“Saving people’s lives seems like a pretty big impact,” Kepler agrees, the gentle intonation of his voice hinting at the sarcasm. His voice was a little shaky and he, thankfully, didn’t notice Ash staring because if he had he maybe would have died for real. Or thought there was something wrong with him or gross on his face because that’s usually what was the case when people stared at him.

His body was still rigid, like he was sitting on glass, and any wrong step would end up getting him punctured. Isaac’s hand on his shoulder was a grounding weight-- but a weight, all the same, and he swallowed hard.

(He was unused to being touched in ways that didn’t make him hurt.)

“Has he told you the Mew-Man story?” Kepler asked Ash, leaning forward to look around Isaac. “Because he hasn’t told me. Though whoever came up with that name really needs a better one.”

Though Isaac’s praise does make him flush. His eyes cast towards the ground. Something Ashley says catches him off guard: “Orphanage?” he parrots, then winces, like he’s been struck. What a fucking asshole: yeah, why don’t you draw out the stranger’s past trauma and then focus attention on it. “Sorry.”

He almost says I thought orphanages were just made up in movies but bites that part of the statement off before it can escape.

“Mercury and Gaia did most of the work. And Oort.” Oort, who had taken a potentially fatal blow for them, and traded it back. Oort who had bound his life to the Mega Swamperts and then willingly fainted to bring the behemoth down.

He didn’t appreciate the Wobbuffet enough, actually.

“Doing stuff like what?” Kepler asks, voice harsh in its flatness. “I’m just a scientist. All the stuff I do with-- the organization, is just stuff I did before. Except with more danger and the threat of legal retribution.” Ash didn't need to be a Rocket to have hobbies and do stuff, is what he was saying.

Isaac Merlo Ashley Shepard

☉

Kepler doesn’t think he’s smiled this much ever, in his life. Ridiculous. He felt like he could take on the world. If they ever learned to capitalize off of people’s energy-- bottle it directly from the source-- he was pretty sure he could power a whole city.

And, huh, had he ever realized that Ash’s eyes were silver? They were beautiful. He only belatedly realizes he can realize this because the taller man had pulled him closer. There’s a beat where Kepler’s hopeful (terrified?) that something more is going to happen and then Ash pulls away. The world rights itself, where it had been spinning dizzily. They continue to hold hands.

Merc and Sunny lead the way to the next house. Kepler barely notices the decorations, realizing he’s anxious for the out and about portion of this endeavor to be over so they can move on to what’s next.

Whatever that might be.

The big scary man on the porch oohs and awws over them and Kepler preens in it, beyond excited that people are calling him Viktor Frankenstein and not Frankenstein’s monster because there’s a key difference there and-- oh, they’re moving on.

“Do you normally do this?” he asked, jittery with nerves at the prospect of only one more house before Ash’s place. That had been the plan. “Go trick or treating?”

Ashley Shepard

☉

They might be the only ones to make it to the meteor’s surface without flaw but their good luck dries up quickly.

In what is quite possibly the funniest fucking thing Kepler’s ever experienced, the MONSTER MASH gives a violent shudder and Pluto loses his grip on the hull. Kepler and Ruby Garcia are deposited safely, if a bit roughly, on the meteor’s surface, but both his Beheeyem and her Garchomp fall the seven or so feet straight down onto their faces.

It’s so funny-- it’s all so astronomical, that’s exactly what he thinks, and the pun makes him lose it, a little, lost in the spectrum of absurd bullshit he is currently riding like a fucking UVB manta ray, and a delirious giggle escapes him. He claps his hands over his mouth-- well, over his fucking space helmet and he really struggles not to continue laughing, hoping it just seems like a bit of punched-out feedback over the comms.

It isn’t a cave is the second thing he notices as he looks up into the shadow of the rock formation, and is just absolutely floored that he’s disappointed. He’s standing on a fucking meteor, essentially pore-to-pore with an apocalyptic hyperformed region-sized hunk of star dust and he’s disappointed that it doesn’t have a fucking cave on it.

He doesn’t have much time to ruminate on it though because his reinforcements (they’re not his really but, shut the fuck up) and their League taggers on come splashing into the toilet bowl like the big turds they are; well, that and, you know, lots and lots of shrapnel and debris. The sky lights up like a rainbow as mint frost ’s Abomasnow conjures aura in an atmosphere-less environment. Another fucking marvel of science.

Speaking of apocalyptic, there was literally a battle between three different Legendaries (four if you counted Killian Decker ’s deoxyribonucleic passenger) happening in the space-- literally the fucking space-- above them. “What the fuck are our lives, Rubes?” Kepler asked, making sure the key to their private comm was pressed, the absurdity of it all pulling him into some orbit of geniality. “What the fuck is even happening anymore?”

