He can still hear them talking and now he definitely feels like he should excuse himself and let them do-- whatever the fuck it is they would be doing if he wasn’t here. This feels a lot like flirting. Doesn’t Isaac have a girlfriend? Didn’t that break his heart, like, three hours ago? Oh, god, he was really not good at this socializing thing.

Before he could think of a good way to extrapolate himself from this scenario there was Isaac, hoisting chocolate-covered strawberries in his face. Kepler takes one with a slightly shaky hand, holding it between his fingers.

“I do not know how to do that,” he confesses in a panicked whisper, face still red from before, fighting back the urge to reach out and grip Isaac by his collar and scream HELP ME in his face. He doesn’t do it, though, by a hair’s fucking breadth, because Ash is back and grabs a strawberry and sits next to him and Kepler is somehow cold and sweaty at the same time?

“Sc-science,” he squeaks, swallowing his own tongue and struggling to put his feet back underneath him. “Uh, I mean. I also… play video games, sometimes.”

He was not a man of many talents. He was barely a boy of one.

Isaac Merlo Ashley Shepard

☉

The Ampharos lifted its head and blinked into the frozen wind, crystals of frost congealing in its yellow fur, leaving it the perfect target for the Sneasel’s finishing blow. It fell to the ground in a puddle of its own, half-frozen blood.

Kepler made little grabby hands at the lens-- “Gimme, gimme!”-- releasing Kuiper to help him grab at the remaining pieces and tip them. The fractured portion of the lens actually made it easier to twist and snap the other pieces, coming together as three undamaged sides of a whole.

“Yeah, grab that side, and I’ll grab this one,” he instructed Zilla’s Sneasel, and they hefted up one of the pieces. Kuiper lifted another all by herself.

It was a bit of a slog to the base of the stairs and out the door where Kuiper hupped the lens over the side of the cliff and into the sea. Inches above the water, leafy tendrils reached out to snag it and gently pull it under, as Uranus the Dragalge arranged the lens pieces in a matter that would allow her to drag them safely to a collection point.

Hands on his hips, Kepler looked up at Zilla. “Not too shabby!”

The moon, peeking through a break in the clouds, illuminated the silhouette of Hagakure as she quickly and quietly struck the Ampharos’ head from its shoulders, to ensure it was no longer suffering-- and wouldn’t be getting back up.

With the lighthouse out of commission, the Rocket op could begin in earnest. Kepler had done his part of the mission, succeeded in retrieving 3/4s of an expensive piece of technology, and hadn’t died!

“That’s a win in my book.”

Zilla Dumay
MISSION

☉

It’s okay, Kepler had played this wonderful, piece of shit game since early access, and he, too, had laughed at the name ball smith. He had actually voted in the poll that was made to decide whether or not to keep or change it. He had voted keep.

gallowsCalibrator well, you can hack and slash it if you really want. Some people do builds like that.
gallowsCalibrator but idk idk i think magic makes it more fun

And he throws up the ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ emote a couple of times for good measure.

gallowsCalibrator staple of boring.
gallowsCalibrator shit’s the cornflakes of game design.

He jumps in place, dipping in the direction he intends to go.

gallowsCalibrator blacksmith is this waaaaay

He starts running for the NPC’s forge, decorated in bronze and warm tones and tucked nicely into a mountain. The blacksmith was a very generic burly, black-haired, bearded gentleman whose idle animations had him going from the anvil to the front of the store, and back again.

gallowsCalibrator Here ye be. He’ll give you some intro quests about finding materials and fighting some level 1 baddies and shtuff.

[attr="class","mintag"] john nelson

Kepler snorted a laugh, resting his head against the outside of Ash’s arm. “I tried to grab one as I was, you know, free falling back to earth. Can’t imagine why I missed.”

It was… slightly a stretch on the truth. Pluto had had him slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. But Kepler had been otherwise occupied, with the meteor’s disappearance and the opening of rifts all over Hoenn-- a sight he’d gotten to witness from a bird-eye view, firsthand.

“We can find one together, anyway,” he added, hasty, not entirely prepared for Ash to go off and have his own adventures by himself, yet. Part of him knew it was just a matter of time, but Kepler wanted to hold on as long as he could. Those moments in the hospital and before, when he hadn’t known if Ash was alive or dead, or if he was going to be okay-okay, had been the scariest moments of his life. Even scarier than that time he’d gotten handcuffed to a bike rack and left on the street in a thunderstorm…

He shakes his head, dispelling the memories, grounding himself in the feeling of Ash at his side and the warmth and glamor of the night.

“We can mingle!” Kepler says, eyes still locked on Naomi Sato ’s Tera Shard; his endeavors to approach her and question her about it are interrupted by someone (angelo vestri ), who, by the tell of his handshake, is already doing something along those very same lines.

