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The thin metal cuffs snap shut around Neike's wrists behind her back, and the vaguely whistle-like sound of a chain being threaded through their midsts rings through the forced silence. The moon's waxing crescent hangs in the sky beyond flecks of clouds - they're outside, in a collapsed part of the building. The chain is laced through the cuffs of all four of them, ending tied firmly to a pole. Devi, closest to it, is tugging at it with vigor, chest heaving slightly, her glare latched onto the inanimate object as if it were able to care.

Jagdish steps away from Neike, fingertips tracing her wrists in subconscious attempt to verify that she is not thin enough to slip out of them again, and comes to stand a metre away, staring at the four of them. The breeze of the night tugs at their clothes, softly, subtly, but it's not too cold, only mildly uncomfortably so. He lets his gaze drift across the four of them in scrutiny as though to make sure that they're all properly secured, before finally letting the key to the cuffs slide into his right trouser pocket.

Nikkita flinches and tugs slightly before she is still, head lowering and eyes closing even as a shiver runs through her. An almost inaudible whimper slides from her then but she doesn't protest, tugging a couple of times before she stops, head remaining lowered. Marcus shudders and strains, muscles bulging before he is still, flicking a look to the three girls before leaning across to his sister, peering into her face.

Jagdish closes his eyes, seemingly falling silent, subtly inclining his head. After a long, drawn-out moment, he sighs. “Vendetta,” he says, his voice quiet, seeming almost like a whisper, having no qualities of a summon - but the pokémon appears almost instantly as the last syllable is spoken, rippling into view beside him. “Please tell the others that everything has been set up, will you?” - The purple pokémon shifts a venomous glance across the captives, an approving smirk tugging at the edge of its expression, before it nods to Jagdish in one, single motion, and blinks back out of view.

Nikkita had been looking across at the Gymleader before she flinches and tugs at her wrists once before she is still, silent as her head lowers, eyes closing. She ignores Marcus for now, more concerned about herself. Marcus scowls at Vendetta without that he says anything, before he looks away, expression worried before he glares at his sister. “Will you stop it?” he hisses, before he is silent once more.

It is then that a lithe shape is seen clambering up across the ruined wall, from beyond it in the rocky expanse of the landscape, a dark thing that might as well just be a silhouette, looking as though disproportionate - before one would become aware that it does not seem to be human at all. Even as Neike narrows her eyes trying to make the figure out, though, it seems to shimmer in her vision, blurring at the edges and smearing as dark colour into the environment. She blinks, brows furrowing, shoulders curled forward in a slightly defensive demeanour - and as her vision clears, there is what seems to be a human being, female, long black hair falling in waves behind her, dressed in a gown slitted at the right, causing it to describe beautiful patterns as she moves.

Nikkita blinks as she looks up again, shape twitching as he watches the shape but she doesn't relax as the shape melts into a human shape. She pulls back then, lowering her head further before she whispers, “We should have never have started…” It's almost too low to be heard and she hunches her shoulders. Marcus hears his sister then growls, lowly, flexing his fingers before he turns away, eyeing the figure and running his tongue across his lips.

The woman is pale, with long, delicate fingers, granting her the impression of something of a succubus despite her overall build being quite far removed from vampirically thin. She approaches the four, her stride slowing from an almost familiar flavour of energetic stride to a casual one.

And then she's standing before Neike's end of the chain, straightened exaggeratingly, shoulders pushed back, bright eyes latching onto the girl. Her expression seems chillingly neutral and something about her eyes seems out of place, quasi alien. Jagdish crosses his arms, his fingers sliding to grip his elbows, silent as though perhaps slightly uncomfortable, himself.

Her right hand rises, drifting through the air up to the captive's face, before abruptly snapping from the height of Neike's chest up to her chin, index finger and thumb slid to grip her jaw. It causes Neike to utter a reflexive note of protest, shoulders twitching into a twist, wrists struggling in brief bout to free themselves, before she quietens again, regarding the stranger with widened eyes.

The artificial seeming straightening breaks, melting into a more natural stance before the woman leans forward, left hand rising and sliding into the captive's hair, closing around it in a grip, before tilting her head to seize those lips in an invasive, but surprisingly gentle kiss, the alien eyes closing as though in passionate concentration on the sense of touch.

Nikkita flinches then eyes opening as she looks up before tearing her gaze away and staring at the ground, shame lining her shape as well as fear. She tugs slightly at her wrists before flicking a look to Devi then to Marcus, starting to sit down, her jaw set tightly. Marcus growls and struggles a little before he glares at his sister and growls, head shaking.

Once more in reflex, Neike twitches back - but it's of no consequence, the fingers on her jaw and back of her head holding her still in relation to the kiss. Unsure what to make of it, she lets herself relax wearily, attempting neither to bite nor struggle, but hesitant to return the gesture, too taken by surprise.

The stranger holds the kiss a while longer before her lips drift across Neike's in closing motion, her withdrawing from the kiss, carefully keeping Neike's head where it is in the process. Straightening again - like a caricature of an aristocrat - she finally lets go of Neike's head, her thin brows furrowing, eyes narrowing as if in confusion, before she shoots a glance to Jagdish, bewildered.

After that brief moment of hesitation from that moment of unexplained confusion, a sidestep takes her closer to Marcus, gaze drifting to him as though tracking an invisible object, an eerie motion of the eyes. The back of her left hand brushes against his left shoulder, across the fabric of his shirt, before in abrupt twist and the snap of a wrist her fingers seize his jaw, tip of her index and middle fingers dug against the skin at the left base of his jaw, thumb pushed against the mirrored spot, outer edge of her palm pushing against his chin.

Nikkita watches intently now as she remains standing but she doesn't say a word. *Marcus smirks but warmly, he doesn't struggle now, a soft sound slipping from him before he twitches, eyes glittering. He opens his mouth slightly to say something then closes it again, entranced by the woman's eyes.

Her right hand snaps up to grip Marcus' hair, the pressure slightly uncomfortable against his scalp, but none of the motion painful. She regards him almost with suspicion for a moment, her tonguetip, trapped between taut lips, travelling across the same as though thoughtful, before she leans forward, her eyes drifting closed, lips brushing across his, then pushing against them, trying to coax him to respond and allow for the intrusion of her tongue.

Marcus gasps a soft note, parting his lips to allow her tongue's entry, his eyes half closing. He strains slightly at his wrists then is still, pressing his lips to hers, gently though as a soft sound of need slips from him. He flushes crimson but doesn't pull away.

The stranger deepens the kiss as he allows for it, tongue swirling around the inside of his mouth, touching his tongue, her eyes closed still. The kiss is delicious in all senses of the word - but even Marcus would likely pick up that there is no passion behind it. It simply seems like a well-practised gesture. A long moment later, her swirling tongue slows, and her left hand drops from his jaw, letting it go, even as she slowly withdraws from the kiss. Her right hand is still fisted into his hair, though, making it impossible for him to prolong the kiss.

Marcus almost purrs then flinches as she pulls back, eyes opening fully then narrowing. Tugging at his wrists, he tears his gaze away, flicking his tongue over his lips. He remains silent though, unease running through him.

Her expression has reverted to that neutral expression that seems so eerily unnatural, colour swirling at the edges of her irides, alien. After a moment of that uncomfortable scrutiny resting upon his body, she frowns lightly, before drifting her gaze to Nikki and stepping to the side toward her, coming to stop immediately in front of her. Her right hand rises to grip her jaw, left sliding across the top of her head like in gentle caress and through her hair before gripping it, holding her head still. Eyelids sliding shut to hide the creepiness of those eyes, she tilts her head, pressing her lips to a thin line briefly, before brushing them sensually across hers.

Nikkita blinks slowly then gasps softly as her hair is stroked through but she doesn't move, holding perfectly still, her lips parted slightly before her eyes drift closed as she is kissed. No sound escapes her and doesn't move either but to breathe. She blinks, without that she opens her eyes, her shape relaxed. *Marcus trembles and struggles a little with himself and his wrists before he is still and silent.

The kiss deepens, the stranger's tongue swirling around her mouth with a strange gentleness, like a caress from the inside, heavenly, almost perfect. Too perfect. It persists for a long moment, the tongue probing at the entirety of her mouth - or so it seems - before finally withdrawing, hands sliding away from her head again. She straightens back into the semblance of an aristocrat, peering 'down' at Nikki, gaze sliding across her shape in bothersome scrutiny.

Nikkita gasps softly, a soft sound slipping from her and although she doesn't struggle, her fingers flex slightly. When the woman pulls away she blinks, eyes opening and tilts her head slightly, smiling though faintly, her tongue running across her lips as her jaw trembles. She looks away then and down slightly; respectfully.

The stranger steps sideways toward Devi, rolling her left hand as if the wrist had a single socket, before flexing her fingers into a curl, closing them against her palm, regarding Devi with curiosity. The captive girl is pressed with her right shoulder against the metal pole the chain is tied to, grimacing, glaring without much conviction at the stranger, wariness lining her body, a tremble of distaste running through her left shoulder.

Giving her head a slight shake, the stranger approaches, eliciting something of a hiss from the captive girl - and a moment later, surprisingly strong fingers have seized Devi by the hair - and throat, squeezing slightly, almost threateningly, as the lady leans toward her and seizes her lips in a kiss.

