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plot:n-sehla:2012-12-29

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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 its 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 and 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.

IN PROGRESS

plot/n-sehla/2012-12-29.1356762121.txt.gz · Last modified: 2017/11/18 21:34 (external edit)