Even for someone grounded in rational observation, it was difficult to shake the horrific preconceptions about Vereheq. Having set up camp for the night amongst rubble that looked suitably stable, Dakarai N'Sehla felt the grip of superstitious unease worm its way into his gut. He tried to swat at it with the tongue-in-cheek enquiry if 'for the night' was even correct - he'd been meandering around for hours looking for traces of Solalon, that much he was sure of, but he had no watch on him and the only time of day he could reasonably rule out was midday - but it persisted, and he stared a little numbly at his rucksack, before stubbornly rummaging through it to retrieve a bottle of water.
The Venomoth that Jagdish had assigned to watch him, 'Iris', had come to a rest on a boulder just out of any reasonable assaulting reach, attentive in its perch, rigid in posture. He understood enough about Iris that the creature was wholly willing to paralyse or poison him if he tried anything remotely aggressive, and despite having lived without pokémon to defend himself for most of his life, the unspoken threat made him a little uneasy given his 'disarmed' state.
With the bottle in one hand after a few concentrated sips from it, he stares back down at the unflattering spot on the ground he'd decided was acceptable to curl up in for some rest. His gut rebels. He can't fall asleep here. He'll never wake up.
He closes his eyes, willing the ridiculous belief out of his skull, breathing slowly. He'd be fine. He should be far more worried about the consequences of actually finding Solalon as he'd been instructed to. That was a very real threat, flesh and blood, complete with a boiling, seething hatred, and no Jagdish to help him out of it in a pinch. Granted, no Jagdish to shove him tumbling straight into the abyss, either, but former trait nonetheless genuinely disturbed him.
As such, when he opens his eyes again and spots a distant glow, the knot in his gut simply twists itself into something tighter and he bites his lower lip, abrupt tension in his form.
He could call out for him. He could try to walk in that direction and hope to reach him. Somehow, he's sure either of those options will result in the light flickering amongst the ruins, only to vanish. He'd have to wait for the Legendary to approach him, that much was clear - he couldn't force an encounter, no matter how much it was his mission to have one. Wearily, he glances at Iris, hint of a plea in his demeanour. Maybe the Venomoth could say hi for him? An exceedingly respectful and reverent sort of hi, not in the least bit misinterpreted as flippant?
The ruins of Vereheq have a certain timeless aura to them, in Solalon's opinion. Perhaps it's the mists, and the fact that this place looks the same regardless of time of day. Or perhaps it's the unusual interchange here between the natural and the human-made. Either way, it's perhaps one of Solalon's favourite things about this place.
Another is its reputation among the human cultures of the island - humans avoid travelling through here, and when they do, it's very easy to avoid them, except for those frustrating times when they decide to follow him into the mists. Even so, he gets to enjoy the beauty of this place while having minimal interactions with humans - something he's perfectly happy about.
He's in the middle of a pleasant stroll, letting his mind wander, when off in the distance, scarcely visible in the mists, he sees a pair of shapes that don't look like the rocks here. A human, and… some sort of pokémon, it looks like, sitting on the nearby boulder. …a trainer. And it looks like it's resting. For a few moments, he lingers there, then turns and begins to slowly circle around. There are some decent-sized crumbling walls over there, he should be able to approach while staying relatively out of sight.
As motion touches the light, Dakarai briefly scrunches up his face in soft grimace, resisting the urge to call for him or run toward him. “…Iris, I know you're…” Inhale. Exhale. “You would do me a very big favour if you could say hi to him for me,” he tries, humbly. In his mind's eyes, Iris simply sneered, and then the light vanished and he had to try sleeping here, and tomorrow would be filled with a fruitless hunt until his bones ached. Nothing he couldn't deal with, but unnecessary - especially unnecessarily stressful for the Legendary and unnecessarily taxing for Iris.
Iris rests on the bit of collapsed building stoically, wings the only hint of inflection, glowering persistently at Dakarai. The human thought he could boss him around, did he? Had Jagdish honestly not disabused him of that notion yet?
…and yet, rolling the request around in his head, it's not unreasonable. He feels disinclined to field it, but he can't really fault the human for the pitiful enquiry. He's at the whim of the elements and Solalon here and was stuck in this labyrinthine mess until he'd spoken to the Legendary. A Legendary that made no secret of its loathing of Dakarai N'Sehla, specifically. A Legendary who's territory he was currently on, no less.
