Now that Casey's fully dry, he can actually tell: the heat of the day has passed, but no warmth has lingered in Vermilion. Not even the thermoregulating sea is keeping the frosty mist from creeping across the harbor- in fact, the harbor seems
colder than the rest of the city. Casey shivers, and halfway wishes Pepper was still small enough to drape around his neck. The ambient heat around his legs will do, though. Quite apart from all their other Pokémon not tolerating the cold, they'd figured it would be better not to look like trainers- not to look like a gym leader had sent them, since these people refused her before. But Pepper had given him big, sad eyes about being put away, and Casey had relented.
Casey has questions about the gym leader's plea, ones that Vera can't answer, and he's not going to settle for not knowing. But for the cold, he'll settle for tugging his friends and his Pokémon just a little closer.
Soon enough, they're confronted with a gate- hastily closed but still slightly ajar, and nervously patrolled by a skinny young man in a uniform. A posted sign says "Authorized Personnel Only When Closed", which presumably means… not them. It's probably just to keep people out of the way while they use heavy machinery they use to unload and load ships. But they're still not the people who do that, so they're not just going to be able to walk right in, especially since this guy looks like he's taking his job very seriously. Casey murmurs a suggestion of finding another way in, but a quick wander of the perimeter only turns up tall fences.
"This skinny one is easy," Casey says, slapping the horizontal wooden slats spanning a tiny alley between two buildings. "We can just climb it, c'mon."
He's already halfway up before the protests begin. "We absolutely can
not climb it!" Vera looks at the fence towering over her head. "It's like twenty feet tall, there's no way I can get up there!"
Casey leans back, twisting to look down at her. "Sure you can. Just like climbing a ladder! 'Cept your footholds are harder to find. And sometimes there's not any. Anyway, 's only fifteen at best."
"Oh, fifteen, got it. In that case…
it's still too tall!" Vera scowls at the fence, crossing her arms and refusing to try. Pepper mimics her stance, huffing out a breath.
"Yeah, come on - get back down here," Jordan pleads, evidently taking her side. "Gonna be a lot harder to investigate if one of us falls and breaks our neck."
Casey relents, kicking off the wall and dropping down with a
thud. "Fine. But this's the easiest way in we've seen, so what else you got?"
Jordan peers back around to where the skinny guard is. "Well, the gate's technically
open…" He scratches his head. "You know that episode where Frogadier uses her Smokescreen to distract the uncooperative stagehands so that Detective Greedent could get past them and investigate backstage?"
"You know I don't do fiction," Casey says, at the same time as Vera's blunt "No idea what that is."
"Oh. Hm." Jordan looks slightly embarrassed. "Okay, well, as I was saying, there's a Frogadier that uses Smokescreen to-
anyway, the point is, one of us could distract the guard so the rest of us can just sneak past."
"Oh. You coulda just
said." Jordan lets out an exasperated sigh and rolls his eyes at Casey. "Who's the most distracting out of us?"
Wordlessly, Jordan and Vera both turn their gazes toward Casey. He laughs. "Yeah, okay! Convenient, since I'm the only one who can climb over anyway. Alright, let's... y'all circle wide- Pepper, go with- and I'll march right up, right?"
March right up he does, calling to the guard after the other three split off.
Eyes on me, buddy.
"Hey there," Casey says, once he's within normal conversation distance of the lone uniformed guard. "How's it goin?"
"Um, this area is for authorized personnel only!" the guard says. Casey isn't bothered. The man's clearly nervous about something, and that means it'll be easy to keep him talking. Nerves don't let people think.
"Oh, yeah, totally get that. But what's all this
for, y'know?" Casey makes sure to gesture to the right and- yep, the shorter man's eyes track that motion, falling even further from the left side, where Jordan and Vera are approaching. He takes a few steps back and to the right while gazing up at the warehouse walls, and the guard instinctively follows the conversation.
Good. "I'm new in Vermilion; was just takin' a walk and ended up over here, then I couldn't walk any further! So what's this? And does it usually get this cold?"
The last question is something he's been
personally mulling over, rather than an attempt at light but uninteresting conversation. But apparently the young man has much to say about it.
"Um, no, not at all, and it's- I'm worried!" Casey tilts his head at the vehemence. "Well, this is part of the shipyard and docks, and I went out there earlier, before everyone else got called to check out the explosion- and even the sea is freezing! Moving salt water, freezing? In
May? No, this is wrong. And terrible, it really is."
