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"Come on, kid, you think we don't see that luxury ball right on your belt? And that sword doesn't look cheap either. Who even carries around a sword, huh? We'll be doing you a favor taking it off your hands; you could get arrested for that kind of stuff."

Luke stood his ground, feet planted firmly on the paved ground despite his back being pressed against the alley wall. Though his head was slightly lowered, he willfully met the gaze of the the man who stood in front of him, his hands in fists at his sides. He and three others surrounded the boy in a haphazard semicircle, and though they seemed to want to make their words sound amicable, it was painfully obvious from their tones that they were anything but. Luke wasn't used to being outnumbered - indeed, he wasn't used to physically facing human opponents at all - and his use of his right arm remained limited by the brace he wore. He'd been down through this area of Camphoreon before, long ago, and had made it there and back without incident, so this sort of circumstance was unexpected in itself. Maybe he'd just been lucky, not that statistics mattered at a time like this.

He didn't reply to the thinly veiled threats, instead concentrating on the matter of how he was to escape. It was obviously unwise to take on all four of the muggers head-on, and if he called on a pokemon for back-up they would just disable him before he could issue commands. Leste's Twister or Whirlwind would have been fine options, but the alley was too narrow to sustain the Pidgeot's volume, let alone the area of one of her attacks. He could probably get out if he could create some kind of distraction, but it was difficult to redirect their attention if they were all focused on him.

"Hey, you listening? I'm trying to play nice here, but if you're just gonna blow me off, then I'm gonna have to get unpleasant." He jabbed a finger at Luke's chest, drawing a scowl in reply, "Got it? Now get to it. I'm losing my patience."

The swordsman tensed, the fingers of his left hand flexing instinctively at the hilt of his sword. Maybe if he could just surprise them...

A sharp cry and curse of profanity from one of the men drew everyone's attention, though by the time the second stone hit its mark Luke had come to realize that this was exactly the distraction he had been hoping for. He ducked and made to dart away, though his progress was painfully impeded by a hand clamping around his arm - aiming for the obvious injury, as any competent mugger would - and pushing him in front as though he were meant to be a human shield against any more of the stones. He grimaced, temporarily disabled by the pain that lingered in the still-healing limb and flared to life from the rough handling.

"Yeah, well that's how cliches work, princess," the man gripping Luke's arm said with a sneer, making no motions to quell the aggressive stances the two stricken muggers were taking towards the recent arrival. "Sometimes an idea is just so good that everyone's gotta try it. How about this one; it's a classic: No sudden moves or the kid gets it." The words were accented by the metallic sound of a switchblade leaving its casing, the small knife drawing up to threaten its captive's face.

If the 'poor kid' comment wasn't enough to turn his disposition sour, and the possibility of having the improvements in his arm reversed certainly closed the deal, and the threatening blade was just an additional insult. "You've got a lot of free time, don't you?" he said, both irritation and stress manifesting in his tone. A blow to the chin, a swift kick to the shin, a brandish of his blade - but he really didn't really want to risk getting himself cut in the process. That knife was a bit too close to his neck for comfort.

"Never heard of a princess that's a dude before, myself, but stranger things have happened, right?" He ignored Luke's comment in favor of addressing the more interesting of the two, and indeed the more threatening given that the new guy wasn't restrained. Not that Luke cared about all that; the sheer fact that he was being brushed off without any acknowledgment was frustrating enough. Apparently he was just a convenient bargaining chip in this situation. Like hell he was gonna settle for that - though he didn't really have a whole lot of choice for the time being...

"Your dog there's a real winner," the street thug smirked, nodding his head in the direction of the Growlithe's departing form. "Real smart. Maybe you oughtta take a hint and turn tail yourself. You go our way, we go ours, no one gets hurt. Everyone wins."

