Environmental Appropriation

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What would have perhaps been a somewhat tolerable area if not for its extreme saturation with water, Cattail Marsh served as a unique mix of unpleasant traits. It was difficult to navigate and made it practically impossible to avoid getting dirty, and the landscape wasn't particularly appealing to the eyes either. It was nothing special to look at, though some of the inhabitants supposedly had a tendency to put up a bit of a light show during the nights. It was daytime despite what the low light from the cloudy sky may have suggested, so the flashing lights of illumise and volbeat were nowhere to be found. Perhaps later into the day, this would change, but that remained to be seen. Besides, this wasn't a primary concern, at least for a certain blue-ringed umbreon who had made her way into the marsh.

Krikka despised the disgusting, soggy ground, and she knew it would only get worse as they ventured further into the environment and inevitably came across larger quantities of water. Thus far, she hadn't had to get her fur wet and dirty, but this would surely change in due time. She stared ahead into the awful marshland, silently dreading her decision to come here despite having reasons. She knew there was something going on in the area that had to do with one of the warring deities, but she had no interest in such matters. Furthermore, even if she had decided to take interest, she certainly wouldn't have chosen to assist Zygarde. But, alas, this day was not one for concern over someone else's battles. On this day, the umbreon had a different goal in mind.

What was her goal in coming to such a place that she despised? It wasn't to assist in the war, nor was it to see the light show. She had just acquired a new... asset, and, simply put, she wished to test his capabilities. A semi-aquatic environment seemed like a great place to test the limitations of a buizel. He had already proven that, at the moment, he was currently lacking in combat and skills in general. With this in mind, Krikka wanted to see if he could at least perform well in an environment tailored to him. She needed to get a good idea of his limitations before she could start making any efforts to help him overcome them. Plus, since she doubted it would be easy to get him to surpass her in anything on land, she was considering playing to his strengths and training him specifically for the water so as to give him a distinct use.

Krikka assumed this environment wouldn't be particularly unpleasant for Solus, but as for herself, she was not looking forward to it. She had stopped in front of a large body of water, knowing it was a sign that they were entering the true marsh. The water seemed shallow enough to walk through, at least for the time being, but that didn't mean she was eager to do so. She looked down at her reflection in the water in front of her, seeing her own displeasure with the situation. She then looked back ahead, hoping to find a way around getting herself dirty. Aside from cattails and the occasional tree, there wasn't much. "So, how well can you swim?" she questioned mostly out of curiosity. Swimming didn't seem required, at least at the current time, but she still wanted to know. Perhaps this was a question she should have asked before deciding to take her new buizel out for a test run. It wouldn't have mattered either way, though, as she fully intended to teach him how to swim if he couldn't already. Swimming was the best way for him to have an immediate use, so he needed to be good at it.

The croagunk had managed to get impressively close, and if given a mere moment more of free reign, it may have even forced Krikka to take a step back in avoidance. Sadly for the stubborn foe, he was just a bit too slow, a bit too late and a bit too weak. It wasn't like he had any real options after walking right into the setup for the painful attack, but it was surprising to see him opt to continue struggling to attack instead of trying to move out of the way in self-preservation. Did he truly expect for himself to be able to do anything even if he did somehow manage to land a blow? It was quite clear that his go-to attack was a punch of some sort, which was no doubt fighting-typed in nature and would probably have been painful had it been able to land. Despite this, the umbreon didn't perceive much threat in the possibility... aside from the threat to her ego. She had a fairly high tolerance to pain thanks in part to her preferred method of fighting by outlasting opponents. Solus had taken a hit from the croagunk and gotten back up without too much trouble, which meant it couldn't have been too harmful. It was obvious enough to Krikka that a punch or two wasn't going to do her in, but despite this, it was still quite important to her to avoid being touched.

From a logical standpoint, it was best to avoid taking any unnecessary hits just to preserve her energy for any potential future conflicts. However, in reality, even this sound reasoning was overshadowed by her pride. She had already decided this croagunk wasn't worthy of the satisfaction of so much as laying a single hand on her, and so it was a matter of principle that she not allow him to make contact with any of his attacks. It was about sending a message more than anything else; this lowly swamp thug needed to understand just how inferior he was. This was the most befitting punishment the vixen could think to enact upon he who dared to cross her. Since he seemed to believe himself worthy of talking down to someone such as her, he surely had an ego of his own, which meant being brushed aside so effortlessly would surely hit him harder than any amount of physical pain could. That said, the most recent pulse of negativity seemed to have done quite a number nonetheless, knocking the uncultured brute right off his feet and throwing him violently into the shallow water with a splash.

For a moment, Krikka simply waited in her position at a safe distance, making no moves to do... anything, really. She wasn't waiting to see if the frog would be getting back up, as she was already fairly certain her attack had been enough to lay him out. Rather, she was considering her options for what to do with him now that she had emerged victorious. Of course, the victory itself wasn't much of an accomplishment, but the situation still presented her with a few rewards despite this. For one, she had sated her own ego, but aside from that, she now had her opponent at her mercy. She raised her left paw to take a step toward the weak little man, intending to check if she needed to hit him again and perhaps brag again. Alas, her plan was delayed as a sudden haze of sorts overcame her, bringing about a spell of dizziness that dragged her paw back down to the ground so as to steady her body and keep herself from falling. All the variety and rapid succession in her attacks did not come without cost, and now that her adrenaline was dying down, she was beginning to pay the price.

For a moment, the umbreon stood mostly motionless, hanging her head toward the ground and shutting her eyes as she waited for the feeling to pass. It wasn't terribly severe, but it was evidence that her endurance still needed work, as did her attack execution. She was able to overpower weaker opponents and strategize her way to victory against stronger ones, but she was still a fairly poor fighter when it came down to it. She was particularly bad with energy management, having burned enough of her vitality away in such a short exchange to affect her despite actively trying not to. Granted, he had gotten a bit carried away with the idea of preventing her enemy from making contact with her, and it seemed she had used a bit more energy than was perhaps necessary to ensure she managed this feat. "Guess I went a little far, then. Noted," she muttered to herself, not intending for anyone else to hear her, let alone understand what she was talking about.

Fortunately, this feeling of weakness wasn't too severe, limited mostly to dizziness that she was finding it relatively easy to wait out. Still, though, she had no desire to move more than she needed to now that the unpleasant feeling was upon her. She opened her eyes and lifted her head once more just to check on her prize and make sure he wasn't going anywhere. Then, after reassuring herself through the site of the blue figure sprawled out in the water, she turned toward Solus, or rather, where she thought Solus was. It turned out he had backed further into the safety of the water, which wouldn't have bothered her so much if not for his relative lack of use thus far in this outing. She now had a bit of a bias against his every action, and so she found herself agitated by the sight of the buizel drifting out in the water, apparently playing with some new toy he had found. She needed to have a talk with him about his weird habit of picking random things up off the ground, but for now, there were more important things to address. She wanted to call him back over to her just to slap him for all the collective disappointment and annoyance he had presented thus far, but for the time being, she had something else in mind.

"Solus," Krikka spoke with a distinct audibility in her commanding tone, making sure the single word was clear and loud enough to get her pet's attention. Now that she had incapacitated the attacker, at least for the moment, there were many things she wanted to do. At the same time, she found herself less-than-eager to make the trip over to him herself, which was where Solus came in: "Make yourself useful and check our mutual acquaintance here for anything useful. While you're at it, feel free to give him a good slap if he misbehaves." Despite the initially stern tone she had taken, her manner of speech shifted back to its usual, deceptively casual state as she issued her command. No matter how annoyed she was, she wasn't particularly fond of showing it, at least when there were others around to see and hear. Solus already knew how she was on the inside and how she felt about... things in general, but she still wanted to preserve a bit of dignity in her demeanor, even around him. Then there was the croagunk, who at least seemed to be clinging to consciousness if nothing else.

Sure, he was an enemy, but this didn't mean his opinion of her didn't matter. She wanted to appear as in control of herself as possible in an effort to further instill the appearance of dominance that she was grasping for. Even if she would never see this pest again, she didn't want to leave him with any room to think lowly of her in any way. As evidenced by her desire to prove her superiority, she really had no intention of killing him despite how annoying he was. Actually, in a way, she respected his bold attitude and unwillingness to back down from someone whom he had to have realized he wasn't going to beat. That kind of blind devotion was impressive, even if it was mere devotion to his own pride. This didn't mean she disliked him any less, but regardless, there was a distinct sense of respect for this determination even if everything else about the savage merited nothing more than dismissal. It would not spare him the same treatment the devious umbreon presented to virtually everyone else she came across, but on the bright side, he was actually going to get off quite easy. All she wanted to do was leave him with a wounded ego and perhaps rob him, though she doubted he would have anything worth taking. It was at least worth checking if he had anything noteworthy on him, but that seemed more like a job for the slave-buizel.

