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Oh. That was absolutely not at all what she was expecting a Lapras to do. Apparently their endangered status might not be due to poachers alone after all if this was the gut instinct response to a trio of voracious landslides barreling towards them. It also cut a lot of Leslie's timeframe to arrive and aid Cera in this whole disaster by a large amount. Looking to her Onix, she would reach a hand up to knock against her head as she said, "Grunt, Rock Throw. Aim for the legs of the one on the left." Feeling her Onix's tail wrap around her body, she would take a deep breath before Grunt whipped his tail around and shot the most hard-headed rock he could towards the Snorlax: Leslie. Yelling as she was sent flying through the air by her Pokemon, she would keep her eyes locked onto her charging target and raise her hammer behind her. As she streaked towards the Snorlax and kept an eye on its charge, she would swing at the leg it was standing on as she drew within distance. The sudden and heavy impact would immediately sweep the Normal type's leg out from under it and have its charge come to a screeching halt as it now fell to the ground.

Leslie would let out a cackle of victory as the charging Snorlax was removed from its charge and disappeared from in front of her. An attitude that lasted until she looked up and saw the entirety of that Snorlax eclipsing the sky as it fell onto her.

With the other valiant charge that was occurring, Cera's Larpas would slam directly into the other Snorlax that had been on the flanks. Thanks to the incredible momentum that all of the ice it had laid out allowed it to achieve, the Lapras would manage to hit with enough force to stymie the Snorlax's charge and sending it bouncing back. It would also the Lapras and Cera bouncing away with more much force and height though. As much as the increased speed let them adjust physics to their side, they had just slammed into something with some bounce to it and double their weight.

But it would result in a small chain reaction, as the slammed Snorlax would bounce backwards towards his final companion. The third Snorlax would bounce upwards as well, slowly coming into position for its landing.

Finally pulling her upper body out from underneath the Snorlax that she had assaulted, Leslie would let out a few heaving breathes before asking, "Is that the worst you can do?" To which the universe would respond with the airborne Snorlax landing on top of the small dogpile. Leslie's eyes would bulge open as the increased weight and impact came down onto her, arms flailing around like a deflating balloon as she attempted to somehow escape. The sole Snorlax still upright would attempt to resume its approach to the berry bins, leaving Cera with the choice of whether to assist Leslie or make sure that the last Snorlax was deterred first.

"That is correct, the masks originally belonged to Ogerpon." He said, sitting back down with a sigh and rubbing one hand with the other. Old age and a life of woodwork hadn't been kind to his hands. "But yes, the Ogre Clan are a group of Ogerpon sympathizers as you put it, adol- young men..." He chuckled softly, almost melding his two 'personalities' in that moment. Guess he was still in festival mode. "The clan was created by my great great great grandfather who sympathized with Ogerpon. The story goes he was a young boy during the days when Ogerpon and the people of Mossui Town got along in harmony. In fact, Ogerpon wasn't alone during those days, it had a friend, a human. By modern terms you could say they were Ogerpon's trainer." The old man began to explain his family's lore.

"According to the story told to me Ogerpon and its human friend were said to come from a foreign land to Kitakami. The people of this region were not very welcoming however, disturbed by their strange appearance. The pair moved up to and lived in the mountains away from the village there after. A local mask maker however took pity on the pair, my four times great grandfather, and made them a set of masks so that they may cover their faces and join in on the festivities of the yearly mask festival. During this period my three times great grandfather developed a keen interest in Ogerpon and the man and began to follow them around in secret, as what nosy young boys are prone to do." He said with a chuckle.

"One night tragedy struck however and Ogerpon's friend suffered some sort of gruesome fate. The family tale does not say what happened exactly, just that my three times great grandfather, while spying and hoping to catch a glimpse of Ogerpon like usual, saw the man run back into their cave frantically and never come out again. The next thing he saw was Ogerpon return and soon after fly out of the cave in a blind rage and with a thirst for violence. It was after this point where the family story and the official story merge in that Ogerpon launched an attack on the Loyal Three in the middle of the village. After a fierce fight Ogerpon slew the Loyal Three and fled from the village, retreating back to the mountains, heavily wounded but having survived. Most thought it died of its wounds that day but Ogerpon survived." He continued the story.

"My three times great grandfather would continue to watch Ogerpon from afar and note it would almost never leave its cave, not like it used to, only coming out when it absolutely had to for small amounts of food and water. My grandfather took mercy on it and began to leave it sustenance but never did Ogerpon allow him to get no closer than several feet away from the cave entrance. As the years went on my grandfather devised a way to make sure Ogerpon was taken care of, even if it didn't want to be, and created the Ogre Clan, individuals devoted to leaving Ogerpon offerings, some times disguised as offerings to the Loyal Three." He said letting out a sigh as he tried to stretch his fingers.

