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Surrounded on all sides by jagged earth and an encroaching mist, Adrian finds himself flanked by a second trainer—even as he only just then confronts the original trainer ahead of him. Tch. As if he needed the added headache...[break][break]

The odds never really seemed to favor him lately.[break][break]

Fingers flex and undulate as nails find purchase against the smooth, polished surface of pokeballs latched against his waist, poorly concealed beneath the low hem of his jacket. The excess of leather and denim in his attire gives him away, perhaps.[break][break]

Their nonchalant candor amuses him slightly.[break][break]

"Don't you read the news?" He crows with a derisive aura, making his contempt for them plain, and (hopefully) dispelling any notions of his being there purely coincidental. He was an insurgent.[break][break]

The unorthodox interjection gives him the needed opening to release his pokemon, which unfurl in a brilliant flash of red, revealing a COPPERAJAH and an ORANGURU—offering a small buffer between himself and the perceived threat they present.[break][break]

ADRIAN releases COPPERAJAH![break]
ADRIAN releases ORANGURU!

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"..." No comment on their literacy, though he might've reserved a choice remark.[break][break]

The brief lull allows the other a moment to explain herself, his eyes narrowing with skepticism. Despite how often he's found himself in the selfsame predicament, his expression is that of incredulity—he does not trust them at their word—but there is the question of what this ultimately changed. An already conflicted conscience loses its conviction, for a time.[break][break]

But orders are orders. Regardless of the authenticity of their claim, he is under obligation to send them off. They were an obvious security risk, both of them.[break][break]

"Sorry, I don't care what you think you're doing here..." His pokemon perk up, detecting the shift in cadence as Adrian rattles on with a final warning: "Thing is... you're not welcome."[break][break]

They couldn't be allowed to recover any artefacts, not even by happenstance as civilians. The possibility was all too real; he knew that firsthand.[break][break]

"So abandon your search, or..."[break][break]

They would be made to leave.

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"I think you're not listening." He watches with a leer as they refuse to make their exit, though while one remained perhaps a conscientous objector, the other had retaliated. This token act pacified his better nature, giving him a clear conscience to respond with necessary force.[break][break]

That is, without feeling guilty.[break][break]

Copperajah shudders as it is blasted by the surge, its ferrous figure warped from the impact. With an aggrieved bellow, it shrugs off the worst of it before drawing a deep breath. In that moment, Adrian offers instruction: "Copperajah—"[break][break]

"W H I R L W I N D !"

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From its trunk Copperajah would loose a torrential wind, threatening to sweep them away.[break][break]

COPPERAJAH used WHIRLWIND!

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Scattered, their reprisal comes in the form of a Zweilous rushing headlong for Copperajah. Rather than allowing itself to be fazed, Copperajah stands stalwart, but reels as their fangs puncture the skin of its trunk. Anguished, it would thrash its limbs and flail its trunk, hoping to be free of the wretch and its accursed bite...[break][break]

B R U T A L S W I N G

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So he knows about the stones. This only drives his suspicions deeper, as they are not entirely the clueless bystander they might've presented as. And while this only further strengthens his resolve, he gives pause enough to listen. Adrian does not trust their offer of help, but the mention of caches garners his attention. In them he detects a kindred spirit...[break][break]

Not that he would give him a chance so freely.[break][break]

"...Why tell me this?" As a distraction, or a gullible attempt at subterfuge? It hardly seemed appropriate.[break][break]

COPPERAJAH used BRUTAL SWING!

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One could be forgiven for doubting a stranger at their word, much as Adrian would now. Part of him relates to the message—and the one who gives it by proxy—but the situation is too delicate for him to turn such a blind eye to a potential threat, as impassioned as they may be.[break][break]

"How long have you been rehearsing that?" He'd dissented from the League much the same way they were now, and they must have ruminated those same thoughts time and time again before using them here and now. Part of him wishes to allow that modicum of trust, to see where it led him.[break][break]

The fact they haven't released a new pokemon to replace the Zweilous they just retired does, in some ways, give him assurance. Adrian's Copperajah keeps to his side as the other approaches, allowing him to drag a delicate touch across its hide, siphoning its life for his own needs. He just may need it soon.[break][break]

Adrian does not wish to extend his hand in greeting, but passively acknowledges the act, deferring to their earlier statement to direct their interests.[break][break]

"...Where did you see those caches, Milo?"[break][break]