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The dusk breathed a breeze carrying a tinge of gold across the [[place:Taqnateh:cathedral ruins]] marking [[place:Taqnateh]]'s dominant building, adding bright highlights to the outlines of jagged silhouettes. Within the loose confines of a room long since devoid of both its ceiling and the integrity of three of its walls, [[pokémon:Vendetta]]'s currently running his left forepaw probingly across the surface of the one still standing, paying attention to the details of the structure, striding along it slowly and steadily. This place was just going to fall apart on them if they didn't keep an eye on it, after all.

<color #008888>High above the ground, [[pokémon:Mew|a small, pink-furred creature]] drifts lazily, curious eyes scanning the cathedral ruins below. It's been some time since they last had a visitor, and while [[character:Jagdish Tsukinaka|Jagdish]] was plenty of fun when trainers were around, it could occasionally get boring up here with so few people to play with. But, of course, she's more than capable of finding ways to entertain herself.</color>

<color #008888>Oh, look! In that ruined room over there, there's some motion! The small pokémon giggles lightly, then drifts slowly downwards, staying as silent as she can. Ooooh, it's Vendetta! This could be fun. With a soft 'pop', she winks out of existence, only to pop back in an instant later, a foot above Vendetta's head, landing on it with a soft 'thwump' and an eager "Meeewwww!"</color>

The pokémon twitches as the soft body impacts with his head as if in aborted instinct to duck, only to give his head a brief, firm shake, all the while tilting it to one side. ~Get off me,~ he insists, holding himself still, a tinge of unease in the otherwise so authoritative statement. The fine hairs along his spine raise - he's quite potently capable of dealing with her should she ever have the nerve to attack him, but she gives him the creeps and he has only minimal restraint for that emotion.

<color #008888>Mew giggles, tumbling off of the crown of Vendetta's head, forepaws holding onto his shoulder firmly as her body sways lightly under the pull of gravity, tail swishing to and fro. Then her tail starts curling straight upwards, followed by her hindquarters and her torso in fluid motion, until she's hanging in midair, upside-down, face hovering at eye level, forepaws still stretched out to lightly grip his shoulders. "Mew mew mew mew," she tsks at him, shaking her head lightly. Silly Vendetta, always taking everything so seriously.</color>

His left forepaw raises off the wall, hovering for a moment near her anchor on his shoulder, only to flick itself at it to gently but unmistakably break her hold on his shoulder, unease and grouch culminating in a grimace distorting his expression. ~Why not bother Jagdish?~ he suggests, his eyes narrowing. ~I am sure you are well aware he appreciates your presence infinitely more than I do.~ The dilemma, of course, is that he's entirely aware why Mew keeps bothering him: Because he doesn't appreciate her presence. Because she gets under his skin, with her voyeuristic, passive sadism. She's not oblivious, that much he's sure of - no matter how much she pretends not to possess coherent speech or ulterior motives, she's just as intelligent as he is.

<color #008888>The gentle flick sets Mew into a lazy spin, slowly tumbling head-over-tail in midair, seemingly without a care in the world. "Mewww," she whines gently. She vanishes, only to appear on Vendetta's opposite arm, curling her limbs around it and nuzzling his fur in the most impossibly adorable manner she can, tail twitchily waving back and forth in a slow rhythm. Nope, looks like she's not planning on leaving him alone any time soon.</color>

Oh good she's- goddamnit. Vendetta snaps his gaze around to shoots a glare at her. His arm rises in a peculiar way, as if he were first and foremost concerned in keeping her swirling tail away from his mid-section; then he gives it a light but persistent shake. ~I will not torture something for your pleasure,~ he announces, tone wary, entirely unsure what it even is that she wants of him but intending to go through all conceivable options until she's persuaded to leave him alone.

<color #008888>Mew loosens her grip slightly, letting herself slide around Vendetta's arm until she's hanging on from below. Then her grip tightens into a firm hug again, tail winding gently around Vendetta's arm just above the elbow. A soft purr escapes her, and she starts playfully licking at the fur of Vendetta's underarm.</color>

Gah, gah, gah. In an abrupt motion, he tries to grab her by the scruff of her neck to gently but firmly peel her off his arm. ~If you persist with your bothersome disregard for my personal space, I am sure Jagdish will forgive me should I lose my temper with you,~ he threatens, half-heartedly, more disturbed by her mannerisms than deeply frustrated just yet.