Nikkita flinches but doesn't say a word, shape sagging slightly as she lets her eyes roll closed. Her fingers flex and she leans slightly against Marcus, breathing softly, shape remaining relaxed. Marcus growls a note then calms as his sister leans against him, him smirking down at her fondly, resting his chin on he hair lightly as he murmurs wordlessly to her.

It is obvious Devi is protesting - a sound of discontent surfaces from her, her wrists pulling the chain taut and trying to pull herself back and out of this strange embrace - but it's ultimately futile, the kiss deepening, causing her to shiver slightly in what is no doubt revulsion. It isn't the kiss that bothers her - it is the motivation behind it, or rather: The lack of transparency in that regard. She sags as thought relieved as the kiss breaks again, lips parted, grimacing in bizarre ways, as though hoping to expel a taste from her mouth - not that she has been left with anything but a memory of the event.

The stranger has risen again, straightened, shoulders pushed back, spine describing a graceful, shallow arch. She steps back away from the group, aura thinning slightly, allowing them to pay attention to the room again, revealing the soft flicker of a warm fire glinting across a sculpture of ice, and a dark shadow cast beside a pure, white, friendly glow, with a crackle of static electricity at short distance, all at the edge of the room, figures, crouched casually at a distance, shaped of bird-like qualities. And if they paid closer attention, they would see the source of fire is Fyrrcla, whom they had run into in Mount Black - and the white creature radiating light reminds of the phenomenom in Vereheq.

From the luminescent pokémon a glance is cast their way, bright eyes swirling with a bothersome amount of intelligence, its features warped to smirk lightly, but not all too nastily, almost as though there were a hint of pity in its demeanour - at least for now. The woman folds her hands loosely against each other, grimacing, letting her gaze drift testingly over the four captives. Silence reigns for a long moment of contemplation, her expression warping slowly but surely into one of contempt.

She raises her right hand, delicate fingers stretching, and a faint veil of colour seems to swirl in helix from her fingers, back up across her arm, engulfing her shape in another blurring, melting her appearance surprisingly abruptly into that of a raptorian, scales a dark violet that almost pass for black, silvered, labyrinthine patterns of highlights across them, bright eyes latching onto Marcus as she gestures at him, wavey, dark plum feathers falling about her neck. ~That one,~ she gestures to him, arm straight and outstretched, before twisting it as it travels to point at Devi. ~And that one,~ she remarks, darkly, into the minds of all four captives, as well as - evidently - Jagdish's. ~Which of them battled you first?~

Nikkita trembles, not making a sound and she cringes, backing slightly but she doesn't raise her gaze. Swallowing hard, she tugs at her wrists before she is still again, staring down at her feet. *Marcus snarls lowly, venomously, a shudder ripping through him as he tugs at his wrists before he is still and silent. He rubs his face against his shoulder then.

“The boy,” Jagdish remarks, almost tonelessly. The slender muzzle of the dark raptorian snaps to point at Marcus' shape. Her irides are still framed by gold, arcing streaks, mingled with silver. ~Him, then,~ she remarks, inclining that muzzle, stare unrelenting. Jagdish steps to behind the row of captives, his own slender fingers fishing for the key, retrieving it with a soft tinker of metal, before sliding it into Marcus' cuffs… but not turning. “Know that if you assault me, I guarantee you will make things worse for yourself,” he whispers, eyes narrowed slightly. He does not wait for a sign of acknowledgement, the key grating in the lock as it snaps open, releasing Marcus' hands from the cuffs. ~Come forward,~ the raptorian with the labyrinthine, silvery patterns demands, stood still where she is.

Marcus holds perfectly still, scolwing but he doesn't struggle. As he is released he steps forwards, without that he says a word, holding himself tall, muscles coiled. He flicks a look over his shoulder to the three girls and allows a smirk to graze across his face before it's gone.

~Come here,~ the raptorian remarks, gesturing with both forepaws - palms loosely pointed at each other - to the space immediately before it. Jagdish watches the scene, his shape tense, his demeanour one of alertness - mistrust of Marcus, or just standard behaviour?

Marcus remains silent but obeys, his entire shape tense. His brow furrows but he still doesn't make a sound, hand curling and uncurling, fingers flexing. He certainly doesn't want to make things worse than they are. A shiver runs through him and he lowers his head.

~Kneel,~ she commands, simply, reptilian expression unchanged, seeming neither icy nor warm, just as though suspended between determinable facial expressions. Alien, still, even now in her true form.

Marcus scowls darkly, uttering a very soft sound, clearly irritated but he doesn't protest, dropping to his knees, resting his hands on them, staring up at her, head tilted. He tears his gaze away then, eyes narrowed, almost refusing to look at her.

The raptorian watches Marcus as he obeys the command, silent for a moment after the completion of the motion, before nodding once and shifting its gaze across to Jagdish, its jaw set. ~Come forward,~ she addresses him, though yet again the words are audible to everyone. Open conference, so to speak. Jagdish, his hands resting across each other behind his back, dips his shoulders in something of a bow, before stepping past Neike and toward the raptorian until he is standing beside her. “Marcus Arsaga,” he remarks, his features grave, brows furrowed in mixture of contempt and pity. “You are charged with cruelty to your pokémon. It is our duty and purpose to determine the full extent of your cruelty - and then punish you accordingly. You have lost your right to your life and belongings as by the battle with me - your pokémon were taken from you immediately following Devi Ravi's battle. Do you acknowledge our right to do with you however we please?”

Marcus flinches, then nods. “I do.” His voice is a whisper. He may be stubborn and otherwise pig-headed and perhaps even an idiot, but he knows when he is in the wrong. His fingers flex but he doesn't move or say a word, head lowered.

“Splendid,” Jagdish remarks, tone touched by a dark, biting cynicism. “I would ask if you plead guilty or innocent, but this isn't a court, per se, and I'm not in the mood for the fakely formal nonsense,” he remarks, grimacing down at Marcus. “But have you anything to say in response to the charges?”

Marcus shudders, silent for long moments before he speaks. “I do not deny them… I have no more to say,” he whispers, voice cracking. He rubs at his face then but doesn't move otherwise nor say anything further.

Jagdish slides his gaze sideways at the pokémon as though to denote perplexity. Grimacing slightly, he falls silent, giving his head the slightest shake. ~You are to explain to us first what you have done, secondly why you have done it, and thirdly whether you recognise it as a transgression and crime,~ the raptorian commands, its eyes swirling with colour. Well… that would take a long while if done properly, but he didn't exactly have much of a choice.

Marcus sags, breath leaving him in a soft breath. “I used pokémon to battle my way to this place because I wanted respect and to prove to people that I could be somebody…” He trails off and flicks a look to the three girls then away again. “I failed in that I think.” Swallowing hard, he ponders the last part of what the raptorian said, his nose wrinkling. “Yes, now I realise the error of my ways… I do.” He shudders a little more, his thoughts drifting to the large Mewtwo and although he doesn't show it, he's terrified.

~That is the general accusation brought forth against you, human. You are to supply details. Failing that, we will supply them, and we are not lacking in evidence,~ the raptorian tells Marcus' knelt shape. Devi, meanwhile, is half clung to the pole, glaring across at the scene, silent because Marcus seems to be accepting the situation - and it is first and foremost his choice.

Marcus scowls. “I first started the Gym Circuit some time ago. I got to the fourth or fifth Gym then gave up. My sister became interested recently and I started again. I lost a couple of times to gyms I'd already beaten but that's fine. I lost a pokémon or two…” He sighs softly.

“I battled with the pokémon I had as hard as I could, using any means necessary to win. I did not care about the pokémon I used as much as I should have done. I realise that now.” He falls silent, shivering. Nikki flinches and curls in on herself, at least mentally, her eyes closing.

The pokémon inclines its head as though waiting for him to continue. Finally, convinced that Marcus was not about to continue unprompted, it 'speaks': ~You did not care as much as you feel you should have done - elaborate. How have you treated your pokémon?~

Marcus flinches, almost cowering, but not quite. “I treated them harshly. I used fear to control them and anger. They… were scared of me…” he shivers somewhat, smiling wryly at himself. “I thought at the time, that they were just …uhm…” He shifts uneasily. “There for using in battles.” He trails off.

~Define 'harshly',~ the pokémon demands, simply, sliding its forepaws to rest against each other, fingers of the forepaws interweaving. If it seems bothered by the things Marcus is saying, it is not showing it - but then, it had mentioned having plenty of evidence, so it no doubt knows all answers to its questions already, and is thus prepared.

Marcus actually cringes. “If one of them didn't do as they were told I would hurt them in some way, not enough to impede them moving or battling, just enough that it would give them a shock…” He pauses. “The one I treated the worst was Henge…” he shivers. “He obeyed me out of fear…”

Apparently, the idle torment does not stop there. ~Define 'hurt',~ the psychic pokémon demands, staring down at Marcus with unmoving expression. ~Tell us what you have done.~

Marcus cringes, making himself smaller or trying to do so. In a broken voice he whispers: “I would hit them, or throw things at them like sticks, or stones… or soak them with water.” He knows that he could attempt to hide it, but that would make things worse which he doesn't want. “In Henge's case I would stick smaller stones into him.”

This seems to elicit a pause and silent shifting from the figures on the side of the collapsed walls of the room, a soundless commotion. The pokémon with the labyrinthine pattern on its skin inclines its head as though considering something spoken, or perhaps non-verbally participating in a small discussion. After that moment's pause, it snaps its gaze back toward Marcus, nodding once in acknowledgement. ~I presume you were fully aware that you were causing pain?~

Marcus nods. “I was,” he croaks, shame filling him and he doesn't look up, shape shuddering. He doesn't say anything though, ignoring any sound from his sister should she make any. Nikki remains silent, rooted to the ground in shock.

