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The light of Tatenda's monitor wrestled the only other light in the room for the temperature of the room's illumination. The numbers weren't adding up and it was well past his bedtime; more coffee was simply not going to help him. Maybe it was time that he gave this particular engineering problem a rest for the night.
A glance at the clock in the bottom right corner of the screen revealed that it was 02:27. He had to be up in roughly four hours to get ready for a meeting at eight o'clock. By all measures, it was time to lay off the stimulants and go to bed.
“I'm surprised you're still up.”
The voice is both chillingly familiar and explains its own presence. No pokémon was going to ward off Jagdish Tsukinaka, unless someone held a gun to its head - and as it were, if one had a gun, one would be infinitely better off aiming it at Jagdish directly.
Sure enough, a glance reveals that's exactly who's visiting, evidently having let himself in - probably by gesturing to Tatenda's companion pokémon to kindly open the balcony door through the glass pane after noticing that the light was still on.
The first sigh was meant for these stubborn calculations, which just won't do, what he wants. Then his head rises, long, black, only some millimetres thick dreads noiseless following the motion, when he turns his face towards the voice speaking to him - must be him, no one else was here.
A short glance to the pokémon that does not seem to know what to do with himself, as if nervous, knowing he isn't supposed to just open doors late at night. But a slight smirk on the dark man's face shows he is not really angry, but understands his decision.
Given the fact that there never was any decision to be made. Jagdish's will will always have to be followed. So he lifts himself from the chair after turning around with it, his dark brown eyes with their golden veining showing a fascinating structure focused at his visitor. “I must have known you'd visit me,” he returns with a fine smile on his rather thin lips compared to the normally thicker ones of his people. “Pleasure to meet you again, Jagdish. It must be really urgent for you to visit me at this time.”
A little gesture invites the guest to follow him to some very comfortable looking seats, while he turn on some indirect light along the back of the couch. “May I offer you something?”
“I'm still nocturnal, my friend,” the unbidden visitor reveals with mild amusement. “I wouldn't have let myself in if you'd turned the light off, but… not to beat around the bush, I recently came into possession of something you might find interesting… and I'd be rather curious if you can figure out a counter for it, as it's stirred up a bit of a fuss with the Council.” His right hand rises, revealing a few inches worth of a narrow, black cylinder, balanced on one end against the inside of Jagdish's thumb, near the other end between his index and ring finger. It tells Tatenda nothing - but a moment later, it's casually being thrown his way. “It's a weapon.” And, sure enough, catching it, Tatenda can tell the ends of it apart and discover a mechanism to activate it… and a few cryptic settings to play with.
Not yet seated, Tatenda catches this strange device, still glancing at Jagdish, his look in parts sceptical, until his rather unusual eyes lead the way for his fingers to explore this thing in detail. As always his touch seems rather tender and caring, but still objective. His knowledge about mechanisms is shown, when he in fact does not yet activate it, until every part of it is carefully studied. “What is it for?”, he asks in a low, warm voice that reminds of a velvet touch, just without the normal seductive intention other people would express with it.
“It's a whip,” Jagdish informs him. “It has some interesting properties you might want to explore, though,” he adds. “Though you're a bright lad, I have a hunch you have a theory about those already.” Motion mostly silent, he shifts to half of a crouch, extending a delicate hand to scritch at the head of the Sneasel that's been trying hesitantly to get his attention.
Like always, when he does some physical 'work', Tatenda uses only one hand to wrap part of his braided hair around the rest at the back of his neck, restraining them from falling into his view and onto the thing he studies. To have better light he goes back to his desk, sitting down on his office chair and turning on the desk lamp. Still he does not activate the device, just look at it closely to get all the details. “A whip …”, he slowly replies, focused on what he's doing.
Then again he stands up, turning his back to his visitor and his companion to best not harm them, when pushing this one button that seems to be the activating one.
Abruptly, three wires unfurl from the inside of the device, falling against the floor like a listless artwork, a thin illumination emanating from them only barely visible in the light, a desaturated beige. Each wire looks to be approximately two metres long, but the glow is peculiar… and, given Jagdish's statement that this upset the Council, a creeping suspicion begins to occur Tatenda as to what might be causing it.
Motionless standing he looks at what was revealed from this thing now, but only his jaw starts to move, pressing his teeth together as if he tries to ease the upcoming tension that way. “Impossible,” he whispers rather to himself than to anyone else in this room. One elegant sidestep later the desk lamp stops lighting up the scene and the slender body wrapped in comfortable loose clothes of dark turquoise and violet.
