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When the Parasect coalesces out of the crimson glow leaping from its pokéball, Tatenda and Jagdish are near the front of the cathedral, taking in the afternoon light through stained, colourful, but sun-bleached glass. A fine veil of dust lies in the air, making the slanted light visible. The pokémon is roughly a metre tall from ground up to the top of its doming mushroom, and fixes a curious, active gaze upon Tatenda almost immediately after appearing. A chitter in equal parts excited and curious spills from it.
Tatenda's thoughts are busy remembering this place and its very own magic, the uneasy feeling that crawls out of every gloomy corner, paired with the awe-stricken silence and ironic peace - ironic for the fact that pokémon fights take place here every now and then.
But then his awareness turns back to the present situation and the former gym leader smiles politely and calming. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Salt,” he addresses the pokémon directly. “I'm Tatenda, a friend of Jagdish, and I would like tot alk to you about your experiences. Are you okay with that?”
The Parasect peers to Jagdish as if uncertain, perhaps curious whether he should be engaging this stranger at all on the one hand, or whether it might be a new master for him on the other, given that he's expressed a desire to stay with a human. Then, after a pause almost too long to be polite, his attention veers back to Tatenda and he chitters.
“He's all right with that,” Jagdish 'translates', though at this point it's hardly necessary given the clear tone and context. “And wondering what experiences you mean, exactly,” he adds. A brief burst of sound from the Parasect results in Jagdish adding: “He suspects it pertains to Dakarai, but as that describes most of his life so far, he wonders what exactly you're curious about.”
The dark eyes of the nearly black-skinned man wander back and forth between Salt and Jagdish, while they speak to him. Then his head leans sidewards as he nods and focuses again at the Parasect. “Well, I'm generally interested in you and your life, but what I'm most interested in at the moment is everything you know about Dakarai's weapon, the whip he built. Also, how were your experiences, how did it feel… - everything you can tell me related to it… please.”
Predictably, Salt twitches a little, his large foreclaws clacking against each other ever so slightly in a nervous gesture. The eyes of the Parasect take turns in being half-closed and wide open, then he blinks. A soft chirr escapes him, trailing off. “He's not sure how to speak of that thing,” Jagdish translates, his gaze on the pokémon. A steady but hesitantly intoned series of sounds sound from the pokémon. “He doesn't know anything about the technical details, as he didn't witness its construction. From his perspective, it was just there from one day to another.” Jagdish pauses, letting Salt get some more unfiltered word in, before continuing with his translation: “He didn't feel its bite often, but it burnt like fire those few times, without ever being fire.”
Tatenda nods slightly and pauses a moment, takes a deep breath. “I'm really sorry about what happened,” he finally states, then takes a seat on an old bench - carefully to not destroy it. “It is the energy of fire, but not fire itself that hit you. Within the whip there are crystals filled with the energy of different types of pokémon.”
✘ IN PROGRESS