With Solus in mind, there was one more thing Krikka wanted to say. She had neglected to acknowledge him prior, her attention having favored the "fight" if it could even have even been called that, but now that she no longer had much else to pay attention to, she figured she would address the single word the weasel had spoken. His tone alone had made it clear enough that he had been confused by this word, and thus, it was important to clarify to him that it meant nothing. "By the way, don't get used to being called "friend." It's a figure of speech, and one I won't use if you're gonna take it seriously," she finally gave her response to the question she had previously ignored, making every effort to be as straightforward as possible. Maybe the croagunk would hear and find some way to use this statement to fuel his own annoying presence, but Solus had already made it awkward by so audibly questioning it anyway, so there wasn't much point in trying to word anything carefully or speak in privacy at this point.

All she'd wanted to do was sound cool, and the dumb idiot just had to go and ruin it by taking a single word too seriously.

Upon being addressed by Krikka, Solus immediately dropped the orb he had into his paws and stood—or rather swam—at attention. He proceeded to make his way back toward the dryer area where the two combatants were, dropping the orb he had found into his bag. He had worn the bag the entire time, and it had been submerged multiple times. Fortunately, there was nothing in the bag that would be damaged by the water and the material was very porous, allowing for the water to move quickly out of the bag. If he needed to actually fight in the water, or move at any quick speed in the water, he'd have dropped it, as it would have caused unwanted drag; but as he wasn't in any dire need of speed, it was fine having it on him.

Krikka wanted Solus to search the croagunk for anything useful. He could do that. He didn't want to go near the croagunk as he wasn't interested in getting attacked in a last-ditch effort of retaliation; fortunately, he had a particularly useful skill—though it rarely saw use in recent times—that was perfectly suited for this. The buizel approached the croagunk with little observable caution. He kept from getting close enough for the sprawling Pokemon to reach him if he decided to jump up and try and attack again—not that he looked like he was even able. Solus withdrew a stick from his bag and held it out in front of him as if studying it like some interesting discovery. He responded to Krikka's addendum in a deadpan tone. "Please never call me friend again." He then moved at a speed so fast it was impossible to track. One moment he had a waterlogged stick in this paw; the next, he had a ribbon. Switcheroo: a move he's had for as long as he could remember. e suspected it was passed down from one of his parents. If it was from his father it was the only good thing that came from him. If it was from his mother, it was the only thing that came from her, who—and whatever she was.

The buizel turned the accessory over in his paws, deemed it useless, and used Switcheroo again, finding the stick back in his grasp. "All he had was a ribbon, like mine. If you want it I'll take it back." He doubted she would want it. He left the croagunk and returned to Krikka's side to await her next move or command. He had considered, for just a moment, to take a free shot at the croagunk while he was down, but decided against it if only because it was a waste of energy. Returning to his superior, Solus kept a casual, calm demeanour but was fully prepared and even expecting the umbreon to turn on him at any point. When she inevitably did, he wasn't planning on trying to avoid or counter any attacks—that would just make things worse in the long run.

For a few long, tortuous moments, Goro struggled to rise from his position, laying half-spread out in the shallow waters, arms bent behind him. His limbs shook tremulously in his efforts, his head throbbing from a harsh impact that he'd sustained at some point within his recent fights, with only the thought of fighting onward to combat the growing fatigue spreading through him. Honestly, at this point, it was all he wanted to do to just... lay there. Take the loss and rest. Recover. Fight another day. He knew he was going to wake up tomorrow sore as hell, as even now his body stung painfully, aching from the repeated shock waves he'd endured. But his opponents had no qualms with killing whatever inconvenienced them; he'd seen as much, watching them murder a wild Poliwhirl for whatever reason. It was that thought that pushed him to at least raise his head to see what they were up to.

Fortunately (or, perhaps, unfortunately) the pair of travelers seemed largely unconcerned with him. The Buizel he couldn't immediately see, and but the fox Pokémon still stood where she had the whole time, her eyes trailing from him to search for her companion. He didn't track her gaze, content to keep his eyes on the more dangerous of the two intruders, but was shocked to hear her command the Weasel Pokémon to search him for anything valuable. Quickly, his head turned towards where Krikka was looking, taking in the Buizel suddenly standing to attention and swimming to dry land. What the fuck? They weren't going to kill him, but rob him? What were they, petty outlaws? His eyes shone with shock and fury as he tracked the Buizel slowly making his way to him, the Croagunk's fatigued body filling itself with a surge of new life, willing and eager to fight off the weaker of the two to protect what was his.

Not that he had anything on him, other than a decorative little ribbon he'd come across when he found his shack. But dammit, it was his, and he wasn't about to let some little coward Buizel just strut up and take it from him. Sluggishly, Goro pushed himself forward out of the water so that he was kneeling in the shallows, rather than spread out on his back. It wasn't exactly an improvement, but at least this way he could slug the fucking weasel as soon as it got it close to him. He was not about to give up what was his to some whipped little coward. The Croagunk seemed a sorry picture, kneeling in the muddy waters, one hand supporting him on the ground while the other hovered anxiously in front of him as the Buizel approached. Surprisingly, it stopped a distance away from him, either thinking twice about approaching the Croagunk or about to take a potshot at him.

When Solus performed his Switcheroo move, the Buizel's paws flashing around a stick that suddenly turned into his  Joy Ribbon, the Croagunk's eyes boggled. Sure enough, one glance at his left arm where it was tied, there was now a stick lying at his side. His eyes swung back to the Water-type, Goro almost about to try and rush forward, but thankfully the Buizel performed the strange move again after studying the ribbon for a moment, the stick suddenly back in his hands and Goro's ribbon lying to his side. His brow furrowed and whatever indignant anger fleeing from him, Goro slowly picked up his ribbon, holding it loosely in his left hand while Solus decided he had other shit to do, turning from the injured Croagunk and fleeing back to his mistress' side. Dumbfounded at the strange experience, Goro drunkenly raised himself from his kneeling position, standing on two wobbly legs, his countenance visibly struggling. His battles had taken more out of him than he cared to admit; the Poliwhirl and the Buizel weren't so bad, but that fucking fox packed more power than he'd have guessed.

Belatedly, Goro realized that for the first time in his life, he'd lost a fight. Technically speaking, he could still try and salvage a victory and rush the pair of travelers again, but even he realized that all that would earn him was a foolish death. No, they'd elected to see if he had anything worth stealing instead; and the Buizel had wanted him alive for some reason... He cast another glance at Solus, studying the Buizel's profile intensely, not understanding the plea of mercy now that his fight was done with. All Goro had done to him was sucker-punch him once and outmaneuver him in a little mock-fight - certainly nothing to keep his mistress from shoving a spike into his chest.

Rather than speak, Goro elected to hold his silence. He was still at the mercy of these two, as infuriating a thought as that sounded. Not that he'd want to fight, anyway. The Croagunk was still trying to come to terms with the fact that he'd run into someone so much more powerful than him; all it had taken was two Dark Pulses and Goro had been put down. Easy as that. For the first time ever, he'd been beaten, and so easily, as well. His opponent literally hadn't moved a fucking muscle since the fight started, only standing stoically while he danced around her pathetically. Even now, she stood in the same place. Goro's gaze dropped almost shamefully from the two to study the ground, the Croagunk standing silently in front of the two travelers in the distance, face souring and his fist clenching the ribbon in his left hand in bitter fury.

Krikka stood idly by and watched as her pet effectively frisked the virtually defenseless opponent. It didn't seem like he had anything of particular worth, but it was still worth checking just to be sure. However, his possessions weren't what interested the outlaw most; rather, her attention was drawn to the croagunk's managing to get back to his feet... sort of. He was obviously in no condition to continue fighting, and yet here he was, forcing his body to cooperate and get up despite how obviously futile it was. He surely knew by this point that he wouldn't be winning, and yet he seemed prepared to continue fighting to his last breath if afforded the opportunity. Still, he seemed sensible enough to at least restrain himself from forcing the battle to continue, instead accepting the mercy with which he had been presented. Or, alternatively, perhaps he simply couldn't muster the strength to move so as to attack again. Either way, the result was the same: despite his preparation for the worst, he clearly wasn't going to be starting any more fights. He also wouldn't be doing much to defend himself, but, fortunately for him, Krikka wasn't interested in watching him struggle any further.

