Iphigenia Courtlandt lounged at the dining table at the new “Fort Five,” demurely sipping on a cup of hot jasmine tea. The purple-haired girl looked sharp as usual, though her hair was done in a cute headband crown braid instead of her usual sidetail. Wearing a stylized suit and tie getup with a jacket that transformed into an attractive a-line dress that ended at her knees, she looked every bit the cool, corporate boss.

It was an image that she’d leaned hard on in the wake of the defeat and collapse of the Thremont Corporation and the Final Five’s subsequent rocketing to fame. As the most identifiable of the Final Five, a bona-fide British aristocrat and majority shareholder of one of the larger companies in the world, Iphie took the greater share of the attention on the group, and as somebody who much preferred being out of the limelight, all of it was unwanted. 

Though, it was a sword that she conceded was better for her to fall on than somebody like Kyouko, because even if she received the majority of the bullshit, with her social status she was also in the unique position of cutting through said bullshit without additional help.

Even though somebody had leaked her personal cell number sometime in between, hiding oneself behind a team of corporate lawyers and secretaries to avoid being swamped by attention and scrutiny was unsurprisingly effective, after all. Those were resources that she also extended to her fellow team members, although Mason, John, and the rest of the supporting staff in the organization had done a fantastic job of neutralizing the particularly egregious red tape that the Final Five’s newfound attention had brought. Iphie had been very thankful that matter had been dealt with and wasn’t something she’d have to personally take care of. 

Regardless, she dealt with it all by taking a more active –if temporarily—involvement in the Courtlandt Group in her board capacity. With the collapse of the Thremonts, it was a necessarily evil anyway; although the Final Five as a group received most of the corporation’s liquid assets, Courtlandt Group inherited enough of the Thremonts’ and Heavyware’s technologies, supply chains, and secrets that it necessitated her personal involvement in the matter.

It had only been recently that she’d gotten a much deserved vacation over the past couple weeks, and it seemed like quite a bit had changed in the meantime. She had some beef with the “Fort Five” name, but the new headquarters were pretty snazzy, all things considered.

Iphie flicked through the files and dossiers in front of them as John gave his briefing. She didn’t have much to say about most of it; all of what their resident intelligence agent had said was sensible enough, and the recommended new hires looked qualified. Iphie wasn’t against supplying the team with her own tools and toys, but having a dedicated personal armorer for the group was nice, and gave a nice outside, unbiased perspective when it came to her own equipment. Getting some additional help for Mason and Amoix with the expanded headquarters made sense, and having an expert doctor of exotic ailments and equally exotic treatments on call was more than welcome. The bureaucrat drew a little more of her attention. Considering that Iphie was from the UK, and thus the European Union, she couldn’t help but to judge the bureaucrat just a little bit. Altogether though, the credentials looked flawless along with the rest. John had vetted them well.

She raised her hands in wry objection once John’s words were directed at her.

[b]“Oh, no, I deal enough with politicians and their ilk in my other life as is. Hard pass. That’s not to say I won’t tag along if there’s a particularly tricky matter that needs an extra hand, but I’ll otherwise trust in the judgment of our new hires. Once they’ve been fully vetted, of course.”  [/b]

She chuckled as he moved along to their leads, taking a few files in her hands and idly flipping through them.[b] “Yeah, everybody’s got an agenda now. The cat’s out of the bag, but I’d rather us not be treated like some glorified PMC,”[/b] she replied, frowning at some files in her stack before tossing them back away from her before commiserating with Jin-Sun. 

[b]“At least if they show up here, Mason will chase them right out, mm?  I’d also be interested in seeing what tricks our new armorer has, although I’d like to have a chat with the European Union diplomat, too.”
[/b]