~Please explain to us, then, why you ever deemed it a good idea to indulge in these particular actions,~ the pokémon prompts, shifting its weight subtly once it has 'spoken' its words, though that expression still seems as though carved in stone.

Marcus shudders a little more. “I don't know why I did ever thought that it was a good idea to do so. I just thought that it was the way to go in being…” He cringes. “…a trainer,” he adds in a broken voice, lowering his head and upper body further.

~How did you come by that perception?~ the pokémon continues its inquiry, obviously not fazed by his 'I don't know' escapade. Jagdish, meanwhile, seems amused, as though by saying 'I don't know' Marcus had hit some secret code for something all too hilarious - likely a pandora's box.

Marcus swallows hard then and raises his gaze to the raptorian. “I'd seen other people who had pokemon treat them harshly for the slightest misdemeanor and I thought that was the way it should be if a person was a trainer. It's different if the person has pokémon and they aren't a trainer…” he trails off, lowering his gaze again.

~Did you not deem it necessary to reflect on actions of such severity?~ the pok<E9>mon inquires. Uh-oh… that definitely sounds like thin ice right there, even if the demeanour of the raptorian has still not changed. Jagdish's arms are crossed before him, his gaze boring into Marcus, too, an uncomfortable scrutiny.

Marcus cringes silently before he shakes his head, not saying a word. Back bowed he shivers then grits his teeth, summoning up some of his strength before he raises his head, a snarl curling his lips. “No.” His voice shakes though and he lowers his gaze.

The simple and almost aggressive answer elicits a snort from the pokémon - and its eyes narrow perceptibly. The sudden hint of defiance in the human was unexpected - though at least he had answered simply and, as it seemed, truthfully. Still, she glances sideways toward Jagdish - perhaps asking in help from the human to read the body language of this captive?

Jagdish grimaces lightly. “Mind your manners,” he says, softly, wording it almost like a suggestion. “Patience runs a little thin with my friends. You're expected to treat them with respect.”

Marcus shudders then nods, lips curling in a silent snarl. “I understand.” It's almost hissed but there is respect there. His fingers flex a little and he glares up at the Gymleader, eyes narrowed before lowering his head again.

The pokémon with the labyrinthine silver patterns across its dark skin keeps its sideways glance latched onto Jagdish for a moment longer, hesitating as though to make sure that the differences have been resolved and the situation has been cleared up in favour of 'order in the court', so to speak. Content, she turns her muzzle to stare back at Marcus, piercing back into his mind psychically to continue: ~Do you commonly mimic your peers without second thought?~

Marcus is silent for long moments. “If what they do and say as well as wear seems to make sense and seems to be a good idea? Yes.” He smirks faintly then looks away. “I wear the latest fashions, because that's what most humans do. I do whatever I wish in what ever manner I wish because I…” He pauses, shock flowing over his face. “I succumb to peer pressure…” He is silent then, blinking slowly.

Silence. It threatens to become awkward and crushing, the combined stares of the dark raptorian and the Taqnateh gymleader oppressive - before it is finally broken by Jagdish, even as a slight stirring can be perceived in the 'audience' in the back of the room, or whatever the purpose of the other creatures there may be. They've been silent so far, as though uninvolved, but the one who does speak seems to confer with them in private every once in a while - like a translator, perhaps? “Do you believe that a human being is commonly to be held responsible for their actions?”

Marcus swallows hard then sits back, head and upper body raised again. “Every living thing is responsible for its own actions and whatever may come of those actions.” He smirks then, pushing a hand through his hair, rolling his shoulders slightly.

Jagdish utters a soft sigh, leaning forward slightly, clasping his hands onto his knees in half a crouch to lean closer to Marcus' face. “Don't you think that's a bit of a… self-destructive combination to live by?” he asks, right brow quirked a touch. “To be responsible for your choices, but not really make them yourself?” he asks, voice almost a whisper, almost as though this were a private conversation somehow, though of course it is far removed from such.

Marcus exhales. “I made the choices myself that brought me here. Nobody forced me into them. If I have to suffer for them I will. It's the way it goes.” He pauses. “Yes, it's a dangerous combo. But if I am not responsible for my choices and actions then who is?” He tilts his head eyeing the other man.

“Perhaps you should have given them a little more thought,” Jagdish remarks, right hand risen to tap at his own right temple with the tips of index and middle finger, his eyes widening in gesture of enlightenment. Straightening again, he takes a step back, returning Marcus' personal space to him. ~How many pokémon battles have you fought in your life?~ The voice has returned, inquisitive, tone slightly altered, as though adopting a different subject.

Marcus scowls darkly then stares down at his hands. “How many roughly? Or how many exactly?” he asks, sounding defeated even as he smirks. His fingers flex and he pushes one hand through his hair, shoulders twitching. “I don't know how many. I have lost count.”

A soft snort comes from the dark-scaled pokémon, eyes narrowing to thin slits, it adopting an air of impatience, malice and threat. ~I suggest you estimate, then, human.~ Especially touchy subject, is it?

Marcus half cringes. “Roughly thirty. Maybe a couple more or a couple less.” His fingers flex and his smirk fades as he stares at the ground, gritting his teeth. He shifts, almost uneasily then but doesn't say anything else.

A low rumble of discontent surfaces from the creature, a soft hiss following as it takes a step toward Marcus' knelt shape, a change to its mostly statue-like behaviour, snapping its forepaws up to seize him by the shoulders, claws sinking into the fabric. Its long neck is curved gracefully, snout brought down to level of his face. ~I do not speak merely of battles with other trainers, human. How often have you sent 'your' pok<E9>mon into battle?~ - Jagdish, kneading his right hand's fingers into the palm of his left, grimaces lightly at the change, shooting a glance to the other legendaries as though silently asking for a bit more patience in the matter, as to not drag this entire ordeal ad absurdum.

Marcus scowls and snaps, “Roughly between 20 and 30 times.” He sounds irritated. His eyes narrow and he looks away, not saying anything further, his anger starting to reach boiling point. Swallowing hard, he curls his fists then relaxes then, forcing himself to calm down.

In careful gesture, lips taut, pressed to a thin line, Jagdish slides his left arm between the psychic pokémon and the human, back of his forearm pushing at the creature so it will back away - convinced to do so, the pokémon abruptly lets go of Marcus' shoulders, taking a step back, though its eyes flare with colour. ~You arrived here on Taqnateh with eighteen pokémon, after at least seven gym battles and an initial three - those are twenty-eight battles minimum, and you honestly wish to tell me that you have never failed a capture or battled to raise skill?~

Marcus exhales and says: “I said roughly. I can't remember how many times I've battled in my entire life.” He stiffles a soft sound and adds: “No I have failed a gym a couple of times and failed captures.” He flexes his fingers, eyeing his coiled fists. “So I will correct myself since you are of the mind that I am wrong - No disrespect intended.” He pauses. “I have battled some what roughly between 20 and 40 times.”

Jagdish raises his hand to the pokémon as though asking it to wait with further dialogue. Brows furrowed, he crouches beside Marcus, demeanour casual, if a bit worried about something. After a long moment of silent scrutiny, almost enough to prompt saying anything just to fill it, he shifts his glance to the side, toward the legendary. “Confer with the others, I think you have all your answers.” Said, his right hand finds the ground and pushes him back into a stand.

Marcus lowers his head and whispers: “I'm not proud of mysef but at least I did not try to hide anything.” It's directed at the Gymleader and this said, Marcus doesn't say another word, rubbing at his face with both hands. Remaining silent, he flicks a look over his shoulder at the girls then smiles, very faintly as he looks away again.

“You have a strange definition of 'hide', I'll say that much,” Jagdish remarks, glancing at Marcus patronisingly, his expression half a sneer. Maybe the pokémon's earlier words about evidence would occur to Marcus right about now - but how would they know how often he battled unless they had seen all of them somehow or asked his pokémon for estimates of their own? And surely his pokémon couldn't communicate numbers even if they understood a question like that?

Marcus scowls a bit, eyes narrowed before he opens his mouth to say something as he glares at the other man. Closing his mouth again without saying a word he shakes his head, avoiding looking at 'Mictian' out of sheer disliking. Eyeing his hands again, he stretches then, his knees starting to ache. “May I stand?” he asks the Gymleader, his voice cold. “Please.”

The casual air drops from the gymleader so abruptly that its motion seems to cross Marcus as a chill. “You will remain as you are until a decision has been felled,” he narrows his eyes, his own patience with what he considers a two-faced bastard at end. “Be glad I've not asked you to do a handstand.”

Detaching from the group of elementals is the slightly luminescent creature, enveloped in what seems to be an ethereal air, plume soft and seemingly so light that the soft breezes tug at it with ease. Pupil-less eyes latch onto Marcus as it approaches, striding around him in a circle as though perhaps sizing up a meal, wielding a grace that seems unusual for something of its proportions. Muzzle quizzically inclined, it pauses once to his right, slightly behind him, demeanour one of curiosity. Almost hesitantly, it raises its left paw toward his hair, sliding it through the strands to grab a hold of them relatively gently - before pressing the tip of its right forepaw's index claw against a spot against his scalp, the pinprick almost painful as it persists. Its glance seems to be lingering on the psychic pokémon now.

