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Once safely back at base, the first thing Grunt Nakura did after stumbling out of the driver's seat was race to the showers. After all that had happened, all the s**t he and the others had been through (both literally and figuratively), he just wanted to go to bed and sleep.

However, the grunt was irritably aware they still had to stand by in order to give their reports to the higher-ups along with the stolen pokemon they had managed to haul in. Even while he had accomplished the feat of the minimum goal, Izaya wasn't feeling so great.

He wasn't expecting to get a whole lot of praise from his superiors due to the fact that he had avoided most of the conflict and attempted to escape to safety far earlier than anyone else. While he had initially been under the assumption that stealth had been the top priority of the raid, when everything went berserk, he hadn't had much of an excuse not to stay behind and fight.

Well, there was two things: the fact that he had dismissed his only pokemon early and the other fact that a pokemon had been close at his heels after he had made his steal. Teamwork still wasn't something Izaya was used to, so all things considered, he was pretty satisfied with his work - conflict or no conflict. It was his instinct to avoid fights that were not his to begin with; not join in them. Still, maybe next time he could possibly make a better effort to be more helpful to his fellow teammates.

As he was drying off his shower, Nakura came into the rec room rubbing a small towel over his wet hair and wearing a grunt uniform he had taken borrowed from another grunt's closet. In silence, he stood behind the couch, watching and listening to the reports of the aftermath but saying nothing to the many other occupants of the room. He wondered absently how Xander had fared.

The first thing that Callista had done upon returning to base, apart from treating Tasanee with a super potion, was to return to her room, change back into her proper uniform , and rebraid her hair. She hated having it loose, partly because it really did help her seem more innocent - useful on raids but not when she needed to be taken seriously. Most of her team was resting back in her room, but Misa was much too energetic after having done well, so the Misdreavus floated along beside her trainer, sticking close and hovering just over her shoulder.

Should anyone seek to shoo the little ghost type away or order Callista to put her away, Misa was likely to mark them on her list of future prank victims (though she did know that certain uniforms were off limits, at least until her trainer wore the same kind!)

Callista took an unobtrusive spot in the corner and leaned back against the wall. Listening to the news stations blather on about the raid was interesting, but not exciting. Satisfying, if anything. Her gaze combed the crowd, looking for anyone she owed anything to - be it a report (later, judging by the atmosphere of the room), or a solid kid to the crotch. Just to keep a tally on things, of course. It wasn't like she would pull that kind of stunt directly in front of her superiors, after all.

Faleen stepped to the side when others started to come into the room, others gathering to get word on the mission, since the end result was missed.
Faleen didn't move from her stop though, arms folded, her hands cupping her elbows, that was, until Elite Nyx came into the room.
"Good evening Nyx" Faleen answered her, walking over to the side of the room Nyx had headed.
"As a mater of fact I think the DVR has it recorded. that was quite the punch you gave that chairmen, Nyx"
She unfolded her arms, placing a hand on the back of the couch and glancing for who had the remote. Spotting the strange, heavily tattooed Trainee on the couch with it.
"Trainee, please pull up the recording."

Jerome presumed she was talking to him, seeing as he had the remote. He didn't really give much of an acknowledgment to her request, but he did lift the remote up to do as she asked, didn't see a reason not to.

Well... Except one, he didn't know how to use the DVR, and that much was clear as he started pushing buttons, bringing up the menu screen on the TV, and shuffling through it blindly.

Faleen watched the fail with arched eyebrows.

For being such a small women, Nyx could be very fierce, this was clearly indication of that, as Faleen observed the bandaged hand.
"I can see that, ouch."

She showed a sheepish grin, shaking her head at Nyx's comment about being off duty, the Agent-now-Elite had to often remind Faleen to tone down on her formal professionalism habit. Though mostly, its becasue she didn't know what this man's name was.
"I'm afraid I don't recall your name, my apologies, I'm Faleen."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jerome shifted his glance sideways, looking past the strands of dreads falling around his face to the Elite speaking to him, tiny thing, though with hair like that, it was hard to not identify her as the one that punched that dude out on the TV.
"Sup' Nyx, Faleen" He wasn't going to remember that, light brown iris casting over anything he could use to remember her by... short statue, poofy white hair, and Elite uniform. the other, ordinary looking blond girl, Agent uniform.
He lifted a hand up in a casual, easy going wave "Jerome" He spoke, indicating that was his name.

"Oh my, pardon me for not knowing," Izaya laughed at Callista's prideful reply. "Next time I'll be sure to leave you to your own devices, then. For a moment, though, I thought I'd play at being a good teammate since - well, you know - it is called Team Rocket."

