“So what’s it going to be? Traditional ‘big brother in white’ or are the passengers taking after their dads?” Elesa asked as they bid a slow circuit through Join Avenue. It was the first time their days off had coincided in several weeks and, due to the nature of the season, was presumably going to be the last before the new year began.

As likely as it seemed that the twins would be chased home by concerned employees this time around, there was always a rush of gym challengers topping off the year as trainers young and old tried their best to live up to their previous resolutions. While she’d get a moment to breathe somewhere between holiday festivities and the actual new year celebrations, Elesa would be relatively swamped in the meantime, so she had to make the most of their outing today.

“Nope. Neither. They’re getting red and blue.” Emmet said, leaving it up to Ingo whether or not to elaborate further and on what-- though, to be fair, neither color denoted birth order since it was already bucking tradition.

“It seems unwise to use the same colors two generations in a row.” His brother explained, “Not only has it been proven that infants thrive on bolder colors, but we wouldn’t want to cause any confusion. If one of them happened to match either of us, it might make them believe there was an underlying preference, or cause them to develop one.”

It would certainly be understandable if the passengers did establish a preference, however. As much as the two of them cared for and respected Drayden, as much as he’d stepped in as their father in all but title, their relationships with him were very distinct from the ones they had with their mother. It only stood to reason that their own sons might gravitate toward their biological parent.

Ingo had argued that it wasn’t an appropriate comparison at all-- that Drayden had only become a large part of their lives when they were five years old, and the passengers wouldn’t have that gap. While their relationships with their uncle were unique from their remaining parent, it seemed, in their case, a matter of having the time to set a particular dynamic.

If Drayden’s wasn’t the role Emmet was taking up, though, that put him in the place of their father, which was… uncomfortable. Not for the romantic implications-- that was a ridiculous thought to begin with, and he hadn’t spared it a second-- but because the idea that he might one day find cause to walk out was a harrowing one.

That was not him. Things changed around him. He did not. He was Emmet and he’d already decided he was seeing this through.

In the here and now, Elesa reached up, tapping at and fluffing up either side of her earmuffs, making those very colors stand out. She seemed excited.

“I like it Swalot.” She declared, enthusiasm stilling the smallest amount as she stopped to grant them, “And… yeah, that’s a pretty legit concern. Both, I mean, but you really wouldn’t want to give anyone a complex.”

Emmet snorted but, at the look his twin shot him, remained silent on the matter; there wasn’t much to say, anyway, that they hadn’t already covered. Better to focus on the real world.

Join Avenue had been done up in splendid fashion, individual shops decorated as their owners deemed appropriate, but with twinkling lights sweeping down into inverted arches framing the main thoroughfare. The pre-programmed patterns playing out over the ceiling had been updated to match: a dark backdrop with a ripping aurora and bright, bright stars-- brighter than could naturally be seen against Nimbasa’s light pollution. With a dark cloth backdrop covering the walls and a breeze that couldn’t help but blow from one end of the marketplace to the other, it gave it the impression of being outside while still offering some amount of shelter from the weather.

Decorations on the main floor were kept to a minimum for safety reasons, leaving the lights as the cohesive piece tying together a tapestry of unique styles as one storefront’s sensibilities bled into the next, the imagery ranging from elegant, to cute to bold, but all sharing an underlying wintery theme.

They’d discussed walking through the amusement park after this, but the jury was still out on how feasible that might be. It seemed unwise to take any unnecessary risks after the Linking Pass, even if the iron deficiency had long since been addressed. Join Avenue was safer-- it was easier to find a place to sit if need be and, while lively, wasn’t nearly as active as a bustling fairground. Personally, Emmet somewhat doubted Ingo would want to brave the cold after this, so he was erring on the side of skipping it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Elesa’s entire face light up and with a brief “Be right Baxcalibur.” she darted off into the crowd, dead set on her goal. The both of them silently watched her vanish into the depths of the mall and, with a short look to one another, drifted off to the side where they wouldn’t be in the way.

Conversation was hardly mandatory, but when several minutes passed without any commentary, Emmet decided to give his brother a poke and see what was going on over there.

Ingo’s attention snapped up from where he’d been watching the lights’ reflection warp in the impractically-shiny tiles, eyes bright and cheeks flushed. “Something the matter?”

“You’re either stalling or your brain is about to overheat. I do not know which one.”

His twin shook his head theatrically and, ever-measured, shoved him with a shoulder. “I’ll have you know I was considering something quite important.”

“Oh?” Emmet asked, grinning, “New and exciting ways to abuse Earthquake?”

Ingo tilted his head, hand raised in a ‘what can you do’ type of gesture, “I was going to tell you what your sons’ names might be, but if that’s what you prefer...”

“Sorryyyy,” He drawled, watching for the flicker of amusement he knew would come of stretching out his flat method of speech, hoping it might be enough to sway his brother into sharing.

The ever-so-stern look that had been fixed on him broke and Ingo leaned nearer to divulge the passing thought.

Considering it, Emmet tilted his head. “Cute. Real names are not a bad idea. It occurs to me that naming a baby is different than naming yourself. So maybe no jargon.”

His brother continued to watch him with an amazement that most would struggle to see.

“Sometimes I wonder how you chart your train of thought.” Ingo said, intonation just one stop short of verbally stating ‘and I love you for it’. Instead, what he actually went on to add was, “Any name runs the risk of not matching them once they’re older; so long as we choose something reasonable in the interim, they can decide for themselves whether or not they’ll keep the ones we pick.”

“True.” Emmet conceded, and moved a single pace forward, tossing an arm into the air to catch Elesa’s attention-- and if the bag in her hand happened to have a telltale blue-and-yellow ear sticking out, they could perhaps play dumb.

(As Emmet had predicted, they wound up skipping the amusement park to head home. He had thought part of the motivation was to warm up, but--

“It’s colder than Cubchoo snot in here.” Elesa remarked, pulling her jacket back around herself, “What’s that about?”

There was no way that was true. Emmet ran warm and was an imperfect judge of this kind of thing, but if there was a problem, he would have heard Ingo complain about it by now. He loved his brother, but had to be honest: Ingo was kind of a Wimpod about the cold. If he hadn’t taken issue with the ambient temperature, it was fine.

“I don’t see a problem.”

“It’s a nice change of pace from Join Avenue, I think. It was… rather stifling there.”

...no, now that wasn’t correct.

Elesa’s brows jumped, agreeing with the unspoken sentiment.

“Join Avenue is a glorified breezeway. It’s warmer than usual because of the number of people packed in, but-- oh.” She shook her head and walked past, giving Ingo’s shoulder a squeeze as she went, “It’s the exact same problem, huh? Poor dad here’s at occupant capacity.”)