Someone (Cain Toman ) lands and throws up another protect around them. By this time, Pluto is up and shaking the meteor dust from his face. Kepler turns towards the mineral deposit, tapping the readouts on his helmet to check in on the cameras he has running: one in his helmet, one in his chest, one in each palm, and one on the top of each foot, meant to record every part of their amazing, world-saving, life-changing venture for posterity (and research’s) sake.

You can take the boy out of the PhD program…

There’s a lot going on and people are landing everywhere-- but Kepler’s not here to fight, he’s here to do some fucking science. “I’m heading for the deposit,” he radios to those in proximity (namely Ruby Garcia and Cain Toman ) “so if you could cover me that would be dee-lightful.”

He recalled Pluto and released Andraste, giving the Dragapult .02 seconds to orient herself before he grabbed onto her head fins and ordered her to dragon rush towards the mineral.

_7d5Wgod

Ruby Garcia Cain Toman
tl;dr
this is probably the funniest fucking post i've ever written?
kepler lands and his beheeyem sustains some damage.
he is recording everything from, like, six cameras on his person. he's not streaming them, just recording them, like a-- a mars rover.
is mildly disappointed that there's no special cave on the space rock.
swaps beheeyem for dragapult and grabs onto her head fins and instructs her to dragon rush him to the mineral deposit.
Dragapult's ability is INFILTRATOR which allows it to pass through barriers so hoping this helps with stuff around the mineral?

☉

[attr="class","top"]

Kepler had been finalizing his enthalpy calculations on combustion engines for his space pod when the URGENT email pinged his inbox. He ignored it for a while, but it kept going off until he clicked it.

It was from Rocket HQ, explaining he’d been selected to go to an old control lab and sus out why weird shit was happening. Long abandoned, the place had been popping up on Rocket’s energy grid randomly over the last couple of weeks, suggesting someone was fucking around with the equipment. That, and people in the vicinity had been reporting odd lights, strange sounds, and a flurry of other observances that would lead them to believe the lab was back up and running.

Kepler pressed his face into his hands and sighed. “It’s just ghosts,” he moaned, piteous and tired and far too occupied with space stuff to go off on a wild goose chase and sus out the Haunters and Rotoms that were causing trouble.

But that was how he ended up sliding out of the big, black SUV passenger seat into the cool, Hoennian fall night. His combat boots crunched on the gravel as he stared up at the expanse of the abandoned lab, a honeycomb of small, rectangular windows, like an electrophoresis gel filled with vantablack.

The door to the driver’s side shut and it was like thunder in the quiet night. Kepler sighed, hands in pockets, as his protection detail (that he’d insisted upon) came around the front end of the vehicle.

“I can’t believe they have me out here for some stupid ghosts,” he muttered, as he fished the keycard out of his pocket and stomped towards the front door.

Ruby Garcia
set just pre-PAAA
wearing

Earth’s upper atmosphere, and the space beyond, became subsumed in a deluge of data that sent his readings spiraling. The sound up here was dampened due to the thinness of the medium, so Kepler was forced to translate between the spiking of numbers, the flaring and flashing of needles, and the vaulting of stacks of LEDs.

The MONSTER MASH shook a few times, violently enough for Kepler to feel like this was the end, the craft was going to jostle apart and he was going to be either lost in space or ripped apart in the League-Rocket crossfire.

Then, silence. The readings stabilized.

“Holy shit,” he said, voice barely more than a whisper, eyes wide in disbelief. Then, louder, “HOLY SHIT! WE DID IT, RUBES! WE FUCKING DID IT!” with enough volume to cause the comm link to backsplutter static.

He was doing a little happy dance when Lulu called out to prepare for landing and he finally opened the viewport on the MONSTER MASH. He was staring, impossibly, into the void of space. His eyes jumped from starblip to starblip wondering how far away they were, running through gargantuan numbers.

Looking down, he saw the meteoroid. Saw the cluster of whatever the hell they were supposed to be here to grab (he recognized it faintly from the blurry, pixelated images that had been lecture-beaten into their brains.) He knew where the unidentified material was but he was torn between grabbing it like a good little astro-soldier and his innate curiosity for being one of the first human beings to set foot on a fucking meteor. Also, that spot was going to be where most of the action was, and despite his gung-ho attitude, Kepler did not want to die.

He directed their vessel to land a bit away from the hot spot in question, towards a mysterious dark spot that could’ve been a cave, or could’ve just been striations in the rock as affected by the low atmospheric light.

