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[attr="class","star2"]Fingers drift across the spines of old books. Worn from years and years of use in the public education system. Idly, they study the titles with halfhearted interest. They’d be hard pressed to admit it, but Fern enjoyed reading. They liked their English classes, even if they’d started to turn their skills into an under the table profit.[break][break]

Today, though, they aren’t interested in finding some old novel to check out with the curmudgeonly old librarian up front. Sunlight slants through the tall windows on the far wall, warming the study tables that reside in that area.[break][break]

They wonder—will he turn up today? He’s not assigned to tutor them today, but Fern finds him here often. Hidden among the rows of books and tucked away like a dusty, displaced bookmark.[break][break]

The itch of impending summer is rife under their skin, and they have to know what he will do with all that extra time. If he isn’t holed up in the quieter parts of the school, will he do the same at home? Is there any possibility that Fern might coax him out?[break][break]

They lean against a shelf, battered copy of some old Steinbeck novel in hand. Not their favorite, truth be told, but they skim it all the same. Just until they spy a familiar mop of dark hair. Their lips twist with mischief as the book snaps shut in their hand with an audible snap.[break][break]

Definitely enough to draw his attention. Hopefully. If that’s not enough, Fern ducking around to stand in front of jayden cross with a chirpy “Hiya,” should do the trick.
[break][break]

---

jayden cross // high school au!!

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[attr="class","star2"]Though Fern prided himself on his ability to earn his keep, and allow his business to flourish on pure talent alone…he wasn’t above accepting additional funds, either. Like a greedy furret, he’d squirrel away what extra savings he could manage. And, well, if some of the wealthier benefactors among the organization wished the forgery and counterfeit branch to prosper for the glory of rocket, who was he to refuse?[break][break]

He wasn’t sure who would be dropping off the funds to further endeavors behind the scenes at Circinus & Sagitta, but he wasn’t about to assume each person who walked through the door might be said delivery person. In fact, many individuals who’d visited the shop that day hadn’t been looking beyond his front business at all. Looking for this invitation design, or that book binding. All of which he could easily do on top of his actual, under the table work. Though it did often get to be a hefty workload–even with Levy Alinsky now assisting him and learning the trade. There were a few grunts who doubled as part-time counter assistants, but they did little more than mind the place and watch over it when he had matters to attend to. Whether those be meetings, time spent on the sub, or seeing to whatever mission he’d been tasked with.[break][break]

All this to say that by the time the bell tinkled above the door and Naia Kayode made her appearance, Fern had sent everyone home and had been drooping against a desk in the back for some time. He popped up, of course (though maybe a bit groggy and reluctant,) at the sound and made his way out. An amiable smile fixed itself to his face as he regarded the young woman. Now, perhaps she was there to make a delivery drop, but perhaps not. “Hello there! What brings you in today?”

[break][break]

---

Naia Kayode [break]

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[attr="class","star2"]Verdanturf. Three years prior.[break][break]

Despite the finer exterior of the bar, promising the fulfillment of any drawing allures, Fern found himself painfully bored. Tonight, the flash of lights and the thump of the beat from the bass was lost on him.[break][break]

Why? Perhaps his fickle mood had gotten the better of him and he’d much rather be at home in all actuality. Or the locale had tired itself out, and he’d grown bored of visiting. It could be any vague reason that Fern chose to latch onto at the spur of the moment.[break][break]

Or maybe he’d not come across the right person to share the evening with yet.[break][break]

Typically Fern found little trouble in this. They built their own work schedule and wandered around the region on their own whims. They’d been in Verdanturf for a few weeks. In all likelihood, it was simply time to retreat back to Sootopolis for respite.[break][break]

Downing the last of their cosmo, they resigned themself to this—starting to slide away from the bar when the drawl of a new voice brought them back. Blue eyes darted to see honey blond hair and simmered red eyes, and on the turn of a dime, Fern was leaning against the bar top again, elbow propped and expression curious, though they cast the bartender a look as well. “Another cosmo, if you don’t mind.”

[break][break]

---

@zain[break]

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[attr="class","ferntitle"]Fern

[attr="class","deltitle"]Delaney

[attr="class","fernpost"]After yet another transport, they land in Ballonlea. Well, it’s Ballonlea and not. It’s certainly not the brightly lit city that he remembers from his own childhood. The Glimwood Tangle looms dark and oppressive to the south, and he knows that were he to stumble through the wood to the other side, his own childhood home would await.[break][break]

Or whatever was left of it.[break][break]

It takes most of his willpower (which is currently fickle at best, to not break for the opening and do exactly that. But jayden cross’s hand tightening around his brings Fern back to reality, and they glance at him curiously. Will he treat it this place the same as if it were the exact version of Ballonlea from his memories? It seemed so.[break][break]

The city seems wilted in a way, and noxious sludge trails and drips off surfaces, into streets. Fern’s first inclination is to join the fray of pushing back the lurching hands that appear, but at the other admin’s suggestion he pauses. “Alright, I’m not sure what you think we’ll find up there, but it might give us good vantage.”[break][break]
[break][break]

