It felt a bit dramatic, being carted by creaky boat to a nondescript town in the middle of the night for his first initiation task. While it was a given that he might be kept on his toes, he still had assumed that whatever initial job he was given would revolve around his skillset first and foremost. This was not to be, it seemed. Nothing about this screamed forgery or illusion.[break][break]

Ah well, it’s not like he’s never improvised before.[break][break]

Steal a pokemon. Any surprise he felt was filtered out of his expression. Fern blinked, then let his gaze slide in the direction that Tuesday pointed. It seemed perfectly suburban, even in the dark. A sleepy sort of town. He’d never actually been to Dewford–hadn’t cared to. Not that that really mattered. “Doesn’t matter which?” he murmured back in question, blue eyes darting back to the other man, though he was difficult to see through the gloom.[break][break]

Most homes had pokemon, so that shouldn’t be an issue. But it was important to pick the right one, if it was a matter between choosing a home that housed a relatively harmless pokemon versus something sturdy or threatening.[break][break]

And Fern was not in the mood to have his ass handed to him by a particularly enraged granbull, or something of that ilk.[break][break]

Fortunately, Fern was at least no stranger to breaking and entering. Perhaps a bit rusty at it, since that was more his wheelhouse when he’d been an unruly teenager, but still. He could probably spin it to his favor. Already, he was scanning the houses in the nearest distance for something that might denote a higher degree of success. Waiting for a response before he got to it.




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[attr="class","ooc"] Martín del Mar     | recruitment: act ii[break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-chandelure"]

Fern’s brow furrowed at the slight correction, blue eyes turning back toward the sleepy town. Draped in the shroud of dark, they all looked quite alike– quaint little suburbia at rest. Though, he supposed Tuesday was right. Some might prove more difficult to enter than others.[break][break]

“Uh,” he stared down at the offered gun when it was produced, “..thanks.” He wasn’t good with guns. The knives discreetly strapped to one leg and tucked into the interior of his jacket were the sorts of weapons he was more proficient with. Still, he didn’t want to seem inept, so he took the offering and checked the safety before sliding into his own pocket.[break][break]

“Seems like a loud option, but good to have on hand, I guess,” he chirped lightly, then promptly tipped his head toward the blond before turning to the task at hand. What he wanted was…something simple. Not heavily armed, like some of the more affluent homes he noticed. Though it could be any sort of pokemon so… his glance drifted along the street. Spotting the homes that had yards littered with children’s toys.[break][break]

Rather than draw attention by strolling along the pavement, Fern released his dragapult. She was good with these sorts of quiet maneuvers, and all it took was quiet motioning to a smaller house a ways down the row for her to use PHANTOM FORCE to send him down a portal that would spit him out beside the mailbox.[break][break]

He sent Tuesday a cheeky wink, fingers wiggling in a silent toodles, as he dropped through. Have fun patching that together, CCTV footage.

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[attr="class","ooc"] Martín del Mar     | recruitment: act ii[break]


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He peeks through the window at a distance, and noticing the TV light, promptly changes tack and crosses the street. He’s not about to chance a night owl, or stirring someone who fell asleep in the main area of the house.[break][break]

The house he swerves to is also on the smaller side—clearly these were built prior to the grandiosity of the others in the cul-de-sac. Remnants of a more standardized unit of buildings. This yard is also littered with toys, but there are no lights on, so Fern dances around the toys. Careful not to trip, as he edges along the exterior looking for the best possible entrance.[break][break]

Cecilia, with her ghostly body, fades and phases through the front door—confirming the lack of a fancy alarm system when she rematerializes on the other side.[break][break]

Rather than portal through and potentially land noisily in an unpredictable spot, Fern lands on a narrow basement window. Years of experience in his youth makes it easy for him to wiggle the latch loose to slide it open without breaking the glass.[break][break]

Then he slips through the narrow opening— the only noise a quiet thunk as his feet land on the laundry machine directly below it, paving the way for him to then hop down to the cement floor.

It’s thrilling—it makes him feel sixteen and mischievous again, doesn’t it. The dragapult drifts down, sliding through the floor above and through the ceiling. He flashes her an ok? gesture with his fingers in question, to which she lets out a quiet huff of confirmation.[break][break]

Up the basement stairs they go, then!

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[attr="class","ooc"] Martín del Mar     | recruitment: act ii[break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-chandelure"]