Back to the radar, he watched the waves of recognition ping off the dark purple blot that was Lulu Flint ’s vessel. It was also bouncing back from a number of unidentified forms in space: League interlopers, he assumed. “God, they’re so fucking petty,” he said, a sudden spark of anger and frustration, “they can’t just let us have this.” Whatever this was.

He ran through the protocols to engage the MONSTER MASH’S landing gear, knowing that this was when they were going to be the most vulnerable. A last-minute check made sure his gear was secure, his O2 tanks were full, and he pressurized his space suit.

“Pluto, protect,” he instructed again, as the hydraulics of the door hissed and began to whirr. He stepped out into the protective bubble, appearing remarkably placid for all that he was freaking out inside.

SPSoy7Of

Ruby Garcia et al
tl;dr
kepler's landing the monster mash closer to the cave/not-cave to be clear of the fighting and also cause he selfishly wants to explore
has beheeyem use protect again on himself and ruby to allow for disengaging from the ship/coming to the meteor's surface in the protective bubble

☉

Kepler is still grinning around loose giggles that threaten to spill.

“It was. Really corny, I mean.” He bites his lip, to stop from collapsing into laughter again. “But it was also… kind of cute? And very silly.”

And it was like his whole world was being shaken up from the simple notion that Kepler liked Ash being silly. Because he’d never-- he’d never gotten to know. He’d spent his whole entire life so wrapped up in his own head and no one had ever approached him to-- to flirt, or to hold hands, or to befriend him.

Kepler was a genius whose parents knew he was a genius. His whole life he was in advanced classes, higher level courses. The people he was with were also very intelligent. No one needed to even use him for his brain. He hadn’t even had fake friends.

“I… I like you, too,” he says, quiet, like a secret, like a dawn breaking. Like something precious, he’s giving away.

There’s a slackening in Ash’s grip and Kepler’s horrified that he wants him to let go. His fright translates into a knee-jerk increase of tension, where he grabs and squeezes Ash’s hand like his life depends on it for a few seconds before his willpower gets ahold of his frantic mind and he can regulate his clasp.

“Um,” he says, trying to hide his spike of panic by peering thoughtfully into his pillowcase of candy, “maybe just for a bit. We got a lot from that first house, you know? Then we can… go to your place.”

That had been the plan, right?

Ashley Shepard

☉

The door opens and it’s a little old lady. Kepler releases another breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, relieved it wasn’t a snooty middle-class white mother or, even worse, a teenager. Ash is apparently on a first name basis with the woman (what?) who drops some candy into their receptacles and sends them on their way.

“Do you know everyone in your neighborhood?” Kepler asks, his innate curiosity worming its way out of the layers and layers of compact social anxiety detritus he has piled around him.

He finds himself then staring up at Ash like-- like a mooning, lovestruck moron.

“No,” he says, the admission coming on another exhale because, oh yeah, he has to keep reminding himself to breath. “I never… I’ve never really had friends, either. Human friends,” he adds quickly, glad Merc was out of earshot for that little slip-up.

It’s because I’m a parasite, his brain says, a litany of self-depreciation and low expectations, coupled together in a survival mechanism, I’m a little parasite and I don’t get to feel love or goodness or-- or anything like that. It’s all crashing together in waves as he scans Ash’s face, wondering if this-- if this is--

Then Ash says the rodeo line and Kepler laughs, a real, genuine laugh that ends in a tiny snort as he presses the back of his free hand against the bridge of his nose. “Oh my god,” he wheezes, as they turn, hands clasped, and continue into the night. “That was-- oh, my god.”

It was so cute and so corny and he was so done in for, wasn’t he?

Ashley Shepard

☉

Kepler maps out the ballroom and all its locales: the staircase to the upperfloor (that’s actually offlimits, it’s just the carpeted L-shape that people can go up and down); the snack table, which is actually, like, seven tables; there’s a DJ, a dance floor, some tables and chairs.

Kepler is looking for a place to hide.

He’d gotten the invite as an extension, he expected, of being one of Mars’ business connections. Kepler Brueshaber, officially, was a physicist from the Sinnoh Region doing research in Hoenn. He doesn’t know what made him come.

(Maybe the looming end of the world? Maybe the fact that he’d never been kissed? Maybe the fact that his crowning achievement was being valedictorian?)

He doesn’t know why he’s out here.

Mars’ voice startles him out of his misery.

“No,” he says, direct and scathing, looking up from beneath thick-lined eyes with a venomous glare potent enough to knock a thousand of Mars’ stupid Inkays off their… tentacles.