<color #008888>Mew offers minor resistance to being pulled off his arm, but ultimately her grip does relent. "Mewwwwwww," she whines plaintively, pawing gently at his arm. She struggles under his grip for a few moments, then relaxes, staring wide-eyed into Vendetta's eyes, almost submissively.</color>

He'd love to accuse her of a completely two-faced nature, but she'd never harmed anyone, making that particular insult untrue and uninspired. For a moment, he stares at her, trying not to be swayed by the obviously false deference, blatantly but no less effectively pandering to his ego as it is - then he does let go, snorting softly. ~I am trying to assess the integrity of the [[:Arbiter]]'s home. Your presence is distracting.~ Might as well try.

<color #008888>Mew tilts her head to one side, blinking slowly. "Mew?" she asks with a rhetorical tone. "Mew mew mew mew mew," she argues, closing her eyes and shaking her head slowly. "Mew mew mew mewww!" she adds, tone almost a whine towards the end - and as if to illustrate, she's decided to start tugging on his ears, twisting them this way and that.</color>

That particular handling prompts a growl from the purple-furred creature, nose wrinkling noticeably, eyes narrowing, a tinge of a glow infecting them. ~Last warning,~ he says, psychic tone flat. The idea of having to attack Mew was uncomfortable for him on two levels, crawling lightly under his skin - for one, he had a strong dislike for battle with trainerless pokémon; for two, she was undoubtably a formiddable opponent. He'd seen her battle before and knew not to underestimate her, but he was quite uncertain how she'd react to a threat this comparatively direct. She'd never battled without direct request from an ally before, but he knew better than to trust her to be consistent.

<color #008888>The implicit threat gives Mew a moment's pause, her paws still holding Vendetta's ears in a slightly awkward position, but no longer tugging and twisting them as she considers the warning. He's evidently quite serious about his earlier threat of attacking her. It's an interesting prospect, certainly - they've both watched each other battle; they both know not to underestimate each others' power, unlike all those silly trainers that come into Taqnateh; but she's genuinely not sure how such a thing would play out. She almost wants to push him, just to see what would happen as a result...</color>

<color #008888>But in the end, she decides, it probably would not be worth it. She'll just have to find some other way to wring some entertainment out of him. She utters an exasperated sigh and releases her hold on his ears, gently flopping against his head in resignation. "Mew mew mew," she comments in a dejected tone, and then with a soft 'pop', she's gone.</color>

Vendetta's tension lingers a few more seconds as he expects her to simply reappear at a different point in the landscape around him, only to evaporate quite abruptly as he realises she seems to have heeded his 'request'. For a moment, he stares numbly at the wall, questioning his sanity in not simply speaking to Jagdish and making one of his terms of cooperation 'Mew leaves', but the brief fantasy is quick to dissipate and his focus returns to the building and his inspection task.

<color #008888>For several minutes, Mew's drifting through the kitchen, hunting for anything of potential interest. Silverware's certainly shiny and fun to steal, but there's hardly any point if no one's using it at the time. There are some eggs, but fun as it might be to watch Vendetta's reaction to getting an egg dropped on him, it's possible he'd consider it aggression and attack her for it. What else, what else...</color>

<color #008888>Her eyes land on a steel bucket, a mop resting by its side. A mischievous grin spreads across her face - that has some potential. She floats down and lifts it with her paws, teleporting away with it an instant later.</color>

<color #008888>It's been maybe ten minutes since Mew's disappearance when she pops back onto a section of roof a layer above Vendetta's last location, hidden from his view, bucket idly hovering behind her. She sneaks forward, poking her head out from above a collapsed section of roof. Oh, good, he's still here, this is //bound// to be fun. As silently as she can, she levitates the bucket forwards. Careful... careful... just a little further.... As it comes into place just a metre or so over his head, she gives the bucket a telekinetic twist, and with a rush of sound reminiscent of a rainstick, it upends its contents - about a pound of sesame seeds - onto the (hopefully unsuspecting) pokémon.</color>