Iris glances briefly across to the fleck of light denoting Solalon's position, contemplating the request. Then he's back to watching Dakarai like a hawk. If he tried to run away, Solalon would catch him. That could be fun, in a black humoured sort of way. If he tried to attack either of them, he'd be woefully underequipped to do so, and Solalon would break every one of his bones with punishing delight (or so Iris believed).
Making a soft noise akin to a stubborn hiss, Iris nonetheless finally rose from his perch and flew toward the Legendary, a characteristic approaching swerve to his path, like a signature. There was at least a chance that Solalon remembered Iris from Taqnateh, and Iris was happy to take any and all opportunities to decrease the chance of being pegged as either an enemy or food. Or both.
A flutter of wings and a shadow moving in the mists snags the Legendary's attention, and he twists his head to glare at the approaching creature, teeth bared. …a Venomoth. He relaxes slightly at that - it's at least conceivable that it was simply drawn towards his light out of natural curiosity, though the strong possibility that it was sent in some foolish attempt to fight him still doesn't make him any less wary of the potential threat.
Something about the flight pattern is unusual for a Venomoth though, and is striking him as vaguely familiar. It takes a bit of time for it to set in, and certainly helps when he sees the creature up close. ~…Iris?~ he asks, tilting his head to the side. What's the Taqnateh inhabitant doing so far from home? Jagdish hasn't called on him recently, and certainly would if he needed him for something. ~What brings you to my domain?~ he asks, a note of concern in his tone.
And then he's hovering near Solalon, feeling awkwardly caught between the request he fluttered here for and the urge to simply hang out and forget Dakarai for a moment. Of course, that would be wholly unprofessional and Jagdish would probably be angry about that. The notion of Jagdish being even in the least upset with him makes Iris wither and die a bit inside. Right. Professional it is. A series of sounds spills from the Venomoth, surprisingly soft and respectfully delivered, not shrill in the least, denoting in abstract that his human requests an audience and to please not kill it because that would make Jagdish rather upset. A pause, then, appending to the narrative, Iris denotes that this is Jagdish's great idea and to please not be upset with Jagdish either.
…an audience with a human. And evidently not Jagdish, either. That's… unusual. Perhaps he'd already finished Tove Zipporah's sentence, and sent her to have a conversation with him? Though he can't imagine why; it hardly seemed necessary. But it's Jagdish, he's sure there's a good reason, and equally sure it will become clear in conversation. ~Inform your human that I will be there momentarily,~ he replies, giving a gentle wave of his forepaw indicating the Venomoth is dismissed.
There's a dance of thanks to the Venomoth's motions, then Iris flips around into a glide, returning to Dakarai. This was going to end badly. It wasn't a question of pessimism - it was a fact of nature. It didn't matter, though, they weren't heading back to Taqnateh until it had ended and Dakarai had his chore completed. Technically, Iris should be making sure he doesn't get any bones broken or is accidentally murdered out of rage, but he's sure no one's really going to ask uncomfortable questions if Dakarai falls prey to a mauling by a Legendary. He can relax at a distance and watch the spectacle unfold.
His return is enough 'informing his human that Solalon will be there momentarily', as far as he's concerned, of course; and so he simply takes an almost dangerously close trajectory past Dakarai, almost within grasping reach, almost impacting with him before veering sharply to the side and finding a new perch. If that didn't get the message across, then no amount of high-pitched noises would.
As the Venomoth takes his leave, Solalon breathes slowly and continues his roundabout approach to the human's resting place. An audience with Tove. Well, that can't be too bad. Her only real crimes had been a few unfortunate misconceptions, and she was very quick to correct them once she realized her errors. There were a few legitimate concerns about her, but her heart was in the right place, at least.