A strange sensation travels across Marcus' senses - it feels like a underbelly of a snake might be dragging itself across his mind, the sensation definitely sub-scalp, seemingly deeper than the bone of his skull, grazing that which should have no sense of touch itself. As the 'touch' finds the spot gestured to, it warps into the likeness of a hot needle, lancing through his mind, eliciting a wince - though it's fortunately a very brief pain, dissipating almost as swift as his senses have picked up on it in the first place.

Marcus doesn't say a word, eyes closing as his lips skim back from his teeth slightly. He doesn't move though, but to breathe, hair toppling over his tense face, jaw tightening. He shifts slightly then but not in an attempt to stand as the pokemon paces around him and he doesn't even flinch at the claw against his scalp. Although, feeling burning almost pain he flinches, head lowering, neck arching.

The touch of his mind seems to recede, fading into nothingness, and the white-scaled, faintly luminescent raptorian lets go of his head, only a touch slower than would suggest it were the reflexive answer to being taken aback. Its muzzle moves in a nod and the circular stride resumes - it returning to the rest of the creatures sat at a distance, staring toward Marcus.

Her eyes sparkling with that eerie, alien life, the psychic pokémon's gaze is upon Marcus, the most of her once more unmoving, only those eyes swirling their colour slightly, granting the bizarre appearance of both careful scrutiny and an empty, absent-minded glance, simultaneously. Abruptly, latter clears, flecks of gold coming to a stop at the edges of her irides. ~Human, you are sentenced to experience the pain you have inflicted upon your pokémon, both wittingly and unwittingly - and to death for former.~

Marcus shudders then exhales, swallowing hard and he doesn't raise his head, even as his eyes drift closed. “I'm sorry, Mum,” he whispers, almost too low to be heard. He drags both hands through his hair then, his eyes opening slightly but he doesn't raise his head nor say anything else.

Nikkita sobs very softly and struggles before she sags, her head bowed, tears pouring down her face as she closed her eyes as tight as she could.

Devi's fingers curl around the chain threaded through her cuffs, gripping it in subconscious motion, knuckles whitening - she leans forward, hiss-snarling, as the 'sentence' is spoken, taking a step forward in energetic stride before the restraints automatically yank her back. Straining against it, she throws out toward Jagdish and the psychic legendary: “He does not recognise the right of your farce of a court to try him.” Her nose wrinkles in silent snarl, eyes seeming to glow with anger. Marcus had said he accepted it, of course - but that wasn't going to stop her from her complaint, evidently.

From the other end of the chain, Neike winces, biting down on the fleshy inside of her lower lip, forcing herself to silence, conflicted, her gaze glittering, cast into some nirvana of thought despite seemingly darting about as though seeking something.

Jagdish glances across to Devi, turning to face her slightly, regarding her tensed shape most quizzically. “He wagered his life, he lost it, I own him now - but that aside, he has recognised the right of this court to pass sentence.” He shoots the question back over his shoulder, glance following: “Haven't you, Marcus?”

Marcus shudders but doesn't comment for long moments. “I have but that doesn't mean to say I like it.” His voice is low as he adds: “I see now that training pokémon like I did was wrong…” He flicks a look to Devi then as he continues. “The way it is done by any human that gets this far is wrong.” He lowers his head further, ignoring Nikki. - The girl whimpers, wordlessly straining at her wrists, leaning towards her big brother.

Jagdish gives a slight shrug as Marcus remarks not liking the outcome, narrowed eyes casting a glare across at Devi as though daring her to raise her voice again - which she promptly does. “Marcus, they just 'sentenced' you to death, you're just going to stay there and take it?!” she utters in half a shriek, pulling at the chain - probably nearly knocking Nikki forward in the process.

Marcus shivers. “What else can I do?” he asks quietly, pushing himself to his feet, slowly. “If I fight it there will be more pain.” He swallows hard, taking a step towards the girls, his head tilted slightly before he flicks a look to the Gymleader. “Do they have to watch the torture?” he asks, almost pleadingly. - Nikki whimpers as she almost falls as Devi yanks at the chain. “Marcus…” she whispers, without that she says anything else.

The response is an eyeroll from the gymleader, light though it may be. “We shall see, Mr. Arsaga,” he remarks - gesturing simply to his spot on the chain, though discontent that Marcus rose without being thusly prompted. He was carrying himself with far too much unreality, that boy - as though he weren't entirely aware of the situation he was in, not yet.

An animalistic snarl is wrenched from Devi's gut as she yanks at the chain again, her eyes narrowing. “There will be none. Who do you think you are?” she demands, a hint of despair at the edges of her otherwise gruff and domineering voice… one who is bound in chains is not in much of a position to argue, after all. A sudden thought, almost out of nowhere, tangent, but demanding her attention, demanding to be voiced: “What about that person who beat you, hm, did you let him go then, if he didn't lose his life to you?” A hunch?

Nikkita looks up then blinks. “Devi, I'd…” she whispers through her tears. She trails off and looks away as Marcus walks over to her and wraps her in a hug before he lets her go and stands with his hands behind his back again, not looking at anyone, his eyes closing. Nikki's hands flex and she leans against her brother's shape but she remains silent.

It hits its mark - hard. Jagdish's eyes drift closed as he battles for inner calm. The combination of sorrow and a certain amount of shame is not easily handled - the pain of Dakarai's death is still fresh, dug into him and twisting like the blade of a dagger. He skips a breath, a tremble running through and down his left shoulder. Words, words… what to say? Only the slighest hint of a tremble in his tone betrays his hesitation: “That is none of your business.”

Devi glares across at him. “Let me guess, no difference? You don't care if people win or lose, winning is just too rare to make a fuss out of it? You want excuses, do you? You have no right to do anything with Marcus. Let him go.”

Marcus flinches but doesn't say anything then rubs at his eyes, looking quizzically at his sister. He opens his mouth to say something then closes it again without uttering a word. - Nikki's head shakes, eyes narrowed, brow furrowed. “I would like Marcus free too Devi… but… we three… we… did wrong…” Her voice shakes and she is silent, looking up at 'Mictian', silently, gnawing at her lower lip.

Devi grits her teeth, hissing out: “Even if so, I sure as hell won't let him judge it.” She's throwing the words venomously toward Jagdish, ignoring the strain her own weight is putting into the joins of her arms against the chain. ~Enough.~ The mental voice is a harsh rumble, demanding attention. ~Cease this petty bickering or I will silence you.~

Nikkita cringes and backs away, her head lowering. She shivers then, almost softly sobbing again and Marcus leans against her slightly, trying to soothe her. He glares at Devi then smiles, sadly. There is so much he wants to say to her but he just can't find the words to even start.

Jagdish stares blankly at the wall behind the captives, silently gnawing upon his lower lip, beginning to regret his decision to have them witness each others' 'trials'. He had evidently underestimated the Togi girl - the others were behaving themselves and conducting themselves with respect, but what a mouthful of sass she was. It was worse because it was intelligent.

“Well?” Devi narrows her eyes, relaxing her arms slightly by shifting her weight back a bit, them pulled less taut in the process. - ~Perhaps you did not understand me, human - be silent,~ the psychic legendary hisses into their collective minds, though addressing Devi. - “I will not listen to you,” Devi throws a glare across to the pokémon.

Marcus shifts uneasily but doesn't say anything, flexing his fingers a bit as he flicks a look to Devi then to 'Mictian' before glancing across to the pokémon. Unbidden, his lips curls slightly before he looks away again, staring at his sister before offering her his shoulder, before recuffing himself, head lowering in shame. - Nikki shivers, cringing a little, drying her face on Marcus' shoulder as he offers it.

~You will-~ - “Let her talk to me if she so desires,” Jagdish interrupts the beginning of that communicative thought, his voice level, laced with a certain coldness. His gaze remains distant, however, latched onto the wall still. - Devi narrows her eyes, features briefly touched by a smirk of victory - but she knows it is a small one and there is no point in lingering on it, so it does not last long. “So I've hit a nerve and you can't admit it?” she asks, her voice surprisingly gentle in tone, almost as if she were honestly trying to understand. A stray strand of her dark red hair rests across her right cheek, like a dark line splitting her face.

Marcus is silent now, eyes closed, he's trying to shut out what's going on around him now, realisation dawing on him but he doesn't make a single sound. - Nikki shivers a little, her head buried in her brother's side as a tremble runs through her. She is listening but she doesn't say a word.

Silence lingers for a moment - but as Devi moves to speak again, he raises his left hand in objection, shaking his head. “Dakarai N'Sehla was an experiment. Let us leave it at that,” he remarks, forcing himself into adopting a professional air, trying to remain calm.

Nikkita flinches and swallows hard, without that she says anything, her head almost hidden in her brother's shape as she shivers. - Marcus flicks a look to Devi and Neike then half glares at 'Mictian' without that there's any true anger in it. He sighs then and shakes his head, mumbling nonsense words to his sister to try and calm her.

Devi is struck silent, contemplating those words for a moment, before asking, softly, as if slightly stunned - but not as much as she could be: “Do you mean… Rhaptor N'Sehla?” - Jagdish frowns, furrowing his brows, drifting his gaze over to Devi as though to make sure she was aware of the grimace. “His name was Dakarai, not Rhaptor. Rhaptor… was an adopted name.” The situation abruptly seems to become just that much more personal by the mention of an individual they all know - as though they were all connected.

