Alola was a lovely place. It was one of Grimsley’s more favorite places to vacation (despite being overrun with the tiny, fluffy little murder machines known only as cutiefly) and normally he would have stayed in one of his family’s very fancy, very expensive vacation homes; unfortunately some asshole shitlords had taken up residence in the entire town and spray painted everything and the local police seemed to be not entirely concerned with doing anything about those hooligans.
So Grimsley had to find somewhere else to stay, and thankfully, his hotel offered ferry services to the rest of the islands. It was easy then to find a beach both he and his pokemon liked, and with plenty of water bottles in hand and dressed in his nice white yukata, he made his way and found himself at one of the many premiere beach spots Alola was simply famous for. Oh, he knew many friends who would be jealous of him right now; the water was crystal clear, perfect for his sharpedo, the sand was so delightfully warm against his feet, and there was a nice little restaurant at the far end of his vision that wonderful reviews online. Apparently they sold the best steamed corphish in all of Alola; Grimsley would definitely need to try it some time before he went home.
That would be for later, though, once he and his babies finished enjoying the sand, the waves, the sun. Dark type they all may have been, but there was something enjoyable about the summer sun beating down over the pendulus scraping of the sea on sandy shores. Grimsley. Loved. The beach. And so he prepared to let out his pokemon one by one, first his land pokemon, and once he was closer to the water, out would come sharpedo, and they would all have a good time. He was reaching for his tyranitar’s pokeball as he stepped forward when he bumped into someone, and he quickly turned to greet them.
“Ah. Pardon me. I was overexcited and neglected to watch where I was walking.” And then he paused to wait patiently for them to reply, gazing upon them with an expectant eye.
