Marshall sat on a rocky formation, legs crossed and arms resting at his side. As he delved deeper into the void of his psyche, he entered a trance, clearing his mind. He did not notice the men storm in, nor did he notice Angie's capture. All he did, was think. Think and contemplate, pondering on all the information he had gathered. As Angie and some of the others were taken away, things began to become clear for him. He sat for several hours before the Snorlax from before approached him, a light bruise forming on his side. Feeling his presence - thanks not to his existing phychic ability, but rather the Ralts family's inherent abilities - and woke from his trance. Looking about him, he noticed a chunk of the others were missing. He frowned.<br/><br/>Greg grunted at Marshall, speaking in that gruff tone of his.<br/>"I've half a mind to give you a good beatdown after that kick you gave me, newbie."<br/>Marshall looks back at Greg with a little apprehension.<br/><span style="color: #40BF00">"What stops you, Gregory?"</span><br/>"What are you, some kind of brainiac?"<br/><span style="color: #40BF00">"I used to be a competitive trainer. Skilled trainers use their heads and analyze any given situation they find themselves in."</span><br/>"You're cocky."<br/><span style="color: #40BF00">"I notice an implication that my confidence is ungrounded."</span><br/>"This place will break you."<br/><span style="color: #40BF00">"I've been at the mercy of bullies before. This is extreme, but otherwise somewhat familiar."</span><br/>"You think you can get out?"<br/><span style="color: #40BF00">"Evidence I've collected so far would indicate so, yes."</span><br/>Greg tapped his ear. "They can hear us, you know."<br/><span style="color: #40BF00">"I've already taken that into account."</span><br/>"Tell me, then."<br/><span style="color: #40BF00">"I would. Believe me, I want to. Despite my misgivings about your general behaviour, I still want to get you out with the rest of us."</span><br/>Greg scoffed. "How chivalrous."<br/><span style="color: #40BF00">"I'm a Gallade, now - what do you expect?"</span><br/>Greg shrugs. "Fair point, I suppose."<br/><span style="color: #40BF00">"I'm afraid I do not have any concrete plans at the moment. But I promise you, I will not end my days here. At least not on my knees."</span><br/>"You one of them 'fight 'till the death' types?"<br/><span style="color: #40BF00">"In Leyman's terms, yes. You're not far off."</span><br/>Greg folded his arms, fat bouncing on his sides. "Alright. When the day comes -"<br/><span style="color: #40BF00">"You'll be in the thick of it. That's how you like it, yes?"</span><br/>"You really are a brainiac."<br/><span style="color: #40BF00">"Indeed. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have thinking to do."</span><br/>Greg looked at marshall for a time, then nodded and turned away.<br/>"I don't like you, newbie, but seeing you hit the wall against these guys will be worth it. And you're a fighter. That I can respect."<br/>Marshall looks at Greg moving away, sighs, and returns to his meditation.<br/><br/>He remains in a trance until Angie returns, largely undisturbed by his peers.