Allister shook his head, walking through his stadium unhindered, many of the people who attended his match realizing that it was time to get back to their lives, or time to get to work.
He needed some fresh air, scratching his head as he began to wonder. Exactly how did his opponent draw all of the emotion out of him? He wasn't even aware of his own murderous intent, realizing after the battle that he did infact threaten his opponent's life.
And yet, as he walked out of his stadium and breathed in the fresh afternoon air into his small lungs, he realized that his intent was met with glee. Never once did Allister have the feeling that comes with one's life being in jeopardy. It was like his opponent was happy that he'd pushed him to that point. It was rather odd.
As much he didn't like being alone, he sent his Pokemon with a member of his staff, sending them to the Pokemon Center as fast as possible. He didn't want them to be injured any longer than needed.
He looked up to the sky, wondering what he would do next. Normally, he'd go home after battling a trainer, but without his Pokemon, he found himself aimless, scratching his head and adjusting his mask.
"Oi Kid! Are you the gym leader!?" he heard, seeing an odd group of people standing before him. They were slightly beat up, wearing bandages and nursing bruises and reddened skin. Their attire was odd, and he noted with his sharp eyes that his visitors had worn faces, like they were well into their adult age, despite their skinny jeans and crop top like shirts.
He nodded silently, finding it rather odd that five people would come to him at once. "Well… we're here to demand a match! You have to let our Marnie battle you right away!" one of the women said, and Allister narrowed his large eyes slightly.
They were beseeching him for a battle? He couldn't oblige them, and struggled to find the words. "I can't. I just lost a battle." he said, and they seemed rather frustrated. One of the men stepped forward, grabbing his right wrist and squeezing it.
"You must have a few Pokemon left! I can see those Pokeballs on your hip!" he said, and Allister glanced down, his body quivering slightly. He hated being touched, and he knew they wouldn't believe him.
For those Pokeballs he kept on his waist were special. They didn't hold Pokemon to be used in battle and to spend time with him. They were carrying cases, and within each of them was a half dozen masks, letting Allister feel comfortable walking around with nearly forty masks on him at all time.
He whimpered slightly, the grip on his wrist tightening. "Look, all you gotta do is throw the match. It won't be hard if your Pokemon are already beat up, right? Just let our Marnie win to get her confidence back, and we'll be on our way." the man said, poking Allister's lithe chest with a finger.
He let out a louder whimper, a sound that was part frightened and part uncomfortable. There was nothing he could do to free himself. At least, not here. Not in broad daylight in front of everybody. He quivered, finding himself powerless. Why couldn't it be night time?
Allister looked to the man, wondering what he could do to free himself. However, he didn't have to think very long, because a hand rose up from behind the man's head, latching around his skull and squeezing.
The man cried out, releasing Allister and reaching up, trying to claw at the bronze flesh of the hand holding him in an iron grip. "What did I tell you?" he heard, the man freezing at the sound of that unholy voice. It was the boy from before, the one that defeated Marnie.
Allister looked past the man, gasping slightly. All of the people that came for him were on the ground, and they were out cold. He looked about, trying to sense out Pokemon. He couldn't see or feel a thing. Did… did he really strike them all down himself? And with his bare hands?
The man was thrown to the ground, beginning to move back, panting and whimpering as Dagda stalked him, an enraged look in his eye. Dagda leaned down, nearly touching noses with the man, his canine teeth heavy and beginning to turn outward.
"I will not speak again. I have grown tired of your defiance. You may run like the coward you are, but if your ilk, or your precious leader come after me or my little brother again, I will skin you alive and make props from your bones!" he shouted, a dark look across his features, his lavender eye seeming darker in color.
The Team Yell grunt screamed in horror, catching the attention of random people as he managed to drag his unconscious friends away from the stadium's premises. Dagda grit his teeth, shaking his head as he turned around.
He crouch down, lightly grabbing Allister's arm and looking at his wrist. "Are you okay?" he asked, and the trainer fidgeted under his grip. He let him go, seeing nothing but a little red mark on his wrist. He looked away from Dagda for a second, but he soon nodded. "Yeah. Thanks."