This environment was making the umbreon's usual pleasures wholly unappealing, torture included. While the croagunk had most certainly asked for all he'd received and more, she simply wasn't feeling up to the task of delivering. She had been satisfied enough already, and now that her agitation toward the unsophisticated swamp-frog was beginning to fade, so too was the desire to further harm him. She just wanted to do what she had come to this marsh for so that she could leave, and as fun as tormenting some hillbilly who'd decided to step to her would normally have been, she didn't want to waste any extra time soaking her fur in the disgusting, murky waters. Perhaps Rainfront's beach would have been a better destination for the purpose of gauging her new buizel's uses in an aquatic environment. She wasn't the biggest fan of beaches, but such a place sounded far superior to this marsh that insisted on assaulting her pristine figure. Not that she would admit it to anyone, but she was beginning to feel that for once, she had made the wrong decision. Perhaps Solus was contagious.

Speaking of whom, her buizel was actually doing something right for once, effectively searching the defensive frog without actually putting himself in harm's way, and even accomplishing the task in a timely manner. He admittedly had quite the ability to take things from others, and while this wasn't of any particular use in most combat scenarios, it certainly had its uses elsewhere. Sadly, in this particular situation, it didn't seem to yield much, as was confirmed when Solus finally said as much. Nothing more than a joy ribbon, which, while being relatively useful to most, wasn't of any particular worth to Krikka. She could no longer garner any benefit from such a trinket even if she wanted to, having been afflicted with some mysterious sparkles in the Snowcloak Ruins. She still wasn't entirely sure what had happened, but it seemed better than a joy ribbon either way. Thus far, she was learning and improving at a noticeably accelerated pace, and with no apparent downsides. Plus, she didn't have to wear some girly pink ribbon, unlike the two individuals in front of her. "As tempting as that sounds, I don't think I wanna look like a pretty little girl. You've got that covered already, friend," she responded, mocking the buizel's fashion choices.

Of course, she knew - or at least hoped - he wasn't wearing the ribbon for any stylistic reasons, but that wasn't going to stop her from making fun of him for it. Besides, with his recent failures, it was a mercy that she had yet to do anything more... cruel. For instance: calling him a friend again when he had already expressed confusion and discomfort toward the sentiment. She would obviously never do such a thing. She took a step forward to test her body, and after a moment's pause without being met with another wave of weariness, she decided to finally give the croagunk a proper greeting. After all, he had earned as much with the sheer determination he had presented. Besides, there were a few things the umbreon was curious about, and she harbored disdain for questions unanswered. One paw at a time, she slowly approached the croagunk, making her way through the shallow waters. She kept her gaze trained on him but said nothing, wishing to speak only when she was face-to-face with him. She still wanted him to know just how unafraid she was, even after she had clearly won the battle.

A mere few feet away from her tattered opposition, Krikka finally stopped, taking a moment to look him over as she mulled over what to say. There were many things she wanted to question, some of which involved taunting him, but after a moment of thought, she managed to decide on a good place to start. "So, I'm curious... Why fight when you know you're gonna lose?" she asked, blunt and straightforward as usual. While she knew this question would likely bother the croagunk, she had genuine reason for asking. She was curious as to what form of stupidity drove this particular fool to such suicidal actions; further humiliating him was just a bonus. She was very intrigued by his blind determination and prideful arrogance, and while she felt capable of guessing the gist of his motivations, she still wanted to hear it from him. She wondered if he would even cooperate, but there was really only one way to find out. If he didn't, well... normally, she would have gladly resorted to torturing the answer out of him, but in this particular situation, she wasn't so sure.

Having her curiosity pitted against her newfound hatred for the Cattail Marsh, she wasn't sure which would reign victorious. Either way, she was bound to be left at least moderately unsatisfied on some front if it came to such things, so she hoped the toxic little critter would just cooperate. His gratitude for having his life spared should have been more than enough motivation to play nice, after all. Krikka very much wanted to evacuate the area now that she had learned just how unappealing it was, so she really didn't want to have to stand around interrogating someone into sating her own curiosity. That said, she would still probably do it, but for once, she preferred the easy way. Regardless, she wouldn't be leaving immediately since she had more than just the one question, but that was all the more reason to hurry this meeting along.

The buizel was unaffected by Krikka's jeer geared towards insulting his masculinity. That particular part of a person's perspective of him was not a concern of his. What people thought about his ability, intellect, and things similar to those—that's what was important to him. What bothered him here was her very explicit use of the word "friend" just because he had asked her not to. Of course, she would do that—this was Krikka. But the implication of the word bothered him. He would rather a given outsider know he was a subordinate to her rather than a companion to her. He didn't want people thinking he was actually friends with a sociopathic criminal.

Because I let my pride outweigh my self-preservation, Solus thought as if the question was directed at him rather than the Pokemon she had just defeated. Didn't let that happen this time. Took a big hit to my pride to avoid the risks that an unknown and seemingly wild opponent presented. In retrospect, I'm not sure it was the best idea, but the decision has already been made. In this hypothetical scenario in which Krikka had asked Solus what she was currently asking Goro, there was another possible answer—one that might hold very true but that Solus would deny at every opportunity. He had walked into Grima Knowing that he was probably going to be at a disadvantage. It quickly escalated, and by the time they had touched the ground at the bottom of Venen Gulch, the odds of winning were so stacked in Krikka's favour that, short of divine intervention, Solus was guaranteed to lose. Even before getting himself handicapped he barely stood a chance. He was offered a chance to walk away and even then he knew the odds were not in his favour. And yet, he pressed on. Never took offered exits, never sought for a way out.

Perhaps because he didn't want out. Maybe he actually wanted to lose, to some extent. Sure, essentially giving up your free will had some significant drawbacks and inconveniences, but it wasn't without some benefits. Protection was one. Solus was under no delusion that he'd avoid all harm, however, Krikka had protected him from life-threatening events, even before she technically claimed him as her property. A benefit specific to serving Krikka was excitement. Before meeting her, Solus had been bored, seeking out interesting things to do, venturing into mystery dungeons near his home alone—by chance running into Pokemon who he could ally with for the exploration. But now he was going places he doubted he'd get around to alone. Venen was Hell, but he couldn't say it wasn't exciting. The Marsh was at the very least interesting. And, eventually, he was sure Krikka would drag him into some morally grey or black activities. Something he would tell himself he wasn't okay with; she would order him to do something that a good guy isn't supposed to do, but he'd have to do it as it would be an order.

That was another benefit; no responsibility. If he did something morally black—something wrong or evil—under Krikka's orders, he couldn't be held responsible for his actions. He was a slave after all. He had to follow orders or risk some kind of punishment, possibly life threatening. He had the right to protect himself, and that meant he was right to follow commands given. And if those commands meant hurting someone else, he was justified. Or if he wasn't, he still wasn't responsible; Krikka was. This was the defence Solus had subconsciously prepared for when he'd inevitably do wrong. Not that he wanted to.

Or rather, not that he'd admit that he wanted to.

((Solus is the prettiest thank you very much.))

((Not dead! Just busy. Apologies for the wait, badgers and gentlemen))

Still shaky on his feet, Goro lifted his gaze from the ground at the sound of Krikka's voice. His lip curled in frustration and shame when he realized she was just responding to the Buizel in front of her. Even now, after their battle, she deigned not to acknowledge her beaten foe, instead bantering on with her lackey like nothing had happened in the first place. A wave of frustration and anger washed throughout him, furious at her for treating him this way, but also furious at himself for getting his ass handed to him in the first place. This was the first fight he'd ever lost - and to who? Some upstart darkling with an ego matched only by her absurd strength? The fox was stupidly powerful, of course, and there shouldn't be any shame in losing to someone with so much raw power but the notion of losing to her still hurt. The notion of losing at all cut deep.

