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The back half of PHANTOM FORCE lands true.
The first thing Fern noted upon stepping through the opening is Kazimir Wynter tipping backward as a result. A sight that draws a short bark of laughter from the admin before he sets to work. He shrugs as his presence is announced, figuring it was to be expected.[break][break]

A flash of DAZZLING GLEAM permeates the perimeter and despite their vantage, his dragapult still winces back from the bright light. Rather than launch a full scale attack, the translucent dragon floats backward, then up and away from the swirl of explosive petals smattering the league team. As Fern whistles to her to draw her near again, she releases a fanning cloud of DRAGON BREATH into the assembly of their opponents.[break][break]

Intended more in its paralytic effect than its physical. Both would a plus, though, of course.[break][break]

In a flash of light, cecilia is recalled, her work done. Replacing her is Fern’s gengar who LEVITATES around him, looking for the right opening.[break][break]

---

tldr; + fern is in basic tactical gear and in physical disguise[break][break]
+ appears behind the group as kaz alerts them! [break]
+ his dragapult sprays DRAGON BREATH at the group, aiming to paralyze[break]
+ preemptively swaps dragapult for gengar but makes moves yet.[break]
+ MP: dragapult affected by dazzling gleam +30 mp

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Frustration continues to fester under the surface of Fern’s demeanor. They would rather be the one to set up camp, but they were hopeless at outdoorsy sorts of things. In this, the anger turned inward, aimed at themself for being incapable.[break][break]

The question eventually sent their way is calm, bordering on serene.[break][break]

“No!” They bite down on their tongue to curb the outburst. Then they exhale a soft breath.[break][break]

They shake their head, almost furiously. Dark hair whips at their cheeks. “No, I’m fine. Just get some rest, yeah?” Fern chews on the end of their thumb, obviously agitated.[break][break]

The habit was one they’d worked to break, the reason they fastidiously keep their nails painted.[break][break]

“I can keep an eye out.”

The first thing of note would be the distinct shift in demeanor. Just as the disguise was shrugged off, so too was their false demeanor. In the haven of their shop—still a fledgling business here in Hoenn, they unwind and allow their true personality to bubble free.[break][break]

The surprise drew a laugh from Fern, head tipping back as inky dark hair brushed their shoulders. “Should you have?” they asked, laughter still curling on the ends of their words. “I may just be paranoid, you know.” They winked at him, grin cheeky as they shifted back toward their work bench to search for a notepad.[break][break]

As in, Michaelis was not the only one hiding away from eyes he’d prefer not see him.[break][break]

“Come, come,” Fern glanced toward a window before moving to usher the younger man to the back where their office was tucked away. “Sit, if you like. Can I see your notes?” Their question is patient, but they pause after a moment. Unconventional, but they have never considered themself to be wholly by the book— “Actually, how about you read them to me. Like you believe to really be about yourself, hm?” They raised an impassioned fist, “With confidence, dove!”

[break][break]

[attr="class","ooc"] mint frost // 3-ish? years ago // m: vying for attention[break]


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A small smile is offered in return as they perch against their desk and motion for her to seat herself comfortably in one of the plush chairs opposite, “Well then let us hope that is a ‘yet’ that never comes.”[break][break]

Not that they wouldn’t mind a challenge of course.[break][break]

They do have to acknowledge their curiosity—they know terribly little about one Elisabeth Fiorelli, but that is probably for a reason. Information that has been wrapped up and kept under lock and key from someone even as nosy thorough as themself.[break][break]

It wouldn’t have been the first time they would have encountered a case of secondary identity from one wishing to exit an old life. mint frost comes to mind—a fond connection given the fact that they’d personally handled the identification switch for the new beast years ago. Before Fern had ever affiliated with Rocket, in fact.[break][break]

They are not here to ply her for knowledge, though. And certainly, Fern is none the wiser about who she once was.[break][break]

“I’ve been in this business for quite some time,” they answer with a shrug. “It’s a precaution that made sense, and when I arrived here, of course I didn’t care to be found.” They have several false identifications, in fact. For anywhere they go, Harper Beck is simply the most common of these aliases.[break][break]

“I’m glad you agree, it’s a favored blend of mine.” They tip their cup in her direction. A vague cheers. “So, what exactly then, would you like me to do for you, then?”

[break][break]

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Why they’re playing this silly game on a rare night that they get jayden cross to themself is beyond them. Still…they can’t help but perk at the route that pops up. Instantly tapping it as their eyes glow with a feline sort of mischief. They temporarily abandon the laundry pile they’d been halfheartedly attempting to fold, and bundle up against the other admin’s side. “Look look. Daddy Walsh decided to show up.”[break][break]

They wouldn’t be caught dead speaking so brazenly out in the open, but even so, it’s more to get a rise out of his partner.[break][break]

I just tripped. Silly me...!

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"Certainly."[break][break]

With a sweep of their hand, they offer her access around the desk, toward the back. They opt to explain as they walk through a backroom with several neat stations housing printing equipment and book presses for restorative work. "All of our standard equipment is kept in here, but there's another room further back for our other practices."[break][break]

While they would be happy to turn this into a full tour, she is there for a purpose.[break][break]

Instead, they open the door to their office, holding open for her to step through first. Comfortably furnished, perhaps downright cozy, even. Well-lived in. It's a tidy space, but it's obvious that Fern spends considerable time there working. Dedicated to their business.[break][break]

But at the compliment, they demure. "Oh, you flatter me," they reply with a wave of their hand. "I'm just fulfilling needs as best I can. Can I offer you tea?" Fern gestures to an electric kettle on a cart in one corner.[break][break]

"Of course. I've already been tasked with creating new identification for some lower level associates." Their head tilts, blue eyes curious. "Have you been compromised, Underboss Fiorelli?" Surely not.

[break][break]

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Fern doesn't really consider the fact that it could be a HR violation. As far as they're concerned, this all began when Jayden still thought they were no more than a civilian.[break][break]

They chew their lip, considering. Mulling over the question before they take a long, slow sip from their glass. Heat licks up the back of their neck. Idly, they pat the frigibax that has long fallen asleep in their lap.[break][break]

"Well, it's not something that's been said in words."[break][break]

But could it be? They think maybe it might.[break][break]

Is that a weakness?