smoke into Alunite's face as he stared hard into his eyes.

"Then it looks like we'll have some Senshi-hunting to do, won't we?" he smirked. "We'll follow them, capture them, beat them, whatever it takes to get the information out of them. If you hear anything, report back to me, will you, and I'll get the cameras set into place."

"In the meantime, don't tell the General-King that I was relaxing in the Negaverse uniform, would you?" he pleaded. It wasn't quite a beg or even much of a question, it had a sense of demand to it. He followed with a bit of a bribe. "Besides, I'm sure you could use a break as well. Come on, join me for a little."

"Tell me a bit about yourself, and drink up while you're at it," he gently slammed the flask of scotch into Alunite's chest for him to take as he moved his way towards the ledge of the roof, staring out into the night with cigarette in hand.

"********, man, I don't know, haven't you ever talked to people about yourself before?" he shot back sarcastically. God knows he was one to talk about himself. For hours. "If I need to hold your hand through this conversation maybe you shouldn't be drinking. Who are you? What do you like? What do you do?" His questions were all personal-related, so he tossed one in about their private work for extra measure. "What's it like being a Senshi? Etcetera, etcetera."

"Nothing wrong with a little world domination," he grinned. Hell, it was his dream. Not in the sense of oppressing the people, he still had a good heart. Nonetheless, he craved power - and lots of it; more power than would be right for a man to have. "It is the world destruction that worries me."

He took a final drag of the cigarette before dropping it to the floor and putting it out with this shoe.

"As you know, I'm a journalist. You've probably seen my segment on Channel 6 News. Tag Swagger," he flashed his much-practiced signature smile to the boy, as if it were to jar his memory and become recognized. "I'm thirty years old, live an awesome life, and am in the Negaverse. Yadda, yadda."

He grabbed the flask back from Alunite and took a swig.

"The Negaverse isn't really the most social bunch, huh?" he asked, offering back the flask. "Bunch of sociopaths, social recluses and sexual teases. Not the type you exactly want to party with. But damn some of those Negaverse women are fine."

"I hear you," he nodded as he took back the flask. He had a feeling he knew which agent's legs he was talking about. He remembered a nice pair of legs from his corruption. "Tanzanite's legs? They make a bit for her arm, that's for sure. I don't think she's the flirty type though. It isn't easy finding a Negaverse agent who is down to clown without you landing up in court....or dead. I've been talking to Painite and trying to work that out, but little action so far."

He took a swig and offered it back to Alunite. "You said you have a sister?"