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Dakarai N'Sehla before his fall was distinctly inhuman, having a slight autistic streak that he'd never managed to get rid of. With no empathy to guide him, he largely interacted with the world by analysing the facts he could observe, and quickly adopted a few axioms that, while it let him survive in society, also netted him the nickname Togi Demon. Most notably, he never raised a hand to harm anyone that didn't harm him first, but was utterly famous for the kind of animalistic energy he put into his self-defence, reckless and stubborn in execution, to the point where he was near impossible to deal with once in that state.

His honesty both was and is not the candid sort, instead often considered callous by those dealing with him, though he rarely means to insult anyone. Some social etiquette is best skipped with him, such as 'Do you mind if I…?', to which he frequently responds with 'I do.' Generally, asking his opinion is commonly met with a straight, unflinching answer.

He spent much of his life trying to find a way back into social standing, not comprehending his own loneliness (if it can be called such, devoid of the usual emotional pain that comes with it but nonetheless undesired), much less how to fix it, causing him to make a series of rather bad decisions.

Before Taqnateh, he used to believe he had an exceedingly good grasp of himself, granting him an alien confidence and callous arrogance when confronted by people trying to treat him as subhuman. Generally, he ended up attracting the attention of bullies and gangs for most of his time in Njoty, the interactions with who he effectively ritualised as his source of social routine.

Taqnateh violently broke him out of his tunnel vision - he certainly hadn't considered pokémon as anything but tools before Jagdish Tsukinaka and the notion that he'd broken his most important moral guideline (not to harm someone who didn't harm him first) shook him up rather badly. He's put some effort - with Jagdish's guidance - to adopt a semblance of empathy, something he's been quite successful with given the odds (he'd certainly claim he can feel people now), though he's still likely to register to people as distant even now.

Both before and after his fall, he'd rather suffer or die than back down from a position he believes in. His virtues are honesty, integrity and responsibility - though that's about the full extent of positive things that can be said about him.

He certainly has no issue giving people the impression that he's an asshole, though he doesn't deliberately aim for the effect unless a history with the person in question kicks his pride into gear. He's quite capable of being polite - social etiquette notwithstanding - and frequently is helpful to complete strangers, in stray cases even forthcoming.

He has a certain wary prejudice toward other pokémon trainers, but at least as much sympathy, and he takes recent role as Observer quite seriously.

His attire being black, featureless slacks, Rhaptor's coppery skin comes across as lighter than it is. His hair is a myriad of colours, base being a dark brown, but this being indistinguishable, as the short, flame-like hairstyle is riddled with streaks of various colours, ranging from white blond to black, with the extremes of the colour scale most numerous. His eyes seem to have no colour in particular, being brown flecked with silver and gold specks that seem in constant motion, a sliver of pale blue lancing through his left iris, a lack of pigmentation - people don't usually remember his eye-colour when attempting to describe him, or misrepresent it as black.

• Iris (Venomoth)
• Paragon (HootHoot)

• Fracture (female Marowak with Bonemerang and Thunderpunch)
• Salt (Parasect with Slash and Spore)
• Incision (Skarmory with Drill Peck)
• Basilisk (male Dragonite with Outrage)
• Static (Magneton with Supersonic, Thunder Wave and Zap Cannon)
• ??? (Jynx with Powder Snow)
• Fenrir (male Houndoom with Crunch and Faint Attack)
• Magnolia (female ???)
• Fafnir (???)
• Kamaitachi (???)
• Mimickry (Ditto with Transform)
• Soot (male Muk with Sludge Bomb)
• Dawn (male Coronav with Endure, Reversal, Sacred Fire, Solar Flare and Swift)

Of these, Fracture was his first pokémon, won in a fist-fight with Auran Collins on Njoty university's campus grounds.

