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It wasn't often that Arcadie was in a bad mood, but it was one of those days. She'd worked long and hard the previous day to steal a grand total of six pokemon from various innocent civilians around Camphoreon. It hadn't been terribly easy, especially when everyone wanted to resist and her own pokemon were only half cooperative, but she had gotten the job done and returned to the base with every pokeball accounted for.

...Or not, she learned the next day as she reported for her daily assignments. Two short of your quota, they said. But I brought back six just as you told me, she said. Six vanilla pokemon trained to adequate levels, they said. This one is too inexperienced and this one has already been genetically modified, they said. You take them, they said. They'll be fine additions to your team, they said. (Arcadie had taken due note that she'd been barred from interjecting her own comments early in the conversation.) The meeting had left her with a reprimand and two new pokeballs in tow, a friend ball and a luxury ball. The creature in the friend ball, a Drifloon, didn't seem that it would be too problematic - indeed, it was so untrained that its previous owner hadn't even assigned it a name, so Arcadie took it upon herself to designate the adorable little balloon - but the other one was already giving her trouble.

On being released, the cutely-colored little fluffball of a Flareon had sweetly bared its teeth at her, bitten her hand when she tried to befriend it, and taken off past her and through the halls in her surprise. Just what she had always wanted, another disobedient pokemon.

Arcadie scarcely registered that she had passed another Rocket. She didn't need the dumb Flareon pissing off a superior officer and getting her in trouble. The pair were still in Asch's general vicinity, however, when the woman took action, releasing the only fully compliant pokemon on her team from his friend ball and pointing to the fleeing fire-type, "Stop that thing right now!"

The Drifloon - Flooter was his name, apparently, but he was still getting used to it - chased after his target and wrapped it up in a gentle Constrict to prevent it from escaping any further. With a pleasant expression, the sentient balloon carried the flailing Flareon until they were both directly before who he understood to be their trainer. Arcadie pursed her lips at the less peaceful of the two creatures, leaning slightly forward with her hands on her hips, "And what do you have to say for yourself? You can't just go around ignoring your trainer, you know? One might think you'd been learning from Ghosty."

The Flareon gave up on its wild movements when it became obvious that they would achieve nothing and instead took to a hateful growl.

The Flareon's flattened ears raised suddenly, his posture arching with interest, before he returned to his previous appearance - though he dispensed with the growling. Mieu knew his Master anywhere, from appearance to voice to scent, and though he wasn't completely certain where he was, he was sure his Master wasn't with him. All Asch's sudden appearance confirmed was the worst.

Arcadie noted the pokemon's change in disposition and turned to see what had elicited the response. She blinked briefly, temporarily silent, before a broad smile spread on her lips, "How clever! What's this, a pokemon trick?" She moved away from the Drifloon and Flareon to get a better look at the being that so closely resembled the Flareon's rightful owner. She inclined her bright eyes towards Asch, "I thought he looked familiar! It's a brilliant copy, what you've got here, but health and wellness is my best subject, you know; there are definitely differences."

She waved her hand lightly, "Oh, I'm sure anyone could tell you apart if you stood next to each other. It's the difference between a healthy person and an unhealthy one, you know?" The pokemon's abilities - a Zorua's illusion, was it? - were enthralling, and Arcadie spared a moment to applaud the dark-type's mimicry when it returned to its form before folding her arms behind her and sparing a glance over a shoulder at the Flareon. "So, if you're related to that guy, do you know this thing?"

Mieu's dark blue eyes watched Tyke as he gave his greeting, but the fire-type gave no response. As if this was any sort of situation for pleasantries. He didn't want to talk to the Zorua unless it was to hear news that Master was well or that there was an easy way to escape.

Ooh, scary. She shifted her weight to one foot, swinging the other idly back and forth. "Oh, I don't know. I wasn't doing an examination or anything, so I'm just going off of context clues. Going off of appearances, looked slightly underweight, had a poor complexion, somewhat shorter of breath than he should have been given that he didn't do a whole lot of fighting back, et cetera et cetera. From that little, it could have been anything from the early stages of pneumonia to long-term stress, really." She didn't really question why he wanted to know. Her business wasn't in the affairs of others, but medicine was always interesting.

The matter of the Flareon was something she was a little more willing to get herself interjected into. Arcadie gave an intrigued hum as she regarded the pokemon and turned her attention back to Asch. "Thing's a wreck. Little bugger scratched me not too long ago," she held up her hand as evidence. "I've got enough trouble with the pokemon I've already got and now they want me to take this thing too. Honestly! Sometimes I worry about Ghosty killing me in my sleep; I'd rather not have to deal with Scratchy here on top of that."

Arcadie's friendly smile never left her lips. She wasn't really sure what that reaction was all about, but again, it wasn't really her place to be sure about that kind of thing. Even properly licensed doctors stayed out of people's personal affairs.

When he responded to her monologue, she shrugged excessively, still smiling as brightly as ever. "Oh I don't think anything like that. I think it'd be nice if you cared at least enough to tell me where I can get a pokeball lock or something, but I'm not holding my breath or anything." Maybe the Flareon would be a bit more compliant after being forcibly confined to its pokeball for a while. If it was a war of attrition she was fighting, she had utmost confidence that her own energy reserves could outlast whatever resistance the furball put up - though she would have preferred if it could just not be her problem at all.

"Dunnooooo," she said in a vaguely sing-song tone. "You outrank me, for one, and you've been here longer than me, for another, so I thought it was worth a shot. Flooty here seems to have things under control for now, though, so I'm sure it'll work out." She placed her hands on her hips and sighed dramatically, regarding the Drifloon with a sidelong glance. The balloon returned her gaze contentedly, lowering himself slightly so the Flareon's feet touched the ground and took most of its weight off his strings. Mieu, though briefly inspire by contact between his paws and the floor, quickly recognized that the strings would just tighten around him again if he tried to run away. And where would he run to anyway? He didn't know anything about this place or the people in it, least of all where the exits were or what he would find outside...

"Yes, sir!" she exclaimed, saluting suddenly and enthusiastically. The gesture was short-lived, though, and she soon returned to a more casual posture. "Most agents and stuff get all mad at me when I do the respecting-a-senior-officer deal. Think I'm not serious or making fun of them or something. Then I noticed that most people are actually pretty laid back with each other, and I've had much less trouble since then!" Not that she assumed he cared in any way, but if he was going to be so curt and grumpy then she would just have to generate enough conversation for both of them.

Mieu leaned away slowly as Asch approached, his ears flat and his tail whipping alertly. In this kind of situation, he almost felt inclined to take some solace in the fact that the boy resembled Master so closely, but the differences that were there were too stark to overlook, and he couldn't find any comfort in a passing resemblance.