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--- character:jagdish-tsukinaka [2013/03/09 20:48] – ...for some reason the part where he doesn't use his real name is not in this profile. FORWHY. *fixed* pinkgothic
+++ character:jagdish-tsukinaka [2017/11/18 21:34] (current) – external edit 127.0.0.1
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 He has the ability to craft matter as long as he doesn't start questioning how, as well as a few potent psychic tricks at his disposal, both of which he puts to use in his role as the Arbiter. Additionally, he has a charisma toward pokémon that he himself finds surreal and disconcerting, as outside of battles, pokémon tend to bestow friendship and trust on him without any cause.
+//See also: [[character:Jagdish Tsukinaka:Abilities|Jagdish's Thornspirit Abilities]]//
 ===== Jagdish as Arbiter =====
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 The most striking feature about his personality, however, is probably just the degree of dominance he exhibits. The furthest he comes to being submissive or humble is a calm, polite, persistently cautious manner explaining a situation - something he would adopt if he were somehow disarmed of his Thornspirit powers and at the hands of an angry mob. He's quick to demand obedience but - perhaps surprisingly - rather unfazed by the lack of getting it without working for it.
-Outside of his 'official' deeds, he has a slight mischievous or fondly mocking streak, and he enjoys taking things literally that shouldn't be taken literally and flaunting his self-confidence with shameless retorts. To strangers, however polite he may appear, he's usually simply cunning and calculating rather than truly empathic (in part simply because he's likely to doomed to outlive any friendships he makes and thus shies away from deeper bonds), and if he detects someone might actually //like// him (to any degree), he's happy to milk it for all it's worth... although, to his partial credit, rarely to anyone's //outright// detriment - the most he'll take advantage of someone tends to be manipulating them to supporting his cause. Since he doesn't ever //drop// whatever act he has, he's not even particularly prone to causing anyone heartache.
+Outside of his 'official' deeds, he has a slight mischievous or fondly mocking streak, and he enjoys taking things literally that shouldn't be taken literally and flaunting his self-confidence with shameless retorts. To strangers, however polite he may appear, he's usually simply cunning and calculating rather than truly sympathetic (in part simply because he's likely doomed to outlive any friendships he makes and thus shies away from deeper bonds), and if he detects someone might actually //like// him (to any degree), he's happy to milk it for all it's worth... although, to his partial credit, rarely to anyone's //outright// detriment - the most he'll take advantage of someone tends to be manipulating them to supporting his cause. Since he doesn't ever //drop// whatever act he has, he's not even particularly prone to causing anyone heartache.
 Another notable aspect of his personality is that he draws few lines between people and pokémon in general, owing to his good understanding of pokémon (able to understand what they're trying to express without fail). He'd apply the same sense of justice to pokémon - if he caught any pokémon being unduly cruel to another or a human being, he'd support a retributive reaction just the same as he does with humans. That's in part why he's Arbiter, actually, and occasionally deserves the title: The Council trial in part exists so legitimate inflicted pain can be distinguished from that which is unjustly inflicted. That being said, Jagdish does know that he has to treat non-Legendary pokémon with the knowledge that they are typically not as mature and lucid as Legendaries and human beings, though there are exceptions.
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 ===== Appearance =====
-{{ :character:jagdish.png?nolink|}}
+{{ :character:jagdish_tsukinaka.png?direct&350|}}
 Jagdish looks very young for his age - roughly two centuries as that is - and would be misjudged to be in his early twenties by most people, which frequently prompts them them to underestimate him, believing him to have acquired his gym leader position recently (the poor fools). He spent some of his early life being deeply bothered by his outward appearance not changing, especially after it left the territory of people jokingly commenting that he's ageing exceptionally well and entered that of 'dude, you're creeping me out'. This is a large part of why he lives in Taqnateh by himself and changes his default grocery foraging locations roughly once every decade. He consider this less an attempt to hide it - he'll be frank about it if asked, even if said frankness will be accompanied by a sour grimace - than he considers it going out of the way of constant awkward human interactions, seeing as he doesn't need any //more// reasons to have issues with his (supposedly) fellow human beings.
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 Jagdish responds coolly and immediately with: "That isn't the question, young lady," which prompts Devi to snort: "Then what is?" Jagdish frowns lightly, peering at the chaotic bundle of clothes and flesh that is Neike and Devi. The silence evidently lingers longer than Devi cares to put up with. "What //is//?" she grunts, head rolling against Neike's chest, tone laced with a defeated air. "Later," Jagdish remarks, casting a bitter smile across at Devi, corrupted result of his attempt to give a friendly answer.
