"League, then? That's much worse."

A calm, polite tone shifts darker with the implication.

"You don't know? Dangerously misinformed, for someone trespassing here."

Like morning fog over the ocean, miasma swells around him and creeps across the forest floor. It moves with a life of its own, defiant of the winds (or lack thereof). Around his ankles, tendrils of mist curl like shadowed serpents.

"My name is Gavin Merlino." There's a note of arrogance in his tone that seems to expect she'll know the name. Being an infamous terrorist had that effect. "You sought trouble the moment you decided to disobey the law of Sootopolis and trespass where you're not welcome. But if you back down and come with me to answer a few questions, we can avoid an escalation."

Gavin, notably, does not reach for a pokeball.

Talia Celes

Gavin laughs — a cold, humorless sound.

"Sootopolis was meant to be a peaceful takeover. It was the League who changed that."

There's an undercurrent of arrogance to his tone, a sneer upon his lips. His respect for the die-hard agents of the League was slim to none. He does, however, seem surprised when she challenges him. She's alone, in a bastion of Rocket power, and yet...

"You've got some nerve, I'll give you that."

Gavin shakes his head. The smile on his lips is one of pity.

He puts his fingers to his lips and lets out a loud, sharp whistle. For a long moment there is only silence, and then her answering call: a mournful whalesong tinged with the rough edge of corruption, before the Guardian of the Seas swoops overhead. Droplets of saltwater linger on her violet hide, scattered with every beat of her large wings. Gavin's miasma dances like a flame in the breeze beneath its true master.

When she lands, the ground beneath them quakes under her weight.

"If you insist, we'll even allow you the first move."

Talia Celes

"She is more than that, yes," Gavin agrees. The look he gives Lugia is one of undisguised reverence, a look that sours to disgust when his attention flicks back to Talia. "I am demanding nothing but that you leave this place where you are not welcome."

Lugia takes the brunt of the hyper beam, wincing from the pain but giving no ground. Rather than retaliating, she folds her violet wings and allows herself to recover from the blow. Her red eyes burn into Talia's own.

Gavin's brow furrows as something seems to pass between the shadowed legend and her vessel. Then he nods.

"If you insist on a fight, it doesn't need to be with Lugia. Behold."

With a flick of his wrist, he releases a Dhelmise with a rusted anchor, its seaweed-like body the bright red of blood. An aura of malevolence seems to emanate from the ghost-type as its compass slowly spins.

"I have others, should this one fall. You are out of your depth."

Shadow miasma curls around the anchor, imbuing it with vigor and strength.

Talia Celes

"What, do you think I'm going to kill you?" Gavin's laughter is cold, cutting. "When you lose, you're going to answer a few questions for me... and then I'm going to escort you out of our city so that you might go on and tell your League to stay away from the Tree."

When you lose, he says, for Talia doesn't stand a chance.

Lugia's deep purple wings seem to exude a miasma of their own as she continues to recover from the hyper beam.

Gavin folds his arms.

"Or you can come with me now, and we can skip the theatrics. It's your choice, really."

Talia Celes

"What you believe matters little to me."

Where Talia is indignant, furious, Gavin's calm tone offers contrast.

A paralytic thunder wave serves to slow the shadow Dhelmise, its spectral chains shifting as electricity sparks over the steel of its anchor. Chains of smoke and SHADOW are launched toward the Dragonair, seeking to HOLD it down.

In defiance of the canopy overhead, it begins to RAIN.

Talia Celes

A desperate, whispered plea is lost to the howl of wind and rain, but Gavin understands her expression as well as if she'd spoken those words into his ear. The battle is over before it had barely begun, and he has won.

He does not smile, but contempt tugs briefly at the corner of his mouth.

A whistle cuts through the din to gather the attention of his Dhelmise, and Gavin makes a sharp signal with his hand. Stand down, it means, and the tendrils of darkness retract from their earnest attempts to throttle Talia's Dragonair.

Lugia needs no signal but an understanding bridged between minds, and the wind and rain die down at her will.

"There needn't be any death, should you cooperate." Gavin gestures back toward the entrance of the forest. "Come."

Talia Celes