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”You’re famous enough to be on TV though.” Tam himself would hate that: the fame and the attention. He’s not made for it. Enjoying something to the point of wanting to be the best at it, though? Thriving in competition? The thrill of winning? Those things he can understand. He had been like that once.
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”I think it’s cool… Not so much the commercials part, that sounds kinda boring.” As per usual, he’s direct, blunt, not even considering if his words would be hurtful or not, but it’s not like Tam has any ill-intentions. He just… doesn’t really put much thought into all of that. Sorry Marshall.
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The market is lively, and the scent of seafood paired with the loud voices of vendors promoting their wares makes for a distracting environment. There’s so much to see that it’s only when Marshall nudges him that Tam notices the crayfish. ”Oh. Not gonna lie… Pancakes sound pretty great.”
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They do. Mouthwateringly so. So much so that Tam even smiles just so slightly…
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Until the Wingull attack.
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”Holy shit.” When the gulls swoop down with cries and wails, he pulls Marshall back a step so he won’t get all scratched up. Sadly, it’s too late… The bag of crayfish falls, being grabbed by one of the birds, and a second later, Marshall runs after it, truly as if he were some kind of dog chasing after the gulls at the beach.
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At first, Tam just stands there, watching the scene before his eyes in silent disbelief, and then, he sighs.
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He could run too, he has always been a fast runner, but Tam is a ranger, and as ranger, he does what they do best: call their pokémon to help.
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Clipped to his belt, there’s three green pokéballs, and it’s quickly that he reaches for the one that rests further back. There’s a red beam of light. ”Togekiss! Get that bag!”
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With a determined squeal, the Jubilee Pokémon makes use of its EXTREME SPEED, leaving the little Wingull with no chance to outfly it. A gust tousles the ranger’s blonde hair, sky blue eyes watching as his pokémon gracefully swoops down upon the smaller bird…
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But… The Wingull has friends, and everyone knows there’s strength in numbers.
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Wails mark the return of the rest of the birds.


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Isn’t it tiring to smile like that all the time? Tam can’t help but wonder about it while they chat and enjoy their meal (although Marshall does most of the chatting), because it’s just so different from the way he is. All of his life, people have told Tam to smile more, and he has always found it difficult to fake things like those – even more to smile at any moment and for any reason. It may seem silly, but it’s because of these experiences that he finds @marshall’s apparently-endlessly-cheery disposition to be kind of admirable.
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He doesn’t say this out loud, of course.
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What he does say is short comments here and there on every topic chosen by the racer, allowing him to do most of the talking but still clearly paying close attention to what is said – the fact that the topics change so damn often actually helps. So, when Marshall mentions dragon-type training, Tam asks what kind of dragon he has and how the training went. When he talks about memes, Tam tells him about how one of the ranger cadets made a ”Do it for her.” poster with pictures of Clover (omitting the fact that Noah Camus had actually had to explain the meme to him when doing this). And when Marshall talks about having a shoot at Slateport the next day, Tam is actually reminded of something he wanted to say to him:
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”Oh. Right… You never told me you’re a pro racer, I saw you on TV the other day.” He had meant to text him about it, but then he had forgotten. ”And here I thought you were just some careless tourist wanting to have fun at the track.”
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At that, there’s actually a slight smirk. It’s funny to him.
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”If you go to Slateport, you should stop by the harbor... Wanna go buy some fish now? I’m still kinda hungry.”
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Given how much time Tam spends near said harbour, the sound of Wingull nearby is as if expected background noise to him – nothing to concern himself with.


