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The next time Salt's perception coalesces into existence around and within him, timeless stasis dissipating just shy of an impression of never having happened in the first place, instinct of course is that he's been called out for another battle. The most obvious indicator of the change of scene is that he's no longer hurting - he remembers passing out a while ago, though the details a fuzzy in his memory beyond the sting of cold. The architecture looks familiar, though… and if there weren't a table in the middle of the room, it might be a plausible area for some sort of rematch. Instead, Dakarai is nowhere to be seen. Instead, his opponent is crouched on the tiles beside Salt, briefly spawning the unpleasant mental image of having been traded to another trainer, of having done badly enough to be discarded by his master.
Forelimbs are rubbed together as he looks around for his trainer. Dakarai would be here. Would he be upset? Losing was bad but his trainer understood sometimes other pokémon were stronger. Maybe losing without putting them to sleep was unforgivable and he'd been abandoned even though he was proud of being called useful.
The thought made him cold (but a different sort of cold to the cold earlier, that was painful ice frozen cold and not nervous disappointment failure cold) but the human in front of him didn't seem so bad. Sort of dappled sun warm and that didn't make sense at all. Salt shuffled and wondered if he'd be punished for moving closer anyway.
“Hello,” the stranger says. The tone is something Salt has troubles placing - he's certainly not had much opportunity to be exposed to it, but if he thinks about a little, the human appears to be being… friendly? A delicate hand extends toward him, flat of the palm turned in his direction, attentive eyes fixed on him, hand intending to come to rest against the firm surface of the mushroom. The fingers wouldn't be very threatening even in a different context - they're frail and the arm they're attached to doesn't look like it could deliver much of a blow, and they're very clearly not wielding Dakarai's weapon, so it would be trivial to reach up and crush them should they try anything. “Pleased to meet you. I'm Jagdish,” the human is saying, as if it were mistaking Salt for an equal. What an odd notion that would be!
Both clawtips were delicately rested on the ground. He didn't want to seem threatening. He didn't feel the urge to either and that was a little strange, there was a stranger in front of him but the stranger seemed nice and had introduced himself so he wasn't really a stranger, was he?
This wasn't a battle so there was no harm edging slightly close to the not-stranger Jagdish, was there?
“Do you have a name?” Jagdish asks, curiously, shifting from his crouch into something of a side-on sit, clearly unafraid of Salt. It's like hanging out with an old friend one's just inconveniently forgotten most of anything about. The question is strange, of course - it's not like Salt can pronounce his own human name, and since when do humans ask about what pokémon might potentially call themselves? The human's other hand rests itself lightly on the top curve of Salt's right foreclaw, and the one against the mushroom's elephant-like skin rubs across it soothingly.
“<Salt, but not know how to tell you that,>” the Parasect responded. Humans had markings they could share and the pokémon wondered if he could scratch some of those into the ground but the floor wasn't sand or dirt and he didn't know which symbols to scratch anyway.
The petting was nice. Dakarai didn't give pettings, just punishment. Maybe getting traded to Jagdish wasn't so bad.
“Is the name your trainer gave you your only name?” Jagdish asks with curiosity, not incredulousness, his gaze having wandered to the texture of the mushroom as if concerned about causing any potential harm. The greatest surprise, of course, is that a statement as abstract as the one Salt's just shared with Jagdish would be understood. Or it's a freak coincidence - it could always be a coincidence, right?
Jagdish was acting like he understood but he was a human and couldn't understand so he had to be talking just to be soothing. Yes? Unless he was a human-shaped pokémon but then he wouldn't be speaking or wearing clothes so he couldn't have understood.
Salt shook his head no at the second question and tentatively nudged at Jagdish's knee. Definitely human. But nice human.
“But it's the one you identify with,” Jagdish observes, softly. “Salt it is, then,” he smiles. “What would you like me to do with your pokéball, Salt? You're not attached to it, are you?” That, of course, makes for an especially cryptic question. Why would his new trainer ask him about his opinion of his place of stasis? It was a useful device, objectively speaking - it meant pain stopped sooner rather than later, after all, but it also tended to mean that pain happened in the first place, and it wasn't something Salt had ever had much of a choice about.
✘ IN PROGRESS