Marcus shivers slightly, not raising his head although his cuffed hands, curl into fists. He mutters something to his sister then is silent again, his eyes opening then closing again. - Nikki utters a soft hiss at Marcus' words then pushes way from him, leaning more towards Devi, not looking at her brother.

This time, there seems to be no surprise in Devi's features, though she remains silent, contemplative. It would be easy to crush him now - he had almost admitted to having made exceptions - but something is stopping her. She slides her gaze to Neike, then to Nikki, quizzically, as though hoping for either of them to say something, or Marcus, even, as a brief flick of her gaze reveals. She may not be surprised, but is evidently at least confused and knocked out of her stride.

Nikkita shivers a little then as she flicks a look to Devi then nods, clearly in agreement with 'Mictian'. She looks away, not knowing quite what to say, even as she shifts awkardly, tugging at her wrists. - Marcus shifts awkwardly then glares at his sister who ignores him.

The silence lingers, burrowing into Devi's bones like a defeat, aggravating her. She had few nice things to say about the N'Sehla boy - she wasn't about to start respecting him now - but the other two girls seemed to do so and that's taken the wind out of her tirade. Jagdish regards her, grimace slowing melting back into a neutral expression as he notices that she's not about to rant on. ~It is her turn,~ the psychic pokémon gestures to Devi, left forearm outstretched into almost unnatural straightness, index finger pointing at the human. A shiver travels through Devi's shape and, still silent, eyes narrowing, she shakes her head slowly, resolutely.

Marcus writhes a little, struggling slightly before he is still. - Nikki shudders and struggles a soft hiss escaping her before she became still, lowering her head and rubbing her face against one shoulder.

Rolling his left shoulder as though to physically discard a thought, Jagdish, having long since composed himself again, walks in an almost offending casual saunter toward Devi, passing by the other three captives' backs. Devi tugs slightly at the chain, causing it to tinker, pulling her hands closer to her body, her eyes narrowing further, glare upon Jagdish as though daring him to involve her in this.

Nikkita shivers, her shoulders hunching as he passes behind her, cringing almost and leaning against Marcus, her eyes closing. A subtle tremor slips through her but she doesn't allow a single sound to escape between her gritted teeth. - Marcus glares, but without anger or hatred at 'Mictian' though he does smile faintly at Devi before nuzzling his sister gently, trying to calm her.

As Jagdish approaches Devi, a soft hiss surfaces from between her gritted teeth, lips peeled back in silent snarl. “Don't. Touch. Me,” she hisses venomously, her arms tensing, eliciting another tinker from the chain that binds her. It causes him to halt, key to the cuffs suspended between outstretched index and middle finger of his right hand, him having fished it from his pocket - a bitter, malicious expression is on his face, though, with no hint of fear.

Marcus flinches but remains silent and still, flicking a look to Devi before he looks to 'Mictian' then across to the pokemon. He licks his lips then and opens his mouth to say something, before looking shaken and closing his mouth without saying a word.

Jagdish takes another step toward her, causing Devi's nose to wrinkle a snarl and breath to hiss from her. His jaw sets and he narrows his eyes in silent gesture of his own, before reaching forward to slide the key into the cuffs - Devi tugs at them, causing the key to slip, twisting her shape around as though perhaps intending to throw herself at Jagdish and hope to harm him with sheer weight - but it's more to better glower at him. “Hold still,” he demands, simply, free hand seizing the chain leading to Devi from Nikki's side, fingers curling to loop around the links of the chain leading into the other direction, pinching them together and holding them to steady her wrists, unlocking the cuffs despite Devi's bouts of - meager - physical defiance.

Nikkita doesn't even writhe, nor does she makes a sound, shifting slightly, leaning a little more against Marcus who scowls at Devi. Neither say anything although both are worried for her. Nikki's fingers flex and she flicks a look to the Gymleader before tearing her eyes away.

As the cuffs snap open, Devi stumbles forward, no longer restrained in her motion, but not having ceased writhing just in time. It takes her an instant to steady herself before she swirls around to glare at Jagdish, her fingers flexing. Jagdish, expression lowered to peer past his brows at her, raises his left arm, stretching it out to gesture toward the psychic pokémon. “Step forward,” he instructs, voice level. Devi snorts. “I am not playing along with this,” she remarks, matter-of-factly.

Marcus winces but doesn't make a sound although he does look up to watch Devi, his fingers flexing. Opening his mouth to say something, he flinches slightly then flicks a look to the pokemon, then to Devi then back to the pokemon again before he looks away, shuddering. Nikki winces a little and tugs slightly on her wrists, almost about to say something before she looks away, shame making her cheeks burn.

“You don't seriously think it matters, do you, Devi? After your little dissertation, I would've expected you to be a lot more pessimistic,” Jagdish states, his voice cold, ending the last spoken syllable with a click, emphasising the end of his statement. He clasps his hands together, watching her with narrowed eyes. “Now step forward, or I will see to it that you are dragged there.”

Nikkita cringes, hunching her shoulders, her eyes closing as she leaned against Marcus who eyes Devi, not looking away from her and the Gymleader. A shudder wracks his shape then but her remains silent.

Devi seems to hesitate, her shape tense, lined with a dark energy as though she were willing to pounce Jagdish to maul him. Exhaling into a snort, she swirls again, stalking toward the pok<E9>mon with reluctance, stopping just out of grabbing reach, sliding her arms across each other. Jagdish, meanwhile, is walking back past the backs of the other three, surfacing from behind the row, approaching her again. “Kneel,” he says, simply, gesturing accordingly. “Make me,” she hisses, dark glare cast toward him, bitterness in her voice.

Marcus whispers, barely audible: “I'd do it… Devi… dearest.” He looks away then and doesn't say another word, flinching and backing against the post, silently. - Nikki blinks, wide-eyed, then tugs at her wrists slightly before she is still, quiet.

Jagdish lets his arms slide apart and drop to his sides before raising his hands and resting the fingertips against each other, regarding Devi with a certain scrutiny. “If you insist,” he states, simply, his expression sour, before glaring across at the pokémon behind the psychic legendary, glance lancing at a particular one, a dark shadow of a raptorian, rising with a tinker of metal. Devi snaps her gaze around and snarls, curling her hands to fists as she glares back at Jagdish.

Nikkita blinks then, watching intently before she cringes, trying to make herself seem smaller as she cowers against Marcus, whimpering very softly. - Marcus flinches but does try to soothe his sister, not looking away from 'Mictian', Devi or the raptorian.

With the cold distance in his voice prevailing, Jagdish repeats his command, it heavy with the implication that it was her last chance: “Kneel.” From the approaching raptorian, a strange mixture of shriek and chirp surfaces, a malicious, chilling sound, its eyes alert and fixed on her shape as though it were perhaps considering her for a meal, its forepaws raised slightly from a casual dangle, its stride graceful, its approach predatory.

Devi's attention is locked on the approaching pokémon, shape tense, a shiver seizing her shape, product of that tension and the indecision of whether to submit in light of the lingering physical threat or to remain resolute. Evidently, she chooses latter - and from the raptorian comes an alien, eerie hiss, its metal plume fanning out, reptilian lips pulled back from those sharp teeth. Its shape uncoils, a movement of impossible grace and speed - and the next moment it is upon her, her shape impacting with a dull thud with the ground, forced to the ground, shrieking, the raptorian's left paw seizing her hair in a painful grip, her shape twisted in almost unnatural ways beneath it.

Marcus snarls a note as Devi is grabbed then falls silent, cringing against the post. His brow furrows and his hands flex but he doesn't make a single sound, lowering his head and resting it on his sister's shoulder, not looking at Devi. - Nikki narrows her eyes but doesn't make a sound, tugging at her wrists before she is still, her head lowering, slow tears sliding down her face.

An arched back attempts to help Devi squirm free of the grip - to no avail. Sounds of fury and frustration are wrung from her, her eyes squeezed shut, arms struggling against the creature's weight. It's barely heavier than a human, hollow bones allowing for it to be built for speed - but she's on the ground, flat, without much leverage available to her flailing limbs.

The raptorian's right forepaw seizes her right wrist as it claws up toward it. A moment later, a scream of pain sounds - and dies down into silent breathing, wrist twisted almost to breaking point. With a soft, exasperated, but ultimately superior sigh, Jagdish remarks: “You aren't doing yourself a favour, Miss Ravi.” - It elicits another grunt of frustration from her, and a whimper of defiance, culminating in another sort yelp as her hair is tugged on.

Nikkita cringes then, closing her eyes tight and sobbing very softly before she is still and silent. - Marcus glares across then sighs softly, his eyes softening. “Please… Devi…” he croaks. “Do as they ask… please?” His usually steady voice cracks and he loosk away.

Now silent, though ignoring Marcus' pleas, Devi's breathing is laboured as she is forcibly shifted to her knees, not rebelling, as such, but being utterly passive, forcing the pokémon to do all the work. But it's a pointless act of defiance - left forepaw still wrapped around strands of her hair, the pokémon has heaved her to her knees before the psychic legendary, holding her down, right arm gripped. Silence lingers for a long moment, before the psychic pokémon, resentment visible in its features, if only vaguely, finally begins.

~Devi Ravi,~ its muzzle inclines, forepaws curling into loose fists. ~You are…~ And then it trails off, its eyes drifting closed as if it were quite unable to complete the sentence. After a moment of silence, a shudder seizes its shoulders, and a snarl surfaces from its vocal chords. ~I don't see why we're wasting our time with you,~ it hisses into their minds, addressing Devi, before snapping its gaze up to Jagdish. ~She can't talk her way out of her weapon, what do we need her input for?~

Marcus looks up then, forcing his sister to to the same although neither of them say a word. Nikki shivers then and looks away, her eyes closing tightly as the raptorian speaks. She starts to turn away, without that she makes a sounds, snapping her teeth at her brother who tussles slightly then lets her do so.