"Ogerpon wouldn't abandon the village all together though. For whatever reason, perhaps as a way to keep the memory of its friend alive, it would continue to visit the festival every year, disguised by its mask, blending in with all the ogre masks my family make to help it move about in secrecy." The old man said with a smile. "And that, dear boy, is the story the people of Kitakami do not want to hear about the so called dreaded ogre of Oni Mountain. I to this day wonder what happened in that cave that night and how three of Ogrepon's masks ended up in the Temple of Loyalty up in Kitakami Hall. Those are the masks the Ogre Clan has tried to re-obtain for Ogerpon, all these years they had been guarded closely, it was only last night on the two hundred year anniversary that they were finally taken out to be shown off. Though if what you say is true they are now back where they belong. That makes me happy." Hideko smiled.

[Note: Added more 'greats' to provide more distance in time after doing some maths.]

"Many in my family thought the same, in fact every one of my fathers before me had the same thoughts as you." Hideko said as he turned to a picture of his father on his desk along many other pictures, picking it up, looking at it, and then setting it back down again. "The town is set in their ways, people need their figures of hope, especially in a place with so little to inspire hope like Kitakami. The Loyal Three inspire hope in people, have for over two hundred years and have helped the people of Kitakami create a culture all their own. How do you think they would act if you told them their culture was all built on a lie? That their offerings, their prayers, their very hope, was all for nothing? They would get angry, wouldn't they? Lash out even. Maybe even treat you just as they treated Ogerpon before and chase you off into the mountains. The mountains where the Ogre Clan makes their home, for example." Hideko explained to Tristen.

"Is it better this way? I do not know. But I do know that the people of Kitakami do not wish to hear the truth, that is simply the fact of the matter. Besides, what proof does anyone have to show them otherwise? Everyone, save Ogerpon, is gone from that time, including the Loyal Three that may or may not have been the actual perpetrators. What is a lie is now fact simply because enough people believe it. It's a harsh world, ado-...young man." He said solemnly.

Silence would fall for a few moments before Hideko spoke again, hearing his wife close the refrigerator door, she would be here soon. "Do you have anymore questions?"

Hideko smiled at Tristen's resolve, the energy and motivation only found in youth. Reminded him a lot of his grandchildren, particularly his granddaughter. "Closure. That's a good word." He said with a nod. "Well young man, if you can find closure to the tale of Ogerpon and Kitakami then please, be all means. I hope you succeed where many others have failed." Hideko said, looking around his work bench, his eyes immediately focusing on something. "Here, take this." He would reach for the item, a strange looking wooden Pokeball. "It's a kind of Pokeball my grandfather taught me how to make and his father before him, a Jet Ball. It's made from White Apricorns and a rare mineral that is sometimes found in the Timeless Woods. Not many people remember how to make these anymore. When you throw that Pokeball at a target it will move faster than any Pokeball you've ever seen, so save it for something that is trying to get away from you. Also don't try to curve it or anything, it only moves in a straight line."

Once Hideko was done his wife would show back up with a tray of lemonade, setting the tray down on his work bench and immediately going about handing one drink to her husband and then the other glass to Tristen. "Sorry for taking so long. Here you go! Hope my husband didn't take your ear off too much." She said with a chuckle.

"Of course dear! We always enjoy a visit from the youngin's! Especially when our grandchildren are at school. Thank you for stopping by." The nice old lady said to Tristen, thanking him. Hideko would concur with his wife before taking a big gulp of his lemonade and then proceeding to compliment her on the beverage.

-----

[Some time later...]

The old couple would do as the elderly are prone to do and would talk Tristen's ear off for well over an hour, showing him pictures of their grandchildren, tell them stories of them and this Blueberry Academy they attended, and of course told them a little bit about their childhood here in Kitakami. A lot of chasing Bug Pokemon as kids.

Eventually Yukito would declare it was time for their mid morning nap and would show Tristen to the door while her husband settled down. While standing in the doorway she thanked Tristen again. "If you're ever in the region again please feel free to stop by! Oh and if you ever see my grandchildren please tell them to call home more often! The two academies do trips with one another so there is always a chance you meet each other. Take care, dear!" And with that she waved Tristen off, shutting the door only once he was out of sight.

"Really? You don't know about the world renowned Pokemon Coordinator Lisia!? I'm surprised! Then again I guess Kitakami is pretty far out of the way..." The man said, muttering the last part to himself as he looked around. Did he figure Amaranth was a Kitakami native. "Doesn't matter. I think you got what it takes to hit the big times as a Pokemon Coordinator. Here, my card." Raoul Contesta said as he pulled a card out of his suit jacket pocket and handed it to Amaranth. The card would have his name, Raoul Contesta, and his work title; Chief of the Pokémon Activities Committee. Beneath that a phone number and email. Chief of the Pokemon Activities Committee, huh? Sounds like an important person.

"Swing by one of the contest halls in Hoenn or Sinnoh some time and show them that card, tell 'em Mr. Contesta sent you and they will get you all set up! I hope to see you on the stage soon! Take care, Miss Amaranth!" Raoul said, shacking Amaranth's hand one more time before disappearing into the crowd. Well, that was something.