Miguel was often overlooked and underestimated because he played more of a hospitality part. But just because he wasn't a powered agent, didn't mean he couldn't have skills just as sharp or even sharper. He was ecstatic to find out that he would be used to interrogate one of the possible traitors to the company. He was happy with his status and standing in Pandora - of course, there were issues and tribulations with the place, but what place didn't have them. What terrified him more was that someone could be a true mole and lead to their demise or even death. And it hurt him to know someone that he tried to appreciate and cherish would stab them all in the back like that. It had kept him up since the news about it broke out. But now he had to play his part and keep everyone safe and secure - like he tried to whenever he made the agents feel warm and welcomed. His detainee happened to be Gossamer. The thing about being a temperance agent was that everyone underestimated you, and you didn't notice you scoping them out or knowing their likes. And what he had seen about Gossamer was that he had a weakness for his heavy pecs and his pretty face. So he geared up in something that would show that off and left little detail to what Miguel was packing up top with his meaty pecs. He wasn't sure if Gossamer was even a mole from their previous interactions, but a mole wouldn't make themselves known. Kismet entered the interrogation room. No Cameras. No one but Gossamer and him. His skin-tight shirt was attached to his body, and he moved into the room and saw the other sitting there. The pretty male moved to sit in front of him with a clipboard and sheets of paper. Let's get this started. He thought. Sitting the clipboard down, he leaned forward seductively. "Hey." The beautiful, warm, cozy, and comforting smile shined on his face, which usually drew people into the pretty boy. "Can you tell me your full name, call sign, and division?"
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