He watched the loathing in her features as she kicked off the wall, chuckling lightly to himself. It was so amusing to know how easily he could get under peoples' skin - even highly-trained criminals. Judging by Callista's course of actions during the raid, it must have been her first one as well. Either that, or she was just an incompetent thief. He didn't bother asking whether or not she met her mission objective regardless of ignoring Viktor. In all honestly, he didn't give a damn.

Though it may have been difficult to tell from his sneer, Nakura was just as eager to get away from Callista as she was from him. Thus, he was rather caught off guard when she continued their conversation with a couple of questions of her own. "Indeed they were~ Thanks for asking," he answered, tossing up his prize once more in emphasis, though why she even bothered to ask was beyond him. She wasn't doing a very good job of being subtle in her dislike of him if she was trying to be polite. He didn't think she really cared; unless, of course, she wanted to use the information against him in some way, shape or form. Well, he wasn't going to give her that satisfaction.

"Excuse me; I think I see someone over there I know. Have fun with your report~!" With a wink and a skip, the grunt made his way across the room to plop himself down in Jerome's lap as naturally as if the gangster were his grandfather and he were a child. However, this was rather difficult to picture due to the fact that the man being sat on was the exact same height (if not build) as the man who was sitting on him. Nakura placed his hands on his knees and watched the television with exaggerated eagerness, giggling at Nyx's punch. "Oh, I'm sorry I missed that live."

Faleen had to actually take the remote from Jerome before she was able to play the video for the others.
holding onto the control, smiling quietly at the TV, one hand resting on the back of the couch next to Nyx. "As I recall, that is the same man you encountered at the Poke'ball a few missions back" She said with a soft grin. This was her first time seeing this.

Jerome was content, sitting quietly and watching the TV, that was, when someone suddenly dropped out of no where and sat down right on his lap.
"Oof!" Jerome's eyes widened in surprise, staring at the back of this familiar person's head, completely still for a short while.

He couldn't say this happened very often, someone just comes over and plops down on his lap.
Well, looked like Furs was back.
"yo."
As calm as he usually was, first greeted the newly promoted grunt, than continued to reach both both arms to grab the man that was sitting on his lap.
One gripping his shoulder, the other his hip, Jerome growled softly, readying his upper body for a heavy and awkward weight. managing to get enough leverage where he was sitting to pull the skinny man up, than over his head where he was promptly dumped over the back of the couch when Jerome couldn't keep that grip for very long.

And of coarse, Jerome knew Izaya would be able to handle something like this, knowing Parkour, one knew how to fall without injury.
Jerome would not have gone to that extreme if he though it might hurt Izaya.

A chuckle followed this feat, and Jerome twisted his body to the side, draping an arm over the back of the couch. "Sup' Furs, kicks a** on the mission?"

Faleen's eyes had widened, having to step quickly out of the way to avoid being hit by the grunt that was dropped over the couch.

He had vaguely considered signing up for the raid on the contest, but in the end interest in the projects down in the garage had won out over what he assumed would be a simple stealth snatch and retreat. He had been fiddling around underneath one of the more advanced cars when 'breaking news' on the radio reminded him that one ought not to make assumptions. He couldn't help being concerned about Xander. What if he was hurt, or arrested? He should have gone along, he really should... Ah-ha, so that was what was causing the problem. Frowning to himself Frost retrieved the appropriate tool and got back to work. While his eyes were on the task and his hands carried it out competently, however, his attention was mainly focused on the radio report. He should have signed up for the mission.

After what seemed like far too long - the perception of time was an interesting thing - Frost heard the sound of the cars pulling in at the other end of the garage. A medical team had not arrived to meet them so clearly there was no pressing emergency which either meant everyone was more or less alright, or that one or more persons had expired on the way back and there was no point in hurrying. He supposed that meant there was no point in him dropping everything and rushing off either in that case, he might as well finish up here.

As it turned out finishing up took longer than he would have liked, a lot longer. Next on his agenda really ought to be getting out of his overalls and showering...

Frost wiped his hands off on a rag and set off at a brisk walk for the rec room often used for informal reports and debriefing.


The small blond who stepped into the rec room a couple of minutes later had clearly been busy at a messy job all day. His hair was disorderly, there was motor oil and grease on his overalls and a little still on his hands, plus a large smudge of oil on his forehead. While he was far more disheveled than he had ever willing been in public before his pale blue eyes were as cool as ever as he scanned the occupants of the room.

"Ah," his icy gaze settled on Xander, "there you are." Crossing the room he grabbed the taller blond by the front of his shirt and tugged him down so that he could reach to kiss him forcefully on the lips. After a few moments Frost broke the kiss and murmured; "Kindly do not concern me like that in future," into Xander's ear before releasing his grip on his shirt and stepping back to a comfortable distance. People were probably starting at him. Let them... He hoped he'd got the whole kissing thing right.