Collected from Arsaga:

What a strange medely of opinions to have. It was easy to respect her new master - she was rapidly learning more tricks than she even knew to be conceivable - but the fear was not abating. Today, they are fairly far north, in vicinity of the mountain, trees mostly of the evergreen variety. A glistening branch has led them across a river, cascading through the sloped forest in white rapids. A flat rock splits the stream - that same flat rock they are now both standing on. Salt, Dakarai's Parasect, currently one of his most prized pokémon, clambers resolutely but slowly off the end of the branch, chitin feet clicking against the stone ground, Dakarai stood with his delicate hands on his hips peering down at the two pokémon.

The glance is the same critical, analytic, inspective gaze that both pokémon already know from all the previous days. “Good,” he remarks, simply, single-syllable praise enough to excite the Parasect to clacking in rapid succession, its forelimbs together in restrained glee. His gaze drifts from the insect to the Marowak, though his words adress the Parasect. “Salt, SLASH the branch,” he remarks, voice level. It's an unusually direct order - he's been training them to deal with obscurity. Still, that makes it easy for Salt to react - hesitance had not been something Dakarai had been fond of seeing. As such, the branch whips to the side, half-split at their end, splashing noisily into the currents, parting the whitewater with ease, before being picked up into a twirl and downward cascade by the same. Gone.

Fracture looks up at Dakarai, nodding slightly and doesn't look away from him for long seconds before she lowers her gaze, flinching ever so slightly as she watches the branch break and go with the rushing water. She doesn't make a sound though and shifts slightly, shoulders twitching.

Thumbs slide into his pockets, expression unchanging. For a moment, he seems contemplatively held in this stance, before sliding his left hand out of his pocket and gesturing back to the shoreline they came from. “Today's assignment is to get back to the shore. Together, individually, either way. Individually scores more points.”

Fracture ducks slightly and eyes the fast flowing water then looks to the shore before back up at her trainer without saying anything; eyes wide and fearful. She lowers her gaze and chitters very softly to the large insect, stepping carefully closer even as her head tilts. Exhaling, she drags one forepaw across the bone helmet, frowning and feeling miserable.

The shoreline isn't that far away - but neither Fracture nor Salt are good at jumping. The gap's too large for them to just leap across. Dakarai, on the other hand? A swirl of motion, a gust of air, the sound of rubber soles on the shoreline - and he's stood looking at them from their destination. Meanwhile, Salt, foreclaws held together as if in a praying position - though it's nothing of the sort - blinks not-understandingly at Fracture.

Fracture actually whines but only very softly and just the once, shrinking back from the water's edge. She directs a glare at the insect, scowling before she folds her forepaws across her chest; resting the boneclub against her side and growls, softly without that she actually says anything. The ground pokemon is scared of her trainer but she is scared of water more and a shiver runs through her.

Dakarai takes a step back from the shoreline, right hand now resting, curled, in the palm of his left, being kneaded into. His gaze is on Fracture in particular, even as the Parasect unfreezes and scurries to the edge of the rock, only to dip its left claw into the water, holding itself still for long moments.

[…]

It's too much. That barest second of a moment ends in her shape being seized by the pull of gravity, nudged by the momentum of her lunge, and a loud splash can be heard as Salt smashes into the unfortunately fairly shallow waters, against jagged rocks, furiously consumed by the rapids trying to pull it down. Her shape follows the tilt, tugged by the weight and a split second's too late reaction toward the water's surface. The threatening roar of the water is in her face one moment - and then it's gone, and she finds herself in disoriented stagger cast back out of the pokéball on the dry shore, finding the isle off to her left somewhere, Salt collapsed in pant between Dakarai and the shoreline just behind her.

Fracture gasps heavily, her head lowered before she steadies herself, coughing a little. Straightening she exhales and growls lowly at Dakarai, her eyes narrowed and glittering dangerously. Walking towards her trainer, the angry sound grows in volume and intensity, the ground type beyond angry as she hefts her bone, not looking away from him. “<Not. Like. Water.>” she grinds out.