He ignored the byplay between them, instead lowering his gaze once more, his fatigue catching up to him at this point. His joy ribbon lay limply in his hand, his weak grasp on the cloth tremulous at best. His limbs were still trembling faintly, his midriff aching strongly, head throbbing after some kind of impact with... something. The details were suddenly a bit foggy, but it was likely from the impact he made with the ground after that last dark shockwave. A fresh wave of shame crept up his neck as he realized he'd been felled with nothing but a pair of Dark-type attacks and some strange light show. It didn't take a genius to realize that the bright rays were likely some kind of move - that's how most darklings did their fighting in the first place. Tricks and games to throw off their opponents, along with delibating poisons and paralysis techniques. The light-show had been unlike anything he'd ever experienced, but it was something in the same vein - even now, he remembered the strong sense of confusion just as he closed the distance between him and his enemy.

That had been the deciding moment of their battle, he realized; if he had been able to keep his wits about him in that instance, then perhaps he could have struck her at that point. Turned the tides in his favor, and launch his offensive from there, rather than... well. Losing. Rather than being defeated so handily. In the end, he was only barely able to get close to her, let alone hurting her. For all his bluster and confidence, it really had been that decisive. Hesitantly, he lifted his head again, taking in the strange fox Pokémon once again. Even now, as she spoke to her Buizel, she exuded nothing but pompousness and disdain. But considering the power she lauded... well. After experiencing it firsthand, perhaps she wore her arrogance well. He certainly couldn't say anything, now; she'd beaten him. In his own territory, no less. He heaved a sad sigh at the thought, clenching the ribbon in his hand tightly in a sudden show of frustration. How pathetic.

His eyes tracked the vixen carefully as she took a careful step forward. It was actually the first time she'd moved since he seen her move, he noted ruefully. Slowly, the Pokémon padded slowly over to him, her movements not hurried or intimidated in the least. Even now, she seemed totally indifferent and unaffected by his presence. Rightfully so, at this point, but it still rankled him somewhat. She stopped a few paces away from him, out of his reach, but it wasn't like that mattered. She'd just demonstrated that she had tools to deal with him at any distance - even if he bum-rushed her up close, she could blast him away in an instant. Perhaps it was just her being... polite. As strange as that sounded.

"I didn't," The sudden snap at her query shocked him as much as it might them; he didn't even think of a response before those words came out of him. Truthfully, he never had considered the possibility of losing to them. He was angry and itching for a scrap, and they were conveniently there. Beating them was just... it was what he did. The fact that they killed one of his Poliwhirl was incentive enough if that didn't suffice. They were rare around these parts, and he enjoyed fighting them. He heaved another heavy sigh, before plopping down on his ass in the shallow waters, paying no heed to the filth or splash he caused. "I didn't think I was gonna lose, I mean. Never have before."

He rested his chin on one hand, propping it up against his knee as he regarded the Umbreon in front of him. He eyes her warily, unsure of what she wanted with him, at this point. Why not drive a spike in his chest, like she did with the Poliwhirl? "But it's what I do nowadays, I 'spose. This here's my stretch of the swamp; I spend my days fightin' whatever Pokémon I can find. Didn't expect to run into a monster like you, though."

The umbreon wished to know where her foe's stubbornness came from, but more importantly, she wanted to flaunt that this determination had been ill-placed and succeeded in nothing more than laying him out on the ground in pain. In idle chatter, she was demonstrating her superiority; she had total control over the situation, including whether they talked, and if so, what about. Fortunately, she was good at talking, especially about herself, so holding a conversation wasn't too difficult even if it was with someone she wasn't a big fan of. It helped that she had some level of interest in this little man and what drove him to seemingly attack everything in his sight. He clearly had enough of a brain to communicate, so why was he going around assaulting everyone he came across? This seemed to be what he was doing, at least from the umbreon's perspective; he had attacked a poliwhirl and helped them for no apparent reason, then turned around and attacked them for no apparent reason. The only way that lined up with any level of sophistication was if he was fighting for fun.

His answer seemed to imply as much, though it also confirmed that pride wasn't the primary factor in his stubbornness. Rather, he was overconfident, having believed himself capable of winning such a fight despite being outnumbered and barely able to handle the weak buizel. At this point, Krikka decided he was just an idiot with an ego, which admittedly made him less interesting. However, he was strong, or at least, stronger than Solus. He had no ranged attacks, but he could clearly hit hard, assuming he was afforded the opportunity to do so. Had he had proper compensation for his deficits, he likely would have looked far more impressive than he currently did. After all, despite his innate type-advantage, being against a ranged foe with no decent way to match their range put him at an obvious disadvantage. Had he managed to hit her, she still wasn't too worried, as she was about as well-off in close combat as she was at a distance. She didn't think herself to be a particularly strong fighter in the first place, but apparently, she was stronger than she'd thought. It was... peculiar, to say the least.

The croagunk's response also included what may have been intended as an insult, but Krikka wasn't offended. She chose the bit about being a "monster" to address first, but not because of any disdain toward the label. If anything, she liked being called a monster, as they were feared. "You flatter me," she remarked, showing that the comment didn't offend her. Being a monster was pretty much her goal in life, after all, so it was nice to hear she was making progress toward that. In fact, it was virtually all her life entailed... not that she minded. She had tried living the "right" way and being "good," and in the end, it had gotten her nowhere. She would live to please herself and no one else, and she would follow this path to the end. If that made her a monster, then a monster she would be, and she would wear this label with pride. However, she assumed in this case, the comment was more in reference to her strength, since the croagunk was in no place to judge someone else for not being on the morally righteous side of things.

Amid her idle thoughts, the umbreon suddenly had an idea, and one that had yet to occur to her despite how obvious it should have been. She had only recruited Solus due to her own personal interest in him, but with what her goals were, she would need help. She was confident in herself, but not to such an extent that she would think herself capable of rising up in the world without any tools at her disposal. She wasn't fond of playing nice with others, as she had made painfully clear to her new subordinate... with an emphasis on "painfully." Alas, she would need more than just the one buizel if she wanted to maximize her chances of success. This croagunk seemed a bit dull, mentally speaking, and it was becoming increasingly apparent that he was just violent by nature. He was being awfully cooperative as well, now that he had been beaten. He was beginning to seem like a perfect pawn. "So, you like fighting, which I assume is why you attacked us. Why lock yourself up in this awful place if you just wanna hit things?" she spoke in search of clarity, though it was already obvious that he liked fighting even if there was some ulterior motive for his attempted assault on the pair.

Solus wasn't much of a fighter, which meant someone with such a skillset would be an asset in Krikka's goals. An easily manipulated fighter was the ideal specimen, as it meant she could easily manipulate them and prevent them from trying to rebel. Solus willingly allowed himself to be manipulated, and even if he were to suddenly decide to stop being so cooperative, he wasn't much of a danger. A genuine fighter, on the other hand, would become a potential problem if they decided to turn on her, which meant someone easy to puppeteer would be best. She still wanted to finish the psychological evaluation this conversation was turning into, but she was now open to the idea of recruiting others into her cause. She wasn't sure if she wanted this barbaric oaf in specific, but regardless, she was beginning to realize that she would need to start making an effort to make... friends. Perhaps Solus' point of not killing everyone held some merit after all. Not that she would ever tell him he'd made a good suggestion.

The thought of actively trying to coerce others into joining her was the opposite of appealing. She enjoyed manipulation, but not if it meant having to play nice with someone else for long periods of time. If it meant her own success in the long run, however, she would gladly play whatever role she deemed necessary. Seeing to her own success was her first and only priority, and if she had to stand on others to accomplish such a task, then so be it.

Solus rolled his eyes upon hearing the answer provided by Krikka's intended target. Overconfident idiot... Was that hypocritical? After a moment of consideration, the buizel decided that it was not. After all, it was never his confidence that got him into real trouble. No, that was pure pride. A need to make it very clear that he upheld his honour—even if it was detrimental—and until today that he would not back down from a challenge. His experience in Venen had shattered that foolhardy trait. Krikka's game had nearly killed him—both of them—on several occasions throughout. Perhaps he had backed out of his fight with the croagunk earlier than necessary, perhaps a tad over cautious in response to the several near-death experiences from days ago. He had lost a chance at getting the necklace in backing down, too. Still, he figured it was the best option. His pride was hurt, but he had no regrets.

"Pff." The noise was almost involuntary at the sound of the croagunk calling Krikka a "monster." He could only assume that it was intended to be insulting. The frog couldn't have known that he was inadvertently complimenting the egotistical sadist. Solus was on the fence about doing so himself. On one hand, he was pretty sure flattery might actually get him somewhere. The issue was, he wasn't sure it would get him very far. Not to mention the potential unknown dangers that may come with further inflating the sociopath's ego. Regardless, he didn't think he was desperate enough to start rambling out compliments yet. Although, he was quickly racking up a bit of bad credit with her, what with the couple of failures and bad word choices... Judging just where he stood in Krikka's eyes wasn't easy. Maybe I should start thinking up some compliments. Just in case.