Soon enough, he's nearing the location where he first saw the trainer and pokémon, walking along the far side of a long, still mostly-standing wall, light reflecting off the mists in a grand white aura. As he finally rounds the corner, his eyes fix on the human form - and he stops. …that isn't Tove Zipporah. A snarl spreads along his features. That isn't anyone he wants to deal with at all, ever again, and he's not rotting in Taqnateh like he should be, and he's trespassing in his domain. In an instant, he's running towards him and incredible speed; two seconds later Dakarai's forcibly knocked to the ground, forepaws pinning his arms with a terrifying strength, and the muzzle of a very angry Legendary staring him in the face, teeth bared in a growl. ~Dakarai N'Sehla,~ he greets with a venomous tone. ~What are you doing outside of your cell?~
Between the impact rattling through his bones and the sensation of stone fragments shredding against his back, Dakarai can't quite resist the instinct to give a curt, strangled cry, and his right hand finds itself tensely held as if to claw at the air, a twisting spine raising his torso off the ground fractionally, away from the sensation of fire piercing into one shoulderblade. His gaze up to Solalon is a pitiful mixture of terror and respect, trying desperately to more of latter and less of former. The urge to respond with 'It wasn't my idea!' is intense, but reined in - as much as it's true, he's never going to get anywhere with his new role if he points a finger. “Jagdish sends me to inform you of my new role,” he says instead, managing by some miracle not to stammer those words, though his eyes are wide. “Will you hear me? I cannot return to Taqnateh without that you do. I may not.” Is that conviction in his voice, somewhere beneath the evident tinge of fear, pleading and respect? A sliver of confidence? What's that doing in his emotional landscape, when it should have been beaten out of him ten times over?
A snarl erupts from the Legendary. ~And he sent you, alone with one of the pokémon loyal to him, into my domain to tell me this, without informing me beforehand?~ he inquires, tone an equal mix of measured fury and scepticism. ~Tell me, why would he do that?~ If it weren't for Iris's own explanation earlier, he likely wouldn't have even believed him at all - he'd have suspected that he'd escaped and somehow brought one of Jagdish's pokémon with him.
There's a rather distinct quiver to Dakarai's shape, though his face remains firmly resolute. The question comes as… part of a surprise. He's thought about that - but he's not really thought about that. It's not an oversight. It can't possibly be an oversight, can it? His gaze up at Solalon denotes as much confusion as it does contemplation and his tongue flicks across his lips as he tries his hand on that particular puzzle.
And then it occurs to him that it's the only thing that makes any sense at all. A flimsy inhale breaches the terrified silence and he cautiously sinks down against the ground, the briefest hint of pain flitting across his face as the sharp stone grinding into his shoulder finds its target again - but it's okay now, he can deal with it. “I'm not altogether sure but I think… - I think it might be because of the role,” he explains, the hint of a ragged pant layered across his breathing and speech, fear hammering his heart against his ribcage, heartbeat very nearly drowning out his perception of the world - and yet he's barely paying attention to that. It's so normal, so regular. “Jagdish believes I may best be repurposed as a sort of… observer… for the people who go on the gym circuit,” he explains. “To gather additional information,” he adds. “And I presume… but I don't know for certain… - I presume I'm here now without prior announcement so you know, you well and truly know, whether you can bear to see me in that role. With… - with some autonomy.”
The boiling rage is slowly beginning to cool to a simmer, largely owed to the fact that Dakarai has yet to say anything to make Solalon even more angry than he already is, and that alone is a fantastic accomplishment. At the very least, he seems to be listening up until that last word, at which point his glare adopts a darker quality. ~…autonomy,~ he repeats, tone flat but for a hint of incredulousness.
Giving Dakarai N'Sehla autonomy. The notion fails to sit right with him - it was precisely one of the things the Council had been trying to avoid granting him, and ultimately, in his view, is what led to the human being allowed to live in the first place. The thought that Jagdish would try to undermine that concern is deeply troubling to him. The role itself, on the other hand, sounds potentially useful - he could see the Council allowing for such a thing in theory, but to give it to Dakarai, of all people? ~And why, pray tell, would Jagdish think of you as a candidate for this role?~ he hisses.
