They found Jagdish in a nook between collapsed walls outside - a niche that circumstance was protecting from wind, but got solid amounts of sunlight - crouched beside a collection of herbs, plucking at the ground with gardening gloves and tools. It would have been disarmingly mundane, if it weren't for the pokémon that was lounging on sparse patches of grass beside him, which brought its eerie gaze up to stare at Adelaide, the thin, filamentous feathers of its mane flowing in a steady wind that was definitely not there.

Jagdish seemed to notice their presence almost immediately, as well, but it might have been because the creature beside him had shifted its attention a moment before they themselves had seen it. “How was the tour?” he asked.

They'd been seeking Jagdish. Jagdish working under the watchful gaze of a supervising Legendary hadn't even crossed her mind as an option to panic about. Meep.

“Interesting,” Adelaide responded, giving the pokemon a respectful nod. “We did divert into infrastructure maintenance in the absence of a local Peliper population, rather than covering all of the buildings.”

Jagdish smiled - the expression simultaneously sincere and hollow. Then he shifted his attention to the pokémon with its fixed stare on Adelaide, and made a shooing motion with his right hand. For several seconds, nothing happened, then the image of the thing imploded in on itself soundlessly, as though her visual system were compensating for it never having been there in the first place, leaving a powerful dissonance in Adelaide's perception.

Jagdish rose, brushing some dirt off his trouser knees, then started to pluck the gloves off his hands. It might have been comical to see the comparatively dainty hands emerge from the gloves, if it weren't for the overall mood of why Adelaide was here. “I assume you're not here to talk about lunch.”

That wasn't the sort of TELEPORT she was used to. Was that a species thing? A Legendary thing? A 'you are too used to Natu and should meet some other Psychic pokemon' thing? Or perhaps a sign that the Legendary pokemon was still there and only invisible.

Adelaide glanced at the ground but she was not a tracker or detective who could read the grass for the correct degree of crumple. If there was a difference between 'a pokemon is lying here invisibly' and 'a pokemon was lying here twenty seconds ago', she couldn't spot it. Did it matter? Presumably Jagdish would share anything relevant anyway, and 'privacy' was probably a mysterious concept to a Psychic Legendary.

“More what will happen after lunch, or at least at some point in the nearish future,” Adelaide admitted, then hesitated once more. She was too used to being the diplomatic one, making all the polite steps in the social dance, which did not apply here. Breakfast showed that blunt honesty worked with Dakarai, and she had to gamble it would with Jagdish too. She didn't think it would make him any more irritated with her, at least.

She took a steadying breath, ordered her body to behave itself and met Jagdish's eyes. “I'm here to give my consent to be put on trial.” With an apprehensive smile and a touch of black humour, Adelaide added, “I'd make some remark about surrendering myself to your custody, but that's truthfully been the case since Mew delivered me here.”

Jagdish's expression barely changed, but the weight of his reaction was obvious in the pause that lingered after she finished speaking. Something was working inside that skull of his, making no secret of the fact it was taking its time to crunch the new data. It was almost beginning to stretch into the territory of long pauses that really were meant as admonishments, like moments of prolonged quiet disapproval, when he finally said something: “You're sure?” Tonally, it was a casual enquiry, like a friend asking if someone else was still up for that skydive they'd tentatively planned together.

Adelaide quavered. The only thing she was sure of was that this was a bad idea, but it may have been the least-bad option. “I'm not completely confident. I can't be. But… sure enough?” She grimaced. “It feels like the correct choice,” she managed, inadequately.

Onto his left hip Jagdish's hand went, and he brought up two fingers of his right hand to touch at his jaw. He tapped at it lightly. “Well, I suppose we'll see how it goes for you,” he commented. Now that he'd strung more than two words together, it was clear he was least slightly surprised and impressed; he didn't seem particularly well-versed in needing to handle that particular emotion, which, given what she knew about the whole process so far, was likely wholly unsurprising.

That… wasn't a good reaction? Or was it? She had no idea, and it wasn't any relief that Jagdish seemed equally surprised at things having gone off-script. Surprising him… well. Hopefully it wasn't as foreboding as she feared.