He didn't get to think of any, though. He was suddenly struck with a realisation as he heard Krikka speak. That question... Solus knew that wasn't just curiosity. The umbreon was clever, conniving, manipulative; she was planning on doing something with the defeated croagunk. "... Oh, you have got to be kidding me," the buizel whispered under his breath, on realising he had spoken rather than thought the statement. If I hadn't just spoken that I might have actually felt smart for figuring that out. He turned towards Krikka to see if she had heard what he'd accidentally voiced and, if she returned the look, try and persuade her with a look not to invite the Pokemon who he had just thoroughly ticked off to join them. Not that he thought she'd consider his opinion on the matter anyway.

((It's short but I haven't done this in a bit and also I don't know how to fluff I guess idk *shrugs*))

((Ayy I ain't got nothin' against short, bb))

Goro sat defeated in the shallow waters, gazing up at the Pokémon that had defeated him with a sense of resignation and grudging respect. Even now, after he'd caught his breath, his limbs felt heavy and hollow, his head weakly throbbing and his limbs aching from the beating he'd taken. It was only two strikes, but they were probably the hardest hits he'd ever taken -- if not, they were up there. Even with the type-advantage he had over his opponent. He clutched the Joy Ribbon in his left hand weakly, his forearms resting on his knees while he sat in front of the vixen staring down at him.

Even now, after his defeat, the clear difference in their strength was visible just from how they were communicating. Him, sulking defeated on the ground, and her, speaking down to him from a position of power. The thought rankled him more than he expected, a surge of desperate fury rising up at the prospect of defeat, but it was all over and done with at this point. If he pushed his luck, there was still the possibility of being murdered, like the other Pokémon that bothered her this evening. He tensed his jaw while she spoke to him, taking his remark about her monstrous strength in stride. Even if the defiance and fight had been beaten out of him, it still stung, having to acknowledge her superiority.

A moment of silence passed between the two Pokémon, Goro stewing in his first loss and the vixen in front of him staring him down quizzically - as if he was a piece of a puzzle she'd been trying to put together. Her lackey had mentioned wanting him alive, now that he had a moment to recall, but he had no idea what use he could serve to the pair of travelers. He knew next to nothing about them, after all, aside from their general levels of strength. He stilled paused, waiting with bated breath while the moment passed. Was she going to change her mind? Was this the moment of truth, where she decided to reach back into her bag and plunge that pretty little spike into his chest like she had the Poliwhirl? Despite his still trembling limbs and tremulous breath, he knew he'd fight back if it came to that. He had absolutely nothing to lose, after all - and what better reason to fight if not for his life?

Instead, the dark fox seemed to have figured him out, making a passing comment on his apparent fondness for fighting and inquired as to why he lived in the Marsh, of all places. His eyes widened minutely as she spoke, surprised that she still wanted anything to do with him. He was certain she'd wash her paws clean of the Croagunk that had ambushed her and her companion, one way or another, but instead asking about him again... This was more than a little bit surreal. Who followed up a desperate battle with small-talk?

Then again, it wasn't exactly a desperate struggle for her, was it? His frown took on a bitter twinge as he paused, taking a moment to formulate a response. What to say, what to say... The answer was more than a little bit complicated, honestly, taking into account his status of not-quite-but-possibly-an-outlaw coupled with his general preference for solitude and isolation, but that wasn't something he wanted to divulge to strangers. Certainly not strangers who'd beaten him at his own game. "Yer not... no- yeah, I like a good scrap. I get an itch for it, sometimes, and I was plenty mad when I ran into the two of ya fightin' those tadpoles.

"Just the Poli wasn't enough, o' course, and I usually run off any travelers I come across. I like my privacy. The ol' Marsh ain't so bad, in that aspect," He chanced a glance at the darkling staring him down once more, before returning his gaze to the ribbon clutched in his right hand. He brought it to his other fist, absently toying with the tattered cloth with both hands in the sudden silence. The Croagunk didn't have a clue why this vixen was still interested in him, and just answering her questions felt like he was treading through a track of broken glass. Say something wrong, her gaze seemed to say, and you'll regret it. He resolved to keep his answers short and compact, and not offer anything more than she asked for. Even if her voice was soft and her posture was indifferent, he had a sneaking suspicion that he wasn't exactly free to get up and walk away. "The view at night ain't so bad, either."

Between words in her riveting exchange with the subdued opponent, Krikka's ears still stayed attuned enough to her environment to overhear the distinct sounds of a complaint from her buizel. She glanced in his direction for only a moment, but it was enough to see him looking back at her, seemingly already having figured out what was going on. Krikka knew he truly wasn't stupid, no matter how incompetent and useless he was, but his rapidly growing understanding of her was still impressive. Alas, no amount of complaint was going to pull her away from her own decisions, even coming from her loyal minion. She gave no response to his clear disapproval, instead simply turning her attention back to what interested her at the moment. She still wasn't done with her interrogation, but she was beginning to see a use for this swamp-frog. He clearly wasn't the most sophisticated 'mon, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, or at the very least, it had its merits.

As she listened the umbreon went over the information in her mind, analyzing it so as to decide what to do with it. She knew the croagunk enjoyed fighting, but his confirmation of this fact still had uses. First, while she was confident in her own ability to read a situation, she wasn't too vain to acknowledge her own capacity for being wrong, so the reassurance was appreciated. Second, it told her this little scrapper was willing to admit and own his violent tendencies, unlike a certain buizel. Third, having him admit she was right fueled her ego; this wasn't useful so much as just pleasant, but it was still noteworthy, at least to her. She was petty and shallow enough to care about her own ego just as much as practical, useful information. That said, the information garnered from this one action on her opposition's part still had plenty of use to it, and it brought her that much closer to fully understanding him. She wondered if, perhaps, he was deeper than he seemed, and as he continued to speak, it became clear that...

...He was not.

All the croagunk seemed to care about was fighting, and while he seemed to have multiple potential reasons for attacking others, it all boiled down to excuses to get into a fight. Whether he just wanted to hit something or genuinely wished to protect his turf, in the end, he was just aggressive by nature. Still, he wasn't too stupid to understand when he was beaten, as shown by his submission to someone he had harbored ill will against mere moments prior. Based on the fact that he had engaged the battle expecting to win, it was clear he had an ego, but considering he was now admitting defeat and ceasing all hostility, this ego did not blind him. This meant he probably couldn't be motivated through the same means as Solus, but at the same time, it also meant there was less chance of him rebelling against a leader. Hypothetically. He also didn't seem to harbor much spite against the umbreon, despite having been defeated in a demeaning display.

Krikka was not particularly fond of him as of yet, but based on the few words they had exchanged, she felt capable of tolerating him. He wasn't particularly strong, but he wasn't weak either, which meant he had his uses as muscle if nothing else. The only thing keeping him in the marsh seemed to be a lack of any real direction in his life, as shown by the only nice thing he had to say about the place being that it had a nice view at night. It may have been an off-chance, but the vixen had already decided on what to do with this information. "I am Krikka. My buizel you were so kind as to punch in the face for no reason is Solus," she started up, seemingly neglecting to acknowledge anything the croagunk had just said. She flicked her head over to the buizel as she spoke his name, looking in his direction for a moment in an effort to put some attention on him and make it absolutely clear that he was with her. At the same time, she shot a slight smirk his way, a gesture she figured he would understand since he seemed to know what was about to happen.

She then turned back to the croagunk, her motions showing an almost rehearsed confidence and elegance. She was new to this whole "recruitment" thing, but she didn't carry herself as someone nervous or inexperienced. She was calm, casual and, most importantly, confident in herself and her judgment. She didn't care if Solus felt differently, as long as he stuck to their agreement and remained by her side. "I'm... a visionary of sorts. I see great things in my future, and I intend to make them a reality... both for myself and anyone who decides they're interested in helping," she turned to the right and began pacing in a circle around the croagunk as she spoke, looking him over in the same manner one would look at a new piece of furniture they had just purchased. To her, this was a similar situation, as she had already decided this specimen was hers... just like Solus. After all, she had quite the offer, and if he wasn't too sour over his defeat, he had no real reason to turn it down.