+Collected from [[plot:N'Sehla]]:
+A strong urge to react sits in Jagdish's gut, advising nothing in particular. His stare lingers, posture and expression still mostly frozen as is. He struggles with the expressed notion - viscerally, he wants to walk out of the room and attribute that particular flake of madness to Tatenda, but a far more compelling thought asks him: What have you done, Jagdish, to nurture that misplaced emotion? Taking a slow, deliberate breath, he blinks lightly to snap himself out of his stupor, then addresses Tatenda in a steady tone: "I implore you to listen to me now, because this is important. When I am Arbiter, I am not your friend - nor anybody else's. Do you understand that? I don't meant that question as a threat or in condescension; I want to know, genuinely, if you comprehend the distinction."
+"Respect I understand," Jagdish explains. "Respect I can appreciate," he adds, inclining his head lightly. "But that purgatory doesn't exist for anyone's enjoyment; not yours, not mine."
+It lasts until the door of the cell, when something in Dakarai's fogged skull clicks. He stands still, gaze suspended between an incredulous stare and a venomous glare, anchoring his shoulder against the frame of the door and spacing his feet in physical objection to any further motion. Jagdish pauses, his stride abruptly broken, and narrows his eyes. "Don't you think you've caused enough trouble already?" he asks, bitterly. "It's not that easy to goad me into forgetting about all this, but you're going to rapidly lose the last pitiful fragments of respect I have for you if you make me drag you along by your hair."
+It's about as much of a confirmation of his woes as he needs to bristle. "You want to put me before that mockery of a trial again?" he asks, voice a touch hoarse, tone by proxy missing its intended mark of 'spiteful' and landing somewhere in the vicinity of 'pathetic whine'. - An inhuman growl escapes Jagdish. "I'm giving you five seconds to correct that nonsensical blathering and stop wasting my time."
+"Or else what?" Dakarai comments back, voice firmer now. - In Jagdish's mouth, his tongue's folded down against itself, edges pressed against his teeth, providing itself as a simulacrum of some sort of chewing gum for his jaw to work against. If he was going to lose his patience, this whole thing was just going to be hopeless. A moment later, he tips his head to the side as if to crick his neck, then with stubborn intent lets go of Dakarai's arm, only to grab a hold of his hair, even as he tries to duck to the side. Fingers sunk into those strands he tugs at him. "I give you my heartfelt assurance that I don't give a toss about whether you're doing yourself a disfavour with your antics - but I do very much care whether you waste the time of the legendary Council," he glowers. "And if you honestly feel you deserve worse punishment, then you should care, too - just consider it part of the process. It's certainly the //least// you can do to start undoing some of the //damage// you've done. Man up and shut up."
+Jagdish, having listened to the whole thing with a near-unflinching exterior, arms crossed behind his back and posture meticulously straight, air of a guard in the truest sense of the word, doesn't miss a beat. "What would you like me to do with him in the meanwhile?" Jagdish asks, tone blandly neutral but speech very precise, granting him a cold distance. His gaze drifts down from the legendary and onto Dakarai N'Sehla as he speaks, tinge of venom in the glare he fixes the captive with. What he'd argue and what he'd like to do are certainly different things right now - but it does have the benefit that he's hard to disappoint with any answer.
+Silence reigns for long moments, until Solalon's light is faint enough to suggest him out of earshot. "You have quite a talent, young man," Jagdish comments. His arm unfolds from his torso and both hands rise to gesture finesse, though any 'praise' of his is certainly heavily sarcastic, as evidenced by a dangerous tone and slightly narrowed eyes. "It's like you're streamlined for getting under legendary skin. Is that an inborn trait or was it hard work to refine it to this purity?"
+Jagdish closes his eyes briefly, only to sigh tersely, much as if those closed lids were hiding an eyeroll. "Either way," he comments, before briefly glancing sideways at Yarver in idle concern, as if expecting his friend to intervene in some fashion - but the Vale gymleader is simply watching with a look of distant displeasure, hardly a friend of Dakarai's, hardly trusting the man as far as he can throw him, but with no personal bone to pick. "Either way," Jagdish resumes, glancing back at Dakarai. "It would appear I can do whatever I damn well please with you now. Not that this is strictly news between you and I, I suppose, but it would seem there's a certainly formal necessity to it now." His hands fold infront of him, knitted together in a hover before his chest, one wrist at ninety degree angle, the other held straight. "As it were, I'd like to put this generous decree to use in some fashion that doesn't qualify as arduously //bland//." He exhales audibly, brightening a little. "So I'd like some suggestions. Come up with a way to make yourself useful." A pause, his lips parted as if to continue speaking, is ultimately followed by a grin. "I might even consider some of them."