A part of him, the researcher, wins the inner fight and the almost black thumb moves slightly to manipulate the device's settings.
Sure enough, the sheen changes to a dim red. And confirming that gut feeling prompts his pokémon companion to suddenly look alert and crowd subtly closer to Jagdish's left leg, keeping an attentive eye on those three lines.
Tatenda swallows slightly, his throat much too dry to really do so, after looking back to Barafai. “I'm sorry, Barafu …” Another fine movement of his fingers to change settings, trying to find the position his campanion might like better.
“Who made this?” His eyes focusing on Jagdish, more or less looking over his own shoulder to stand between the weapon and the alerted pokémon.
The wires flicker to green and Barafai's attention remains, but becomes considerably less tense. It looks like the pokémon's interest is piqued, but it doesn't seem to be alarmed any more.
“A man by the name Dakarai N'Sehla,” Jagdish comments, the barest hint of derision in his tone, subtle and hard to detect. “He hasn't quoted any collaborators. Doesn't seem the type, either; not much of a team player.” A hint of amusement tugs at the left corner of Jagdish's lips, as if there were a hidden joke to be found in those words that might be apparent if one gave it enough thought; but if it is, it's an in-joke.
For a moment Tatenda stands still, narrows his fine black brows and seems to think about that name. Something… no. “I see,” he just comments, his focus again centred on this whip. “I never thought this might be possible,” he mumbles more to himself, then gently moves the weapon, looking at the way the wires move. He deactivates it again and heads for another table, where some tools are scattered about, picking up some sort of tester to further investigate this weapon that obviously makes him nervous and unease.
“I assure you that makes two of us,” Jagdish comments. “If you take it apart, please make sure you can put it back together; I still need it.” The casual comment comes with a heavy-handed implication that the unfortunate circuiter who'd created this contraption was going to discover the pain it caused first hand; there certainly wasn't much leeway with one's interpretation to assume anything else. “For what it's worth,” he continues, as if nothing morbid had skimmed past the conversation at all. “I've already cautiously prodded at its innards, with some… guidance from the maker…” - with that he means bitter commentary about design that he could have done without and struggled not to consider purest malice on Dakarai's part - “…and it seems the different energies are stored in some sort of crystal, each. The motion of the wires themselves temporarily increase the respective selected energy and it unloads to almost the exact same degree when it strikes its target. Quite clever. As far as I understand what I've seen, the opening and closing is mechanical, so the blasted contraption doesn't even need batteries.”
Dark brown eyes, their filigree golden patterning almost glowing from that indirect light, look back to Jagdish and Tatenda narrows his brows again. “Energy crystals containing the essence of a pokémon's elemental powers, yes. But I never thought it would be possible to use this energy once accumulated in these crystals. I never found a way to do so.” Again his look glides over this fascinating thing. “It's amazing … and disturbing.”
The words seem to give Jagdish some pause - or at the very least, his reaction isn't immediate. Fingers stroke across Barafai's short fur for a moment longer, then gently detach as he pushes back to a stand. “The crystal technology is familiar to you?” he asks, uncertain if he parsed that correctly.
The dark lips slowly curl into a lopsided smile, showing both: Amusement and tension. “I invented this technology,” he then just reveals and lifts an eyebrow. “Thought you'd know that… since you brought this directly to me?”
The budding expression on Jagdish's reveals well before he's spoken a word in response that he had no idea - a borderline malevolent curiosity infects him, balanced out carefully by practised restraint. He's aware that the component parts of the weapon are not malicious in themselves - lest he'd have to judge the makers of any plastic casing ever - but the emotional reaction is still there, of course. No matter, it would fade. He certainly wasn't going to start letting it taint his relationship with Tatenda. “No,” he says, conversationally. “As I said, I thought you might be able to help me with a means to counter it, or anything like it that might be made in future.” A pause. “Though if you're already intimately familiar with part of the machinery, then I suppose we have a good chance that you can figure something out, don't we?” There's a very slight hint of something in the tone of his voice that doesn't leave Tatenda quite at ease.
The dark eyes widen visibly for a second and Tatenda gulps, his glance fleeing the other eyes. “Ehm… ehm… I-I see… well… uhm… yes, I… - I will see, what I can… do and… uhm… of course.”