Passing behind the purple creature and coming around his right side, the umbreon suddenly stopped and spoke once more: "Come with me. I dunno if you're interested grandeur, but you like fighting, and I can guarantee there'll be plenty of that along the way. Besides," she paused, her blue rings taking on a faint glow from the anticipation. She then leaned in toward his face, testing her boundaries as she gave a deceptively welcoming grin that practically screamed "fun-loving and cheerful." Being mere inches away from this stranger didn't bother her, as she was quite confident that he was done fighting and wouldn't be attacking her. Besides, considering what she was about to offer, showing a certain degree of trust that he wouldn't try to sucker punch her only seemed fair. Whether he would take the gesture as friendly and trusting or simply invasive of his personal space, she didn't know... but it was intended to be both. She felt she had already made a fine proposition, but for fun, she decided to remark on the one valid reason the croagunk would have to consider staying in the marsh: the nightly spectacle.

"What's a little light show compared to my dazzle?"

She let these final words hang in the air, unflinching in her close proximity to the croagunk, her gaze locked on him. She didn't intend to step away until he gave his answer, and she expected it to be a resounding "yes." After all, with her superior light, what merit did staying in the marsh have?

Krikka did hear his complaint. She did see, and almost certainly understood, his pleading look. And, as expected, she ignored him. Cool. Great. Awesome. Let's take the violent, unpredictable, dimwitted croagunk that attacked me on sight with us to... Wherever Krikka plans on going to do whatever she plans on doing. Something illegal, I'm sure. Solus wasn't happy about the idea of recruiting the guy at all. He had insulted the guy, fought him with tactics that he clearly found either annoying or unfair or both. Baring his initial greeting and telling Krikka not to kill him, all of Solus's interactions with the croagunk were explicit to harm and annoy him, and he seemed like the type to hold a grudge. Krikka was crafty and Solus had no doubt that she'd get her new recruit, and so he was already thinking ahead, seeing what cards he had at his disposal to keep the violent fighter from stabbing him in the back when Krikka wasn't looking. I could always remind him that I told Krikka not to kill him. He doesn't have to know that she might not have done so anyway.

Solus crossed his arms as Krikka introduced herself and then him. Her introduction for him, he did not fail to notice, made it clear that he wasn't here on his own volition. The choice of words was very intentional as it served two purposes. It reminded him where he stood in the hierarchy, and it reminded the guy on the ground just how powerful the Pokemon in front of him was. Solus thought he was getting pretty good at breaking down Krikka's words into what they really were—tools. He glanced at the umbreon as she had said his name and noticed her little smirk. Wait, is she doing this just to spite me? Is upsetting me one of her major reasons for recruiting this guy? That's just—Yeah, actually that would make sense. That's krikka.

The buizel kept a running commentary on the umbreon's little recruitment speech, putting in a little more effort to the thoughts than were normal to make sure he didn't slip up and say any random comment meant to stay a private out loud instead. Great things for you? Yeah, probably. For those who follow you? Yeah, I've been with you for a week and even I'm not convinced on that one. Solus followed the circling Dark-type with his eyes. He assumed the act was both to get a closer examination of her target, to show she wasn't afraid of him, and maybe even to intimidate a bit. Personally, Solus wouldn't get so close, but he knew Krikka didn't have to be worried about getting attacked. He had noticed the croagunk avoiding direct eye contact with Krikka as they conversed. Solus had backed out of the fight and was probably marked as a coward for doing so. Even so, when he had first encountered and lost to Krikka he still maintained direct eye-contact with her. It was a means of demonstrating a lack of fear. Admittedly, he probably wouldn't be able to maintain eye contact with the vixen's gaze now, but he had been through something like a week of being with her; belittling him, with the occasional tail slap, he had an excuse to be too timid to meet that gaze of hers. All Goro had done was lose a fight. Yeah, if this whole thing is only ceremony. She's giving him the privilege of saying yes to a question with only one answer.

He continued his internal commentary as Krikka continued her false proposal. I doubt he knows what "grandeur" means. Yes, there you go, tell him there's fighting, that'll persuade the barbarian. At the sound of the word "what's" Solus could tell she was winding up the pitch. He wasn't sure what exactly to expect for a finishing question, but what he heard actually surprised him. Not in a way that impressed him, but in a way that made him question if his leader was the clever wordsmith he thought she was. "Your dazzle?" Realising he had just repeated his mistake once again, he mumbled "Wait that was out loud again wasn't it..." Maybe I should just ask Krikka if she'd kindly knock me out, I feel like that'd be better for everyone including myself.

Goro kept his gaze stubbornly locked on the ribbon clutched in his hand, defeated and sulking, his stomach tying itself into a knot in the tense silence after he finished speaking. The feeling of being at someone else's mercy like this was a first for him, and he hated the feeling. If only he'd kept his wits about him, and socked the darkling when he had the chance, instead of falling for her little light trick. He couldn't fathom why she was interrogating him; he possessed nothing of importance, and all he had done was try and fight her and her subordinate. Try being the key word, in that instance. The Buizel he couldn't even do a proper job of, and she'd dismantled him without a second thought. What use could he possibly have to her? What was her angle?

As she began speaking, finally introducing herself and her lackey, his head rose to take her in once more, his eyes trying to find hers. Krikka. He blinked slowly, his eyes squinting and his mouth forming an intense frown, trying to commit the name to memory. The Pokémon that defeated him was named Krikka. She'd turned away from him almost nonchalantly, taking a moment to smirk triumphantly at her Buizel - Solus, he noted - and something that went unsaid passed between the two of them. He tracked her gaze questioningly, glancing once more at the suddenly annoyed Sea Weasel Pokémon, wondering if this was the moment where she decided she didn't take orders from her Buizel and finished him off anyway. Except, she was still relaxed and daintily poised, her posture and demeanor practically radiating indifference and superiority.

The vixen swiveled her head back to him, her eerie yellow eyes suddenly meeting his with what seemed like a frightening intensity, confidence and smugness practically oozing from the fox in front of him, and he remembered the stupid amount of power she lauded. It made her attention feel all the more scrutinous - he knew, immediately, that he didn't like the way her eyes roved over him like - like a piece of butcher's meat, to be taken and stored and consumed. She spoke clearly and eloquently, talking down to him and explaining herself and her... motives. As frustrated and furious as he was with her, for storming into his territory and murdering one of his playthings, for taking his fight with the weasel from him and humiliating him, her words were lilting in a manner that - that seemed to be suggesting...

He couldn't finish the thought, opting instead to track the dusky fox as she slowly paced to his left, looking down on him in that condescending and superior way of hers, making him suddenly aware of every weakness and insecurity that he'd ever felt. She disappeared from his peripheral, presumably skulking around behind him, circling the Croagunk in a manner not unlike a predator toying with its prey in their final hours. Not unlike how he would play with an opponent at the end of a fight, poking and prodding and beating a defeated opponent, eliciting delicious, painful reactions that felt completely validating. The realization that the moment of truth was here dawned on him abruptly, the Croagunk realizing that whatever she wanted with him was going to become apparent with her next words; either she would kill him for attacking them, punish him, or... spare him. His lip curled at the thought, that same tired, frustrated anger swelling through him while he observed the vixen coming around his right side, still looking down on him.

Shock permeated through him with her next words. Of all the things she could do with him, he had never expected... that. Come with me. His eyes widened at the gall of this Pokémon, striking him into a dumbfounded silence, looking up at the Umbreon with a visible sense of stupefaction. So shocked was he, that the Croagunk completely failed to notice the Pokémon abruptly leaning her face down mere inches from him, a playful, almost cheerful glint to her eye as she grinned at him, the blue rings adorning her ears and limbs glowing brightly. Even now, she doesn't see me as a threat. Even when she's right in my face.

Goro could be called slow. There were many things in life that he didn't -- couldn't understand. But he was smart enough to realize that the choice in front of him was hardly a choice at all. She'd murdered the Poliwhirl in his territory without batting an eye; if he refused her, who's to say that he wouldn't go the same way? It was obvious by their interactions that the Buizel didn't exactly call the shots around here, so even if the weasel had pleaded for his life... this Pokémon could kill him out of spite. He had nowhere to run; she was right in his face, and she'd since established that no matter the range, he couldn't even touch her. There was no escape route. The only place that he might be able to get away from her in was, well, the water -- but even if the Buizel didn't track him down and drown him, something else might. If he refused, he could die.

