Kepler pulled down the sleeves of his sweater, worn to threads by this same, repeated action, done over and over again. There were thumbprint indents in the cuffs.

It wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t warm, either-- sort of a weird liminal space that Hoenn was surprisingly good at achieving.

He had an energy drink in one hand and a PokePad in the other, taking a shortcut through the graves to the tree he and Martín del Mar had sat at and shot the shit about theories and fuck-all-knows-what a few months ago. Mercury, who had matured (slightly) since their last meeting, stayed close to his trainer. He’d taken to doing so ever since Kep had gotten kidnapped.

This time, it was Phobos and Deimos who were running amok amongst the headstones, aiming to terrorize the local wildlife.

Martín del Mar
ghost/psychic

☉

Kepler’s situation was almost directly inverse to Ashley’s-- not that he would realize it at the time, of course. He’d spent so long at the mercy of the world around him, finding solace and protection in Rocket. He was a hydrophobic tail safely ensconced between the hydrophilic heads and safe from the chaos of the water-based world around them.

Isaac, being the unfortunate good soul that he is, volunteers to help.

“I promise you want me nowhere near anything you want to maintain as edible,” Kepler said. He gestured vaguely to his cart that Merc was piling with pre-made meals, heavily preserved snacks, and energy drinks in every variety of the rainbow.

Kepler’s diet, on full display.

Ashley mentions he has wi-fi and then grabs his face, the skin flushing. Kepler tilts his head, latching onto this, looking closely. It’s a puzzle, right, and his brain likes these.

Maybe he forgot to pay his internet bill?

“Yeah,” he says, still watching the faint redness across Ashley’s cheeks, his nose. “Cool with me.” He realizes he’s staring and then it’s his turn to blush and look away, suddenly appearing very interested in the checkout lane trinkets. “Small is good. I’m small, too, so. It works.”

Which is-- well. He was taller than Isaac, actually, but, like, just barely, and his computer hunch wasn’t doing him any favors.

Ashley Shepard Isaac Merlo

☉

He had to admit that Walsh’s plans seemed scattered and sporadic, but he wasn’t a tactician by any means. Global catastrophe be damned, Kepler wanted to go to space. He pointed a measuring look at Naomi Sato, wondering how many spots there would be and if he would need to, like, break her kneecaps in order to assure him a spot. Not that he would but he would.

People go back and forth arguing for and against places for a while. Kepler is focused on the idea of going to the meteor. What would they find? What would find them? He gets goosebumps from the excitement.

Then bryan delarosa opens his big meathead mouth, talking about why his little backwater ‘ton is the ideal place to invade, and makes some equally as meathead claims as to Kanto Superiority or whatever the fuck he’s on about. Eris Halla chimes in, then, and it makes Kepler snicker.

Someone pipes up and asks Eris what side she’s on and--

Kepler laughed. He straight up laughed, threw his head back and cackled, because, fuck, what the fuck? What were they even-- talking about here? It was a merciless, joyless sound, full of a mockery and intent that he didn’t actually think he was capable of cultivating.

Martín del Mar says. do better. Was that-- was that a fucking joke?

And maybe-- maybe-- maybe it was the result of the years spent in the grip of thick-muscled no brained tyrants who looked a lot like Bryan, maybe, as your eyes get fuzzy and your concussion kicks in from where they slammed you against the wall, but Kepler thought Eris was right.

“People are allowed to be bothered by war crimes, dude,” he snorts, leveling his scornful laughter at mint frost. “They don’t say ‘history is written by the victors’ without reason.” God, imagine being so out of touch that you can look at a victimized child and ask them what side they’re on. Frankly, it wouldn’t be so apparent except for all the strides Rocket had been taking to become different from Kanto.

He pressed two fingers to the bridge of his nose, trying to collect himself.

“Far be it from me to comment on the ethics of the situation because that is very distant from my realm of expertise, but we’re not trying to be those kind of victors.” His inner parasite (survive at all costs, survive at the expense of the host) kicked in. “I think we should worry about surviving first and then maybe plans of regional domination later. Just a thought.”

Waving a hand, he directs his Pokemon to move to the Littleroot grunt, because he is, despite himself, intrigued by this newfound energy source. He's not entirely convinced it won't all go tits up in their face, but, when doesn't anything?

TL ; DR
>> kepler thinks you're all fucking delusional and eris just gave voice to the truth
>> votes for littleroot
>> wearing

Kepler was used to people turning off their brains when he started talking. Actually, he was used to most everyone having a brain that was permanently turned off. Such was the price of genius.

Of course, he was most used to being brained against lockers or hunted down in the dark of night on his way home from school, dumped in trash cans or splitting his lip against white porcelain toilet seats.

Also he’d gotten kidnapped that one time (totally unrelated).

So Zilla calling him dork alarmed him and steeled him in equal measure: he had a thick skn and was used to much worse, but the word set off psychological triggers in his brain that he needed to hurry up and turtle because much worse was coming.

At the base of the lighthouse, he did what he was told and shut his mouth, figuring they were on an op, after all, and he probably shouldn’t let his obsession with the lighthouse lens distract from that. He tried the doorknob, but it was locked; he shoved his shoulder into it with a grunt, to no avail except bruising his arm.

“Stupid--,” he struck out his right hand, palm flat, fingers splayed, and Hagakure’s Pokeball spat a beam of light that flowed down his forearm and then expanded into the Honedge. Instead of following the expected course of action and bashing her against the door, he pointed the blade down towards the earth.

A shadow, almost like liquid, dropped off the point of the sword, slipped under the door, and a few moments later it unlocked with a click, swinging inward as Hagakure’s shadow returned to her.

“How’s that for a dork?” Kepler couldn’t help asking, releasing Hagakure to hover nearby as he pushed into the dark lighthouse. “The Ampharos should be on the top floor.”

Zilla Dumay
MISSION
this was not on my tracker GOMENASORRY
hagakure used shadow sneak

☉

gifting

Isaac Merlo

☉

SQUIRTLE ♂︎ RAIN DISH WATER PULSE, WATER GUN, AQUA TAIL, BUBBLE BEAM LIFE DEW

Kepler loses all modicum of control or interest in whatever the fuck is going on as soon as Walsh suggests they’re sending people up to the meteor.

“Holy shit,” he says, eyes going wide. He barely stops himself from making grabby hands towards the Rocket boss, because, holy fuck? Holy fuck. And a very large part of him is screaming THIS IS A HORRIBLE IDEA YOU’RE GOING TO DIE but that part of him is swallowed up by his innate curiosity.

Kepler is a scientist, first and foremost. He will always be more concerned with the could over the should.

“Scratch the Primal Point, I want to go to the meteor,” he says, in a voice that is equal parts dreamy and drooly. He looks at Lulu Flint and turns on his biggest, buggiest, pleadingest eyes, seconds away from saying please, mommy (in a sarcastic way, of course, obviously, it would be so funny, haha) but he realizes there needs to be just the slightest hint of professionalism in his life, and right now might be the best time to start.

He releases his Raboot, Mercury, and points him to the Petalburg grunt because that’s where everyone else is going and part of what makes Kep so smart is his tactical mind takes hints from people like Cillian Quinn who knows what the fuck they’re doing.

TL ; DR
>> kepler wants to go to the moon, alice to the meteor, lulu
>> votes for petalburg
>> wearing