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Tam is a hundred percent sure he wouldn’t be able to get a single word in even if he were to try. Which, truth be told, he has no intention of doing, because there just doesn’t seem to be a need for that. Marshall goes on and on and on, and Tam simply lets him do so. He doesn’t nod along, he doesn’t even give any ’Mhm’s and ’Aha’s. He just listens and walks by his side.
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There are a few things he hadn’t expected, like the fact that Marshall had actually put a lot of thought into all of this. Or, well, enough thought to have looked at reviews online and to know what he wants to try, which sure is more than what Tam himself had done. He has no idea what he wants to eat, he’ll decide that when they get there. Though cold noodles do sound pretty damn good right about now…
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Just as he thinks that, Marshall turns to look at him, giving him the brightest grin there is – as if sunshine made into a smile.
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In return, Tam stares back at him, his expression deadpan. Unfazed, unemotional, unimpressed.
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Perfect opposites.
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On the surface, at least.
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”Peanut butter.” Most people would probably expect him to say something like ‘vanilla’, or the kind of flavour that is perceived as more sophisticated, like pistachio or something, but no, sometimes Tam can have a palate akin to that of a little kid. ”Cold noodles would be good today. We should get fish, though, that sounds fun.”
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It does, even if his tone may not make it sound like he thinks as much.


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”Tam.” Is the instinctive, monosyllabic introduction made when the stranger calls him “guy”, his name being as simple as Tam likes all things to be in life. When a name is given in return, he nods, but truth be told, half of it is forgotten the moment he’s told to “just call him Sawyer”. Sawyer it is, then. ”Yeah, she’s mine. Good to meet you, Sawyer.”
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While the ranger is ever so calm, the Yamper seems to thrive in the attention of the younger Unovan, and she’s filled with excitement when the Grookey jumps off his shoulder and offers her the stick its holding – as is made obvious by the happy yapping with which she responds to the chimp’s squeaking. She loves playing fetch! It’s her favourite game ever!
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”Seems like she likes you.” Tam comments then, nodding towards the Wooloo and barely paying Clover’s antics any mind. His work as a ranger has led him to spend quite a lot of time at farms like this one over the years, and Wooloo are a pokémon he’s more than familiar with.
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The same can be said about his Ditto, who slides off his shoulder and transforms mid-fall… Into a Wooloo just like the one that clings to Sawyer, except for the goofy smiling expression. It then proceeds to roll around them all.



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Her complaints fall on deaf ears.
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Tam watches the sand, inspecting it for signs of the burrowing Sandaconda, and as he does so, @bobby’s voice is barely anything other than background noise. They had been told the Sand Snake Pokémon had last been spotted around this area, but it sure would be a problem if some sorry bastard were to step too close to where it is and get attacked from within the sand. Especially if it’s some careless kid, like those that are running around nearby…
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It’s why the caution tape is necessary, because no: the promise of snake bites isn’t enough to deter some.
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”Sure.” It’s probably not the answer she expects, but he just looks at her, his expression being as unreadable as ever. ”Don’t take them from people, though. The beach has some umbrellas for everyone to use, take those.”
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Caution tape held up by beach umbrellas, classy. Not like Tam cares about that, he just thinks it’s a better option compared to going back to HQ in search of suitable rods to put in the sand.
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”I’ll lure out the Sandaconda while you do that.”
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Just like that, he steps forward, releasing a Castform from one of the green pokéballs that had been clipped to his belt.



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Say what you will about @marshall, but he’s a pretty damn good judge of character.
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Tam is indeed the sort of guy who likes doing “lonely person things”, and watching the clouds has always been one of his favourite activities. Reading not so much, but he has been known to listen to audiobooks from time to time (and to never be interested enough in any of them to actually get to the end). Does he like going out for lunch dates with guys he barely knows? Not particularly, he sure doesn’t make a habit out of it, but when Marshall had asked, a single thought had crossed Tam’s mind: "Why not?"
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And, that’s that.
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Clad in a simple white t-shirt and light blue jeans that he sure wishes were shorts because Hoennian summer is too damn hot, Tam walks through the Lilycove fish market. It’s not a place he frequents, mostly because of how crowded it usually is, but if he had thought finding Marshall would be difficult with all these people everywhere, the other manages to prove him wrong immediately.
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Marshall reminds Tam of something like an Arcanine. Tall, eager, loud, full of energy, difficult to ignore, and impossible to go unnoticed. Admittedly, the ranger finds he doesn’t dislike that, and although he sighs, when he approaches, there’s a faint smile for a second there.
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”Hey.” His tone is as neutral as always, his sheer lack of enthusiasm definitely not being something reserved for his work hours. ”I almost missed you there.”
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Yes, that’s sarcasm.