The hiss prompts a visible chill to spread through the pinned human, but he maintains an alert and attentive air above that background layer of terror. “…I think,” he begins, again unable to answer in anything but hypotheticals. “That's owed less to my attributes as it is to circumstance - though, that being said, you have my unflinching loyalty and I am sure Jagdish is intimately aware of that.” The hair on the back of his neck are standing on end, the whole situation striking him like a merry skate on the thinnest possible ice, like the conversation is teetering on a brink where his current captor is just about ready to dislodge his spinal cord from the rest of his body if he doesn't pick his words carefully. All the more interesting that he's willing to be quite as honest as he is. “Specifically, his… prolonged responsibility for me. I think he would rather I serve a useful purpose than simply… occupy a room.” That much was true - the part he couldn't attest to was that this was somehow the Arbiter's main motivator.
Solalon cringes slightly at the mention of Dakarai's loyalty. Oh. Oh wonderful. Is this somehow a result of that 'potential ally' comment he made back in the Council session? Had Jagdish read more into that than he'd intended? Does that mean he's partially responsible for this new mess? A low growl spills from him, but strangely enough it doesn't seem to be specifically directed at Dakarai.
For a moment, those forepaws clench tighter around the human's shoulders, briefly threatening to crush them in a punishing grip… and then he pushes himself off of Dakarai, stalking a few steps away, putting some distance between himself and his 'captive'. For a long time, there's only silence from the Legendary, and then he turns his head back to glare at Dakarai once more. ~I need to speak with the Arbiter about this,~ he informs. ~I am going to Taqnateh, and you are going to come with me.~ Well. That's rather generous. ~Even if I have to drag you there myself.~
The weight against his shape relents, leaving the pinpricks against his skin less intense for the moment he continues lying there, motionless but for the very visible heave of his chest. The strength of his heartbeat, intent on escaping his ribcage as it had been, seems to wane a little, leaving him room to consciously perceive his own breathing. It's thick with fear, and for a moment of luxurious outside calm, he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to will the unbidden sensation out of his gut.
Then he's peeling himself off the ground, for a moment of shifted attention picking grains out of his skin, angling his legs into a casual sit beneath him, but despite his focus not really any calmer.
When Solalon addresses him, he glances back up to the raptorian instantly. The words seem strange for a moment - then he realises he's not being shouted at. That'll be why. “I will,” he assures, a hint of eagerness in his voice, no doubt fueled in large part by how intimidating Solalon is. His mouth opens - and closes again, deciding not to voice any further thought on the matter. To offer anything more would just grate; even Dakarai knows that much, even as he's straightened himself to a stand and is at full attention.
Not far from them, Iris has risen from his perch, wings flapping lazily, trying to understand the situation. There are a lot of things not being said, that much he knows, but it's a web of subtleties he struggles to grapple with. Everyone's behaving so strangely - but no matter, Dakarai isn't attacking anyone, nor is he being attacked, nor is he fleeing, so everything's fine.
Solalon directs a glower towards the human, already internally debating the merits of dragging him along by the scruff of his neck. Unfortunately, while that may help to relieve some tension, most of his anger right now is directed less at Dakarai as it is at the situation as a whole, including himself. And in all honesty, the boy's being much better-behaved than the last two times they interacted, as nothing he's said so far has sounded like an insult. ~Good,~ he snorts back. ~Start walking.~
In an almost all too rapid motion, Dakarai jerks one hand forward as he leans toward his rucksack - then he's grabbed a hold of it and turned, briefly casting his gaze through the ruins to orient himself. It's difficult, of course - and if he'd spent maybe an hour or two less meandering through this maze, he might not have enough of a bearing to find the direction of Taqnateh - but before Solalon even feels a tinge of impatience at the unwelcome pause before his instruction's execution, he's stalking toward where he knows Thorn is. It's a hazardous way up, of course… but that's how he came down and it was without a doubt the way the legendary would travel. Heading to the opposite end of the island just to hike up to Taqnateh afterward was no doubt an inexcusable delay.
The journey up to Taqnateh is somewhat perilous for Dakarai, owing to a combination of darkness, unfamiliarity, and the fact that the path they're taking is hardly safe for humans. Of course, none of these are issues for Solalon, leading to occasional bouts of frustrated dragging, in one case directly up a terrifyingly steep cliff face. In turn, the journey is somewhat frustrating for the Legendary, not being used to taking humans with him and somewhat unfamiliar with just how frail their bodies are under this much stressful travel.