"Terrible for what? The ships?" Casey's hand comes up to stroke his chin in a show of thoughtfulness. The man's eyes follow.
Distract with motion, okay. His friends are sidling up to the wall left of the gate, but he doesn't allow his eyes to linger on them. He stretches, exaggerated motions, and clasps his hands behind his head despite the air rapidly cooling the patch of skin where his shirt rides up.
"What?" The man seems momentarily distracted, for some reason. "I mean- um- no, the ships are fine. The ice is pretty thin, they can just plow right into it. Um."
The guy's spacing out again, a light dusting of red on his cheeks. Casey's sure his look the same- the cold is starting to get to him. He drops his arms and sticks his hands back in his pockets, shuffling his feet a bit. Casey only allows the silence for a beat- he can't risk the man glancing in the wrong direction, even if Pepper's tail is currently rounding a corner on the other side of the gate.
They're in. "So, uh, what's the ice terrible for, if it ain't the ships?"
"Oh- yes. The marine life, of course. All the Pokémon that live in and around the harbor, they're all going to be affected by this sudden change in temperature. Most of them can live through the cold, of course, but a lot of them either migrate or go into a stasis mode overwinter, and this might trigger those instincts and completely screw up their patterns-
is this funny to you?!"
"Uh." Casey cuts off his own laughter. "No, no, sorry- I was just, y'know. Struck. Didn't think a gate guard would sound like a marine biologist."
"Oh. Well." The man quickly loses his fight and his shoulders slump. "I'm studying to be, actually. This is just a temporary thing, for some pocket money. I wanted to be by the sea." A gentle smile spreads across his lips, but his eyes have a faraway look to them. "It's majestic, don't you think? And breathtaking, and unknowable, even with the best technology we have at the moment- I
know I'm meant to be out there, figuring it all out."
Huh. He's met people like this, of course. People who seem to know their
destiny, people who are so drawn to something they can't bear to stay away. It's amazing, their unwavering and endless passion for one specific thing.
Casey himself has never felt that.
"Ah- sorry, that's a bit much, isn't it?" The man laughs ruefully.
"No, no! I love that." Casey is absolutely sincere about that. "It's- it's gorgeous, that kind of passion. I'm glad you have it!"
"Gorgeous?" the man repeats, and his face flashes red, like Jordan's does when he tries to talk to girls.
Oh, right, Jordan's waiting now- I'm s'posed to be gettin' out of this conversation.
"Nobody's ever called me… Um! I- I like your beard a lot, by the way!"
"Huh? Oh, thanks!" Casey preens, just a little bit. "I had a moustache, but I didn't like that very much. Was kind of worried that it looked unbalanced without it, though."
"Well…" the man gathers his courage and stands up as tall as he can. Still shorter than Casey. "Well, I'd- I'd like to see that someday! Then I can tell which is better. So- uh- here!" He fumbles his phone out of his pocket. "Take my number. Call me sometime, okay? Oh- oh my god, I never even introduced myself- I'm Tristan. Um. What's your name?"
"Nice to meet ya, Tristan, I'm Casey!" They take a quiet moment to enter information, confirming numbers and posing cheerfully (Casey) and nervously (Tristan) for contact photos. Casey almost slips his phone away, but-
good excuse to split, use it. An exaggerated double-take does the trick. "Oh shit, is that really the time? Sorry, I gotta run- was supposed to meet some friends for lunch! Thanks for the conversation! See ya 'round!"
Tristan waves goodbye as Casey jogs away, back to his chosen entry point around the corner, breath puffing in clouds around his face. He peeks through the gaps in the boards and sure enough, his friends are peering back.
"The hell took you so long?" Jordan asked. "We were starting to get worried. Did he seem… I don't know, suspicious or anything?"
"Oh, nah, Tristan's cool." Casey motions for them to step back as he climbs, still talking. "He's not much older'n us, just doin' the gate thing for some extra cash. Wants to be a marine biologist, this's closest he could get at the moment. Kinda sucks. Hey, move back- thanks." Casey drops to the ground easily. "He gave me his number f'r some reason. Said he likes my beard? Which is nice, nobody
else seems to appreciate it." He sniffs with an exaggerated air of being put out.
Jordan stares at him as he speaks, dumbfounded. "You got his whole life story in- nevermind, we can probably use that skill in a minute here to get info outta people." He steps back and stands next to Vera, evaluating Casey's face. "I don't know. What do
you think about the beard?"
Vera shrugs, not giving Casey's face a second glance. "I've seen better, but it's his first beard."