+"I think he's lacking just a little finesse," Jagdish comments, casually, for the moment staying in the doorframe he's occupied for who knows how long. "Though you seem to be all in one piece, apart from the flecks of blood you've spattered about like crumbs."
+The violently discarded item finds itself in Jagdish's fingers a moment later, weighed against them as if that alone could tell him whether the forceful throw damaged it. It would be regrettably ironic if Vendetta broke it, after all. Jagdish presses his lips to a thin line, eyeing it with what a part of him decides is far too little visceral investment in the matter - then dismisses the very idea with a shrug. A hint of warmth creeps into his expression, gaze softening. A long moment later, he's standing beside Dakarai, exhaling gently, and one end of the device prods at his spine between his shoulderblades lightly, coming to tap against it softly. "And what have we learnt today?"
+That prompts a single syllable of a chuckle to jerk through Dakarai's body, albeit not quite managing to escape. He tips down slightly until he's rested on his elbows rather than his palms and brings his wrists together, leaning his head down to cradle it against them. If he was entirely honest with himself, he still wanted to turn his stomach inside-out, some instinctive part of him convinced that nothing in it right now could possibly be good for his health. "...don't piss off Vendetta?" he offers in half-hearted black humour, tinge of nervousness in the phrase. - That causes a soft laugh to spill from Jagdish, first raising, then setting down the weapon on the table. A bemused but mostly hollow sigh escapes him as he eases himself down into a kneel beside his currently so pitiful possession. His right palm sets down against Dakarai's dully aching shoulder, exerting almost no force at all, simply providing a connection. "True words of wisdom."
+An unfocussed gaze loiters without much motivation on the tiles. "Is he going to be all right?" he asks, a little numbly, grasping at one of the million emotion straws that seem to poking at him now that the overwhelming pain and fear is no longer smothering them. - Jagdish stares down at his unlikely protégé, taking his time to understand what he's saying - and why he would. Then he's tapping one of the device against Dakarai's curved spine again. "Don't slump like that, young man, it'll ruin your posture," he comments, exaggerating a snobbish tone of voice, then tries to catch his gaze without outright leaning down to elbow his way into his view, subtly angling himself and his line of sight to little effect. "...why wouldn't he be?" he asks, worry creeping into his tone.
+A light shrug touches Jagdish's left shoulder. "Maybe you went overboard a little," he offers as a nonchalant compromise. "But even if you did - I own him, on a voluntary basis." Admittedly differently than he would usually, given the little battle mishap, but Dakarai had made it entirely unmistakable by now that he'd signed his life over to him, so that detail barely mattered. "Which is more than he could have ever claimed of his pokémon. And that fine delineation lets me say with confidence and honesty: It's fine, because I say so. You didn't cripple or kill him - which is good, since if you had, I would make you find me a replacement."
+~No, he may not be an idiot, but when it comes to judging the right response to a situation, he seems to have all the skill of a brick,~ he replies. ~But fine, even if it does succeed, all that proves is what you said - that he's not quite moronic enough to make that kind of mistake.~ - "What do you think the right response to getting tortured is?" Jagdish asks, without missing a beat, an almost unbearable curiosity in his eyes.
+"What I'm offering you; what I'm offering the Council and everyone affected by his approximate eight and a few weeks of gratuitous maladjustment and obscenely bad judgement... is to view him as a servant. He's been stripped of all power he has but one: The memory of him. And we can only extinguish that if we let him be something else."
+Uncharacteristically, Jagdish is silent for a moment after Vendetta's asked his question, leaving him alone with the ramifications of what he's said, the quiet tension seeding the tentative beginnings of the answer he's most likely to give in Vendetta's psyche and ushering it into blossom. "I don't //want// anything from you," he says, finally, softly, the emphasis on 'want' subtle but audible. "Least of all forgiveness for what he's done. I certainly won't be doing anything of the sort. However, I do enjoy the situation he's in. There's some poetic justice in making him run around the gym circuit listening to the instructions of the gym leaders until he drops dead from old age - and in the meanwhile, it gives him a lot of time to deconstruct himself." An expression of light concern lets its gaze linger on Vendetta's face, for the moment resisting the urge to do anything about the tears. "I don't in the least mind if you hate him, but I'd much rather you hated him for, say, being a pathetic worm than for being a manifested nightmare; for your sake."
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