Griff
The Trainer glanced up as someone called out to him. "Hey, isn't it a little risky to be walking around here without one of your Pokemon out?"
Griff recognized the girl. Well, that wasn't really saying much-- everyone at camp knew each other in some way or another, there were so few of them. Especially Trainers. Every Trainer had interacted in some way or another, whether by guard shifts or hunting parties or a coincidental meeting in the Pokemon Center while they waited to see if their injured Pokemon would live or not...
He shrugged and casually ruffled his hair, flashing Mic the half-smile that ladies went wild over. "Heyyy, we're close enough to the others here. S'all good, love." Suddenly, something occurred to him; he rummaged around in his pockets until he pulled out the crumpled up receipt that Oak had written his instructions on the back of. "Hey, Mic," he yelled, waving her over. "I got sent with this message from Old Man Oak, I's supposed to round up these Trainers back at the lab. You're on here. Dunno what he wants us for."
Griff rubbed the back of his neck. He hated asking anyone for help, especially women-- after all, he had to show them how masculine and protective he could be, right? But, his laziness won out, and he pointed to the list, saying, "Couldja help out a fellow Trainer, here? I's supposed to round up..." He read them off, "Jae Fuji, Taifuyu Chen, Nero, Loraine Leigh, Mic, Griff-- that's you and me, obviously-- and Melody Summers." He pointed with his thumb. "That's Summers' house right there, so I got that handled. But it might take me all day to round them up, so..." He stuck out his lower lip. "Pleeeaaase?"
At that moment, the door to the house swung open. "Always a pleasure to see you, Griff," said a woman's voice. Griff spun around, miming surprise at the sight of Melody. Despite it being her own house.
"Aww, Summers, what a koinky-dink!" He grabbed her into a (falsely) affectionate hug, even pretending to sniffle a little. "It's been so long, why, look how you've grow--"
At that moment, her Krookodile started barking and snarling. Griff yelped like a little girl, leaping backwards. "Keep a hold of your sand-mutt!" he shouted. "It's going nuts!"
Though Griff could tell the girl wanted nothing more than to let her Pokemon bite his leg off, she calmed it, and said, "Is it hunting related again? I thought we were okay for supplies."
"Oh, dear no, love," said Griff, smiling in that I'm-more-well-informed-than-you-are superior way. "I'm on a little quest for Old Man Oak. He wants me to grab some friends of ours--" he waved around the receipt, plainly marked with Oak's scrawling, cramped handwriting-- "and meet him back at the lab, and, oh, look at this!" His eyes widened as if he'd never seen it before, jabbing her name with his finger. "You're on here-- and I'm on here! Looks like whatever he wants us for, we're going to be partners, love." He beamed at her.
Then he realized the awkward scene had been fully observed by Mic. He shoved his hands back in his pockets and mumbled, "Oh, yeah, Summers, Mic. Mic, Summers. Mic's on the list too." He scuffed his sneaker in the dirt.