Casey scrubs his chin with both hands. "See you grow a better one," he huffs.
Vera raises an eyebrow at that. "I can't. Do you see any hair here?" She smirks as she gestures to her face.
"Nah, that's right."
Stop poking the Beartic! admonishes one part of his brain, but on the other hand: Vera's fun to rile, and he mentally throws his hands in the air as the rollercoaster dives down the track. "White hair don't even show up, 's worse than blonde. Surprised you don't look bald at the scalp."
"Bald!?" Vera looks shocked, then angry, grasping at her hair. "At least I can actually grow mine out, instead of just letting it sit in a messy pile on top! It doesn't look cool! It just looks untidy!"
"C'mon now, Jordan's doesn't look bad at all!" Casey teases gleefully.
"Wait, no, I wasn't talking about… I mean, I wouldn't say… I mean!" She looks away from them both, but Casey catches her face going red as Jordan instinctively reaches up to smooth his hair down along the grain.
"Hey, at least I actually take care of my hair," Jordan protests. "Kind of. Anyway, the
investigation, guys?"
"Right!" Casey claps his hands together, but even just his usual enthusiasm is too much for cold fingers and he ends up rubbing them together for warmth. And to stop the stinging. "Oh-kay, now, don't try to be sneaky. Lookin' sneaky gets you in trouble, 'cause then people think you don't belong. If we act like we belong, nobody's gonna ask questions."
"Right, makes sense." Jordan pauses. "How- how do you know this? Do we want to know?"
"I dunno, do you?" Casey's list of places he's confidently wandered into is long, and now probably isn't the time to go into detail. "I've been places, y'know? It usually works out."
"He has a point." Vera concedes, leaning in closer to Pepper for warmth. "If people see someone walking with purpose, they ignore them. If they hesitate, people take notice. They ask questions. They think 'what's she doing here, is she lost? Can I help her?' And then they make a scene when… well, you get the idea."
Casey wonders how many times Vera has snuck into places she doesn't belong, but noise and movement in the distance catches his attention before he can ask.
"There's people that way. I think? Hard to tell in this weird snow-fog."
There are, in fact, people, but not as many as he thought at first- Machamp may be humanoid, but they don't count as "people to talk to". So the few assisting in moving giant crates are ignored as Casey makes a beeline to a figure that looks as if they are directing the scene.
"'Scuse me," he calls. The broad-shouldered woman looks up from her clipboard, brow furrowed.
"What,
more demands?" she snaps, then does a double-take. "Oh.
Teenagers. How'd you get in here? Are you lost? If you're not, you should
get lost. Ahaha. Seriously, though, we don't have time for any nonsense. Scram."
Casey doesn't let a frown slip onto his face, not yet. But being stonewalled right off the bat isn't ideal. "It's cool, we just had a few questions, won't take hardly any time, really-"
"Gate's that way." She jams a thumb over her shoulder, eyes glued to her clipboard. "I don't have time for you."
"She doesn't know anything, I told you she didn't look important." Vera sounds slightly more arrogant than usual. Casey blinks.
Where's she going with this? "We need to find someone in charge, not their
assistant."
"
Assistant?! Little girl, I'm the on-duty supervisor for this section, so if you're not getting something from me, you won't be getting it at all!"
"Well thank you for agreeing to help us, then!" It probably would sound more genuine if Vera didn't raise her voice to match the supervisor's. Casey reaches to the side and links his pinkie with hers.
Chill out, he wants to say,
bein' antagonistic gets you nowhere.
"I said I didn't have time for you, do you not listen?
Go." She turns abruptly and stalks over to a pair of Machamp to give them orders. Vera follows, slipping her hand free of Casey's, and the other three have no choice but to hurry after her.
"Hey! Don't just walk away from me!" Vera marches right up to the supervisor, closer than a casual conversation would allow. "If you're the only one who'll give me answers, then I
demand answers!"
"What part of 'leave' didn't you get? Get out of here, kid."
"Not until you talk to me." Vera crosses her arms defiantly, also preventing Casey from taking her hand again. He tsks.
"Ugh." The woman runs a gloved hand down her face. "Fine, since you won't leave- what do you want?"
Vera grins triumphantly, but it's short lived as realization seems to dawn on her. "Um… Casey, go ahead and ask your questions."
Wait, hey, this is YOUR thing, I thought YOU were gonna do the talking! "Uh, well, you see, we… we talked it over, and, uh, Jordan- Jordan remembers what we were gonna ask, right?" Casey gives up and nudges Jordan. "Right?"
