Sunny Petalburg was about the last place one would expect to find a shadow Pokémon, and that was kind of the point. Out here, there was nothing suspicious about a pair of trainers in a park hanging out with their charges.

Gavin's Cleffa was not a shadow Pokémon, but it served as a suitable daycare decoy.

"You've had it for a little bit, now." Weeks, in the grand scheme of things, but Serena Malcolm wasn't as green as she'd been when Walsh had entrusted the Mime Jr. to her. "How does it behave, in comparison to any other young Pokémon you've encountered?"

Gavin's gaze drifts as they walk, careful not to speak when anyone got too close.

"Mm. The one who trained it was... peculiar."

Gavin recollects Goro parading into a Littleroot contest hall on the back of a Tyrantrum, singing at full volume. It hadn't been part of Rocket's plan, but it had certainly been distracting. He wonders how much of the Mime Jr's attitude could be chalked up to Goro, and how much of it was the intrinsic malevolence of a shadow Pokemon.

"Shadow Pokémon are all unique, but most share a proclivity toward violence and an innate aggression, regardless of what they were like before the process. If you haven't already, I'd suggest a conversation with Valerio Dachev; he has a shadow Togepi. It might be interesting to figure out what he's learned in raising one so young."

Gavin's Cleffa, having been raised around his brood of shadow Pokemon, seems to have no qualms in bouncing up to the Mime Jr as if to invite it to play.

Gavin laughs, relaxed in contrast to Serena Malcolm's exasperation.

His calm demeanour falters when he follows Serena's gaze to the pair of baby Pokemon, the underboss tensing as if in expectation of conflict. Cleffa may not have been scared of her shadow siblings, calm as they were thanks to Lugia's influence, but Mime Jr was a rogue element.

He blinks, twice, when the little mime starts to play.

"Look at that." Slowly, a smile spreads across his lips, softening the severity of his features. "They really are just Pokémon, at the end of the day; I suppose that extends to the natural play instinct of youth."

Cleffa, delighted by her newfound friend, seems not to care for the conversation between trainers.

"Honestly, I don't know much about him." Gavin's shoulders lift in a shrug. He'd never worked directly with the other, and had seen only a brief glimpse of the other at Littleroot. "Think he was from the circus or something, unless that's me taking locker room talk too serious."

Rocket were known to be cutting with their gossip. It's why Gavin knows another detail, but this he doesn't share.

"He dropped off the radar after Littleroot. Probably for the best, considering — you pay any attention to the news?" He would hope so, given its importance to Rocket's current agenda, but. "Last year, the Littleroot Contest Hall disaster, you hear about the guy who rode in on a Tyrantrum? Singing? Yeah, that was him."

Gavin's gaze returns to the Mime Jr. "He had Mime Jr. with him, but Emma and I were elsewhere."

"You should pay close attention to the news, always." Advice from Gavin has a funny way of coming across like an order regardless of intention. "Most of it's bullshit, but anything we can learn of the League's actions is worth it."

Sometimes, the lack of information after tragedy spoke as much as a tell-all. Like the Blackout of Slateport.

Something passes between Pokémon and trainer that even Gavin can't wholly identify, though it strikes him as positive in the Mime Jr's smug smile. That was good. Any understanding fostered between the pair was good, however small.

Sera mentions ice cream, and Gavin hesitates on a thought. He's on a strict regimen and diet at the moment, avatar training, and his thoughts become a whirlwind of nutritional information. She pleads with him, breaking his focus, and Gavin relents. He's stuck to his training religiously, and a bit of a treat couldn't hurt.

"Sure," he relents, and gestures for her to lead the way.