The sound of the tipping bucket announces itself, its hard-shelled contents describing a hollow melody across the metal even in the very first motions - and so Vendetta gets the rain of seeds roughly in the exact moment he looks up. With a hiss and abrupt tension to his shoulders and the lash of his tail, he squeezes them shut and snaps his head to the side, waiting for the unnatural rain to subside. Not even as much as an instant's wait after the last of the cascade has passed the threshold of his head, his eyes snap open, glowing brightly, muzzle distorted by resentment. A few rapid saccades later, he's made out the location of that offending pink glow - and an abrupt telekinetic yank grabs at her, trying to fling her off the roof and toward (but not onto) the ground, a frightening but harmless gesture for the moment. ~//You//,~ he snarls at her. ~//You// have just gone //too far//.~

<color #008888>Vendetta's rapid search is made a good deal easier by the sound of giggling coming from above and to his side as Mew watches his reaction. Ohhh, that was fun and satisfying and WHOOPS there goes her footing. The bucket wavers slightly in midair, threatening momentarily to follow its contents under the hold of gravity before stabilizing again under Mew's telekinesis. Her almond-shaped eyes go wide, staring up at him, and she utters a plaintive, high-pitched: "...Mew?"</color>

A second telekinetic grip slams into the bucket from the side, wrenching it from her grasp and knocking it into a spin and ricochet off the wall, a loud, intimidating sound even by itself. A blink of his eyes seems to ripple a subtle, temporary inversion across the tangible reality around her as he attempts to DISABLE her TELEPORT, expression a resentful sneer, in no mood to let his petty little mischief-making prey escape. His left hand curls itself to a fist, only to vanish beneath the thrumming darkness of a forming SHADOW BALL, and he grasps a near-crushing hold of her small form to hold it still for its future trajectory. ...that's gonna hurt if it hits. To be fair, he'd not kill her. ...would he? It's not a very good time to get second thoughts about that sort of thing.

<color #008888>Mew shuts her eyes tightly for a moment, trying to dispel the awkward sense of pins and needles travelling through her psyche. TELEPORTing away is out of the question now, it seems, and Vendetta's telekinetic grip is frighteningly strong, making floating away also out of the question. She stares at the forming SHADOW BALL, twinge of fear in her expression. Surely he wouldn't kill her over a harmless prank. He's not that spiteful... is he?</color>

<color #008888>Either way, he'd certainly //hurt// her, and that's something she'd rather avoid if possible. Mew's natural pink glow brightens briefly, and she closes her eyes in brief concentration, using PROTECT to surround herself with a pink bubble of force.</color>

The SHADOW BALL crackles as it escapes Vendetta's forepaw, only to explode across Mew's vision as it shatters against her PROTECT like a black paintball, only for the shrapnel or drops to morph to shadowed wisps and disperse uselessly. Vendetta hisses in frustration, yanking her closer as the shield disperses, only to snap one forepaw to grab at her tail, other intending to seize her by that tiny neck of hers. The light of his eyes has yet to dim and his expression isn't any less venomous. He knows better than to squeeze the life out of her, but he's convinced he'll feel much, much better if she's writhing a little.

<color #008888>The PROTECT bubble gives Mew a few moments to think and come up with a strategy for dealing with this mess she's gotten herself into. Attacking would be a terrible idea, and only serve to anger Vendetta further. Defending is not a bad idea, but has limited effectiveness - she could maybe PROTECT herself once or twice more before it would lose its effectiveness, and Vendetta doesn't look likely to give up that soon. Fleeing is the best idea, but temporarily unavailable until the DISABLE wears off. Calling for help is an option, but up here it's unlikely Jagdish would hear her cries, and calling for him psychically has its own disadvantages.</color>

<color #008888>As Vendetta grabs at her tail, a fifth option presents itself. Very well. He can have a little fun at her expense, if that's what he wants. All she needs to do is not die - and preferably remain conscious, too. She jerks under his grasp, crying out a loud "MEEWWWWW," as his forepaw closes around her neck. She twists in his paws, legs kicking at his wrist, struggling to free herself.</color>

The fingers around her neck are squeezing against her neck punishingly... but it's too easy. It's too easy, she's being a doormat about it, relatively speaking - she's a legendary, she could do damage if she wanted, she could wear him out, she could do plenty to defend herself - and it bleeds the aggressive enthusiasm out of him quickly. This is no Worthy Opponent he should feel prompted to some abstract duel by. This is Mew.