Jordan looks at the woman like a deer in headlights, but manages to somewhat compose himself and contribute. "Um, uh?" Well, barely. "Y-yeah, so we were wondering if… you know, you noticed anything weird… any weird stuff, lately, that is."
The supervisor raises an eyebrow, but before she makes a real attempt at answering a horn beeps twice and a truck pulls up next to her, tired-looking driver leaning casually out the window.
"These need a home, too. More on the way."
The supervisor throws up her hands, clipboard narrowly missing both Vera and the man in the truck. Vera ducks, looking between the two adults as the woman starts yelling. "
How many more?! This is insane, this is too much, I'm supposed to be
off all week and they drag me in for- for what? Bullshit!"
"Tell me about it," the truck man says, gently pushing her clipboard down. "Actually, don't, I don't need to hear my own thoughts coming outta your mouth. Email the Foundation, I'm sure they'll care
so much about how we all have to put in all this extra work in this freakish cold because of their "
change of plans", or whatever they're calling it."
"I'll fuckin' do it, watch me," the woman grumbles, gesturing to the Machamp, who begin unloading the truck.
"Sure, sure," the man sighs, leaning back in his seat and tugging his beanie over his eyes. "Wake me up when they're done."
"You hear that?" Casey whispers. "Sounds like weird stuff t'me." Jordan nods subtly, brows furrowed.
Vera leans in closer to the supervisor, trying to get a better look at the clipboard, but has to quickly step back as the woman turns, almost getting smacked again. "What was that all about? Trouble with the Foundation?"
"Oh, you have
no idea, they're out here pushing their way up the queue and having us clear space and we're
still trying to compensate, I don't know-" the supervisor hesitates, eyes flashing across their group, and snaps her mouth shut. "I don't know why I'm telling company business to three kids and a lizard."
Pepper looks offended, though it's more likely because of the scathing tone than being called a lizard. "Oh, we don't mind; it's interesting to know what people's jobs are really like!" Casey tries, but the supervisor has made up her mind once more.
"
Other people mind. Now, get out of the way. More trucks are coming in."
Their group gets shoo'd away, then they scramble to get
out of the way as the foretold trucks begin arriving, each laden with miscellaneous cargo. Casey facilitates by catching Vera's elbow and steering her away from what very well could be a potential fight. It's easy to angle their escape back toward the gate but slip aside once the supervisor is distracted and huddle together behind a stack of pallets, with Pepper in the middle as their portable space heater.
"Well, that's…
something, right?" Jordan asks, hands hovering over the Charmeleon's tail. "Do we report back with what we have?"
"And say what, that some 'Foundation' is making a lot of deliveries?" Vera grumps, her expression softening as she scratches under Pepper's chin. "We need more than just half of a name, we need evidence."
"We don't even know what we're lookin' for evidence
of. What d'you want me to do, talk to everyone in the place an' hope they happen to mention something?" It's not a bad idea, but even Casey is getting pretty cold out here. And that's getting on his nerves, along with the fact that Vera came in here with no apparent plan whatsoever.
"Maybe people closer to our age will be easier to talk to. Like, uh, Tristan, right?" Jordan offers.
"Yeah, maybe a supervisor was a bad choice," Casey muses. "Too invested in their job, right? Let's find some friendly people."
It's a good bet to head to where the trucks are coming from- they find themselves in a mess of boxes and pallets and hectic activity, bundled-up workers doing their best not to slip as they load up truck beds and move boxes in some kind of organized chaos. There are a few people scribbling on clipboards here and there, but none that seem to be as "in charge" as the supervisor from the previous area.
"Okay, still actin' casual," Casey says. "But- gotta have a plan. Vera, you're no good at talkin' to people. See if you can get a clipboard and look busy, just listen. Pepper, go with Vera, you can't lift stuff so people will ask questions if you're with me 'cause Jordan, you 'n' me are doin'
work. Show off your big strong muscles for the ladies out here."
"I'm
working on 'em," Jordan huffs, pinching his right bicep a little. "But yeah, lead the way."
Vera frowns at Casey's words, but shrugs after a moment's thought. "Fine. I'll see what I can find. Come on, Pepper."
The two pairs split from each other as they stride into the work zone, Vera vanishing into an office while Casey and Jordan integrate themselves into a group of people loading boxes into a truck.
"Hey, backup has arrived!" Casey announces cheerfully. Relief shows plain on the three faces, and one of them slaps him on the shoulder as they hurry off to "finally" take a break, leaving Casey and Jordan with a young man and woman who give them a quick rundown of the task at hand. It's just moving stuff, as expected, walking back and forth from the pallets and passing boxes up to their new coworkers in the truck bed.
