“Okay, guy,” the stranger in lifeguard shorts said, giving Sy a thumbs up, “you’re good to go. Thanks for volunteering!”

“Yeah, no sweat,” Sy said, hopping down from the lifeguard chair and transferring ownership of the silver whistle. He’d been filling in to get some good citizen hours in, as well as some time under the sun. Unfortunately for him, he was the gingeriest of ginger, so all the sunblock in the world couldn’t stop him from turning the slightest bit pink before he’d brown.

Job done, he trekked off towards the upper end of the beach, where he’d seen a surfboard rental sign.

Along the way, he released his veritable hoard of baby pokemon: Merengue, Fuschia, and Thistle, as well as Vermillion to help keep a protective eye over everything. Of course, Thistle ran straight into trouble, rushing off to harass a little Zorua, standing nearby. She tapped the Tricky Fox Pokemon on the back with one of her little scythes and then flailed them in the air-- an invitation to play.

Sy located a human nearby, an older man who, judging by his floral shirt and air of relaxation, was definitely on the beach to have a chill time.

“Hi, is that your Zorua?" Sy asked, slipping his hand into the pocket of his swimtrunks. "It's cute."

Berthold Hawthorne

☉

It was comical, actually, how quickly the Noivern dealt with the Drednaw. One second it was up, just sunning itself in the vicinity, and the next second its legs had buckled and it fell to the ground with a powerful whump, causing a small hillock of sand to form up in the outline of its body.

Thistle continued to pantomime her strange, flailing, sort-of-but-not-really-a-hug dance at the Zorua, whom she was trying to get to play. It didn’t seem to quite be understanding the message, however, so Merengue, Togepi and partner in crime, jumped in to referee. Unfortunately, as was often the case of baby Pokemon, more things got lost in translation between another set of flailing arms and a squeaky voice.

“Aww, that’s okay, bud,” Sy said, bending over with his hands on his knees to get a bit closer to the Zorua. He gave the Tricky Fox a mischievous wink. “If you just run around a bit, they’ll get distracted real soon. You’ll see.”

Thistle gave her trainer a death-glare but Merengue had already spotted something of greater interest, and toddled off to investigate.

“I’m Symon,” Sy said, shaking Berthold’s hand. “And this is my… parcel of rascals, I guess. Sorry to intrude on your day.” He turned to his small crew: Fuschia and Vermillion were playing with a seashell, Thistle was still trying to harass the Zorua into playing, and Merengue--

--Merengue had doubled?

Sure ‘nuff, over came his little Spike Ball, with another in tow. Both Togepi waltzed over to Sy and raised their stubby arms in a request to be picked up-- so he did, gathering one in the crook of each arm.

“Huh,” Sy said, “weird. Are you lost, little guy?”

The not-Merengue Togepi shrilled his classic toge-piiiiiiiii, and seemed happy enough to be held.

catch attempt togepi ! Berthold Hawthorne

☉

Out of all the little ones in Sy’s possession, Thistle was probably the biggest handful. Everyone was her friend and yet, sometimes Symon got the feeling she’d murder everyone in their sleep without blinking twice if she got the inkling.

Oh, well. Kids, right?

When the Zorua chose to go after Merengue instead of taking Thistle’s invite to play, she turned and gave her trainer a silent, get-a-load-of-this-guy look. Sy shrugged.

Then Merengue came back with another Togepi in tow-- Thistle shuddered. Not another one. Finally, though, she got what she wanted. The Zorua addressed her and asked what she wanted to do.

Do you want to dig sinkholes for people to fall into, she asked. Or steal people’s sunblock so they burn. Or knock down sandcastles.

Sy, meanwhile, was more focused on watching Berthold deal with the wayward Sealeo. He went about it with a gentlemanly aplomb that Sy approved of.

“Well, Lilycove’s beach is generally pretty hectic, what with the tourists and their Pokemon and then the Pokemon they attract in turn,” Sy said, his arms still full of Togepi, “so I can only imagine Slateport’s is just as bad. I was just filling in for the Lifeguard for a shift for some volunteer hours.”

Vermillion the Comfey noticed a little, pink form lingering nearby; she floated over, discovering a Snubbull half-hidden behind a small dune of sand, which looked to be the remnants of a sandcastle. The two conversed for a moment before Verm led the little bulldog over. The lei made a back-and-forth flipping motion that Sy took to be an introduction, so he knelt down-- carefully, with the little Togepis in tow-- and smiled. “Hey, little guy. Are you all out here on your own, too?” The Snubbull barked an affirmation. “Well, maybe you’d like to come with us?” He jerked his head towards Thistle and the Zorua. “That’s the rest of my gang. Maybe they’d let you tag along?”

And that was how Berthold’s Zorua found himself another tag-alonger, eyes gleaming with mischief.

catch attempt snubbull !
Berthold Hawthorne

☉

Thistle tilts her head to the side, considering. This was a unique opinion, one she was not likely to get from anyone on her dad’s party. Vermillion was too stuck up, and the rest of them? Babies. All of ‘em, babies. So she nods her head and waggles her scythes with excitement.

Let’s do that.

The Snubbull-- who she already thought of as her brother, because that was how Thistle functioned-- also thought this sounded like a good idea. Oh, now she was roping others into her naughty games-- if Vermillion found out she’d be mantis suey.

Back in Sy-land, Sy shifted his armful of spikey egg balls and grinned at Berthold. “Ah, I work at the Lilycove Mall,” he said, deciding that maybe he didn’t need to go into the nitty-gritty of it. Not that he was ashamed, of course-- but there were people who handled it better, and people who let it color their entire interpretation of him. But he was more than his job and his fantastic pecs. “Born and raised in Lilycove, actually.”

He watched the strange soap opera with the squid and the walrus for a moment in confused silence.

“What about you?” he asked. “Have you been in Hoenn long?”

passing !
Berthold Hawthorne

☉

Thistle and Mauve-- the Snubbull, his name was Mauve-- high fived and trailed after their Zorua leader, scanning the beach for an appropriate victim. It had to be someone who was, at present, inordinately pale, hoping to get brown by the end of the basking day.

“Ah, well,” Sy waves the idea of distance away with a flick of his hand, “go where they need you, right?” It was just a quick bus ride down to Slateport for the day and, to be honest, growing up in one place sometimes made you sick of that place, even a place as beautiful as Lilycove. “I like coming down to Slateport. It’s… a different flavor of the same ice cream, if you catch my drift.”

Their quickly growing party was broken up by a loud crash of water, and a beachfull of ooohs and aaahs as a pod of Wailmer came close to the beach. They were breaching the waves and coming dangerously close to getting stuck on the sand-- one deflected off another and did hit the shore, rocking back and forth in place for a moment. Sy quickly collected it in a Pokeball, to save it from heat and sunstress.

catch attempt wailmer !
Berthold Hawthorne

☉