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The kids here sure were sprightly. Well, calling them kids was an insult, but moving on; Vyn's lips curled as one particular lad she couldn't help but recognize upon taking a look started hitting on her so to speak. The young Cassanova listed several relation they could posses, climaxing (figuratively speaking) at Booty Call. "I'm up for whatever." She shrugged (for he was not a bad looking lad), but his attention had been taken away by another new (and confronting) arrival. Brow furrowed and fixated on his portrait she mused. Yes, she had seen him. Obviously at Olivine port, but that couldn't be the only place, could it? Still in a world of wonder and placing faces, the second bounding boy was eager with something or another. She couldn't quite tell what the something was, for she was still trying to place the face of the strawberry blonde bloke, so mildly nodded, as to not come off too rude.

Hang on. Radical? That was a term she had heard before. Wait, he mentioned fighting, didn't he? So that must mean... Her brow relieved and and fingers curled into fists. "Oh! yea, sure. I am down for a good Brawly and an ol', one-two." She finally responded, snickering a bit with the added left jab and right-hook movement. The radical-ness had been the subject to catch her attention rather than the overlooked (and exceedingly accurate) 'awesome' praise. This kid must be from Dewford then. She thought, giving the head-banded fellow a scan. She had met a young man a while back in her life who had visited Chuck and trained with her predecessor, using surfer lingo wherever he could. That young man had been Brawly, the fighting leader of Hoenn. It was convenient for him, Brawly that is, seeing how Cianwood City was also situated next to a vast and wild sea with many 'Big Waves' for the surfer to surf on. This kid must be his successor, with an equal love of fighting and surfing.

Blinking her bangs from her eyes, long strands having fallen downwards, Vynessa grinned at the boy. "It'll be good making an acquaintanceship with you." She told him, then proceeding to spin 180 degrees, taking several paces backwards to face the ship and the slow and steady stream of disembarking passengers.

Why hello? It seemed Casanova really was a playboy. Two identical (in the face department) twins had found their way to the growing boardwalk party and had almost instantaneously been targeted by strawberry blonde bloke, who she was still certain she had seen before. Upon announcing his name, Vyn snapped her fingers and made a few shooting points in his direction. He was that kid who used to train with a scyther outside Jasmine's Gym, wasn't he? Vyn knew she had seen his face (several times) somewhere, however he was obviously much older now, thus making it more difficult for her to identify him. So he is actually just from Olivine. Well what would you know? They were gym neighbour buddys.

The twins proceeded to speak in unison then skipped off down the boardwalk towards the 'to-be' leader who had wheel chaired their way straight to dry land. The girls seemed interesting enough, however the back of the hand insult was disconcerting. Quantity over quality? They did realize that there was two of them, so in retrospect, they were unintentionally insulting themselves too. Oh well. Conniving girls will be conniving girl.

The topic now stood at a battle between Mikael, now dubbed 'Scales' and Jericho, the apparent man of the hour (or more accurately, man of ten-ish minutes). She was all for watching a battle, and couldn't help but point out that, "Well, guys, I am all for watching a battle, but maybe you should move this skirmish for dominance to solid ground before you destroy the pier, and inhibit anyone else disembarking, you know? Talking to you Scales." She jeered, noting that he had paid little attention to her or Brawly Jr. "Piers are a pain in the arse to mend. Having to replace all those struts." She continued, directing the latter statement to her fighting compatriot and the other girl who had disembarked before she had.

The collective began to diminish and race off for the sands and lands of the island their not-so-merry band would be calling home in the coming weeks. Vyn scratched her head, snug beneath the elastic of her goggles. Casanova just said Trousersnake. He was either really proud of his own, thus naming his serpentine pokemon after the beastie, or simply lewd enough to name the pokemon such a name as a joke... Or, maybe just both? Yea. Probably both.Taking into consideration how forward he seemed to be with the women, Vyn wasn't going to put it past him. Pulling a 'not bad' expression, Vynessa brought her hands together and interlocked her fingers, cracking knuckles as the lads prepared for their battle.

The words 'Goldenrod too', Caught the blonde's ear, an about turn following afterwards. Ah, so she was talking to me. Thought the woman, looking towards the female compatriot. "Aye, that I am." She simply responded, feeling rather accomplished and pleased that someone managed to take note of her existence. This lass had quite the memory. Vyn hadn't been to Goldenrod for quite some time, and seeing how Stell was the protege of Pryce was it? Must have meant she couldn't have been there for an extensive amount of time in the last year at least.

This new piece of information caused Vyn to concentrate on it rather than the battle about to unfold as she strolled off of the pier and onto the mainland. How far back was she remembering? Let see now? She does have iconically long hair, however that feature is just due to time, so wouldn't equate to a deciding factor. Perhaps it was her dress code? Vyn always had a fondness for turtlenecks, plus, she used to wear a saffron gilet as a teen over the turtle neck sweaters. Alright, Vyn was over thinking things. She was always by the train station and bicycle store, for that was near the location of her fathers workshop, and he often took her to the station with him to sort out the (rather buggy) train line. Finally, her eyes were pretty spectacular. Such a deep blue that in some lighting appeared violet in colour. Come to think of it, Stell's eyes seemed pretty fantastic to say the least. They were so pure, almost diamonds. Diamonds frequently imitated in nature by both complexity and beauty. That hard beauty was Ice. This ice however, seemed to be melting more than anything else.

Making her way over to the twins and the wheel-bound gent, Miss Everton released to beams of light, formulating the sentient beings of her Pokemon. In essence, the pair had only just been bound to the confides of their Pokeballs, however that was the rules of the boat deck and halls. Pokemon in Pokeballs. End of story. Bourbon coo'd and Brandy caw'd then the pair turned their attention to the battle in motion, The Breloom being more keen to watch than his chicken counterpart. She, seemed happy to flit her gaze between other things, the Gallade and the Hawlucha being two such beings.