Allister watched Dagda give him one of those smiles. It was a happy motion, a genuine gesture that offset his scarred face, his peculiar features all coming together to give him a radiant grin, something Allister found himself staring at.
"I'm glad you're alright. I would've had to really hurt somebody if they did anything to you." he said, and Allister found himself staring still. Why exactly did he care? Was Dagda really that interested in him? And for what purpose? The ghost leader knew he wasn't the most talkative, or the most fun person.
And then there was something else. During his vicious intimidation, Dagda called him his 'little brother'. Did he really view him in such high regard despite the fact that all they did was battle, and nothing else? It was so incredibly puzzling, and it made Dagda all the more interesting to Allister.
"Say, I don't think you'll be able to have any battles for a while with how badly we wrecked the place." he said, and Allister blinked, remembering the sight of his stadium torn asunder by their incensed clash of wills. This left Allister with even less to do than he initially anticipated.
"Not to sound weird, but you wanna come with me to Ballonlea? I'm sure hanging out would be better than twiddling your thumbs at home." he said, and Allister blinked. Why was this one so odd? He was incredibly friendly, and even offered to travel with him. Allister could easily slit his throat in his sleep, and yet he still offered. It was peculiar.
However, as the questions Allister asked continued to pile up, he found himself desiring answers. He nodded calmly, Dagda smiling broadly. "Great, I'll just tell my two friends and we can get going. The lady at the Pokemon Center said it'd take a few days for your Pokemon to be back in fighting condition." he said, and Allister hummed quietly.
Allister found himself face to face with two Toxtricity soon, a pair of brothers that seemed rather agitated. "So you beat his Pokemon up something fierce and then asked him to be your sidekick? I don't like the way you roll, man." Hendrix said, and Trujillo shrugged.
"We won't be heading to Ballonlea, and you know that. Just put up with it for what, a day?" he asked, and Hendrix grunted, scratching his head and shaking it. Allister found the two rather amusing, their contrasting voices and attitudes matching their appearance.
They made it to Glimwood Tangle within the hour, and Dagda found it incredible. Black and green trees spread farther than the eye could see, and Dagda noticed red, blue, green and pink mushrooms scattered about the forest, and they glew almost like lightbulbs.
It was an immensely relaxing place, and this location made Dagda feel more at ease than anywhere else he'd been to yet. Infact, if he wasn't careful, he'd end up staying here and not making the Champion Cup. The four walked, and Dagda glanced to Allister.
"Why exactly do you wear that mask, if you don't mind me asking?" he wondered, and Allister glanced up to him, Dagda noticing a slight shift in his odd swaying walk. He finally put the pieces of the puzzle together, and he wanted to know if his hunch was correct.
Allister narrowed his eyes slightly, wondering exactly how he should respond to that question. It was incredibly personal, and he searched for an answer. "I… I'm not very strong." he said, and Dagda looked to him.
"That's not true at all. You pushed me pretty hard, harder than anyone else has ever pushed me." he said, and Allister looked to him. What was it about that radiant positivity? Did it know no end, or was he just oblivious to things? "Why… do you wanna know?" Allister asked, and Dagda hummed.
With the quintet deep into the magickal mushroom forest, Galarian Ponyta and Impidimp running about without a care in the world, various Psychic and Fairy type Pokemon moving back and forth in the dim light of the mushrooms, Dagda sighed. "Because I have an idea." he said.
Dagda looked to him, wondering exactly how he'd respond to the conclusion he'd come to. "It all made sense to me once you said you wanted to kill me. A suppressed mean streak, the way you weave and sway when standing or walking, the way you talk to and command your Pokemon silently, even the odd compassion and care you have for them. But the thing that convinced me was something else." he said, and Allister narrowed his eyes.
What was he trying to say? Sure, the small trainer was fully aware that he moved about oddly, but it wasn't something he chose to do consciously. And how could he determine anything from a death threat? Allister began to grow frustrated with how many questions he was asking himself.
