"Ah." Feels a bit like fibbing to a teacher, tossing out a story like that to someone that's likely a touch too sharp for it. That said, Chloe doesn't falter: fixes her attention elsewhere (the shuffling flow of a facility designed to handle emergencies is a lively enough excuse, the stockpiled medical equipment even more so) before she angles a pleasant smile his way, offers up her free hand. "Chloe. Chloe Frazer."

It stays there as she waits for some sort of reciprocation. Over the curve of his shoulder there's a clearly labeled storage room meant for immediate cases; something of a beacon for someone fond of managing their own disasters.

"No fancy titles included."