For all that Elesa had reservations before the passengers were born, her opinion had shifted dramatically. With every year that passed, it became that much more obvious how dearly she cared for them, which was incredible to witness.

It had never been uncommon for her to drop by after the work day was over, but now she did so not only with her friends in mind, but their two young boys. Though she never actively undermined their authority, occasionally, she toed the line in what she could get away with.

Ingo would be tempted to claim that she spoiled Rael and Kari, but was of the opinion that it would be the pot calling the kettle black.

All that to say that, when Elesa invited herself over, unannounced, it didn’t take anyone off guard. Their high stakes game of go fish screeched to a halt when the boys raced over to greet her and, as Ingo backed off to let them crowd in, he steeled himself. He knew the look on her face-- the quirk of a smile she was trying to hide-- meant that she had something for them, and was trying not to tip her hand too soon; neither of the boys was in any trouble, so there was no reason to try to sneak anything past them, but to Elesa, it was the sport that mattered. If she could smuggle it in without notice, then she won-- and it wouldn’t only be her victory, but Kari and Rael’s, too.

He cast a sideways glance back to the kitchen table, where Emmet was still sitting with his head propped up on a hand, watching them, and meaningfully rolled his eyes. Though he was too far away to hear the small puff of breath that accompanied the answering scoff, the sight of it was instantly recognizable.

Elesa wouldn’t act while they were in plain sight, so he broke off into the kitchen, headed to grab a glass for their guest. As Ingo passed behind, Emmet slapped his cards down on the table, which caused him to pause.

He hadn’t been looking that way, prior, but he did then. “…really?”

Emmet re-centered his hand over the card backs. “No peeking.”

“We’ve already established that you don’t have the cards I need.” Ingo said mildly, shaking his head as he turned back to his self-imposed task. With the cup in hand, he turned immediately toward the refrigerator, pulling a glass pitcher down from a high shelf, out of the kids’ range. By then, Elesa had set foot in the kitchen, and he passed the lemonade off without a single word of request on her part.

Out of habit, his eyes fell on his brother and lingered there, but Emmet’s response was out of the ordinary.

“No peeking.” He repeated, even though his hand was still flat on the table. Considering they'd paused, that seemed a bit excessive; what advantage could possibly be gained from looking at his face during casual conversation?

Ingo folded his arms over his chest, eyes half-mast. “Next, you’re going to insist upon a literal blindfold.”

Emmet paused, lips pulling into a thoughtful pout. “Good idea. We could get braille cards.”

“While I’m not opposed to learning braille as a means of accommodation, and methods like games would be an excellent teaching method, it does seem to me that you’re blowing this out of proportion.”

There was a hum and, with a subtle glance toward Elesa, Emmet droned, “Card games are verrrry serious business. No hard reading at the kitchen table.”

“Oh,” Elesa said, with a beat to take a sip of lemonade, “Yeah, we know who’s side I’m on, here.”

Ingo turned just enough to raise a brow at her, “Then you’re in support of everyone learning braille and playing blindfolded; the game would cease to function if two different decks were being utilized simultaneously.”

Elesa took an over-large drink and gestured frantically that she couldn’t answer.

“I see.” He said, unimpressed with the entirety of what was going on around him, “Well, being that we know who’s side you’re on, I’ll pencil you in when we begin practicing.”

While they were going back and forth, Kari looped around to take up his previous position-- opting not to duck under the table this time, as he had before-- and, sticking to his principle, Emmet pressed his cards back to the table. Taking his brother falling into place as a cue that they were resuming their game, Rael followed suit, stubbornly sitting on his knees, narrow ankles poking through the gaps in the back of the chair.

Ingo stepped closer, though he didn’t choose to settle in, just yet. He laid his fingertips on the kitchen table and glanced at Elesa. “You could sit in in my stead next round, if you’d like.”

Kari frowned, looking between them. “You don’t have to stop. We can have five players.”

“No can do, Sawsbucko,” Elesa said, lips stretching into something that was neither a true grimace nor a proper smile, “I swore a blood oath to never play cards with your dad again-- it’s lasted over a decade, and I’m not going back on it, now.”

“Why?” Rael asked, suddenly intent on her face, “Kari’s the one who cheats, not dad.”

“Nuh-uh!” Kari whined, cards splaying out as he propped himself up on the table to try to get to his brother, obstacle or no. Ingo hastily lunged forward to catch him, and between interference on both sides, the two full grown adults managed to corral him back into his chair. When it seemed like he’d give it a second try, Emmet hooked a finger beneath his shirt’s collar, holding him back like an overly enthusiastic Herdier. Kari hunched his shoulders, sulking, but didn’t follow through on it.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Ingo set his hand on the back of Kari’s neck in reassurance, prompting his twin to let go. “Rael, we’ve discussed this; the phrasing was unclear, and it was an honest mistake. It’s not fair to dredge it up in front of company.”