Mew, who dumped a bucket of seeds on his head for no other reason than one of her juvenile pranks. Mew, who was no doubt acting in accordance to some inner scheme. Mew, and that manipulating, voyeuristic, sadistic attitude which he so resented. The light of his eyes briefly flares brighter - then he's let go of her neck again and swung her down toward the ground by her tail, hoping to get a satisfying but ultimately near-harmless impact out of the sudden, forceful motion.

<color #008888>Mew lets herself thud against the ground, coming to rest in an awkward half-sprawl. She's free, now; she could certainly fly away if she wanted to, but it's obvious that Vendetta's lost interest in trying to injure her. Aches and bruises, but nothing worse than that - no broken bones, no cuts, she's just a little roughed up. Certainly no good reason for her to be lying there, almost motionless, as if she's playing dead. Unless she's waiting to see what he'll do next?</color>

A moment later sees the toes of his left foot set down against her small shoulderblades, a fraction of his weight pressing against them - enough to be uncomfortable in itself, and mildly painful in the form of the uneven, partly lightly spiky ground she's now crushed against - a low growl surfacing from him, eyes dimming back down as he narrows them. ~You're a disgrace,~ he snorts, the blood in his veins feeling as if it were truly boiling, or something were trapped under his skin and crawling along his limbs, own tail lashing lazily through the air, tip tracing an infinity sign. His breath is audible - it's evident he's still battling his rage down, but she's not giving him much to fuel it.

<color #008888>The silence following Vendetta's comment is broken by a series of soft sounds spilling from Mew. At first it sounds like it might be a cough, before it evolves into an amused chuckle. "Mew mew mew," she comments, barely stifling a giggle. Apparently she's found something highly amusing in his comment, but given her bizarre sense of humor, it could be almost anything. A moment later, she's twisting slightly under Vendetta's foot, then licks playfully at one of his toes. ...she's not taking this seriously at all, is she?</color>

More of the Mewtwo's weight abruptly shifts into the paw she's trapped beneath, morphing into something a little less forgiving, making her motions a little more difficult. A fresh snarl spills from the larger biped, but it's unmotivated - less out of mercy or compassion and more out of derisive pity and indifference. His grip on her tail twists at it, barbing a particularly vicious form of discomfort up her spine, before the reaffirmed grip turns into something fractionally more firm, and the sensation of a hot blade rips through her in an instant, reaching every fibre of her body, passing under her skin as if all of the same had been pulled off her in single abrupt motion enough to register the shock of it without that the raw brunt of the pain had yet to set in, the crackle of a THUNDER lingering even after the fact as a painful layer of pins and needles, like a nasty, stubborn form of static electricity. Within her chest, her heart and lungs ache in complaint, twisting nausea into her gut as a visceral alarm.

<color #008888>Mew cries out as the THUNDER crackles through her body, in spite of her own attempts to curb that reflexive reaction. Her heart is complaining, her lungs are complaining, her stomach and skin and tail are all complaining, now is definitely time to get away. After several heavy breaths, she finally manages to dispel the last of the mental block Vendetta's DISABLE put in, and with a soft "mew," she TELEPORTs away.</color>

<color #008888>An instant later, a certain gymleader gets a lap full of pink legendary psychic pokémon, mewing and occasionally convulsing under the lingering effects of Vendetta's attack.</color>

Vendetta's foot lurches down the few centimetres, jolting involuntary motion through his body, though far removed from tipping him off balance. Nonetheless, with only the vaguest residue of Mew drifting like a faint line of ash through the air between the forepaw of his that had clutched her tail, a fresh snarl escapes him and for a moment, he's tempted to 'follow', despite having only a hunch where she's vanished off to. Then the moment and the last hints of her existence are both gone.

...hopefully, she'll at least stay away for a while now.

Within the cathedral, Jagdish is currently sat in what passes as a living room - a reasonably spaceous area with a collection of seating opportunities and no fireplace to complete the picture. There is a shelf with books, though - a small choice collection of everything //not// pertaining to cooking (that was stored in the kitchen itself), and the extra warmth someone might need when sitting more immobile than not in the sort of climate Taqnateh came with simply came from a thin, warm, artificial-fibre blanket currently tightly wrapped around Jagdish Tsukinaka, an orange juice sitting on the table beside him, posture lopsidedly casual. Mew appears half beside, half on top of pages 44 and 45 of 'Tribe of Dusk', a book detailling a group of travellers in a mythological world following the path of the twilight band of their alien world, tracing its surface in a perpetual quasi-circle.