Devi snarls, straining slightly against the hold on her hair and shoulder - but it's half-hearted for now, merely an expression of discontent. The psychic pokémon, even before Jagdish can respond, snaps its muzzle around to sneer at her. ~You disgust me,~ it remarks, simply, its eyes flaring with colour, feathers bristling. Jagdish seems unfazed by the outburst of the psychic, evidently tolerating it - perhaps agreeing. “I think we should give her a chance to express her… motivations,” he remarks, his gaze resting on her, gaze a venomous, almost arrogant glare.

Marcus watches, eyes narrowed but he doesn't sa a word nor make any other sound although he leans his head against the post, trying to relieve an itch. He doesn't look away from the two pokemon, Devi and 'Mictian' if he can help it though.

“I don't have to justify myself to pokémon,” Devi snarls, words laced with a whimper, now stemming her weight as far sideways as she can bear, her hands clasped around the wrist of the raptorian holding her, trying to force her nails past the scales, barely even causing the creature to rumble in protest. The grip doesn't shift. “I'm curious, why do you think so?” Jagdish inquires, his words icy, mocking her - and the vulnerable position she's in. Simultaneously, it's a dare, trying to provoke her into worsening the situation for herself.

Marcus and Nikki both cringe, the girl whimpering a soft note before she starts to sit down. Marcus flicks a look to Neike then winces as his sister's movements tug on the chain a little. He looks back to Devi then, gnawing worriedly at his lip.

With reluctance, something clicks within Jagdish as though first battling its way through syrup before snapping into place. His brows knit together, his expression darkening, dislike entering his expression - not of her, though, of some thought he's having; even as she hisses her response. “What would they care? They've made up their mind.”

Marcus flinches and sits, carefully, flicking a look to his sister then to Neike before back to Devi, gritting his teeth. His fingers flex then and he attempts to tug Neike into a sit too. - Nikki kneels silently, her head lowered as her lower jaw trembles. She doesn't look up though she is listening.

Jagdish's fingers flex silently, finding himself actually thinking about her words, with a part of him desperately trying to convince him to simply dismiss them. Her case was clear - prolonging it was only mental torture for the legendaries who had to listen to her bile. It was true - the psychic had made up its mind already, that much was certain, but why was Devi so sure? Something about her statement seemed more sweeping than that. “Your arguments will be heard… providing you have any, which I personally greatly doubt,” he remarks, weariness creeping into his voice.

She snorts, her chest visibly heaving with each breath, her back arched slightly, fingers still trying to cause some damage on the arm that holds her. “What the fuck do you want to hear? That I'm sorry? That I regret? Fuck you, I don't. Let me go,” she snarls, shape tense as she tries to free herself in a bout of energy once more, failing just as before. The raptorian utters a semblance of a snicker.

Marcus looks up then sighs softly, shaking his head although he doesn't say anything. As for Nikki, she already looks beaten, her hair falling over her face, concealing it, hiding the fact that she's crying.

Jagdish curls his right hand into a fist, resting it in the palm of his left hand, his expression becoming stolid. Something is keeping anger from surfacing - it boils silently at a distance, as though not pertaining to his person. But the grimace is there. “No? I suppose you didn't pay much attention to Marcus' trial, then. Just how much death would you like to suffer?” Cynicism was getting the better of him.

Marcus flinches and lowers his head, not looking up before he tugs at his wrists before he is still. He doesn't make a sound though, his eyes closing. A shiver runs through him but he doesn't move other than that.

Again, a hiss, but there seems to be a heavy note of fear in that sound, and her gaze betrays the same. Still, she holds herself straight, resolute. “Fuck you,” she snarls, voice cracking slightly, her eyes squeezing shut. “They deserve it.”

Jagdish arches a brow, his left hand's fingers kneading into his fist. Even Dakarai had never argued that - not with such venom in his tone, not with that conviction. This wasn't a statement of arrogance - it was an actual belief. Dislike licks up his shape, not quite enveloping him - a rational fraction of his mind elbows its way forward, causing him to snap: “Why?”

Marcus raises his head, then blinks, his shape twitching even as he opens his mouth to say something before Nikki elbows him and he shuts his mouth again, glaring at her. Nikki just narrows her eyes and shakes her head.

Something catches in Devi's throat, like a sob - a tremble touches her shoulders, quickly dissipating into fresh tension. Silence. Jagdish narrows his eyes. “Why?” he repeats, the syllable almost barked. - “What did you expect me to do?!” Her breath is a pant, erratic at the edges. “Let them kill me in my sleep?” The last word is snorted, derisive, full of hatred and malice - as well as despair.

Nikkita shivers, lowering her head and she mutters to Marcus: “Let it be,” as he opens his mouth to say something before he closes it again and settles for ignoring hs sister for now, watching Devi intently. Nikki flexes her fingers, but doesn't make any more sound.

Struck by the unexpectedness of the answer, Jagdish's anger extinguishes like a flame. “…what?” he asks, bewilderment seizing his shape, his shoulders sagging slightly, his head inclined quizzically. - “Fuck, you heard me.” Devi's voice is more of a wail by now, a pitiful, broken thing. Is she crying, in that obnoxious way of refusing to acknowledge it?

Nikkita trembles silently, lowering her head again but she doesn't cry, she's feeling all cried out for now. A tremble rips through her and she leans against Marcus, seeking something, she's not sure what. Marcus smirks faintly and half curls about her shape, soothing her just by being there. He looks over to Devi then before flicking a look to Neike.

Irritation touches his expression, tugging subtly at his brows and the corners of his mouth, but the bewilderment remains the primary factor. “Why would they kill you in their sleep?” - “That's how they are,” Devi responds, immediately, trying yet again to writhe from the grip that holds her, with the same amount of success as before.

Marcus sighs softly then lowers his head a little more, not looking at anyone now as his eyes roll closed again. Like his sister though, his is listening intently.

Jagdish grimaces. What sort of a paranoid agenda was this? Feeling a strange twinge of concern for the girl - both retrospectively for what may have happened to force her into this stance and for her sanity now - he steps closer in a mostly casual saunter, tilted slightly, curiosity evident in his demeanour. “No,” he says, simply, wondering what that would provoke in her - his voice is soft again.

“It is, fuck you, how do you explain what happened to Dejan?!” she snarls, struggling again, pointlessly, pathetically - before sagging in the grip and uttering sob upon sob, unable to hold it back any longer, stressed to breaking point, grief seizing her.

Marcus gasps then flicks a look to his sister who doesn't look at him before he looks back to Devi, an eyebrow rising. He doesn't say anything though he does tug on his wrists, wanting to try and make her feel better.

It stumps him. For long moments, Devi's crying is the only audible sound, almost giving the impression that it would be all there ever would be again - that the silence was going to be permanent once her sobs died. Finally, Jagdish shakes his head, his eyes closed for the duration of the gesture, it slow, a motion almost of understanding, were there not his general air of confusion. “…I'm afraid you'll have to elaborate,” he says, voice still soft. The sudden courtesy seems jarringly out of place, especially since it is so genuine.

Nikkita winces almost soundlessly then looks away, shifting uneasily but she doesn't say anything, nor does her pose change from what it is. Marcus swallows hard, eyes glittering as he stares across at Devi, tugging at his wrists, wanting to kiss away those tears and make her feel better.

“Dejan,” she sobs, deflatedly. “My brother,” she adds, in half a croak. “…killed… him…” Apparently, this is not easy to talk about. Tears are glittering in her eyes. Jagdish glances up almost worriedly, regarding the raptorian with a grimace. “Let her go,” he instructs. With a vicious snort, the pokémon drops her, the motion abrupt, causing her shape to sag semi-uncontrolledly onto the ground, ending up in a pathetic heap. She rolls to her side slightly, breath still a pant.

Marcus cringes as he hears her, backing away, his back pressing against the post. Tearing his gaze away from her, he stared at the round, unable to say anything even if he wanted to do so.

Jagdish crouches down beside the crumpled shape, extending a hand toward her, touching her shoulder. Almost reflexively, she twists away. “Don't touch me,” she whimpers, right hand's fingers brushing the air as though trying to bat him away, though there is little aim in the motion - it's more of a gesture.

“What happened to Dejan?” Jagdish's inquiry is one filled with worry, but at the same time, he's evidently irked at having to ask it, uncomfortable, if not massively so, like someone who was unsure if he was walking blindly into an April Fool's joke, but suspected it subconsciously. “…no,” Devi whispers - but it's hard to say what she means with it, as she certainly doesn't mean that she won't share, continuing with: “His pokémon turned on him.” She lets that linger for a moment, but cuts across Jagdish's first syllable of speech with: “You would've liked him, he was the bleeding heart type.” She's definitely upset - evidently she'd like to do Jagdish's face in, but is far too taken by grief to do so.

Nikkita shivers, lowering her head further, letting her mood sink with her even though she doesn't cry. Her mood affects Marcus who slouches, not looking up nor saying anything. Neither of them even move but to breathe now, lost in their own thoughts.