Finally, just as the sky is beginning to light up with the first hints of dawn, they reach the summit, Taqnateh's partially-crumbled spires scratching at the sky. Mew is the first to greet them as they arrive in the Council chamber. She's delighted to see them, it seems, gleefully burying her paws in Dakarai's hair before popping off to get Jagdish.
The first azure traces of dawn are bleeding in lazily at the horizon.
Dakarai feels like he's burning up in a cold flame. Every major muscle in his body has made itself apparent to him, awash with an alarming tingle that flares up each time his heart beats. The palm of his left hand protests against a few fine lines of crusted blood, sharp rocks having done their part to bite at his flesh, and the nails of his hands look mangled - though fortunately only at the outer edges, he's lost none to climbing. He's exhausted - and wholly unwilling to accept as much. His body isn't giving him much of a choice, and with his perception of the world tipped into a spin and funnel like intense vertigo, he's caught in a kneel and the palm of his left hand slaps down against the warm, smooth stone of Council room. It's like the entire world consists only of breathing. Breathing is all there is.
Tiny hands seize at his hair, tussling it playfully, prompting him to blink as if struggling to see what the cause was - but it's obvious, for one, and he'd have to lift his head to truly spot Mew if he wanted the blink to have an effect.
Slowly, he brings his right hand forward to steady himself as well, half pushing, half dragging himself into a stable sit on his heels, shaping himself into something at least marginally presentable. The rucksack sags down to hang from his shoulders, no longer just sitting on his spine, and for a moment, he wonders if he should finish that bottle of water, if he's as dehydrated as he feels, but the sluggish train of thought is interrupted by Jagdish's arrival.
A glare lances itself at Dakarai, born of some unidentifiable emotion, before his professional composure sets in and he glances solemnly and respectfully at the Legendary accompanying his unlikely courier. “Solalon,” he greets, tone heavy with appreciation. “He's not given you too much grief, has he?” Pleasantries first, they could discuss what had brought Solalon up here afterward. Starting the conversation with a cautious and disappointed 'You disapprove, then?' merely marked an assumption that, while statistically probable, he simply didn't want to set the mood with.
A soft snort sounds from Solalon's nostrils, and a quick shake of his head causes his plume to sway back and forth between settling into its usual layers. ~I seem to have misjudged how fragile humans can be,~ he replies, casting his gaze down at Dakarai in irritation. ~So I take it his message was accurate, and that you did in fact send him to me to deliver it?~ His eyes turn back to Jagdish, his expression dour.
Jagdish nods once, before adding in clarification: “Obviously I don't know what he told you, but I did send him to deliver a message. I don't doubt that he did. He's surprisingly good at following orders.” His voice can't seem to decide whether he's mocking or complimenting Dakarai for the trait, but the brief casual amusement is quick to evaporate in favour of the more appropriate and customary sobriety.
Solalon scowls, his attention turning back to Dakarai once more. ~I don't doubt that,~ he replies, then closes his eyes, falling silent. When he speaks again, it's clear he's addressing Jagdish: ~Is that why you thought that he'd be well-suited to this role, or was there another reason besides that?~ There's a faint hint of irritation in his tone - is he upset with Jagdish about this?
“Well, if he's going to stay alive, he might as well make himself useful,” Jagdish remarks, conversationally, after another nod of acknowledgement at whether Dakarai's eagerness to follow orders played any role in the concept. “I'm sure there are other chores I can give him, but I feel this one has a certain… elegance. It should certainly give him a lot of time to think about what he's done.” The smile is delightfully straight-forward - here's someone who's simply enjoying a clever thought they had. There's not even anything sinister about his tone or demeanour, despite all the potential for it. He inclines his head lightly, hint of curiosity infecting him. “That being said, I have no interest in upsetting the Council, so if you feel I'm overstepping my liberties…” He trails off, tone matter-of-fact rather than apologetic, simply granting Solalon an easy way out should he choose it.
Solalon grimaces, but aside from that gesture does not respond to the implied question. Instead, after a tense silence, his eyes open once more, locking on Dakarai. ~Leave,~ he barks to the fallen human. Given Jagdish's reactions so far, he's in no danger of keeling over and dying, so there's no issue with discussing the rest of this matter in private with the Arbiter.