"Can't believe the Foundation would do this t' us, y'know?" Casey shakes his head as he slides a box onto the tailgate. The woman tilts her head, but the man groans loudly.
"Oh don't get me
started," he complains. "Half of us are in on our day off, we're not working with anyone we know, the whole system's been thrown outta wack, just because they needed a
whole warehouse at like, two in the morning!"
"A whole warehouse? These things are
huge, what the heck do they need that much space for?" Legitimate curiosity colors his question, which is helpful- being genuine gets you places, after all.
"Beats me," the woman answers, as Casey heads back for his next box, nodding to Jordan along the way. Jordan barely acknowledges him as he focuses on carrying the one he'd picked up. "Worst part is that we were nearly done moving stuff, almost had it all sorted, and then-
boom!"
"Boom?" Jordan wheezes out as he holds out the box.
Shoulda come lifting with me more, huh? Casey thinks at him, smugly. "Careful, it's kinda heavy-"
"Yeah, that's about what we heard over here," the man laughs shortly.
"It's not
funny, it means we have to find new places for more shit" the woman says, elbowing him out of the way so she can take Jordan's box with ease, ignoring his warning. "It was an explosion, or something, by one of the other warehouses."
"Wh- any idea what's doing that?" Jordan asks as the woman points him towards another pallet. Casey suddenly recalls glossing over Tristan's mention of an explosion. Maybe he should've pursued that further...
The man scoffs, and Casey has to nudge the box further into the truck to get his attention. "As if we're told anything! Just "stay here, do your work, don't tell anyone which warehouse the Foundation is using". As if,
one, it's not obvious, but
two, we'd go around telling all our friends about the exact details of every damn shipment. What do they think we do in our spare time?"
"Obviously work, work, and more work," the woman snorts. Casey and Jordan laugh along with the man. "Even if we weren't getting a little bonus for this, I still wouldn't be going around talking like that."
"Oh, you're getting a
bonus? They didn't tell us anything about that when we came in here," Casey complains. Hopefully his acting isn't too over the top, but it's not like he can ask Jordan, even as they brush shoulders passing each other by. Casey's more used to melodrama, not acting believably, and Jordan
knows what that looks like from him. But they're within earshot of their "coworkers", so all he does is gently tilt his head and look for any subtle clue on Jordan's face, which is puffy, red and betrays nothing but mild pain and discomfort until he sets down his box. Casey wasn't even sure if he heard him, but he slips into character as he composes himself.
"Well, it must be that warehouse, huh?" Jordan dusts off his hands and sighs. "That's really too bad, lord knows we need a bonus."
"Oh, dude, don't we all. Here, tell the super that you know which warehouse it is- B-17, down thataway-" The woman points past the work zone, closer to the sea itself. "Be slick about it and get that cash, right?"
Casey grins widely- not for the promise of cash, obviously, but for the best information he could have hoped for. "Thanks!"
Soon enough, and with some less vitally important chatter, fifteen minutes have gone by and the other worker makes their way back from break, looking far less sour than they had and carrying canned drinks for the four still working. Casey and Jordan accept theirs with a "cheers!" and head off- allegedly, to give another team a break, but really to collect Vera and Pepper.
Casey turns the can over in his hand. The label says "Sparkling Liechi" in a big, cheerful font and he makes a face. "What'd you get?"
Jordan grimaces, rolling his left shoulder back. "A pulled muscle, maybe. What'd you say this was, a quadricep? Or is that the one in your leg-"
"Prob'ly your tricep, I can show you stretches later-" Casey shakes his head. "You really shoulda done workouts with me, I
told you. Didn't I? But I was
talking about your drink, obviously. I don't want this carbonation."
"Oh, um." Jordan looks down and spins the can around to show him the label. "Morning Orange. It's zesty. Still carbonated, though. I'll have that if you don't want it."
"You shouldn't have
two," Casey sniffs. "That's crazy sugar! Vera can have it."
Jordan shrugs, taking a sip from his can. "Fine. Speaking of, where is she?" He craned his neck, scanning the area.
Casey hums a note, scanning near where he'd last seen her. If he hadn't remembered what Vera's outerwear looked like, he probably would have just skimmed right over her- she actually blends in pretty well, having added a white hard hat to her ensemble and hiding her face under her scarf.
