[That's good enough for him. He could stand some whiskey because then he can actually trick himself into thinking his fingers aren't as chilly as they are and that he doesn't have unfriendly aching in his ankles because of the fucking weather. Thanks, rain.]

[He follows along as well, looking at the big Drapion. He's been really halfassing being a breeder; while Connor's done what he can't to excel as a Pokemon trainer, Hank is a real underachiever that's just been vaguely prepping for maybe one day having eggs. But he's reminded that he does have that female Tentacool.]

Hey uh... I think your Drapion is in the same egg group as my Tentacool? Hold on, I need to look it up and double check.

[He pulls up his pokegear in wet fingers, the screen getting littered with tiny droplets as he presses in numbers and letters for a search.]

If you ever want to breed him, she's been available and I think he can pass on some unique shit. Tentacool passes on screech. It's something, anyway. [The question isn't hugely pressing, just a thought while it's on his mind, and he immediately puts the Pokegear away again.]