Fracture comes to a stop in front of him and stares up into his face and though she's scared, she's angry. “<You not nice.>” Her free forepaw glows yellow, sparks radiating from him and she attempts to THUNDERPUNCH him, not caring whether it hurts him or not, she's that angry.

Apparently, it catches him off guard - the crackling forepaw darts forward, displacing the air, striking against his right knee and abruptly causing him to crash down on that side, snarling. She doesn't get much of an opportunity to see his face twisted by a fierce sensation of pain - she's recalled before she's even fully aware he's still holding her pokéball; and then the red engulfs and consumes her. Nothing. Timelessly - so to her, it's not even an instant between being recalled and the next time she is called forth… but Dakarai holds the ball in one hand, rolling onto his back to remove his knee from anything touching it but the leg of his trousers, hissing, bringing his right hand up to dig fingernails into his thigh.

“Fuck,” he snorts, pulling his lower lip into a bite between his teeth, his nose wrinkling as if in emphasis of his emotions, grip on the pokéball tightening, nostrils flaring as he forces himself to breathe steadily. Salt scurries to him, wearing an as worried expression as is possible for an insect pokémon of that species, being gestured to distance by its master.

The pokéball crashes down against the ground, grip unrelenting, grinding against the ground. Fortunately, it has no effect on Fracture as Dakarai uses it to lean against and push himself to a rise, slowly, surely, angled slightly awkwardly. Some part of his mind analyses the damage - a fracture of the knee cap? If he's lucky, that's all it is. Grimacing, he props himself up into a sit, left leg angled beneath him. Snorting a breath, he peers past Salt toward the churning waters, before narrowing his gaze, steadying himself, ensuring he's sat sturdily. Silence. Motionlessly, he lets a few moments pass as he collects himself.

Then, in abrupt decision, he brings up his left hand, wielding the pokéball, outstretching that arm, before summonning Fracture with the press of a button, making sure she'll materialise in or immediately above the water.

Fracture appears then drops into the water with a startled yelp before she snarls and attempts to wade back out of the water, shoulders hunched. She doesn't get far before the current sweeps her off of her paws and down river. Struggling and terrified and she yowls piteously before she coughs, spluttering and swallowing some of the brackish water.

Salt cringes in on itself, gaze tracking Fracture as she's washed down the river by the sheer force of the rapids, shredded against and across the sharper pebbles that have yet to be worn down by water, a painful downhill ride, further emphasises by her weakness to the element. Dakarai pulls in a breath through his nose in distaste of her behaviour that spawned this, watching her tumble; before abruptly recalling her just before she is out of range. The pokéball twirls, re-aligning with the height of the river they're at, and she's cast back out into the water, Dakarai's nose wrinkling in silent contempt.

Fracture whines as she dumped back into the water, blood streaming from a myriad of small cuts scattered across her small shape before she coughs again, barely coonscious due to the pain and tiredness. A shudder wracks her shape and she splutters then sags, eyes half closed, barely any strenght left to keep struggling as the river sweeps her away again.

A moment later, the world around her disintegrates once more - only to be replaced by the sight of Dakarai leant across her, right hand raised. A moment later, the palm cracks down against her skull, reverberating horribly through the bone. His jaw, meanwhile, is set, expression full of resentment. “What the fuck was that about?” he snarls, not looking very human at all, eyes glinting with a fierce, demonic energy. He's still sitting as he was while she was tumbling down the river - but not because no time has passed since. In fact, Salt seems to be back in its pokéball.

Fracture whimpers and cowers as she is smacked, cringing away from him without that she looks at him. A shiver runs through her and she trembles, not daring to say anything although she shifts backwards away from him before she is still, held rigid by fear. Her eyes roll closed and she sags a little more, coughs up a little of the river water.