Again, he extends a hand, trying to touch her shoulder, met with the same brash gesture. Sighing, he shifts to his feet, straightening to a stand. “…bet you get a kick out of that,” Devi remarks, trying to shift to a more dignified position, herself. Jagdish frowns. “…no. We don't condone what happened to your brother.”

Marcus looks up then blinks, managing a weak smile although it's bitter before he looks away, heaving himself to his feet, forcing his sister and likely Neike too into standing. Nikki mutters something then looks away, staring at the ground.

Devi's attempts to rise falter at the statement. Unintelligible sounds issue from her, tone one of despair. “…no, no.” It's become a whisper. Jagdish frowns, before glancing up to the psychic pokémon. A dark expression lingers on its features, counter-point to Jagdish's relative warmth. He nods to the pokémon, once, prompting it to latch its gaze onto Devi, it lancing through her crumpled shape.

~Devi Ravi,~ the voice of the psychic pokémon can be heard in the minds of all those present. ~You are to experience the pain you have put your pokémon through. Since you do not regret your actions, worm,…~ - the voice dips to a resentful hiss - ~…you will suffer for as long as we deem appropriate. Furthermore, we sentence you to death… later, rather than sooner.~

Marcus winces then cringes lowering his head, shifting uneasily but he doesn't say a word nor does he struggle. - Nikki blinks, blood draining from her face before she fidgets for several seconds, hissing under her breath before she becomes still and silent, her head and upper body lowering.

Devi's reaction is a fierce tremble, smothered beneath her weeping. Jagdish regards her for several long moments, before realising there would be no verbal response to the 'sentence'. A bitter glance is cast sideways toward the raptorian that had pinned her, and it inclines its muzzle, forepaws seizing her shape at the shoulders and yanking her around, causing her to cry out in reflex. Jagdish follows in a saunter, his expression stony, though a touch of sadness is at the edges of his eyes, which only serves to increase the brutality of the coldness, proving there was no way to escape it by appealing to his mercy.

The chain rattles as Devi's shoulders impact with it, her having been twisted crudely until her back is against it. “Just stop it,” she wails out, her arms, guided by subconscious urge to do something, rising to brush against the scaled arms that hold her, pushing weakly against them, her grief having drained her of energy. Her plea is ignored, Jagdish's saunter not faltering, him headed toward the back of the group, evidently about to lend his spidery fingers to forcing her back into those cuffs.

Marcus shudders and flicks a look at Neike then to his sister before he sighs softly, looking up at Devi, worriedly. - Nikki quivers but she doesn't say a word, pushing to her feet, stretching a little, gnawing at her lower lip.

“Hold her,” Jagdish instructs, simply, not responding to Devi directly. Another cry surfaces from the weakly struggling human as the raptorian pushes her arms back, its forepaws sliding across her skin, coming to rest gripping her near her wrists, forcing them to touch each other behind her back. With a snap, the cuffs lock around her wrists - and the raptorian lets go, Devi's shape sagging unceremonially to the ground, propped up crudely by the pole, crumpled sideways against it.

Marcus half scowls at 'Mictian' then leans across his sister, eyeing Devi and wanting to say something but not knowing what to say. He sags then, sitting himself, flicking a worried look to his sister. - Nikki trembles slightly but she doesn't make a sound nor struggle. She doesn't look at the gymleader though or at the raptorian, her gaze cast slightly to the ground. She exhales, softly and shifts slightly, not looking at the other three, worried about them but more worried for herself if she's next.

Apparently, she is. Jagdish's slender hands slide around her wrists, his left hand curling to grip them loosely, right wielding a tinkering key. “Your turn,” he says, softly, but without sympathy. A grind of the key later, the cuffs pop open, letting her move.

Nikkita flinches as he grips her and speaks but doesn't make a sound, carefully flexing her fingers as she's released before she steps forwards, her head dipping slightly as she rubs at both wrists, cursing the fact that she fidgeted so much. She remains silent though and swallows hard, brow furrowing.

“Step forward,” he instructs, in that same neutral tone, his right hand's fingers toying with the key for a brief moment before locking around it and returning it to his right trouser pocket, his gaze following it on the way down.

Nikkita twitches but doesn't protest as she steps forwards, her head lowering again and eyes half closing even as her brow furrows a little more then smooths. She remains silent even as she flicks her tongue across her lips and rubs at the back of her neck. Her fingers flex and she pushes one hand through her hair, forcing herself into a calm state of mind… or as calm and clear as her mind gets.

As she approaches, she can hear the pokémon's breathing, a low, almost rumbling, steady sound, its presence powerful. Jagdish, moving to veer past Marcus and Neike, regards Nikki with a look of scrutiny, his shoulders rolling slightly as though to do away with the emotional weight of the previous 'trial'. “Kneel,” he instructs, wondering idly why he has to keep repeating it.

Nikkita almost whimpers but obeys instantly, kneeling with her hands on her thighs and her eyes are lowered. She doesn't make a sound though nor does she move further than she's been told apart from to breathe. She's terrified but she's calm at the same time.

The psychic pokémon seems to scrutinise her for a moment, before finally speaking into her mind in a fashion all can hear, as with Devi and Marcus before: ~You are charged with cruelty to your pokémon. Do you have anything to say in light of this charge?~

Nikkita exhales. “I do not deny it although I regret starting the Gym Circuit.” She raises her gaze then without that she meets the raptorian's eyes. She opens her mouth to say something else then closes it again without saying a word, her head lowering and shoulders drooping. Fingers flexing against her trousers, she inhales, her tongue running across her dry lips. “I was wrong to even think about it. Pokemon do not deserve to be treated as I treated them.” Her voice is a soft whisper, respectful.

Nikkita shivers. “I do not know if it makes any difference or not but I… asked them if they wanted to battle from a certain point on… I don't know why I continued and didn't just stop.” She trails into silence, shoulders bowed.

The psychic pokémon narrows its eyes slightly, shooting a glance to Jagdish as though silently communicating with him, then nodding slightly to the gymleader. ~And why do you believe your pokémon could have felled an informed decision on the matter?~ the legendary asks Nikki, tone and demeanour back to the coldly neutral one that had initially persisted.

Nikkita flinches. “I thought that they should have a choice in what they do since I believe that they are smart enough to make choices like that instead of me ordering them to do it. That wasn't nice of me to do so. It wasn't nice of me to start the Gym Circuit at all. I was trying to make amends.” Her voice shakes, but is still low, barely audible to the other three. “I'm sorry that I was wrong,” she finally adds, not raising her head.

~What possessed you to think they were 'smart enough'? Cite evidence,~ the psychic pokémon grimaces down at her, its eyes narrowed as if in quiet, subtle, background threat, tail swaying restlessly behind it, its plume stirred by some unfelt breeze.

Nikkita flinches, not raising her head. “I don't have any evidence… I just… thought that they were smart enough… ” Her voice shook and her hands coiled into loose fist as she flexed them. She didn't say anything else though or make another sound, not did she move. Her fringe fell over her eyes then and she swallowed hard, but remained silent.

Silence settles for long moments, awkward, uneasy, air seeming somehow heavy with some form of intangible static electricity. Accordingly, the touch of fingertips against her spine, rested between shoulder-blades, light as it is, registers like some kind of jolt. If she were to peer across her shoulder, she would see Jagdish has moved over from the others - the gesture seems absent-minded, his gaze latched on the pokémon instead. ~Are you aware of the amount of pokémon you have captured? If so, please state the number - an estimate will do, as long as you make reference of the suspected leeway.~

Nikkita shivers and cringes at the touch of his fingers, back arching slightly as her brow furrowed and she thought. “I have nine that I caught with me.” She cringes, knowing she has to take responsibility for her actions. “Seven at home.” She swallows hard. “And three I gave to a better person.” She flicks look upwards then lowers her gaze again.

The pokémon seems briefly bewildered, irritation tugging at its reptilian brows, before Jagdish subtly clears his throat, the sound an almost negligible lead up to his words: “Nineteen. The tally is nineteen.” His voice is soft, full of respect. Hand drifting to rest its palm on her right shoulder, he leans down to whisper into her ear: “Maths is a… human construct. You would do well to remember that henceforth and refrain from such humiliation.” It's not a threat, despite the words - the tone carries them as stern but full of understanding. After all, how was she supposed to know?

Nikkita nods slightly, cringing a little as her tongue runs across her lips. She doesn't say a word though nor does she move, even as her eyes drift closed. She swallows again, listening intently to her surroundings and giving all of her attention to Jagdish and the legendary pokemon in front of her.

The pokémon seems to need a moment to gather itself, as if perhaps it were struggling not to do something stupid, forepaws flexing indecisively. After a moment of this awkward contemplation, the psychic legendary shifts its gaze down to Nikki's shape, expression almost wary, like resentment barely contained. The voice in her mind remains as level as before, though, as it continues: ~Did you ever bother to ask those pokémon if they wanted to be part of your… team?~

Nikkita actually ducks, shoulders hunching. “No, I did not,” she whispers, swallowing hard. “I regret now that I did not do so. ” She shivers a little but doesn't say anything more. Her eyes opened slightly as she stared at her hands, regret almost oozing from her. She remains silent though.

The pokémon inclines its head to the side, though its gaze drifts off somewhere else - and a while longer, there is silence, slight twitches of the pokémon's forepaws suggesting background conversation with the others. Jagdish drifts his fingertips back to where they had rested before, as if in some form of faux-support. Finally, the next question is asked, those eyes, hard to read as they are, coming to settle their gaze back on Nikki. ~How often do you think you've battled with your pokémon?~

Nikkita trembles a little. “I don't know… between ten and twenty times…?” She licks at her lips slowly then, almost leaning back against the fingers but halting herself in time and straightening her back, raising her head. She's not proud of herself though.