From somewhere amidst the innate discomfort and vague sense of panic that came with any such circumstances, Luke understood the fact that if the guy had any intent to actually kill him he would have done so already - not that that provided a whole lot of solace, but it at least gave him some room to work with. Just one more good distraction. If the guy would drop his guard for all of two, maybe three seconds... He abandoned the thought of witty banter - the black-haired guy seemed to have that base pretty well covered - and turned his attention instead on his surroundings, keeping watch for any change that could be to his benefit.

"I don't even mind that," the thug said, shrugging. "Two seconds 'sall I ask. He'll be able to move around a lot easier once he's not hauling at this expensive crap, right?"

The requested two seconds came to an end before they started at the actions of the Growlithe the man had observed fleeing the scene. Shouts of surprise and pain served as method enough to drop his guard, and Luke was well-prepared to take advantage of the situation. He easily pulled free, jerking his uninjured elbow backwards into the mugger's jaw to dissuade reaching hands from their target. His preparation went a long way in aiding his escape, and he managed to dodge out of the fray, turning and taking a post near Yuri with one hand on the hilt of his sword and the other lingering near the pokeballs at his hip. "You planning on sticking around here?" he asked, keeping his gaze firmly on the scene in case the need to defend unexpectedly arose and shifting into a practiced stance. Staying didn't seem a wise choice, but he wasn't going to leave the guy to fight on his own if that was what he planned.

The thug that had been struck nursed his bruising jaw, fixing the pair of swordsman with an icy glare that eventually gave way to a suave smirk. The man straightened his posture and narrowed his eyes with a shrug, "Well what can I say... I'm not much for hard work, especially if the spoils ain't up to par. S'ppose we'll be bowing out of this one, m'lady." He half turned, a vague gesture indicating to the others that they were leaving. Said others grudgingly obeyed; they weren't terribly fond of the idea of being run off by a girly dude, a kid, and a puppy, and it soon came to light that the man giving the orders felt similarly. His suave disposition darkened, and he amended his previous statement, "But don't think for a minute that we're just gonna let you get away with this." He angled his face to indicate the dark bruise on his face, "I'll get you back for this, tenfold. So look forward to it."

Luke found the retreating form of the group of muggers incredibly frustrating, and he frowned at them all the while, giving some serious consideration to pursuing the bastards and saving them the trouble of going out of their way for revenge later. They had an awful lot of nerve to just run away after all that production, but whatever. It was not without some hesitation that his hand finally fell away from the hilt, a long sigh expelling the tension that he hadn't realized had accumulated. It would be a brief while longer before he spoke, green eyes fixed in any direction other than the target of his words, "Thanks, I guess." Rather than insincere or ungrateful, Luke simply disliked having to meet strangers. It was never a fun process.

What, was that it then? Normally he wouldn't have had any problem with parting ways there, but given the context, it felt like if the guy walked away, he'd like with the impression that Luke was some stupid kid that couldn't defend himself when it counted. He would have thought of something eventually. Maybe he wouldn't have gotten away as unscathed as he did, but still. Stubbornly, when he began moving forward, it was in the same direction as the older male instead of the opposite.

"Don't see a whole lot of swordsmen around here," he commented, offhandedly as he did. It was true that it was a point of curiosity, though; every swordsman he knew except Emil was of Grande Ile origin, and Emil was taught by one such Grande Ile native. It was strange enough, Luke decided, that it warranted mention. That wasn't horribly out of place, right? Less so than small-talk about the weather, at least.

Luke tried not to look too surprised by the reply. It was sort of a bold assessment to presume they were from the same place, wasn't it? ...But really, what other country or region or whatever saw people carrying swords around on a day-to-day basis? It certainly wasn't commonplace in Kodo; that much he could confirm as fact. Nonetheless, it created a kind of creepy effect. "What, so you're some kinda psychic?" Clearly not, since even Luke could conceive the conclusion that the man was from Grande Ile, but he sure came off that way, so why not humor the idea?

"Pff." Luke pocketed his hands, green eyes accusingly incredulous. "If you're psychic, then I'm a robot." Really, at this point, neither was incredibly disprovable.