A Bulbasaur passes with a tray of beverages. “Or, um. A drink first? A drink first.”

He doesn’t drink often. Alcohol makes his heart do bass boosted hurdy gurdy. But he’s starting to get nervous, so he uses his free hand to grab something that appears remotely drinkable as the doors to the ballroom sweep wide and, like a current, they get drawn towards the dance floor.

“Do you want to dance?” he asked, looking up. “My parents made me take ballroom dance lessons as a kid. For some fucking reason unbeknownst to manki-- oh, shit, sorry!”

luka chêne ’s dreamlike, melodic swaying put her right on a collision course with Kepler’s drink arm, though he’s quick enough to jump out of the way as it hits the ground with a wet plop.

“I didn’t spill on you, did I?”

---

+ spill a drink oops

[attr="class","mintag"] Ashley Shepard luka chêne
outfit | mask | hair

Kepler didn’t really do formal… or outings… or especially formal outings. But when your entire life comes yea close to ending, and then it doesn’t, going to the party celebrating your survival is kind of the least you can do.

Ashley Shepard looked absolutely stunning, like… like if winter and a fancy sports car had a baby. That was weird. But accurate! He wasn’t an English major for a reason.

To his absolute surprise, Kepler also felt stunning. Who knew dressing up was so nice? Sure, it definitely helped that he got to hide behind a mask.

Most of his outfit was thrifted last minute: black spaghetti strap minidress and zipper boots. The jacket he’d bought to riff off of Ash’s black and gold ensemble-- and where Ash had elected to use a classical raven doctor’s mask, Kepler’s half-face covering was carved in the shape of a fox. He’d braided his hair and tucked it back up and over his head.

Maybe it was breaking tradition to not be in a voluminous gown or proper suit but this jacket was Dolce & Gabbana and had cost more than some of the crap in this museum combined.

The limo was pink. Pink. How ostentatious. He was positively giddy. He felt like a fucking princess.

“You’re not missing much,” Kepler assured him, latching onto Ash’s good arm-- he let go a little with a sheepish smile. “Some of the art is nice, though.” They cut through the cold and the crowd like the sound of the strings that floated above them. Kepler’s hands are sweaty as he fumbles for his and Ash’s tickets to hand to the Mime door guards-- but the paper really is high quality, as it hides the sweat stains.

Once inside, he clung to Ash while simultaneously scanning the crowd for anyone he might recognize offhand. None of the faces stood out to him… but something else did.

“That--,” he said, pointing to the gemstone glimmering on Naomi Sato ’s outfit, “--that’s one of the crystals that fell when Rayquaza hadouken’d the remainder of METENO that didn’t warp.”

Either the individual was a part of the whole farce or they’d gotten lucky enough to snag one without getting brained. Either way, it seemed silly to Kepler to weave such a piece of… technology? Magic? He didn’t know what the fuck to call it, but to wear it seemed horrifically vain.

“Pretty dress, though.”

She wasn’t the only person going for the star theme. Elinor Anderson also had a gown of astral beauty. Kepler frowned a little to himself, feeling like he missed the mark, though he felt like he was more creative than some of the people who just wore suits…

He shook his head lightly, clearing away the thoughts. This was supposed to be a fun evening, not a judge everyone evening. He was just nervous.

“Did Isaac Merlo say if he was coming or not?”

---

+ prompt 6 fashion, fashion, fashion
+ prompt 7 hot or not?

[attr="class","mintag"] Ashley Shepard Naomi Sato soft tag for Elinor Anderson Isaac Merlo
outfit | mask | hair

Kepler and Mars are like the Lewis structures of lanthanide molecules: unreasonable, unstable, and, unfortunately, doomed to exist despite their unlikeliness. They occur somewhere, for some purpose.

For this specific instance, Kepler doesn’t like that Mars is lecturing him on the multiple facets of life, which would be easy for him to profess given he’s, like, home to a thousand and one single-eyed organisms all peering at everything, or something. Kepler doesn’t actually understand how Mars’ quote-unquote avatarship works.

“I guess,” is as much as he’ll allow, because for all his faults, maybe he’s becoming a better person, and maybe he doesn’t want to entirely rain on Mars’ parade, or whatever hifalutin the world is dark and beautiful scripture he’s satiated himself with getting off on.

“...I do like space.” He tosses back the remainder of his drink and sighs, plotting a course from the refreshments back to the Mossdeep scientist. “I’ll get out of your hair. And try not to ruin your party. Have a good night and… hopefully I’ll see you on the other side of the apocalypse.”

It manages to come out not-defeated as he excuses himself from present company and puts on his big boy pants to go out and make it through the night.

Martín del Mar
we stan a genderfluid monarch

☉