"When you stared me down with a look of pure hatred, your eyes began to glow. And not like a psychic Pokemon or eyes in the sun. Your eyes sparkled. Almost like gemstones. And that's when I realized that your mysterious origins and weird moves, and even the mask made sense. They're a facade." he said, and Allister hesitated.
"Why are you doing this?" he asked, and Dagda turned back to him, the pair of lizards looking to each other and sighing. "What do you mean?" he asked, and Allister clenched his fists. "Why are you trying so hard to learn about me!?" he asked, raising his voice. Dagda smiled, turning to him and crouching slightly.
"Mr. Felix, my sponsor, told me specifically to draw out your fighting spirit. When I did, I understood why he wanted me to do that. He wanted to teach me how to cross blades, and to share a stage with one of his own." he said, and Allister hesitated as Dagda reached for his face, grabbing his mask in his otherworldly grip.
Dagda pulled the mask off, smiling when he finally saw Allister's face. His face was young, and had many childlike, or otherwise soft features. He had a small mole on the left side of his jaw, and Dagda was finally able to see exactly how large his sparkling eyes were.
However, when Allister opened his mouth to speak, Dagda noticed that all of his teeth were sharp. There wasn't a single flat tooth in his mouth, which seemed rather large in proportion to his face. "I'm not going to touch you again, but I assume you have something like this on your chest, right?"
Dagda held up his necklace, a red gemstone looking thing that Allister knew all too well. It was much like the center of a Grimmsnarl's chest, or like the gemstone embedded in the chest of one of his ancestors. "I realized the reason that I was tasked with drawing out your fighting spirit was so that I would learn that you're a Halfling." he said.
Allister could feel his heart beat irregularly, his entire disguise, his entire facade shattered by one young man. With his peculiar features, dashing good looks and intoxicating confidence and swagger, he was able to discern Allister's secret, something no one had ever been able to do.
"Is that why you wanted him to tag along? So that you could expose him?" Hendrix asked, sounding rather agitated. Trujillo put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Leave it alone. Remember what the Boss said." he noted, the yellow lizard growling and shaking his head. Dagda looked to the two of them.
"I started having my suspicions because you two kept giving each other weird looks. The same kind of looks Pops used to give me before I knew about Halflings." he said, and they groaned, shaking their long necks and heads.
Allister moved suddenly, wrapping his arms around Dagda and hugging him. Dagda found himself frozen to the spot, surprised by the sudden movement. He felt Allister's body quiver slightly, and he placed a hand on his friend's back. "Thank you." Allister said, and Dagda smiled.
Hendrix and Trujillo looked on, the blue bassist sighing. "Bossman was right. This kid is something special." he said, and his brother snickered. "I guess so. But I guess he's pretty oblivious to the obvious. Look at that." he said, the brothers looking to Dagda's hand, which rested on Allister's back. Dense, flesh like hairs surrounded it, as if meant to protect the small Halfling.
"You on your way yet?" Pops asked, hearing a grunt on the other side of the line. "Why'd you get so pushy all of a sudden? You used to be as laid back as our older brother." he heard, and the bearded man began to laugh. "I wanted your help with this project, but it took you forever to hop on a plane."
The man on the other end of the line rolled his eyes. "Please. You know I was dealing with a few things. I have a job you know, unlike you." he quipped, and Pops whistled in return. "Guess you got your mother's silver tongue, huh? Regardless, did you bring the runt along?" he asked.
The man on the plane looked to the seat in front of him. "Of course I did. Although, I don't know why you wanted to ask us specifically. That place sounds like hell and you could've asked anyone to help you." he said, and Pops chuckled.
"There's someone I want you to meet. He's on our side, and I think he's gonna do all the annoying drivel for us." he said, and he heard a chuckle on the other side of the phone. "Oh really? Someone actually bought that whole 'Wanderer' crap?" he heard, and Pops laughed. "Somehow. Just make sure you two get here soon. I don't want to build these things without my little brothers."