In response, he got a monotone, “Okay, dad.”

Apparently they would have to revisit the Uno incident to settle it once and for all-- but preferably later that evening, after Elesa’d had her fill and gone home for the night.

Opposite him, Emmet idly started gathering the stray cards up into a pile, and when offered, Kari took them and pressed them protectively to his chest, trying to salvage any semblance of mystery left. Before stepping away entirely, Ingo stooped over to retrieve the card that had fallen, face down, onto the floor, and slid it onto the table in front of him. Kari muttered a brief thanks and snatched it up to join the rest, his pink face hidden behind them as he shuffled everything back into his preferred order.

On the other side of the table, Elesa laid her open hand on top of Rael’s head, fingers spread wide, and made a gentle scratching motion through his hair; after a second, she used the position to urge him into looking up at her. “Budew, if you want to hear the details, you’ve gotta work with us, here. Be nice to your brother.”

Ingo narrowed his eyes minutely, “Oh? You agree that cheating is a conscious choice on a player’s part, and circumstantial advantages don’t constitute as such?”

“That’s different,” Elesa tried, officially stuck.

With her fingers still cradling the top of his head, Rael continued to gaze up at her. “What’s different?”

“The hard reading,” She said, and then immediately backtracked to explain, “You know how your dad can figure stuff out just by looking at you? A lot of people use another version of that in competitive hobbies-- like Pokemon battles and card games-- to get an advantage. Your dad’s right, it’s not really cheating, but not everyone can read faces, and most people can’t read his face.”

“...oookay?” Kari half-asked, curiosity causing his temper to ebb more quickly than it otherwise might. He pushed his cards so they were laying in a stack without disrupting their order, and then set them on the table. “Then why’s it matter if he’s not even cheating?”

“Why does he keep his eyes down while you’re playing go fish?” She asked in return.

“If it’s not a challenge, it’s not fun.” Rael said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. Off to his left, Emmet grinned.

Elesa hesitated, her own lips quirking into a smile as she finally withdrew her hand, “Not where I was going with that, but I can’t say I’m surprised. That’s basically it, but from the other side-- it’s no fun if you feel like you don’t stand a chance. That stuff’s normal in high-level competitions, but not so much in casual play.”

Kari continued to look at her for a moment, and then transferred his gaze to Ingo; the thoughtful frown mirrored his father’s perfectly, and there was a breath of fond laughter from Elesa’s direction. He followed the sound of it back to her.

“It’s because you don’t feel like you can win?” He echoed-- and then, guileless, followed it up with, “Is that why you guys don’t battle each other, either?”

Emmet snorted, and didn't even try to hide it, while the amusement drained from Elesa's face. With a startling abruptness, her posture went ramrod-straight, eyes wide and surprised. She collected herself within the same breath, and circled around to hover behind Kari, setting her glass down at the corner so she had both hands free. Even before she reached out to gingerly poke a pointer finger into either round cheek, he was already moving to look up at her.

“Say it to my face, Hoppipsqueak.” She said-- and while Ingo could still see the irritation lingering in the hairline creases of her eyes, none of it came out in her voice. Not only was she too well versed in keeping up appearances, but her love for the boys meant that the annoyance wouldn’t last any meaningful stretch of time. They were children. She understood, even when they caused her hackles to raise.

Kari blinked up at her-- the picture of innocence-- and poked the very tip of his tongue out apologetically, aware that he’d misstepped somewhere along the line and trying to defuse the situation.

With a soft sigh, Elesa released him and gave his nose a quick bop with the pad of a finger. “I’ll have you know we don’t play cards because someone thought it would be a great way to teach a lesson-- so really, sounds like nothing’s changed.”

“What lesson?” Rael asked, laser focused on the wrong part.

Taken off guard, Elesa breathed out a, “Hm?”

“What lesson was it? We didn’t learn anything with cards yet.”

“Yeah we did,” Kari butted in, and smugly folded his arms over his chest, “You can’t hold Uno against me, anymore.”

It was followed by a flat, sustained, “Boooooo.”

Elesa raised her voice, but only enough to make it distinct against the background noise. “Alright-- I think that’s enough from the Togepeanut gallery.”

“You’re not surprised at what you’ve found, are you? After all, you’re the one who sought admission into the circus.” Ingo said, voice dry, as he finally pulled his chair back out to perch on its edge. Opposite him, Emmet added a gleeful, “Your monkeys now!”

“Perfect,” Elesa declared, pointing at the two of them in order of age, “Simipour, stop looking. Simisage, shut it.”