For a moment, he doesn't react other than to have the sentence he's read interrupted, prompting blink. Then Mew's state becomes apparent to him and the hair on the back of his neck bristles, jaw setting, rest of him still held immobile as he considers how to move without causing the creature any more harm. "Mew," he says, his voice a passable simulacrum of normal pleasantry, concealing most of his tension. "What happened?" Meanwhile, he's discovered the path of least resistance and slid the book out from under the parts of her obscuring it, closing it without as much as a second glance, placing it on the table beside him while occupying a part of his mind with plans about how to best get his hands on a potion from his current location. He could bundle Mew up in the blanket and let her wait here for him, but right now he's genuinely not entirely sure how much he can move her without causing undue pain. He's equally not sure how well she can answer his question, but at least that'll be determined in a moment.

<color #008888>Mew coughs a few times, her scorched tailtip idly tracing patterns in the air, occasionally twitching from the nasty electric shock. "Mewwwwww," she whines softly, rolling onto her side, almond shaped eyes staring up at him widely. Either she's in bad enough shape that she can't answer his question right now, or she just doesn't want to.</color>

He knew her theatrics well, and just how much stamina she was capable of. If this were the product of some outside force, she'd be quick to report as much, for the safety of everyone in Taqnateh. By implication, this wasn't caused by some visitor, which really only left one of the pokémon inhabitants of Taqnateh, and it was rather obvious which one was the most likely candidate.

Some of his tension dissipates. "What did you do to Vendetta?" he asks with a light grimace, though his tone is still thick with concern. Cautiously, he leans forward a little, then slides his right arm under the edge of the blanket cocooning him, folding it up against Mew carefully, gaze almost exclusively anchored on her. "You should really know better than to provoke him," he sighs, clearly displeased with the outcome of whatever spat the two had.

His left arm's wormed its way under the blanket from his torso's side, palm of his hand cautiously sliding under Mew's quivering shape, lifting her featherweight off his lap. His right hand gently sets down on the bundle of blanket-and-Mew and a moment later, he's rising, then sets her down on the seat of the armchair.

Then he's crouched at the foot of it, looking at her with concern. "Will you be all right if I leave you for a few minutes to get you a potion?" he asks. He could just as easily summon Vendetta and make him fetch one for him, but if Vendetta had caused this, summoning him now seemed like the worst kind of idea.

<color #008888>Jagdish's suspicions are confirmed by a light squirming motion and a faux-indignant glare. Provoke him? What makes him think she provoked him? A few moments later, her gaze shifts, dodging his. Wellll, okay maybe she provoked him a //little//, but she was just trying to have some harmless fun. She simply hadn't expected he'd be enraged enough over it to actually attack her. Or at least, that's the story her body language seems to convey in between the twitching.</color>

<color #008888>A shudder runs through Mew's light body as she's lifted, but otherwise there's no sign of distress from her. There's a pause after Jagdish's question, followed by a small nod and a quiet: "Mew." She'll be fine, as long as Vendetta doesn't decide to show up and try to finish her off while Jagdish is gone.</color>

For a further moment of indecision, Jagdish grimaces lightly, staring at the tiny heap of fur and flesh and bones. He should probably scold her. He can probably get away with it, especially since she's clearly come to him, identifying him as a person of trust. And yet it's like talking to a wall - he knows that regardless how much she'll swear to behave herself better in Vendetta's presence, she'll do no such thing. It'd be a waste of their time - and she could really use a heal.

He closes his eyes, exhaling with some tension, then inwardly dismisses the topic, rising back to a stand, then walking from the room to find something to heal her with. He's not concerned about leaving her on her own. Vendetta, while certainly a more malicious creature when alone with someone, was not likely to seek her out, and if he was, it was to apologise in his own way - presumably sneer at her a bit and tell her to toughen up. Either way, she's in no danger.

✘ **in progress**

{{tag>[raw]}}