“Answer my question,” he narrows his eyes, kicking his left foot out behind him and to the side slightly, against the ground, eliciting a grinding sound as he pushes himself after her, slightly, with aid of his hands on the ground. It doesn't fully close the extra space she's made for herself, though. A snorted breath. “Answer, now.”

Fracture whimpers and cringes, skidding backwards a little more before she raises her head and stares up at him. “<You mean,>” she blinks slowly then adds: “<Water hurts.>” She wails softly in pain then, the sound edged with fear. “<I not do it again. Be good now.>” she whispers, cringing and pressing herself into the ground even though it hurts.

A guttural snarl surfaces from him, fingers of both hands flexing, the edges of his palms on the ground. He still doesn't really understand pokéspeech, but he can make out the tone of an apology without knowledge of her precise statements. “That was totally,” he snarls, “Totally uncalled for, you little bitch. Do it again and I'll fucking drown you,” he growls, his eyes glinting; all the while trying to ignore the fierce ache in his knee.

Collected from Arsaga:

“I… since Togi doesn't have its own high school, I spent much time in Njoty, as… an outsider… in all senses of the word,” he begins, trying desperately to keep his voice level and not skip out of facts in the process. “I wanted…” he trails off at this point, unable to continue for long moments. “…a little bit of respect,” he finally whispers.

Dakarai takes a deep breath, finally finding the inner courage to continue speaking, regardless of how painful it is for him. “Early in twothousand-and-five, I decided I would try to… I would try to show them my worth by completing the gym circuit. I… prepared…” - He twitches abruptly. - “…myself by reading many books on the subject and informing myself about various… related technologies. On the fourteenth of May, I…” Again, his words catch in his throat - and now he whimpers in protest, though to no avail.

His eyes open slowly, revealing that the swirl of green has slowed and dimmed, making way for a strange emptiness. His voice continues, flimsily: “On the fourteenth of May, twothousand-and-five, I gathered several utensils together to begin working on a project I thought would help me attain my goal swiftly and efficiently. I completed it on the… twenty-ninth of September, twothousand-and-five. The result of my efforts was… a weapon… which… unfortunately… is still in use today.”

“On October the thir-” - “Aren't you forgetting something?” Jagdish interrupts Dakarai's roll, his grip twitching against his scalp. - “…m'lord?” Dakarai asks, his voice sounding utterly drained. - “Shouldn't you be a little bit more specific?” - Dakarai winces, his shoulders sagging a little. “…the device… - weapon… was - is - a whip,” he manages to say, with surprisingly little effort, shame tingling across the entirety of his body. He shifts his head slightly in Jagdish's grip, before taking an audible breath and continuing: “On the third of October, I set out to begin, and spent approximately a week capturing and strengthening pokémon around Mount Black.”

“On the eighth of November, in the late evening, I returned to Njoty and battled for and won the Path badge. On the ninth of November, I reached Nahla, and battled for and won the Dust badge. On the tenth of October, I reached Nightclaw and battled for and won the Glin-” - “You can summarise,” Jagdish sneers abruptly, interrupting Dakarai again. - “…m'lord?” Dakarai asks, his voice trembling. - “I assure you,” the gymleader remarks, icily. “It won't be mistaken for a brag.” His fingers flex through Dakarai's hair almost soothingly for a moment. - Dakarai swallows once more, before continuing: “…I progressed one gym a day and reached Taqnateh on the sixteenth of November, twothousand-and-five. I battled, and…” he trails off again, before shaking his head despite the grip on it. “M'lord, please?”

Jagdish pats Dakarai on his right shoulder, before regarding Raiko and telling him, simply: “It's a little wonder of technology that bundles the energies of pokémon types into [its three strands], selectably.” Then he chuckles, before pulling Dakarai's head to the side and tracing his fingertips, one each, down the marks left by Marcus' attack. “It hurts. A lot,” he says, simply, his voice thick with venom.