How can he not follow? His flutter mane floats up to accompany Jayden’s ceruledge, the bright, dazzling beam of power gem sizzling through the toxic sludge to deter them from reaching the civilians who are unable to help themselves. It is not Fern, though, who speaks to motivate these citizens, though. He finds himself uncharacteristically reticent in the face of their plight, as Jayden rouses their ambitions instead.[break][break]

The tide of his mood remains inconsistent. But for now he remains focused on the task of cutting anything around them down if it so much as looks at them wrong.[break][break]

The climb to the conservatory is still long and tedious—winding through bioluminescent mushrooms that have lost most of their glowing sheen. But the building remains in clear view, and so Fern calls back his flutter mane, then looks to Jayden. “Short cut?” he offers instead, as the flutter mane readies the potential opening of a phantom force rift, should it be agreed upon.
[break][break]
[break][break]

---

tldr;[break]
+ Ballonlea sure looks weird hehe[break]
+ flutter mane uses power gem to stop a sludge hand from following [break]
+ doing a climb to the observatory with jayden cross
[break][break]

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[attr="class","ftag"] jayden cross

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[attr="class","star2"]Once they hear the door open and Mint’s voice ring through the confines of their apartment, they expect to see bright green eyes just as quickly.[break][break]

But when neither he, nor Jayden turn up quickly, Fern frowns. With mild struggle, they pull free of the blankets they were just instructed to stay under. Already achy as soon as they start to hobble down the hall—a hand against the wall for support.[break][break]

Led by their eevee, Fern wanders out toward the doorway. Tiredly, their hand rubs at their face. “Mi—?” They stop short as the sight that greets them, squinting slightly. “Michail…is this really necessary?” Any chiding they might’ve bestowed on their partner for Mint’s sake is thwarted by a yawn that breaks through their words as they lean against the hallway’s doorframe and fold their arms. Any of their typical, cooler airs pathetically diminished by all the bandages and bruises.[break][break]

Fern doesn’t admit that the reason they slouch against the frame is that they still struggle to find balance, void of one ear. Instead, they smile as best they can manage. “Sorry or original plans got delayed, Mint.”[break][break]

Kinda sorta collapsing on THEO BECKETT might do that.
[break][break]

---

jayden cross mint frost // m: post-postdorm (repeat)[break]

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[attr="class","ferntitle"]Fern

[attr="class","deltitle"]Delaney

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The seemingly endless q&a quickly grows tedious to ever impatient admin. So there is a fair deal of satisfaction when the end finally does, in fact, come. And at the command of their own Pokémon, no less. Nimuë lumber back to their side and he recalls the typhlosion. Quick to recall her, he instead sends out his flutter mane. There is no telling what steps come next, or what escapes might be necessary.[break][break]

Across the short distance Fern meets Elisabeth Fiorelli ’s eyes and returns an appreciative nod of his own—a feat accomplished in joint effort.
[break][break]

Then mint frost ’s voice cuts in over the comms and Fern shifts in their friend’s direction. Arm out as he flashes Neon a thumbs up. Just like that, the burn of their indignant frustration and anger subsides. A mercurial cord of tension snapping in two. Their playful demeanor returns, but for how long?[break][break]

When the choice of departure arises, their hand squeezes jayden cross ’s in turn. A silent agreement with the decision made to head toward Ballonlea. “Do you think it’ll look the same?” they muse, casting the other admin a sideways glance. Fern tugs him in the direction of the portal, intent on catching up with Mint.[break][break]

After all, Ballonlea is not so far from his own hometown. The glimwood tangle a connection point between the two of them their whole lives without having ever known it. If these four cities had Mm were all that remained— “What’s become of Stow-on-Side?”[break][break]

[break][break]
[break][break]

---

tldr;[break]
+ oh phew it’s dead[break]
+ recalls h!typhlosion and sends out flutter mane in case he needs to scatter[break]
+ luckily does not! discusses his locale choice with his boo[break]
+ moved to catch up with mint frost [break]
+ we are going to ballonlea we’re sleepy tonite folks
[break][break]

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[attr="class","ftag"] jayden cross

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Amends have been thoroughly made. The burn of jealousy has long simmered and sputtered out. All that is left is the mix of affection and wanting.[break][break]

Though they may return to reflect on the feeling later, for now it is forgotten. Finally after going around and around, they’ve realigned. And admittedly it’s more than a little difficult to think about anything at all as hands and mouth find access to skin previously hidden under clothing.[break][break]

“Does it sound like I want you to stop?” They ask in turn, stilted by heavy breath. Their brows lift in their amusement. Though Jayden hardly gives them that room to reply, and just as quickly they lose their head again. Their legs hook around his waist as he lifts them with a sort of ease that feels criminal.[break][break]

Arms draping around his neck, they pull him in to mingle their breath again. Fingers curling into the fabric of his suit jacket. A careless laugh lifts between them as Fern looks down at him from their slight vantage.[break][break]