Or he could agree. Follow her. Do whatever it is that she wanted from him. She was strong, he knew that from first-hand experience. If he went with her, did as she bid, fought whatever battles she needed him to fight... Well. It wasn't entirely unappealing. As overbearing and smug and condescending as the vixen was, she was obviously going places; she was powerful and ruthless, and she seemed smart enough. There would be a difference, in fighting for her. He'd serve a clear purpose -- he might not turn out as some second-class thug, drifting from seedy town to seedy town, taking shit jobs for shit people, surviving but not thriving. He could be better than his parents. Fight with a purpose, under a leader who was worth fighting for, who'd provide for him as he served her. It'd be a sight better than fighting wild Pokémon day in and day out in the Marsh, in any case.

What he liked most about fighting was hurting his enemy. Striking his foes and crushing them under his fists, the way that physical tension surged through his fist and down his arm and spread to the tips of his toes, that feeling of taking something or someone innocent and picturesque and just... breaking it. Being stronger than his enemy, and proving it, as clearly and painfully as possible. Communicating to them in a simple and malicious way that they were less than he was. The thrill of the fight was another reason, of course, growing stronger and proving that strength against another fighter with the same mindset... but at the end of the day, he liked hurting people.

He remembered the sight that greeted him when he'd defeated that Poliwhirl that'd snuck up on the Buizel. It's dead body sinking in the water, a pool of deep red spreading through the waters, the Umbreon killing her foe for challenging her. He could curse and puff up and bluster all he liked, but... was his way any better? At least she moved with a purpose, while he wasted away in a fucking Mystery Dungeon. He was different from her, in that aspect. But perhaps he didn't have to be. If that's what it takes to get ahead. If that's what I gotta do to get somewhere... I'd do it. If he denied that, he'd be lying to himself. He didn't have to be smart to realize that - he just had to be honest with himself. The realization was still unnerving, either way. With a thoughtful exhale, Goro dropped his gaze from the vixen's alluring, eerie yellow eyes, staring uncomprehendingly at the Joy Ribbon in his lap, still clutched weakly with both hands.

He didn't know much about them, but from what he'd seen.... he'd fit in. Sitting on his ass in the shallow waters of Cattail Marsh, an Umbreon leaning down in his face and waiting for the only answer he could give, Goro decided. He'd play ball. In a twisted, fucked up sort of way, you could even say he'd been waiting for something like this. Someone like her.

How did the old saying go, again? If you can't beat 'em...  

"Alright," Resolutely, the Croagunk tore his gaze from his lap to stare up at the dark fox. Come with me, she had said. "Where are we going?"

For a fleeting moment, the croagunk had met the yellow eyes looking down on him with his own gaze, but this fleeting moment ended almost as quickly as it began. It was obvious, at least to Krikka, that he was intentionally avoiding eye contact for the most part. It didn't take an expert in psychology to know that this was a sign of submission, perhaps even fear. She wasn't sure if the latter was the case, but at the very least, it was clear that her opponent had submitted to her. He knew the battle was over, as if that wasn't obvious already, and the opposition was obviously willing to cooperate now that he had been taught a lesson in humility. Still, despite this, she did not expect her proposal to be immediately accepted. She wasn't particularly interested in taking no for an answer, being prepared to do whatever was necessary to... persuade the scrapper to join her. Someone who enjoyed fighting so much would surely want to be stronger, so insistence that he would get that with her seemed like a convincing point to make. She was even prepared to give a demonstration if necessary, perhaps on some random native, or maybe on the croagunk himself, as if she hadn't already beaten him enough.

To her surprise, however, the croagunk agreed immediately, and without any clear resistance. It seemed like he had thought deeply on the dilemma, and despite thinking clearly not being his strong suit, he had come to the correct decision. From the umbreon's perspective, it was pretty much the only choice, but she had expected it to take longer for a creature of lesser mental capacity to realize this. Needless to say, she was surprised, and pleasantly so. The croagunk continued to surprise her by taking the initiative to ask where they would be going, effectively inquiring about his first task without being too direct about it. Perhaps he was trying to be sly and get some hint as to what he would be doing, but Krikka didn't intend to give out such information regardless. As she had done with Solus, she intended to make him take a leap of faith with her, and she intended to make their first outing together unpleasant, at least for one of them. She had just the place in mind, and she was confident that it would work out better for her than the last test, which had ended in Solus nearly dying.

Just Solus. Not herself, obviously. She was far too skilled to have any brushes with death. She had handled herself supremely and had not made a poor decision. Her judgment was perfect in all situations, with no exceptions.

Most definitely.

That said, she was quite confident that her next outing would be more pleasant than the last two. This time, she would go somewhere she had prior experience with, and somewhere she had an inherent advantage in. Neither Solus nor the frog, whatever his name was, would have a very fun time there, but it would be fine so long as she could control the situation. She would have to get his name at some point since he had neglected to give it despite the fact that she had introduced herself and her associate to him. It was very rude, but she didn't care too much about rudeness... under the condition that it was worth putting up with. She figured she would see in time if this croagunk was worth whatever hassle he happened to bring along with him, but for the time being, he filled a role if nothing else. He was a brawler by nature, and one specializing in close-ranged assault. Krikka knew she was better at a distance, ideally not even fighting and instead simply focusing on leading if it could be afforded, and the extent of Solus' hand-to-hand combat was a very poor excuse for a tackle. Someone who could handle fighting properly even if an opponent managed to get up close would surely be useful in the immediate future if not in the long run.

Despite already having made the decision not to tell her new recruit what, in specific, he would be doing, she still figured it was appropriate to at least give him something. In fact, Solus didn't know what her plan for the near future was either, despite her having had a certain desire for a while, before even meeting him. She leaned back from the croagunk, her grin fading into a more subtle, content smile, the deceptively cheery demeanor still emanating from her. "We're gonna go summon an evil god or something. Probably," she spoke in a very casual and matter-of-fact manner, straight to the point. Her words contradicted her attitude, holding a very clear and ominous meaning, and while it may have seemed like a joke or blatant lie aimed simply to scare, it could not have been further from either. The Ruined Chateau, a place she had been to once before, was supposedly the home to something the great god of destruction, Giratina, aimed to acquire.

While she was far from religious nature, specifically avoiding such hobbies due to a hatred instilled by her immediate family, she was in support of Giratina's endeavor. She didn't actually worship the creature, nor did she care of its motivations; in fact, she didn't even care much what it planned to do to the world so long as it left something for her to dominate. All she cared about was spiting her sister, who was an avid follower of Arceus and, as she had heard, was the being's prophet. She hated that her childish, naive, stupid sister had been chosen for such a prestigious position, and yet she had not, even by the being that pretty much represented darkness and rebellion! What did Ivirar have that she did not? Regardless, she wanted to see her sister fail more than anything else, and so she intended to assist Giratina despite it having obviously picked the wrong prophet, whoever that was. "Now, Lumpy," she continued, intending to call the croagunk Lumpy until he gave his name, "We're leaving. I hate this pla-"

Suddenly, a small, blue orb struck her in the head, eliciting an uncharacteristically light, whiny and perhaps even adorable "Ooow." As she lowered her head and raised her left paw to cover the spot that had been assaulted, the orb fell into the water in front of her with a splash. She quickly realized how unflattering this behavior was and corrected it, her gaze suddenly jerking upward as her leg stomped into the murky water, rage boiling up inside her. "THE FUCK!?" she shouted as she searched for the culprit, and almost instantly, she found them: a volbeat hovering overhead, having thrown the item at her for no apparent reason. She glared up at the pest as her body flared up with the same dark aura from earlier. Before the bug could react, she loosed a pulse of energy up toward it, hitting it directly and knocking it out of the sky. It was no surprise that the creature had been dealt with in one hit; the species wasn't exactly known for being particularly formidable. She watched it drift down from above and fall into the water, speaking up in tune with the splash it made: "You see, Solus? This is why I kill things!"

She looked in the buizel's direction just to further emphasize that the question was directed at him and his prior request not to kill some random croagunk. Fur bristling down her spine, dark aura just beginning to die down, she suddenly turned to the left as she spotted movement in her peripheral vision. Upon recognizing the source as a poliwhirl similar to the ones that had attacked her earlier, the black emanation of her soul lit up once more, making it appear as if she was going to immediately lash out. It was staring at her as if there was some spectacle to be seen, and she didn't like it. "WHAT!?" she shouted, causing it to back away before turning tail and running off. She huffed in agitation, not realizing how unstable she had probably just made herself look to her two followers. She was still in a haze of anger, desire to hurt something or someone wracking her nerves and causing her body to shake with every breath.

