Officer Jenny
Having a telepathic pokemon on hand made things much, much easier for taking statements. And raised a few more questions about the generally friendly Clodsire, because he was able to recognize eco-terrorists from other regions. Though given what they were trying to do, based on what King Clod was saying, well, the lethal rebuke was not something that she was going to get worried about. That, and this was only the second instance were the alpha pokemon (as they were sure he was not a totem pokemon and nothing was suggesting dynamaxing and so that old classification would have to do) getting into a serious fight.
And the last time it had been a predator going after eggs that pokemon had left in his territory to look after. Though now with an incident where the mere presence of eco-terrorists whose primary operations were in Hoenn meant that some of the ideas for were he came from needed to be reworked, as until this point they had figured he had somehow made it all the way from Grimnir. Mostly because he was known to get to shelter before the sun set and would only emerge if there was plenty of light before dawn.
And according to the gardevoir she was interviewing, he was always awake for the false dawn, staying still and watchful until the true dawn. All and all, he only needed to have a collection of ghost repelling charms and he would be a fit for someone that lived in the Swamp of the Damned for a few years. And yet, being able to recognize two Hoenn gangs on sight, but being aware of their goals (and the fact that he called them eco-death cultists was worrying and something that needed to be forwarded to the people over there), suggested that he could have come from there.
Honestly, it was not something she was going to be too upset about. Largely due to the fact that he was clearly upset about going lethal, but there were still Ralts and Kirla willing to play on him along with a few of the other smaller pokemon. And they tended to be good judges of character, as did her Growlithe, who was curled up on the gentle giants back. And of she could not trust her partner, then she could not really trust anyone. And so, she nodded, as she tapped the pen.
"Thank you for the report, and for sharing the memories." One of the greatest aspects of having psychic types as a witness, the fact that anything and everything someone saw was effectively able to be shared in not quite video format. "That will be a massive help in apprehending the suspects." And it would, even as she looked at the fact that all the psychic pokemon had turned to look at King Clod, who had seemed to be thoughtful. And there was something sweet smelling in the air, as he opened his mouth, a mighty 'dorp' echoing out over the swamp.
Along with a surge of something, green mist sinking into the torn up mud, shoots of new growth suddenly appearing as the odd Clodsire nodded happily, bobbing in place. And based on the fresh grass and glowing weeds... she opened the King Clod document. "He has somehow learned how to use Grassy Terrain after an encounter with Team Aqua and Magma. No previous displayed grass techniques."
Which is when the ground rumbled, as he began to hum and sing, not close to a sound based attack, but a low rumble that seemed to fill the air, as mud flowed and shifted, hardening as he sank into the depths, a mound of stone forming in the middle of the bog.
King Clod
There was just something about working out how to use moves that I should not be able to use that was just fun. And ones that could be used for constructive purposes, those just soothed something inside of my soul, even as my senses reached out into the mud, into the earth and moved, as I reached into memories of an old life and simply sang. As I remembered and mourned the lack of city builders. Because those were fun, as were books and reading and so much more.
But it was a good life, as I settled into the mud, as rock and stone pulsed around me as I flexed something other than physical muscles. I dreamed of my bunker, neath the earth, a dreamed of halls of stone and earth that breathed in time with me, passages worn through the rock. A fortress above the bunker, a place to stand and hold, to break the armies of the world. A tower defense game I would never play again, as I settled, shifting in place.
Doors and balconies and beauty, carvings in the walls, the dream demanding my attention as I hummed and breathed slowly in and out. I took a deep breath in, and I breathed out wonder and joy and just a touch of my dreams into my resting mind. Because what was greater than a fortress with a mud dragon at the bottom? A fortress filled with cloying and secretive mist and shadows that tricked the mind and sent you to sleep!
It was, as I snored, genius!
Gardevoir
There were times she was greatly reminded just WHY the Clodsire the humans named King Clod was the protector of the swamp. It was not just his massive size or the fact that he was willing to put in a great deal of the work. No, it was the fact that he had massive energy reserves and was quite capable of some mildly absurd feats of energy manipulation. Crude and mildly amateur outside of those that were native to his kind, but since he could command the mud and waters of the swamp, it had made a great deal of sense to make him the guardian.
And now... now he was somehow making structures of swamp mud and stone, hardening the mud from the pulsing bits of aura... and filling it with something that very much was not misty or psychic terrain, but something related to both. Only the fact that she could still mentally contact her children prevented her from being more upset... as was the fact that the large idiot was apparently doing this while not being entirely awake. She sighed, as she reached out, teleporting a somewhat spooked Growlithe from the depths of the structure (from King Clod) onto the ground near his partner.
The fact that as grass aura pulsed and sank into the stones moss and vines were appearing, to make it seem like some ancient and forlorn ruin... she tapped a foot on the air. Seriously, was he a Mew that forgot he was one? She could not longer dismiss that as the case, without leaving open the possibility that Grimnir, his most likely homeland, was even more insane than everything she had heard of it. And frankly, given some of what she heard of that place, she did not want them to be true.
And now, she was going to have to tell a overly large and somewhat simple mudfish to think his actions through. Again. She shook her head and moved forward. Really, if he wanted less lectures on proper uses of his powers, he should be more responsible and practice when her children were NOT on his back. Ignoring the fact that they could all teleport if they were in actual danger.