He cradles a whiskey sour in a plastic cup in his palms, the ice melting, the drink slowly warming.

“The decor is nice,” he adds in a quiet voice.

Martín del Mar
we stan a genderfluid monarch

☉

Isaac and Ash talk about their Pokemon and their passions for cooking. Kepler thinks of his own squad. Half of them are mindless in their devotion to him. Half of them couldn’t give two shits. He doesn’t think he knows any of them as well as he knows Mercury, but Gaia’d killed for him, so, that counted for something, right?

He made a mental note to get to know them better, if he ever got the time.

“I mean, you did save me from being sacrificed,” he pointed out, countering Isaac’s insouciant admission with one of his own. He arched an eyebrow, daring Isaac to level his riposte. Deny your capability again, pal.

He graces Ashley’s kitchen and dining space with another measured gaze, one hand on the back of a chair. “I do appreciate modern amenities,” he said, on a quiet laugh. He could feel the knots starting to loosen.

Then Ash casually says you can sleep in my tent and Kepler turns firehouse red.

“I-- maybe,” he says, just barely avoiding gasping like a fucking fish, “I’m not really on speaking terms with the great outdoors after being kidnapped and tied up outside like a dog.” Not to mention the years of horrible experiences of his childhood.

His eyes close for a bit longer than a standard blink. It’s okay, they’re you’re f-- well, they’re not going to hurt you.

When their gravitational drag pulls him towards the living room, he goes, choosing a corner of the couch as far away as physically possible while still being on the same piece of furniture.

“I was collecting weather balloon data, studying the effects of the dome on Hoenn’s atmospheric physics,” Kepler said, talking to distill his nerves. “One of the balloons came down near a Kyogre cultist ritual. I… didn’t even know they were there until they grabbed me.”

He’s perched on the arm of the couch like a cat, nervous.

Isaac Merlo Ashley Shepard

☉

The rabbits were completely oblivious to the sheer amount of crushing that was happening as they jumped and ran and played. And as Merc drew further away from him, Kepler opened his mouth to order him back-- that was his only line of defense, after all-- but Ashley’s hand was a comforting weight in his own and he swallowed his words and just. Squeezed.

And you know what? It worked. It did make him feel better.

Ash dumps the bowl of candy into Kepler’s pillowcase and Kep resists the urge to twist it around and throw it over his shoulder like fucking sucralose Santa Claus.

“I’ve never had pocky,” he admits as they turn from the scene of their crime, thinking it’s the dumbest thing he could possibly say but also thinking that it was impossible that anyone could look that good when doing something as basic as eating.

Mercury accepts the small Scorbunny without question, falling back into step next to his trainer as they strike out once more into the night. Kep catches Ash checking on him every now and then, though he still can’t really look at him; the butterflies in his stomach were working to turn his skin a particular shade of pink.

So when Ash calls on him, tells him to take a breath, that’s exactly what he does, the exhale coming out a little bit more ragged than he expected it to. He feels a little lightheaded, and remembers he has to inhale, as well.

“Sorry,” he says, apologizing for-- for himself, for himself-- “I don’t. Um. I-I’ve never been on a date, before.” And honestly? If he’d known that’s what this was, before he got here? He may never have even come. Because he was a coward. He was a coward, and he liked Ash, and he wasn’t allowed to have things he liked, and keep them.

“Yeah,” he says, finally looking up at Ash, smile growing, “yeah. I’m-- I’m having fun.”

They step up to the door so Ash can reach up and ring the doorbell. Kepler squeezes his hand back. When the door opens, he holds up the pillowcase in his other hand.

“T-trick or treat?” he asks, voice barely a squeak.

Ashley Shepard

☉

She hadn’t moved to punch him in the face or push him off the cliff, so Kepler counted that as a win in his book.

“Yeah, well, my bar is real low,” he said, his own smile faint on his moon-pale face, “so you might try lowering your standards.” His voice was a quiet echo in the stone and metal monument.

Zilla’s Charmander bathed the ground floor and the first few steps in a warm, orange light. She started up the stairs, looking back down at him and asking him if he could think of a faster way than just climbing a million stairs.

“Nothing that fits in a confined space,” was his answer, because the other answers were elevator, teleportation pad, and jetpack. None of which were useful here.

He trailed up the steps after her, willing to let her take the point on this one. The Ampharos would put up a fight, probably, and at the very least, be incredibly startled at the intrusion of strangers in its home.

As they neared the top, the oscillating light began to grow bright and brighter. Hagakure hovered in the air near Kepler, silent in the orange-tinted darkness save for the light tap of their boots on the stone.

Zilla Dumay
MISSION

☉