“...who’s Simisear?” Kari asked, looking up once again.

“Pansear,” She took a second to think it over, “I don’t know, which one of you is a worse listener?”

In tandem, two hands shot out, pointing across the table from themselves. Kari didn’t even bother looking to check whether or not his mirror image was keeping up with him, maintaining eye contact with Elesa instead.

A snort escaped, despite her best effort at stifling it, “Yeah, that checks out.”

“Okay, if I’m a Pansear, you’re playing with us.” He declared, stare unwavering.

Elesa narrowed her eyes and laid a hand against the base of his skull, gently-- but forcibly-- tilting his head to a more natural angle. Even with those particular high beams shining away from her, however, Rael’s gaze was unhindered. Unable to weather it any longer, she turned away, bracing a hip against the counter top.

“Impressive play, boys.” Ingo said, after a moment, relaxing more fully against his chair. Trusting that the comment would find its recipient, he went on to ask, “Were you aware that Pansear could learn Trump Card?”

Without missing a beat, Emmet shot back, “It’s an egg move.”

As he laughed at their family’s collective antics, Elesa put her head in her hands, groaning theatrically.

“Swalright; I’ll sub in for your dad after this round.” She griped, ever-so-put upon.

Ingo glanced down to his hand of cards, trying to gauge how much longer it might last; they’d whittled the deck down quite a ways, so, unless something utterly absurd happened, it wouldn’t be terrible. Considering Elesa had invited herself over, to begin with, a maximum of ten minutes wasn’t an unreasonable request.

“Wait,” Rael said, as he’d made to pick up his hand of cards, “Tell the story first.”

“It’s not really that interesting,” Elesa tried, but he wouldn’t be dissuaded. “It was just one of those nights where nothing went right. I stayed out later than I normally would have, got kind of… tired, and made some bad choices. One of them was betting your dad a hundred poké and an ‘early’ night on a hand of cards.”

“You made one good decision that night. That one.” Emmet grumbled, and turned it into asking if Kari had any sevens. The boy fanned his stack of cards out and double-checked, since they’d seen a substantial break between turns.

Now that they were starting up, properly, Ingo turned away, watching Elesa instead of his fellow players.

It would be more accurate to say that, back when her story had taken place, she’d actually been incredibly tipsy-- but none of them were about to say as much to the kids. The rest of it was accurate; Elesa’s day had seen setback after setback, and she’d made the executive decision to compensate with a night out. Her frustration had been understandable, but she could have chosen to vent it in a more productive manner, which was why they’d accompanied her. Personally, Ingo didn’t have any regrets-- blood oath or no-- since the intervention had kept her safe.

Rael’s attention finally faltered, torn between his burning curiosity and how seriously he took their game; unfortunately, the gap had taken its toll, and he’d forgotten that Emmet had already asked after any threes Ingo might have had, recently. Neither of the elder twins said anything, but Kari inhaled abruptly, excited. He distractedly handed over the nine his father asked after, and then, without a shred of remorse, pounced on the opportunity his own twin handed him.

Elesa paused long enough to watch it play out in front of her, and-- from behind Kari’s back-- offered Rael an apologetic shrug. “That’s all there is to it, hon. He gave the money back the next morning, but he was right about sleeping it off. After that, I promised it’d be a cold day under Kyurem before I played cards at his table again; it’s not that anything awful happened, it’s just holding true to an ideal.”

“But that’s not what an ideal is.” He argued back-- and, at the sound of hands slapping against the tabletop, Ingo glanced over. It seemed Rael had gotten invested enough to abandon his cards for a second time, leaning dramatically against the table instead, trying to hold his godmother’s attention, “Ideals help you go forward. They don’t hold you back.”

To buy herself a moment’s time, Elesa picked her semi-forgotten glass up, but instead of taking a drink, smiled behind it. Though it was faint, it was still possible to pick it out as she whispered, “You really are your dads’ son, huh.”

After a second to follow through on her ruse, she set the glass next to Kari and turned her back on the kitchen as a whole. She came back a moment later, dragging in one of the spare chairs that normally sat just outside of the coat closet.

“Alright,” She declared, collapsing against it with the attitude of a teenager, but landing with a model’s grace. As she settled in to wait the current game out, she looked across their shared corner, directly at Ingo. “Your kid earned you a second chance, Simipour, but no peeking-- capiche?”

(Simipour kept his eyes averted. Though his attention may have wandered as conversation took precedent over their card game, he made sure he didn’t see anything that happened over the table.

There had been no stipulation where he was supposed to focus, however, if not there-- a choice Elesa came to regret as her attempt to pass Kantonian sweets under the table was promptly called out.)