Jagdish's calm smile is unbroken by the implication that Solalon would like to speak to him in private, giving the Legendary room for plenty of taking a few chunks out of the Arbiter - verbal or otherwise. He doesn't seem to consider it likely, quite at ease in the knowledge that Solalon was not prone to outward anger.
Dakarai picks himself up unsteadily, breath laboured but unobstructed, and after the briefest moment of grappling for balance against the dizziness still strong in his skull, hurries off as best as he can without making a fool of himself in the process by simply falling over again. A short while later, he's gone - as is Iris, drifting after him with both wariness and concern.
Once Dakarai is well out of sight, Solalon closes his eyes once more and lets out a sigh of relief, tension visibly bleeding out of his form. There's a long pause before the Legendary's gaze turns to Jagdish. ~I'm not fond of this idea, Jagdish,~ he admits, tone much less formal, even friendly, now that they can speak with some privacy. It's a familiar phrase from the Legendary, one with an established subtext of '…but I'd be willing to be convinced.' ~The role itself I don't have issue with. It's something I'd quite like to have. It's just that… I'm sure you can understand why I'm uncomfortable giving him that much autonomy.~
“He's probably not aware how restricted it's going to be,” Jagdish counters, tone casual and friendly, betraying no strain. “After all, he's only to live on the condition that he's supervised. I assure you that's as important to me as it is to you,” Jagdish nods, closing his eyes briefly in emphasis of sobriety. “Iris would continue watching him indefinitely; he's already volunteered. Additionally, I expect Dakarai to check in with the nearest gym leader at least once a week. That being said, neither of those restrictions apply to the role itself… they're certainly just for Dakarai. There would be mighty little room for him to fall back into old behaviour.”
Solalon shuts his eyes, a light twitch of irritation crossing his face, dissipating an instant later. ~That would have been good to know sooner,~ he replies, shaking his head lightly, manelike plume rustling behind it in slow waves. After a few more moments of thought, his gaze finds Jagdish again. ~That's all well and good, but I'm still concerned. What if something should happen to Iris - whether it's Dakarai's doing or not?~
“That's what the gym leader check-ins are for. If it turns out that they're not happening, we hunt him down and eviscerate him slowly,” Jagdish explains, quite matter-of-factly, neither resentment nor cunning audible in his tone. “Though if it's just Iris you're concerned for, please don't take this the wrong way, but I'd rather you don't patronise him. He's quite capable of making his own life decisions and is certain that this comes with acceptable risks. I've made sure he's extremely lucid of them.”
~I'm concerned for all parties involved,~ Solalon clarifies. ~And I don't doubt that Iris has thought about this decision and understands the risks involved.~ He shifts into a sit, muzzle angling upwards in thought. ~…if I'm completely honest, I'll admit I'm less than comfortable with the idea of Iris taking responsibility for watching over him instead of you. I suspect part of that is simply that I don't know Iris nearly as well.~ A soft sigh. ~But you clearly trust him, and that helps a great deal.~
“The responsibility is still mine,” Jagdish explains, nodding once lightly in emphasis. “I don't intend to shirk it for a moment. It's still my neck on the line - which, in turn, should tell you just how much trust I place in him.” And Dakarai, if for wildly different reasons. Maybe he should emphasise that, too? He's not sure how to go about it without it feeling shoehorned in uncomfortably.
Jagdish's clarification prompts a contemplative silence from the Legendary raptorian. Even in letting Dakarai walk about Sehto with relative freedom, he's still willing to take responsibility for his actions. Even with the weekly gym check-ins, and even with Iris keeping a close eye on him, there's still so much potential for things to go wrong. He clearly must have some trust in Dakarai as well - otherwise he'd never even consider something like this. ~…very well. As long as you're still taking full responsibility for him, I see no reason to deny your proposal,~ he replies.
A nagging thought resurfaces, a small twitch of discomfort the only external sign until he voices it a few moments later. ~…if I may, I'd like to ask…~ 'If I may'? That's a bit of an odd phrase from Solalon; usually it was Jagdish requesting favors of him and not the other way around. ~…what exactly prompted this idea of yours?~
As the legendary acknowledges the decision, it becomes apparent that the barest traces of tension had held onto Jagdish's shoulders - and it dissipates, infusing his posture with a hint of casual lopsidedness. A warmer smile comes to dominate his expression. Really, if he had to pick one word to summarise his feelings about Solalon accepting the role of Observer and the notion of Dakarai as the same, it would be satisfaction. It felt like everything was falling neatly into place.