They glance beyond him, over his shoulder and then back again, lashes fluttering. Their hand sifts through dark strands of hair as they roll closer. “Don’t even think of stopping.” And then they are the one to descend again.[break][break]

Committed to the thrill of reckless abandon they both chase

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---

jayden cross [break]
+ outfit // hair // dragapult isp. mask[break]

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[attr="class","ferntitle"]Fern

[attr="class","deltitle"]Delaney

[attr="class","fernpost"]
The grass whistle sings through the air, above the din of clashing forces. It is when they begin to sink in the air, and the solar beam veers off course that Fern realizes his dragapult has drifted into slumber. As they plummet, he recalls her and readies the release of a new Pokémon to guide him neatly to the ground below.[break][break]

Before he can do so, however, he does not find himself colliding with the earth, but instead being suspended into the air despite the thrash of his limbs before they are stunned into stillness. He is not alone, but that does not make the immobility less tolerable. Calyrex pulls words up his throat to roll off his tongue in syllables that are not his own. The mangled union of four voices clashing into one sends an unpleasant shiver along his spine. The moment cannot end soon enough.[break][break]

And when he sinks back down to the ground, jayden cross is there to collect him. He releases a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Thank you.” No more than a murmur amid the questions asked of the calyrex as its steed sends out uncontrolled pulses of ice and snow.[break][break]

He has no questions for the creature who took his voice and controlled his movements. Irrational anger sputters to life as they glide over the opportunity to ask anything of the king of bounty. Nimuë springs forward on release. “Burn them down.” The ruff of flame around the hisuian typhlosion’s throat flares with brighter light as she sets loose and INFERNAL PARADE on calyrex, uncaring if it is quick or painless. Spectral bursts of flame hurtle toward its rotted head, one by one in procession.
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---

tldr;[break]
+ falling before calyrex hoists him up[break]
+ then caught by jayden cross uwu[break]
+ skips the ask me anything with calyrex and jumps straight into attack - releases h!typhlosion who uses infernal parade[break]
+ 1x salac used
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[attr="class","ftag"] jayden cross

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“I’ll do my best to provide any additional info I can,” he answers with a nod, as he tucks the shard away and turns to follow. “From what I recall, it was all a lot of…this.” He gestures around at the towering skyscrapers and defunct buildings. No greenery, no open spaces or withered parks. Though he supposed if there were any sort of flora, it would have crawled up the buildings and overtaken the city ages ago.[break][break]

“I wonder what happened.” It’s no more than a musing thought as they approach the old police station, though like Temp he recoils at the pungent scent.[break][break]

But he’s not about to stand around and become Megolopolan chow, either, so into the station he goes. As Calpurnia Kubrick shoves an old, bloated body out of the way he grimaces, but peers over her shoulder. “Glad you’re good at this sorta tech. See anything good?” He too, misses the blurry dart of their follower drawing nearer and around the side of the building, as he turns away to inspect the rest of the room.[break][break]

A hallway off to the side seems to lead to a long forgotten locker room. Curious, he steps away from the group. Footsteps echoing as his boots thump against the tile.[break][break]

He turns to look back over his shoulder, curious to see if any of the others have followed. Seeing no one, despite the pervading sense of some foreign stare. When he shifts to move forward again, though, he finds himself nose to nose with..a Pokémon?[break][break]

Initially, he’s not all that sure because the fact that it was looming just ahead of him, waiting, causes a startled bark of sound to volley up his throat. In turn, the creature snaps its arms together, shielding itself. Hand pressed to his chest, he blinks at the familiar outline in the lowlight.[break][break]

Is this a pigeon??[break][break]

No, no, it’s some other sort of bird, though. Fern isn’t too familiar with an island spirits native to Alola—perhaps he should’ve paid better attention to his history courses in school. But the tapu koko seems to know him. His head tilts to the side curiously as it slowly peeks back out, and then mirrors the move. Humoring his scrutiny for all of a few seconds before it starts prodding at him with the pinchers of one, shelled arm.[break][break]

It flits around him with buzzing insistence. Tugging at strands of hair and poking at his cheeks. “Woah, hey!” The exclamation does little to quell the island spirit’s investigation as it pulls at his jacket, clearly trying to rifle through his pockets.[break][break]

Like it’s been waiting for the chance. “Have you been tracking me? Clever bird…thing.” But the only thing he’s got in his pocket is…he fishes out the primal shard and the tapu koko goes still, honing in on it like a furret finding something shiny. [break][break]

“Uhhh, I found…something—it found me? Not sure,” Fern calls back to the others as he abandons his own investigation and returns to the office area. The tapu koko remains stubbornly fixed to his jacket—warily peering around his shoulders at the rest. Though the burnt orange plume its head would’ve been noticeable. He holds the shard out and away, and soon enough it abandons its caution and begins to attempt making grabs at the glittery gemstone again.[break][break]

All the while, the motley pair are unaware of the creaking sounds of something bumping into and around the hollow metal lockers of the room he’d failed to investigate.

[break][break]

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Cillian Quinn Tempest Quinn Calpurnia Kubrick // fern’s primal shard attracts the attention of a tapu koko[break]

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