"Helloooo everyone, and welcome to beautiful Mossdeep Beach! We have a remarkable spectacle for you today! The first annual Mossdeep Surfing Competition! And we, the Mossdeep Gym Leaders Tate & Liza, will be your insipid reporters!" Liza was moving and posing with enthusiasm while shouting into her non-functional microphone, all the while staring head-on into the small camera her twin Tate toted leisurely.
"Intrepid." Tate corrected, watching his sister through the lens, other eye winked closed.
"Gesundheit, Tate!" Liza ignored, spinning on her heels and peering out over the sand with a hand on her forehead, to block the sun.
"Does that joke ever get old?" Tate lowered the camera, smiling in frustration.
"Not a chance. Let's meet today's competitors!" Liza rushed off, kicking sand behind her heels while crossing the beach to the small crowd gathering at the shore. "Yes! One at a time! EXCUSE ME." Liza took a flying leap from the sand, sailing through the air for a few seconds, before slamming against the back of a lanky young man with messy blond hair, held out of his eyes by a sporty headband. The rest of him was bare, save for black swimming trunks with a zigzag of purple down the sides. Her limbs wrapped around his shoulders and waist, helping her cling to him like an inquisitive burr. "Morty, visiting us from Ecruteak Gym! As the underdog dark horse long-shot out-of-towner-" Tate grabbed the thesaurus from Liza's hands and tossed it behind him. "...Do you have anything to say about today's competition?"
Morty had barely even wobbled when Liza had latched onto him, but as he turned to face the young girl, his whole body moved as one in a single fluid, but solid motion. Deep purple eyes stared into hers, penetrating into her soul, but with a warmth and comfort only felt in the kitchen of a beloved grandmother or great aunt. His words came in dulcet tones: "I actually...forgot what I was doing here. But uhh...could be fun. You know." He turned back around, staring intently at the waves while they washed upon the sandy shore.
Liza fell off his back, lips pursed, trying to understand what had just happened.
Tate, meanwhile, had wandered over to another young man carefully polishing a well-worn surfboard. "Hello Brawly! It's good to see you again. You don't normally visit these parts." The camera was leisurely trained on the gently smiling figure, muscles twitching from powerful excitement barely contained by the zen-like act of surfboard maintenance.
"Oh! Yeah. But the surf is a little weak back at Dewford, so I figure I'd hop a boat and take a vacation for a few days. Thanks a lot for having me here, your town has been nothing but-" Liza came barreling up behind Brawly and attempted to latch herself onto his back in a similar way, only for the trained fighter to grab her wrists and flip her through the air onto the soft sand. "-hospitable."
Tate sighed down at his sister. Liza was giggling happily, apparently unhurt. "Right, well...do you remember what was supposed to be happening here?" He picked the camera back up again, focusing more intently through the lens.
Brawly nodded quickly, before pointing a thumb backwards; a well-tanned girl, the Elite Four Phoebe, was lounging in a beach chair while tying flowers together in a chain. "Morty and I are having a friendly competition to determine who's a better fit for her. It's a pretty funny story, actually, though a little long. But if you don't mind sitting, I can-"
Liza got up to her feet and dusted sand off the back of her one piece swimsuit before running off again, towards Phoebe. Tate quietly apologized before following; Brawly only laughed and resumed his meditation.
"Hey kids!" Phoebe sat up while they approached, setting her flowers aside. "Are you guys here to film the competition?"
Liza shook her head quickly. "Nope! There's no film in that camera. Tate just takes things very seriously."
Tate pouted and crossed his arms. "I'm professional. Sue me. Anyway, Phoebe, isn't being treated like a trophy a little demeaning?" He had the camera back up, hoping to catch her answer while simultaneously pretending Liza hadn't spilled the beans.
"Yeah." Phoebe said simply, leaning back and going back to chaining flowers together, still smiling, apparently not minding. It was a few minutes of awkward silence before Tate realized that's all she had to say, and couldn't think up any better questions. "Let's just...go meet the judges."
"Right-o!" Liza sprang back into action, jogging the short distance to the modest judges' table. Three trainers were seated at it; Liza approached the first. "Right! Today we're very honored to have the esteemed Red, all the way from Kanto! Any thoughts on the proceedings?"
Red quietly looked down at his clenched fist, before pointing at empty air with it, meeting Liza's gaze. Then he pointed slightly higher up.
Liza couldn't work with that, so she stepped over to the second judge. "Caitlin, visiting us from-" The Unova Elite Four member was fast asleep, a translucent bubble inflating and deflating under her nose. Liza moved on to the third judge...a girl in a black and white dress, reading a magazine with her boots propped up on the table. "Who even are you?"
She glanced up from it, considering her words for a brief moment, before looking back down and simply stating "...I'm an alien."
"...Let's just get the action underway, shall we? Competitors!" Tate and Liza both turned around to face Morty and Brawly...who were now both polishing Brawly's surfboard.
"I didn't bring one," Morty started to explain, "so we'll probably just both use his. That's okay, right?"
Liza dropped her microphone, clearly annoyed. Tate was laughing. She glanced over to Phoebe to see what the older girl had to think...but she was no longer on her beach chair. Another look out to see revealed the Ghost trainer out on a modest wave, expertly riding a longboard.
Liza picked her microphone back up, then threw it back down again. "This isn't like one of my teen movies at all."