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Realgar raced motorcycles, rather than cars, but much of the same crowds tended to gather for either sort of race, which was why the Negaverse Captain rolled up on a black home built motorcycle. Safer for now than his youma partner.

He pulled up near a small gathered crowd and pulled off his helmet, glancing around the crowd with a frown, searching for the energy signature he'd detected. It took him a few moments to seek her out, but eventually the dull green eyes turned upward, and he raised an blond eyebrow sharply at her, looking away before any other eyes followed his gaze to the young woman watching them from above.

He excused himself from the crowd, knowing full well he was readily equipped to deal with anyone foolish enough to try and steal from him, and waited to make sure eyes were elsewhere before he leapt up to join her. Advantage of magically boosted strength and agility. Still crazy fun, regardless of the baggage that came with it.

"What, the DMC has to poach on my hunting grounds now?" He demanded, half kidding, as he made his way across the roof toward her. He knew she wasn't one of the Negaverse Senshi, and had learned the hallmarks of a Dark Mirror uniform, even though he was unfamiliar with this particular senshi.

She was a little young, he thought, to be eyeballing him like that, but then he'd been a teenager once too.

"I'm Captain Realgar." He offered, albeit with a slight frown. Something about the way she phrased things... but then... Senshi tended to be a bit short on the whole structure and order thing. "I'm with the Negaverse..." (obviously... he figured..) He could have offered that he was with Special Operations, but... they were on odd terms right now with the DMC.

"Street racing." He offered, though this much was obvious. "They'll get one or two in before the cops try and break it up, then they'll regroup somewhere else, or go outside of town. When they go out there I'll probably follow." Energy... starseeds... whatever. They were the fringe benefit to the race.

"Senshi... of Romance." Realgar repeated, in that sort of blank, not quite sure tone with which one might address someone who has just informed you that, on the weekend, they have really taken to wearing a live Octopus on their head.

There was at this point no level at which Senshi and their spheres didn't seem at least a little confusing, and he was attempting to figure out how magical and frequently annoying attacks could be tied to Romance.

Natron. Natron. He'd heard the name around, but he was having trouble putting it to a face. Probably because honestly he'd sort of stopped paying attention to most of his fellow agents, somewhere around the time he'd lost regular touch with Painite. Or maybe the beach party, where he'd been largely the 'designated adult' standing around near the grill. Many of the other agents were just... not his age or... like Tag... didn't strike him as someone he'd get along with. Tag was all suits and Swagger... so to speak... a bit less on the punching and the getting covered in motor grease.

"I dunno. Haven't asked him." He admitted honestly. "...Why's it important? And how does being the Senshi of Romance work?"

Maybe he did need to get out more, because the first images that popped into his head at the title all revolved around his collection of horribly written, ridiculous bodice rippers, and she didn't exactly fit the visual trope so far. For one thing she didn't look like she might... pop something... if she sneezed. Which was a bit of a relief, she, like many of the fighters in the war between Chaos and Order, looked a bit young for that sort of thing.