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Tension fills the air, falling heavy upon them like if a weighted blanket. With the sight of the injured hiker and with his tales of an Absol attack being both way too fresh in Tam’s mind, he almost expects to get pounced on by the Disaster Pokémon. He’s ready to call his Snorlax to attack. In fact, he’s sure the Snorlax himself is ready to attack if it were needed.
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He takes a step forward, alert, and then…
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Then a Seedot appears before him.
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It runs in circles, it cries, it screams, and it rolls. And, through the entirety of the sentient acorn’s temper tantrum, Tam does no more than stare down at it and blink as if he were trying to make sure he’s not imagining all this.
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Then, it just leaves, and silence hangs over them for a long moment, only being broken by the sound of Memo’s laughter.
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Even Tam, who always acts as if nothing fazes him, can’t help but smile, and a chuckle escapes his lips, joining the sound of Memo’s laugh. A rare occurrence indeed.
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”...Fucking Seedot.” He laughs lightly, turning to look at his extremely confused Yamper. ”Let’s get out of here before Clover gets a Sunkern to attack us or something.”
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At that, Clover barks happily.



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Doom on you.
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How does one plan ahead for a dome suddenly appearing around the region and keeping anyone from entering or leaving? Well, there’s probably those who have bunkers ready in case the League’s plan fails and the meteor hits or something, but Tam sure isn’t one of those people. Perhaps this woman who seems so desperate to grab as many cans as she can find has a point, but if she’s desperate doesn’t that mean she also didn’t plan ahead for this?
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Even though it may seem as if he’s not paying attention, Tam watches the scene from the corner of his eye while reading the nutritional information of the few cans that are left on the shelf. A couple are put in his shopping basket, but eventually, he sighs, approaching Howl and putting a hand on their shoulder.
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”Here.” He gives the cadet the basket, and stepping closer to the woman, he brings out his ranger badge (despite the fact that his uniform clearly identifies him as such).
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”Ma’am, I understand being worried or scared with everything that’s going on, but everyone is in the same position. If you take more than what you need, others will be left with no supplies, and rangers can’t protect the people of Hoenn if our pokémon starve.”
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He stares at her, clearly not fazed by her behaviour, and once this is said, he takes a whole pack of cans directly from her cart. Can he even do that? Do rangers have the authority to do things like those? Probably not, but with how serious he sounds and how unapologetic he is about it all, anyone would surely assume that they do.
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Just like that, Tam turns to walk back towards where Howl stands, and through it all a single thought crosses his mind: ”Ugh, that was a lot of talking. People can be so damn annoying…”



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Noah.
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The trainee’s name had been spoken back when Tam was told he would be the instructor for the day, but admittedly, the Unovan wasn’t exactly good with names. It had been forgotten until Noah Camus introduced himself once again. Just like those of most other rangers often were as well.
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If Noah had known this about Tam, then perhaps his answer when asked if the Snorlax had a name would have come as no surprise:
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”Nope. Just Snorlax.”
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Tam didn’t usually name his pokémon. In fact, those that had names had them because other people had given them to them. It didn’t speak of lack of care or fondness, but of the fact that he simply didn’t think himself to be creative enough to find something that would properly suit this or that pokémon.
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So, yes, his Snorlax was just Snorlax.
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”Anything.” He repeated, watching the trainee from beneath the birch tree. The shade was more than welcomed during such a warm day, and so was the chilled drink he held. Soon enough, Noah would probably start regretting standing under the sun.



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