With the fingers of his right hand idly playing with the edge of his left sleeve, Jagdish inclines his head, vague traces of something resembling an apology mixing into the predatory air, but not quite managing to win the battle of sovereignity over his body language entirely. “I'm laying little to no blame for this on you, Tatenda,” he says, slowly, with calculated caution. “You are not responsible for Dakarai's actions. As much as you may be a recent link in the technological basis for the device, its history has deep roots that go all the way back to the discovery of copper,” he reasons, though he still doesn't seem to be able to quite shake the air of Arbiter that Tatenda knows to be deeply wary of - and he sounds a little like he's trying to convince chiefly himself, though that might just be Tatenda's jaded nervousness talking. “You have nothing to fear from me,” Jagdish assures, tone still deliberately steady and smooth, staring across at Tatenda as if there were nothing else in the room at all.
Nervously Tatenda turns the weapon in his fine trembling fingers around and around and tries to put up a calm smile. “Oh, that's … that's really relieving!” Some sort of brief attempt to laugh about the situation occurs, but he stops it immediately, when he realises the amount of tension that can be heard from it.
For a moment he clears his throat, takes a deeper breath and tries to focus on his new and very urgent task. “Maybe… - maybe something that absorbs this energy and pulls it towards other energy crystals to store it there and… hmmm…”
“There's no rush,” Jagdish comments. “Just consider it an interesting puzzle to grapple with in your spare time,” he says, quietly stepping toward Tatenda until he's a few inches behind him and slightly to his left, placing a warm palm against his back between his shoulderblades, a gesture no doubt meant to be soothing, but sudden in its application from the researcher's perspective.
“Yes, it… ehm… - it will distract me from this project, where I'm actually stuck.” Tatenda nods slightly, the fine motion of his head pointing out a wall of numbers at his screen on the desk. But the sudden touch lets him gasp and freeze for a brief moment, his head turns sidewards, so his eyes can look back over his shoulder to this forever young man, who manages to make him this nervous just because he is Jagdish. The tiny hair in his neck standing on end, but hidden beneath the mass of thin braids.
Two fingers of the hand rested against Tatenda's back let their fingertips knead against his spine in a twin set of gentle motions, one strand of the braided hair trapped under that palm, slid in between ring and middle finger, the rest layered across it, forming a sharp visual border slanted past Jagdish's pale wrist. A moment later, he's bridged the remaining distance and slowly draped his left arm around Tatenda's chest nearly at height of his collar bone, grasping his right shoulder and giving it a squeeze. A curious expression searches Tatenda's face from a side-on perspective.
Such a striking distance of another body was rare in Tatenda's life - unless it is a pokémon or he has to work on something side by side with a co-worker. This kind of nearness was different - especially with this particular person.
So it is no wonder several feelings and emotions overrun him, making him shiver lightly, his slim but nonetheless visible muscles trembling from tension. This is no longer just nervous unease, but tickling sensation, which makes him insecure, not knowing how to react to this attempt of… well… which intention lies behind it?
Tatenda's lips form a thin line, but a light pink tongue tip shows for a brief moment to wet them, while his eyes try to read within the other's. “I… - I will do my best, I swear.” His voice is low, nothing more than a whisper.
“Calm down,” Jagdish comments, softly. “I'm not going to eat you,” he promises with some amusement. Slowly, his hand drifts back down from the grip of Tatenda's shoulder, and fingertips rest against his chest for a moment in the most casual possible gesture. “Just close your eyes and breathe slowly. I don't know precisely what mental corner you've backed yourself into, but as I do know I'm partly responsible, I'd like to make sure you get back out of it. So will you do that for me?”
Tatenda knows Jagdish can feel his throbbing heart, which beats as if he had run several miles. Why does he feel like a legitimate focus of the Arbiter's anger, while he himself seems to be easy and tries to calm him down? He gulps again, nods slightly and follows the advices - at least tries to.
A deep breath, wilful relaxation… but a basic part of him stays nervous and… yes… downright fearful, which is not pointless, it never was.
The fingertips against Tatenda's chest rest motionless against his ribs a little longer, then detach completely. “Better,” he says, the two syllables barely louder than a whisper. The palm of his left hand sets down against Tatenda's left shoulder as if in conscious attempt to mirror the earlier gesture, but it lingers only for a moment. “Are you calm now?” he asks, tone smooth foremost - and not quite communicating any particular emotion. Perhaps it's best that way, since it means there's no chance of a predatory undercurrent surfacing, either.
When he let go off him, Tatenda again tales a deep breath and tries to hide another shiver that runs down his whole spine to stay as some sort of slightly burning sensation at the tip of his coccyx constantly pulsating within his lower belly and crotch. And he just tries to ignore it, when he nods again.
✘ IN PROGRESS