A glimpse of recognition in Gavin's amber gaze is concealed by the tint of his sunglasses, honey-blond hair dyed dark for the tournament. It's fortunate, for something in the courier's gaze hints toward recognition.

Thankfully, he seems to dismiss it.

Best hope that legendary isn't nearby to sell us out.

He can feel Lugia's acknowledgement of potential threat as a surge of misplaced anger in the back of his mind. It doesn't show; he smiles, instead.

"Ready."

Carracosta sets them up with a RAIN DANCE, the SWIFT-SWIMMING tortoise most at home in the downpour. Gavin, too, seems comfortable as droplets spatter against his skin and soothe the late-night Hoenn heat.

Frostmoth's TAILWIND billows across the beach, further adding to the pleasant atmosphere.

Only Riolu goes on the offensive, lunging for the Winggull with a swipe of her METAL CLAWS.

"Can't help but run with rain teams in a place this hot."

Unfortunately, he hadn't brought out all of his rain dancers; most of them were recovering from one battle or another. Only the boundless energy of youth kept the Riolu on its paws after the amount of fighting she's done.

She stumbles and lets out a frustrated growl as her claws phase through the mirage, blasted with ice from behind that knocks her off her paws. Gavin whistles to focus her attention, then signals to the Frosmoth and clicks.

With a HELPING HAND from the little jackal, Frosmoth casts a BLIZZARD across the beach. Though it's clear the shards of stone have damaged her wings, the silver moth remains airborne and determined.

Meanwhile, BRINE splashes up from the waves that lap at the shore to target the Kabutops.

"Accent didn't give me away?"

It's teasing, accompanied by a flash of teeth.

Though Gavin Merlino made it a point to have no discernable accent beyond touches of Hoenn and Kanto from his time with Rocket, Liam King utilized the full power of Gavin's Galarian roots.

"From across the pond in Galar. You local?"

Carracosta reels in surprise as the icy attack hurts more than it's expecting. It draws upon ANCIENT POWER to hurl sand and rocks toward the Wingull.

"Punish that."

Riolu, momentarily untargeted by her foes, COPIES the FREEZE-DRY and aims at the Kabutops.

Frosmoth rides its TAILWIND to dodge the sweep of Wingull's wings, firing back with an INFESTATION of tiny bugs.

"I'm not even going to bother trying a Unovan accent for the laugh; they'd deport me for the offense."

It's easy to joke, to laugh, to pretend he's not the man who'd ordered someone's death in front of the courier not so long ago. He's spent far too long pretending.

"Heard of it," he confirms. "Never been, though. What's the climate like?"

A WIDE GUARD shimmers, defending against hurricane winds. Riolu, too, protects herself with a QUICK GUARD to shield itself against the incoming Kabutops.

Carracosta is not so lucky. Already weakened from earlier attacks, its shell splits beneath the force of the ice beam and the tortoise slumps forward in the sand. She struggles, trying to right herself before blacking out.

Gavin returns her, frowning.

Poor Riolu doesn't stand a chance.

Her barrier shatters on account of the feint and it leaves her open to the blast of water from Wingull. Their team wasn't set up for long-term sustain and didn't come equipped with healing, a pretty clear indicator of a late-night match where most of his good team comps had been worn down.

"Galar's pretty mild down south but the winters up north can be brutal. Parts of the country where it's snow year-round."

He'd grown up in Circhester, longed for the cool climate even if he didn't miss the family that had driven him from his former home. He missed the mountains the most; volcanoes and graveyards in Hoenn didn't cut it.

Left as the only surviving member of his team, Frosmoth sets up a REFLECTIVE barrier.

Gavin scrunches up his expression in response to the cacophony.

The howl of a BLIZZARD is added to the din, a sparkling swirl of snowflakes carried across the beach by the tailwind.

When the noise dies down, conversation resumes.

"I'd say so, but I'm biased."

For a brief moment, there's a somewhat sad quality to his smile. So quick that a blink might miss it, cause doubt as to whether it had been there at all.

"Ballonlea is a real sight to see. Nowhere else like it, I've heard."

"It's right in the middle of the Glimwood Tangle; bit of a dangerous trek for the unprepared, but a capable trainer like yourself shouldn't have much trouble."

Capable, indeed, if he had that strange legend at his side.

Though the tailwind helps him to dodge the volley of stones, the water pulse soaks Frosmoth's wings and weighs them down. He's flagging, weak, and it's clear he won't hold out much longer.

Gavin chuckles at 'this'. "Spent a fortune on sunscreen since I got here."