The pokémon shifts its glance abruptly to Jagdish, eyes widening a touch as if to ask him what sort of a joke he was expecting the legendaries to put up with - but the man simply gives a light shrug and something of a light eyeroll. The legendary narrows its eyes, muzzle snapping back around, gaze piercing into Nikki venomously. ~Nineteen battles of capturing wild pokémon, seven gym badge-~ - “Six. For fairness sakes, six,” Jagdish remarks, idly, tone almost bored. - ~Six battles for gym badges. That is already over your suggested 'twenty'.~ So, apparently, addition is less of a problem with numbers it itself is churning out. Perhaps it handles them differently? Perhaps they're not numbers at all in its mind before they come to verbal fruitition. ~Do you mean to tell me you have not once trained your pokémon, and not once failed at attempted capture of wild pokémon?~

Nikkita cringes. “I have trained them…” she whispers. “Failed captures lots of times too… I…” She pauses swallowing the hard lump in her throat. “Just hadn't counted the number of battles I'd been in.” She falls silent then, shape sagging slightly.

~We asked for an estimate, not an exact number. Which you have failed to provide in any convincing manner,~ the pokémon remarks, mental voice outlined by a strange malice. Its eyes light up with a very real luminosity, purple hues coming to glow. ~Are you that oblivious to your ways or are you attempting to mock us?~

Nikkita cringes. “I'm sorry,” she almost whimpers. “Given that I have battled so much I would say that it is around 25 times if not a little more. Maybe thirty. Maybe.” She falls silent then, shuddering hard. “I didn't mean to insult,” she adds after several seconds before falling quiet again.

The pokémon's left forepaw snaps to side, rising ominously - only to halt in mid-air, anger swirling through its eyes. The awkward paralysis persists for a long moment, broken only by the heaving chest, before finally those nimble claws twitch into motion and curl slightly, only to drift back into a quasi-straightened state as the arm lowers without striking her, simply flexing almost lazily into the semblance of a fist. Jagdish smirks lightly, his own fingers at the back of Nikki's shape curling to loosely grip the fabric of her shirt as he answers the question, rhethoric though it might be, with aloof ease: “Oblivious, I assure you, sad as that is.” The pokémon growls, the sound guttural and deep, glaring down at Nikki.

Nikkita flinches but doesn't move, expecting the hit to land, knowing that she deserves it. Her tongue flicks across her lips before she lowers her head, shivering visibly but she doesn't say a word, not even as her eyes close when Jagdish flexes his fingers about her clothing.

The gaze of the legendary drifts back up, slowly this time, to Jagdish's face. A silent inquiry results in verbal response from the gym leader: “Like you would anyone. She's battled pokémon, she's not treated them badly beyond that, but she's got quite a tally on her. I daresay you have all information you need - so why not decide, then she's out of your hair.” The smile on his face has a superficial sweetness, like something inheritely malicious, a subtle threat to Nikki, even though she's not part of this conversation. Perhaps he's expecting her to say something - to plead, perhaps.

Nikkita shivers a little, swallowing hard and straightening up, raising her head opening her eyes. She cringes slightly at the Gymleader's words but doesn't move very much and she opens her mouth to speak, flicking her tongue across her dry lips. “If I were a different person and knew you would be merciful and I didn't want to take responsibility for my actions then I would beg. But I'm not like that. I know what I did was wrong, now if I didn't know before. I deserve to be punished.” She lowers her head then silently, not saying anything more.

Jagdish's fingers curl uncomfortably into the fabric of her shirt, tense against her, pulling the collar of her shirt against her neck. “You were not asked to speak,” he points out, voice icy, laced with a certain, disturbing amusement. His eyes have narrowed a touch, though his gaze does not move down to her. As his phrase ends, silence settles once more, the luminescent eyes of the pokémon before Nikki closing for long moments.

Nikkita cringes, her expression apologetic before she reflexively tugs against his fingers, almost snarling before she sags, shoulders drooping. Her tongue flicks across her lips before she is still and silent, head bowed.

After that while of silence, the pokémon stirs, its eyes inching back open slowly, gaze rolling through the desolate area and finding Nikki almost lazily again. ~Nikki Arsaga,~ the psychic legendary states. ~We have conferred and come to the conclusion that you will be spared of death, but you will be made to suffer what you have inflicted upon your pokémon.~ The sentence seems spat, as though perhaps the legendary did not truly deem itself part of the 'we' that did not impose death upon this 'pathetic excuse for a human'.

Nikkita nods, trembling hard before she swallows. She doesn't say a word, nor make a sound, shape almost limp now. Her eyes roll closed and she pushes one hand through her hair before she flicks a look up then lowers her gaze again.

After a moment's pause, gaze latched onto her, the legendary appends: ~That is all.~ Jagdish's fingers uncurl as abruptly as they had come to curl, letting her go and rise from the kneel whenever she wishes, to return to the others - though no doubt the timespan is expected to be kept within reason. In a graceful sweep, the legendary's muzzle turns, tip coming to point toward Devi, a tremble of utter resentment touching its shape, eyes flaring to life briefly, before it gives a dismissive snort.

Nikkita shivers and pushes to her feet, ignoring the burn as her legs stretch. She walks back over to the others then, or at least starts to do so, her hands coming to rest at her lower back. Her head is lowered and she doesn't say anything, shape twitching slightly.

Jagdish follows her, his footsteps barely audible, as if there were something in the air drowning out the subtle sounds, muffling them. His left arm crosses his front like a lazy horizontal slash, fingers of his right hand slid through those of his left, curling about his hand, the gesture absent-minded. They cross the distance to the others at decent speed - and a while later, Nikki, providing she's not somehow decided to struggle, would find herself back in her cuffs, cool, nimble fingers wrapped about her wrists for a moment.

Nikkita flinches as she is cuffed, but doesn't struggle, leaning against those cool fingers as they rest against her skin before she slouches, eyes closing as faint trembles run through her shape. She shivers a little more and swallows hard, hair falling over her eyes again. She doesn't make a sound though.

It is then that Neike's gaze rises slowly, even as Jagdish's own glance drifts away from Nikki's, the two gazes finding themselves, only to clash horribly, icy from side of Jagdish. Neike's gaze seems slightly bewildered, as if she were non-verbally asking if it were her turn, though there was hardly a question about it. Jagdish's lips remain loosely closed in silence, however, suggesting it may not be that simple. “I have a request,” he finally breaks the silence, his voice seeming - superficially, at least - casual, if not altogether jovial, the hint of a smirk touching his lips. After a moment of composing itself due to the unsuspected inquiry, the psychic legendary responds with: ~Of what nature?~

Nikkita flicks a look to Neike, her eyes opening before she lowers her gaze, trembling before she swallows ahrd and slides to the ground crouching, head resting on her knees. She doesn't make a sound though, even as Marcus growls and kicks her. She doesn't stand though.

Marcus snarls and kicks Nikki again. “Get up,” he snaps. - Nikki mutely shakes her head, just tired. More tired than she's ever been.

“That this one be excempt from the trials and be handed to my care,” he completes his request, a certain sweetness to his tone, a strange darkness touching that very last word, jinxing its meaning. Neike regards him with quiet, but definite dread, teeth closed about the flesh of her lower lip in gentle gnaw. The psychic pokémon seems to consider the request for a moment, gaze shifting toward the captive in question. ~If she does not object… her crimes are hardly severe enough to warrant that the interest of this court override such a request. Tell me, human, do you object?~

Nikkita blinks, head rising and eyes opening as she opens her mouth to say something then closes it again, biting at her lip painfully. She's worried about her friend as much as she knows that she can take care of herself. She looks away then and fidgets, not saying a word.

Silence lingers, though Neike's gaze seems to swirl subtly for a moment - and evidently, there are silent thoughts toward the psychic pokémon, as it is prompted to respond with: ~Of course,~ before seeming slightly startled, realising that it is still speaking to all. It lowers its muzzle, tip bobbing slightly as it nods. Jagdish seems to shift uncomfortably as something is relayed, his hands clasped around his elbows. The awkward situation persists a while longer, before the psychic legendary remarks, again to the minds of all. ~It seems you will have to fell your decision without an answer, for he will not part with one.~ After a pause: ~It would seem that under these circumstances, you should object? It will not be held against you.~ Jagdish shoots a glare across to the pokémon, though it seems mostly contained, like someone who is well aware the words are sensible and fair.

Nikkita twitches, her mouth half opening although she remains silent. She looks away then, rubbing her nose on her shoulder before Marcus scowls and crouches, letting his sister lean against him, wanting to raise his hands to stroke through her hair to help her keep calm but due to the placement of the cuffs can't so just leans against her in a sort of hug. Nikki shifts a little but remains silent.

Neike's gaze hovers about the ground for a while, her lip slowly curving inward as she continues her inner gnaw upon it. A while later, she glances up, gesture timid, but eyes betraying nothing of the sort. “I don't object,” she says, finally, and although her voice is steady, it is quiet.

Nikkita looks up, exhaling softly as he watches before she tugs at her wrists slightly, lips parting slightly before Marcus glares at her and she lowers her head, trembling. She looks up again, from over Marcus' shoulder, eyes narrowing slightly as she eyed the Gymleader and her best friend.