“Now, continue,” Jagdish snaps at Dakarai, pulling his head back slightly again, but without restricting his ability to swallow easily. - Dakarai whimpers softly, before whispering: “On the sixteenth of November, twothousand-and-five, I battled for the Astral badge in Taqnateh… and I won the battle.” His eyes drift closed, his last words having been barely audible.

“Nuh-uh,” the gymleader snaps. “You forget, Raiko is new here, treat him like a tabula rasa, waiting for your paintbrush to fill him with knowledge,” he says in a venomously yet saccharine sing-song tone. Dakarai whimpers, trying to cringe away from him slightly - and it prompts Jagdish to straighten and glance across at Raiko, sighing softly, as though dealing with a defiant little child. “The gym battle up here is designed to be unbeatable, Mr. Zelenka,” he tells Raiko. “Trainers wager their lives, possessions and pokémon in return for the Astral badge… perhaps they think that it is a test of courage?”

“I have won many lives in those battles, Mr. Zelenka. Losing is not usually part of our routine up here… but Dakarai here surpassed our expectations of cruelty.” He lets his fingers flex rhythmically against Dakarai's head, like a hypnotic, soothing massage. “Needless to say we couldn't let him go, not after all of that. He was quite… unique.”

“Since then, Dakarai has been our little experiment,” the gymleader remarks. “He was trying to fool us, you see,” he says, with a note of heavy sadness entering his voice - it's not a mocking one. “He understood quickly… very quickly, because he had focussed so hard on his little share of pride that he was well aware of it. He never wanted to be cruel - he just never realised it. And he's a bright lad,” he coos. “I think he understood it the moment we said, 'Dakarai N'Sehla, you are charged with excessive cruelty to your pokémon,' he knew, he knew what he'd done right there and then,” his voice drops to a whisper. “But he's a good actor, aren't you, my boy?”

“He pushed us to come up with the worst things we could possibly imagine. He was, of course, sentenced to death - so many that come up here are, after all, it's unfortunate, but wholly fair.” He chuckles a little, leaning down to kiss one of Dakarai's brows, before straightening again. “After eight days… - because, while sentenced to death, that was to come last, and he had a while to go - after eight days, I caught on, by chance… and I asked him, Dakarai, you silly boy… you're hurting yourself, you're making it worse for you, so much, much worse… why do you do that?”

Dakarai is silently crying by now, tears glittering on his cheeks, soundlessly. - “My sweet boy,” he remarks, softly, sighing slightly, before giving his shoulder a soothing pat. “He's a bright lad - and with that… momentary blindness of his life removed, there was nothing other than purity, do you understand, Mr. Zelenka?” he regards Raiko with a broad, genuinely happy smile, like the smile of someone who's found enlightenment, a twinkle in his eyes. “He thought he was beyond redemption. He was crafting his own punishment… by manipulating us. The little swindling bastard.” He chuckles, last phrase full of fondness.

The gymleader sighs theatrically, before letting go of Dakarai's head. “Well, he was sworn to secrecy, though. He fucked that one up, unfortunately.” His expression darkens noticably. “And every experiment comes with its own terms and conditions. Dakarai, tell me, what did we agree on?” - Dakarai lets his gaze drift down and latch to the ground, his face a frown. “…I live on borrowed time,” he says, simply, his tone neutral, even though he looks shaken and beaten to the core.

He glances aside, his gaze settling down on the ground somewhere, but it's nowhere in particular. “…I knew what I was doing when I broke my vow, Raiko. I don't expect special treatment.” His voice sounds hollow.

Dakarai's glance drifts up to Raiko for a moment, brows twitching as though to say: 'No shit, sherlock,' but without bringing it up. Instead, he sighs softly. “I'm… trying to come to terms with myself, Raiko. Please shut up.” Well, that was quite… frank, even if delivered with strange amounts of earnest care.