And then Solalon asks his question and Jagdish's thought process falters. It's not uncomfortable to contemplate, technically, but it's certainly unexpected… and he's not immediately certain what the answer should be. Even if the answer were simple but unflattering, he'd simply say as much - but he can't quote pride or stubborn intention. He can't quote any conscious thought at all. His brows knit lightly as he thinks about it. “I'm not sure, honestly. The already alluded to necessity to be creative about a lifetime incarceration, perhaps? Taqnateh isn't really laid out for that. Which isn't to say it's impossible, by all means, just… suboptimal. I suppose I wanted a better solution… and this came to mind and after I'd worked out the details struck me as a solid solution to the issue.” It's a little more frank than he's used to being with Solalon - usually, there are codewords and -phrases to consider while he speaks to the Legendary, little fragments that are mutually understood but less offensive when padded that way. Courteousness, not dishonesty. His current ramble wasn't courteous. Not by Council terms.
If Jagdish's wording put Solalon ill at ease, he's doing a very good job of disguising it. There's a slow nod and an audible exhale from the Legendary. ~I see.~
Good. He doesn't have to feel directly responsible for giving Jagdish the idea - though he still can't rule out his partial responsibility. His comment in the Council meeting about potential allies may have contributed at some level to Jagdish's thought process, even if it was only subconsciously.
~…unless there's anything else we should talk about while I'm up here, then, I think I'll take my leave,~ he says, eyes finding Jagdish once more. ~I'll let you inform him of my decision; I need to speak with the others. I'm sure some of them won't be happy about this.~ 'Some of them', in this case, being Crinyx. He's already mentally preparing himself for some of the others' reactions - Psynateh will probably agree; Icechel will likely agree once the obvious concerns are allayed; Fyrrcla won't be happy but will begrudgingly accept; Stasycl… he's not entirely certain, but he can't imagine she'd oppose him on this. Crinyx, though, would fight him tooth and claw over it. (Figuratively speaking.)
A certain fondness sneaks its way into Jagdish's expression. It seems strange, this relative calm between them, given that the Legendary had come here with Dakarai in near-literal tow. His left hand curls in on itself lightly and he inclines his head. “Just one thing,” he notes, tone respectful - before stepping forward and raising his right hand slowly, only to touch the fingertips of it against the start of Solalon's flowing plume just behind his muzzle, giving the spot a light, soothing rub that would be easily dismissed with a light twitch. “Thank you for everything.”
A sliver of tension winds its way into the Legendary's form at that initial motion, purely out of instinct. He's not very used to this particular form of affection, and certainly not from humans - not that Jagdish particularly counts as such, despite all outward appearances. He shuts his eyes and exhales softly, consciously willing himself to calm. ~You're very lucky I know you as well as I do,~ he comments after a long pause. ~Otherwise I'd be biting your hand off right now.~ There's a trace of humor in Solalon's mental tone, quite rare given his usual austerity, and a hint of a smile tugs at his features.
“I doubt that,” Jagdish quips, faux-sternly, scratching lightly at the base of the largest feathers, before almost cautiously letting his fingers drift away and his hand drop to his side again. “I need it in official capacity, after all.” Humour is apparent despite attempts to hide it for dramatic effect.
The smile widens subtly, and then moments later Solalon gives his neck a light shake, feathers shifting and rustling into a slightly more comfortable position. ~Quite,~ he replies. His eyes meet Jagdish's once more, and after a few moments of hesitation, his left forepaw lifts from the ground to rest on the Arbiter's shoulder, applying gentle pressure. That's a thing humans do to show affection, isn't it? He's pretty sure it is, at least. ~I should be on my way, then,~ he adds, mental voice back to its usual warm-but-serious tone.
Distantly, some part of him is already turning this over in his head, trying to figure out the best way to present it to the others - notably Crinyx. Thankfully, Corral Isle is a fair distance from here, so he'll have plenty of time to mull it over before informing him of the decision.