Another thing she didn't realize was how unusual this behavior was, even for someone so black-hearted as herself. Not only had she completely missed the fact that she had just been handed a potentially useful item, but she was also being far more aggressive and thoughtless than what was normal for her. She was prone to aggressive outbursts, but she always made sure to keep herself controlled, never showing such immaturity and blind rage. She enjoyed making her emotional stability appear infallible even if, in reality, it could not have been further from the truth. She always made the extra effort not to have any unflattering outbursts, and yet, here she was, with such a small thing getting to her so very juvenile and inevitably worsening her allies' opinions of her. Her breathing was heavy and audible, teeth grit as she continued to glare into the distance, looking at nothing in particular.

She would inevitably blame this outburst on it simply being a bad day for her. After all, the marsh was certainly not the kind of environment she was thrilled to be in, and it was proving far less pleasant than she had expected it to be. Surely, a bit of emotion was understandable after such a thoroughly miserable outing.

Fortunately for Solus, neither of his companions seemed to take not of his accidental comment. The recruitment process proceeded, uninterrupted. And it didn't continue for very long. The croagunk—who's name, Solus realised, he had yet to give—accepted Krikka's unrefusable offer practically instantly. Solus's recruitment involved fighting Krikka, traveling to a crime town, and heading into a deadly dungeon with Krikka where they were both nearly killed. This croagunk just took two attacks and gave up. Two attacks. Solus didn't want to give him the benefit of the doubt and assume that Krikka had grown significantly stronger between then and now—because as far as he knew she hadn't done much in the way of training. Regardless of the details, what mattered to Solus was that this stranger who had attacked him on sight was now occompanying him and his superior on their journey to do whatever it was Krikka had planned. What she had planned the buizel did not know. Or he didn't until now. After his agreement the croagunk proceeded to ask where "we" were going, and Krikka granted him a response.

"We're gonna go summon an evil god or something. Probably." was not the answer Solus was expecting, and it was at this point that he became aware of another detail of his master; she had no idea what she was doing. Not only did she not know what she was doing, but she was—from what Solus could tell—succeding at it. She had managed to drag two Pokemon away from their lives and into her service to aid her in achieving her goals. One of those goals apparently being summoning a god. An evil god. Probably. Every day I find out that she's just a little more insane than I thought she was before. She wants to summon an "evil god" because of course she does. And I'm going to be helping her do it. Somehow. "Yeah. Sure. Why not?" Solus commented in a tone that might imply he almost expected the response. He began to approach the two—having stayed put when Krikka moved closer to invade her target's personal space—but stopped short when the moonlight Pokemon recoiled in reaction to something striking her. Her immediate reaction was indeed uncharacteristic. The follow up was much more in line to what Solus would expect. He flinched when she spoke his name and caught him with her glare—magnatudes more intimidating when she was angry.

When Krikka's attention was drawn off of him, Solus glared at the fallen volbeat. Thanks a lot, you stupid bug. Now I have to deal with the croagunk AND an angry Krikka. He had no idea if it was dead or simply unconscious. At the moment he was hoping the former. Alright, how to deal with this now... "Yeah, you're right," Solus started with a cautious voice. He looked at the croagunk, trying to meet his eyes. "Next time just ignore me and kill whatever you like." He proceeded to move toward his master, trying not to seem as hesitant as he was. It was a natural reaction to hesitate when anticipating harm, and that's all you could really do when approaching Krikka when she was very clearly agitated. Solus had sort of been expecting to get hit at some point anyhow, seeing as he couldn't keep his mouth shut. It would be unfortunate if Krikka decided to reprimand him at this moment when she was so enraged due to sources other than him, but if this wasn't her breaking point it would probably be better for everyone if she vented now rather than build up to some critical point later. He stood next to her, facing the same direction she did, not wanting to risk making eye contact again. "Are you okay?"

Fortunately, his enemy seemed to be almost immediately pacified with his answer. Goro had a sneaking suspicion that she'd really expected nothing less; she had, after all, handily defeated him, and something about the dead Poliwhirl lying in bloody waters made her proposition less of a choice and more of a command. And that was to say nothing of the almost eerily cheerful grin she had plastered on her face, her own muzzle mere inches away from his face. From what he'd seen, it was uncharacteristic of her; during his battle with the Tadpole and the Buizel and even her, she'd been composed and reserved, indifferent to the goings-on around her. As if she had nothing to fear from the outside world; nothing to fear from being in his territory. Even if she truly didn't. The choice he made sat relatively well with him. Such was the way of the world, he supposed. The strong ruled, while the weak served the strong, and vied for the day that they would be the strong.

Maybe he'd learn something from the vixen. He knew, immediately, he was interested in how she managed to amass such a stupid amount of raw power behind her attacks; despite his natural resistances to Dark-type moves, she'd solidly put him down with just two of them. Either she was older and more experienced than she seemed, or there was some sort of trick to what she did. Or, perhaps, she was simply an amazing Pokémon that was naturally strong. He still didn't know what she was, exactly. Some sort of darkling.

Goro let loose a breath he didn't know he was holding when the vixen leaned back out of his face, casually remarking that they were going to go and summon... an evil god. Or something. He tried not to let the skepticism show on his face as he stared at her, equal parts shock and frustration rising up within him. Still, he had to quash those feelings, and hesitantly he rose up from the ground, pushing himself up onto his feet by his knees. His head was still throbbing a little from the harsh landing he'd suffered, and there was more than a little stiffness in him, but for the most part, he seemed no less worse for wear. He side-eyed her warily as he slowly moved, actually doing a double-take when the vixen called him Lumpy, of all things-- had he not yet introduced himself?

No, in fact, he hadn't. He'd been too busy trying to clobber them. He was just about to open his mouth to correct her when a small blue orb careened out from his peripheral vision, striking the fox squarely on the side of the head, prompting the fox to let out a cute, whining complaint at the attack. He blinked at the sound, stunned, his gaze stupidly glued to the Pokémon that was his opponent not a few minutes ago, before swinging in the direction that the projectile had come from-- a Volbeat. One of the Firefly Pokémon. The Croagunk startled at Krikka's outburst, stumbling back a step, absently watching her launch another Dark Pulse and blast the bug out of the sky and into the waters in the distance. It was an impressive display of accuracy but still struck him as passing strange. He'd been living in the Marsh for some time now, and he'd never been attacked by the Firefly Pokémon - and there were hundreds. The critters came from who knows where every night to light up the entire Mystery Dungeon, turning it from an inhospitable swamp into a gorgeous tourist attraction. That was the first time he'd ever seen one attack something, before.

Maybe this bitch was just evil, and the swamp critters knew it. It certainly seemed that way, as Krikka turned from him to scream at her other subordinate, making clear her preference for just murdering her problems. He watched the she-devil in a daze of stupefied awe as she apparently noticed something from the corner of her eye, spinning on her heel to take in whatever poor soul attracted her attention. She shrieked at the Pokémon, another Poliwhirl, fur angrily bristling, her dark aura swimming up around her ominously. Threateningly. Thankfully, the feral seemed a bit smarter than Goro was, promptly turning on its heel and fleeing the scene, leaving Goro with the huffing and puffing darkling glaring absently in front of her, and her subordinate standing awkwardly in the distance.

He was beginning to have some second-thoughts about his decision.

Thankfully, he was saved from being the one to break the tense, awkward silence when the Buizel spoke up and approached. Goro's lip visibly curled at the Water-type's words, the Croagunk visibly leaning forward for a moment, appalled and furious that the shit weasel actually had the nerve to catch his eye and offer such bold words. If ya want me dead, fuckin' do it yerself, ya shit weasel. Immediately, his fists itched for another round with the Buizel, but the irritable fox in front of him gave him pause - surely, she'd attack him if he made a move on her pet. Still, he knew straight-away he wasn't going to like this little shit, watching him slink up the vixen's side and enquire as to her well-being. Because that was a smart thing to do; he'd just met the psycho bitch and even he could tell she was about to snap.

"Not Lumpy, by the way," His voice was churlish and quiet, but clear in the sudden silence. He kept his words short and sweet, not wanting to offer any more than necessary; he wasn't exactly finding decent company, here. "It's Goro."