Despite her supposed goal of listening in, she's actually nowhere near any other workers. Instead, she's half hidden by some shipping containers, intensely focused on drawing on her stolen clipboard. A flickering light emanates from the ajar container next to her, a subtle clue to Pepper's position.
As Casey approaches, Vera nods at her clipboard, tearing off the top sheet and folding it up. "Got ya somethin'," he says in her ear.
"Oh, sh-!" Vera yelps in surprise, her hands going into her pockets as she pushes herself away from the wall.
"Dammit, Casey!" She pulls her scarf away from her face, her mouth set in an angry line as she catches her breath. "Don't sneak up on me like that, what's wrong with you? You gave me a heart attack!"
"Sorry, sorry," Casey laughs, scratching Pepper's neck when the Charmeleon pops his head out of the crate. It's nice to be close to his little heat source again. "Have a soda, we're goin' for a walk. There's a warehouse we gotta see."
"You guys found something?" Vera follows behind, opening her soda and cursing as it fizzes over, the spilled beverage freezing within moments of hitting the ground. "...this is terrible."
"Yeah, a huge something." Jordan replies, narrowly moving his foot out of the way of the spillage. "The Foundation's got a whole warehouse over here, and we know which one it is." He rubs his hands together, probably because of the cold, but paired with his enthusiasm for the news he was relaying, he also looks a little like a cartoon villain. "B-17... Come on, this way."
The B block of warehouses, unlike the D block where they had been working, is weirdly empty. It's almost concerning, the lack of activity, with the unnerving silence only broken by the gentle crash and cracking of the frozen sea. The cold fog is still but for their puffing breath, and the ice under their feet is slick enough to slow their pace to a shuffle. Or a slide, when Casey feels like playing. He almost wishes he had his skates- or, really, has skates that fit him. Voicing this thought only gets him an annoyed
'shush' from the determined Jordan and a disinterested "Hmph" from Vera. He sighs and focuses on checking numbers again. They're just past B-15, following the icy road as it curves around B-16.
And they quickly retrace their steps when they get a good look ahead.
"I'm not even
tryin' to talk to those guys," Casey mutters, as they peek around the corner once more.
B-17 is guarded.
A few individuals circle the warehouse as they watch, but at least five others stand at attention at the barricaded entry to the building. Not that the barricades seem necessary, considering the thick coating of ice holding the main doors in place. The whole building is similarly covered, and Casey wonders why. Even the frozen haze in the air is thicker here, which is super weird. It makes it hard to see the figures clearly, even as close as they are.
"Sh-should we get closer and get a better look?" Jordan asks, but there was a shaky uncertainty in his voice.
"I think we've seen enough." Vera shivers, unable to keep her teeth from chattering. "Is it just me, or is it colder suddenly?"
Casey only now realizes he can't feel his ears, and reaches up to check that they're still attached. "Thought it was just 'cause we stopped moving…"
But it's not. Even Pepper whines, and when Casey looks he is shuffling in place, feet no longer thawing through the thick ice and tail flame starting to dim. "Ooh,
buddy," Casey cooes, hefting the Charmeleon into his arms. Sharing that heat makes the cold bearable again.
Not that Jordan and Vera have that luxury.
Jordan glances between Casey holding his Pokémon, and the shivering girl. "Y'know," He starts, inching closer. "Human body heat's no Charmeleon, but it's better than nothing…"
Vera shoots him a bemused look, but seems to reconsider as a stray breeze makes her shiver even more. "Yeah, fine. You have a point. Come here." She nestles up close to Jordan, letting him put his arms around her. He looks pleasantly surprised, but mostly surprised, that that worked.
Casey and Pepper watch this with the same amount of surprise, but Casey's is more fixated on the fact that
Vera of all people not only agreed to affectionate physical contact, but very nearly
instigated it. But he lets a grin slip onto his face.
This is good, he thinks.
This is nice.
However, it is also freezing, and he has a duty to uphold: a duty to be Jordan's personal menace.
"So, uh," he coughs, letting his grin turn into more of a leer. "Hate to break up the snuggle squad, but we don't actually have to hang out at the docks anymore."
Jordan glares at Casey as Vera quickly, but not roughly, pushes away from him. "Right! Nothing more to see here! Let's get out of here before we freeze!"
Casey stifles his giggles and ushers them ahead, a complicated maneuver when one has an armful of Charmeleon. It's quick enough work to leave through the main gate, Casey ducking his head so as not to be recognized by Tristan.
They're all looking forward to thawing out in the damp heat of Vermilion Gym.