Long minutes pass, before Dakarai's shape stirs and he shifts, slowly pushing himself to a sit, strands of hair coming to rest across his forehead, his eyes drifting closed. A moment later, he's pulled his legs up and is resting his arms over his knees. He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out, and he merely shakes his head slightly. “Sorry,” he remarks, softly, the word barely audible.

Knocked back by Raiko's weight and momentum, [Jagdish] snarls reflexively - skidding across the hard stone ground on his back, bringing up one hand to push against Raiko's shape, fingers curling to grab a hold of the fabric of his shirt. But of course it's not that simple - not with Dakarai, and, retrospectively, it was probably to be expected, but the motion still catches Raiko entirely off guard, arms sliding around him with sudden energy, Dakarai's left arm attempting to come to rest against Raiko's throat, right held in parallel to Raiko's, fingers grasping for his wrist to pull it back and against his spine, all in one graceful motion.

There's hesitation, of course - no amount of courage is going to make poisoning oneself easy in a hurry, unless one was truly suicidally inclined, which, despite everything, Dakarai was not. His hands loosely resting on his knees, he flexes them slightly, before squeezing his eyes shut and taking a sip. Eugh, bitter. No surprise there - but a petty part of him wishes for some sugar and berates the man holding the cup for not ceding that courtesy.

“Drink up - unless you're in the mood for a horribly excruciating and drawn-out death, which, well… knowing you…?” Jagdish mocks slightly, fondly. Something about his calmness seems off, as though it weren't natural to him… not right now. He's gentle in tilting the goblet and a frown touches his lips, pulling their corners down into a grimace. A few moments pass, before the last drop rolls from the metal its crafted from, and Dakarai's face contorts in a sour grimace, moving his head to the side, air hissing from him, before he coughs reflexively, twice, loudly. “Fuck,” he mutters, though it's more to himself.

A tremor runs through Dakarai's shape, his hands flexing, and, eyes squeezing shut again, he exhales audibly, in a soft wince. Then he seems to quieten, though, remaining sat as he is… waiting. Arms slide around his shape, pulling him into a loose hug - item discarded with a soft clatter - and Jagdish's gaze shifts to latch onto Raiko, through him, looking quite bitter, his jawline resting against the side of Dakarai's head at height of his cheek bone, holding him silently.

The hug tightens into something like a grip as Dakarai's shape is gripped by a reflexive spasm and the attempt to curl forward and in on himself - a pitiful sound surfaces from him, mixture of gasp and whimper of pain, and he lets himself lean forward, sagging slightly, his right hand rising to rest against the gymleader's back, fingers curling into the fabric of his jacket as though for support. The softest series of whimpers spills from him as he buries his face into the man's shoulder.

Jagdish bites his lower lip with visible force, causing the skin to pale further, his eyes closing as he holds Dakarai's now shivering shape. “Shh,” he says, softly, whispering, his arms pressed against the suffering shape, circled around it supportingly. Could he imagine what he was feeling right now, other than an horrible, all-consuming cold? Not really - especially since it was beyond Dakarai's abilities to say something as trivial as: “It hurts.” It just wasn't part of his vocabulary - but it probably rung true now.

Slowly, very slowly, the trembles subside, defeatedly - he's still breathing, though, a strange calmness setting in, crowding into the remnant of conscious thought as he feels a numbness close in on his shape, pleasant in that it dispells the sensation of stabbing cold. Not finding the energy to speak, his lips move in silence, mouthing 'Thank you,' though he distantly wonders if anyone will ever know what for. Smiling lightly, he decides he has faith that it will be understood, and he lets himself relax.

Arguably, it's not easy for Raiko to tell the last breath for what it is - he's not at an angle to see those subtle motions; but indirectly, it becomes evident as a violent shudder seizes Jagdish's shoulders, travelling down through his arms, them shifting to cling to the lifeless shape, and silent tears of very real grief leak from his eyes, his teeth gritted to force himself into silence, his cheek pressed against Dakarai's head.