The Reporter

Ever since you arrived on this planet, you have been making quite a stir. Apparently a man flying around is something of which humans take notice, especially when you catch a plane falling out of the sky. He was amazed at how big a deal these people made out of his bio-electric aura's ability to repel projectiles and shield him from concussive attacks. Apparently 'bullet-proof' and 'invulnerable' make for catchy headlines.

One reporter in particular had caught your attention. The blonde haired Greta Glenn had written some hard hitting editorials speculating that you were too powerful to view human beings as your equals. She speculates that you are only capable of seeing the people of Earth as pets, or maybe livestock. She is warning the people of Earth that they need to find some way of fighting you off. She wants the governments of the world to build a weapon that can make you leave the planet.

Not only is Greta a perfect candidate for your seed with her athletic body and sharp wit, but convincing her that you come in peace with a mission of the highest cosmic importance, then perhaps the people of Earth will relax their prudish disposition and let you get on with your work without a fuss. You focus your super senses and find her standing on top of her balcony wearing only her underwear and a silk robe. Not that clothing conceals anything from you.
"I know you can hear me." She says, her words a slight slur from the half bottle of chardonnay she had polished off. "People want the truth. They want to know why you are here. They deserve to know." She said.
"What do you want?" She asked.

You fly down from your place in the sky and silently float behind her, you can smell her lust and know that she would be a perfect mother for your sons and daughters.
"Please. Tell me what you want." She whispers.