People were idiots, Slater knew this. Dante couldn’t quite just roll his eyes when he had to keep proper bedside manners when a poacher he smashed to a wall would come in injured. Like bitch. Why? Sometimes he wished he could just twist the arrow in the wound and hear them cry out for their parents just a tiny bit. To share that pain that the pokemon they hurt would often fear. Heck it was part of what drove him out here in this...colder…? Area.

The Kalosian held his Ralts close to his body as he felt the teleport take them to his destined location. “There, now stay close, we're gonna see what’s up,” he slid his helmet on over his jacket, then his armor overtop that. He kept the gloves over his fingers, only to hear a familiar voice. “Oh jesus christ.” The owl man rolled his eyes as the Zorua kept the illusion going, hiding his pokemon to appear as a rock.

“Well Seviper’s dont scare me. That’s why I have pokemon that are capable of getting me out of situations. I don’t know about you’re self,” the selfrightou tone exited his lips as he let his body follow the Vigilante. “You’re lurking in a cave looking for what” his voice modulator was on changing the pitch of his voice. “Perhaps looking for a pokemon to make a quick escape or is there a poacher ring like i’ve heard of hiding around out here.”

Sénon Game

Some more egotistical nonsense bursting from another masked man. Being a Vigilante wasn’t about being known, all that was needed was the lawless punishment people like himself dished out cold and pointed. Names didn’t matter, this whole….persona at the end of the day was a fabrication of separating life, work, and duty. “It’s not about being known, a name is known by the face, and we only have a mask that’s easy to copy.” he bluntly stated walking past the snow crab, not overly caring for it’s presence.

“Move along crab.” the words seemed to have some compassion as she shooed it along the icen path. “That’s assuming you don’t have enough,” Slater pointed with his fingers, “Just depends on your aesthetic I suppose, what you can hide easily.” Dante liked pokemon that had their practical uses for his job and life. Normally his pokemon were used to heal and deceive people, the give and take of reality.

“So what makes you desire to expand?” he asked quietly.

Sénon Game

Slater watched as the charmander moved to melt away the ice that laid around them, and more so burn up the little snorunt, which Slater agreed with Crimsen. That was over kill! Not that Slater could judge the man for, because he was known to be ruthless with people and pokemon alike when pressed. At the same time Slater couldn’t understand the man's idea of making the cave known. “Less hiding spots but sure buddy,” he paused and walked by the man letting his feet crunch the snow like gram crackers.

Of course the man was indeed right. Slater did suggest the idea of diversity makes the hero better, but it adds another weakness. Attachment. The hobby came with it’s risks, and with more pokemon to love, the more dangerous it got for them, and for his own safety. Surely he wouldn’t put distance between him and his pokemon, but when push comes to shove, he’d save them even if it meant going against his own morals.

“You are correct, Crimsen, but. Attachment makes it easier to be hurt,” he nodded, “Sometimes knowing how to approach something is the best way. It’s not about how diverse you can be, rather the approach and how adaptable you are.” Slater shrugged and kept walking, watching the chilled frosty caves glisten, “Hmmm you are correct. I’m not against it, but I’m not hunting them, rather it needs to be the, “ will die for your connection, and vice versa,” it was a terrible way to put it, but he lacked the correct vocabulary to explain his feelings, because he loved his pokemon more than people, and overall pokemon were just better.

Sénon Game

Slater...well didn’t quite care for much of the debate in itself, because he viewed his opinion, as applicable to himself. He wouldn’t be that stupid as to jump into a situation half cocked. Granted things did go wrong, that's why there was always an escape plan to the escape plan. Like a fire exit in the window just as the window itself would work as an exit. Sometimes focusing on getting creative with the ways you deal with things would prevent it from getting worse.

It wasn’t like he was all that bothered by this conversation rather he didn’t find the correct words to express himself. Normally out of the Slater persona he was much a hoe and that was about as far as he got attached. Naturally he loves his pokemon, but his face turned towards the red haired man, “But. Let’s say,” he paused hearing the call of a Dewong in the distance. In a nice clear crystal pond area.

Upon closer inspection the dewong was clearly abandoned by someone because why else would it be so high up. The Zorua looked up at his trainer, and created the illusion for the distressed pokemon. Giving a nice sweet image that would make it’s suffering disgustable. In a way trying to give it peace of mind, while Slater bonked it on the head with a pokeball, opting out of the violence. “If you had to choose one for the majority, or the majority for one. Which would you choose. Just a question of ethics. To be truly unbiased is impossible, there’s always something you’d never give up. But yet there are Martyrs that would.” he noted pushing the pokeball to the man.

“For you. Don’t abuse it,” he rolled his hand at the man.

Sénon Game