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With Mew curled up against the back of Jagdish Tsukinaka's neck, purring contentedly and only partly lucid with her mind suspended in half a nap, drunk on the excitement of the day, tail restlessly sweeping and twisting through the air beside him, the gymleader looks a bit lost amidst the landscape, sat with his arms in his lap on what had once been a chunk of wall and now resembled a boulder more than anything else. He's sitting in an open room in the second floor of the cathedral, Mew's dim pink light the brightest for a while, bathing the edges of the building in a rose tinge, his expression pensive and grave, waiting for his summonned guest, watching the stars twinkle, gooseflesh from the chill of the air quite firmly established on his bare arms, but without shivers to go with it.
He quite disliked having to call for Solalon - for one, the legendary was, after all, somewhat firmly associated with his task as Arbiter, for two, while easy to cross for the creature, the distance between Vereheq and Taqnateh was nothing to sneeze at, and it simply felt like he was imposing each time he sought to speak to the majestic pokémon outside of standardised official capacity.
The silence of the night is pierced by the sound of claws landing on the stone roof of the Taqnateh cathedral, and a long moment later, a golden-white glow can be seen filtering down from the same. A familiar raptorian shape picks its way across the rooftop, coming to the edge above Jagdish's current location before, pausing briefly before leaping down, landing gracefully a few meters from the gymleader.
Solalon shakes his neck lightly, letting his plume settle before he turns to face Jagdish properly. ~Greetings, Jagdish,~ he addresses. ~And Mew,~ he adds with a light nod. The small feline purrs and offers a soft “Mewmew”, but otherwise gives little response. ~You called for me?~ the raptorian legendary asks, shifting into a sit as his attention comes to rest fully on the larger and more human of the two.
The soft pink glow ends up dwarfed by the warm radiance of the legendary, making more detailed features of the cathedral's structure apparent, weathered wallpaper of this exposed room showing its cracks, blisters and moisture-smudged colour. “Solalon.” Jagdish rises slowly and tips his shoulders forward just enough to denote something of a bow, careful in the same motion not to let Mew tumble off his shoulders, then lets himself sink back down onto the boulder, adopting a bit of a slouch despite himself.
“As Arbiter, I have a formal request to make,” he says, slowly and clearly. “Specifically, that N'Sehla be allowed to live. I have firm reason to believe he wasn't altogether truthful in his trial.” The words make for an interesting paradox - normally, when Jagdish uses the phrase 'wasn't altogether truthful', punishment is best adjusted to something more severe. That he'd be requesting more lenience is… unusual.
The legendary's muzzle adopts a hint of a frown and his eyes narrow slightly, even as his head tilts to the side in confusion. It's unusual for Jagdish to request leniency on one who had been deemed deserving of death. In fact, this is the first time Solalon can recall such a thing happening. Could he be beginning to grow soft in his role as Arbiter? There's a long pause, before he replies: ~I'm afraid you're going to have to elaborate.~
There was a part of Jagdish that viscerally wanted to simply say 'forget it' and continue with his duties simply to punish Dakarai for having had the audacity to manipulate his hearing, regardless in which direction, but for one, he'd called Solalon here and he owed him an explanation, and for two, he simply didn't have enough sadism in him even out of rage to see that smouldering urge through to the end. As such, it simply gnaws at his psyche, sapping his energy to continue, slowing thoughts and his demeanour to a crawl. He's usually prompt to answer. Now, his gaze is loitering around on the ground almost indecisively, light frown on his face. “Despite all claims on the contrary, he didn't know what he was doing.” A pause. “I know he said otherwise in the trial, and neither you nor I had reason to doubt it, given the dire circumstance, but…” He exhales. “Lets be honest with each other - we weren't really looking for signs he might have acted without thinking. We'd made up our minds and he played right into our expectations. I'm sure if we'd been a little less predisposed, we would have picked up on the inconsistencies.” He glances up at Solalon, his glance one of a flustered sort of frustration.
A vague sense of discomfort worms its way into Solalon's shape. Jagdish believes that N'Sehla didn't know what he was doing, in spite of the depth of the hole he'd dug himself in the trial - and while it's hard to conceive of Jagdish being mistaken on such things, it's equally hard to conceive of the alternative. ~…you're saying that he purposely lied in the trial… to make himself look worse?~ There's a note of incredulousness in the mental tone. ~Or did he not realize that he was condemning himself to his fate, either?~
“…no,” Jagdish comments, an awkwardness touching his posture, spine held straight now, but shoulders themselves still slouched forward, demeanour plainly not because of Mew's rest on his shoulders but out of a deeper cause. “From my recent conversations with him, he was quite lucid about what he was doing. I suppose he thought we were going to be too easy on him if he was honest.” There's a bitter amusement in Jagdish's tone. “He's not happy with what he's done at all, that much is clear, and I assure you it's not because the past days have beaten it into him.” A pause. “He disapproves of my speaking to you about this - he essentially begged me not to reconsider.” He shakes his head slightly, visibly perturbed by the whole situation. It was one thing to have to ask for lenience, it was quite another to do so without the consent of the victim. And there was no end to the amount of backwards this felt, though he'd at least gotten over the instinctive sting of undermined authority by now, even if he still wasn't quite at the point of forgiving the twit the elaborate facade itself.
Solalon's muzzle dips, a contemplative frown tugging at his lips as he considers this for a long moment. ~…If he purposely chose not to properly defend himself at the trial, I'm strongly tempted to consider that an error in his judgment, not ours,~ he finally replies. ~We have to rely on the evidence seen at the trial to make our decisions, otherwise the trial itself is meaningless,~ he argues.
Jagdish nods, closing his eyes a touch longer than a blink. “I concur, up to a point,” he comments. “I don't think we made an error during the trial and I am very… displeased with his deception,” he begins, strange emphasis on the word 'displeased', suggesting it a strong euphemism. “But I cannot in good conscience continue with his sentence now that the circumstances that prompted it have been called into question like this; or rather, disproven.” His hands knit into each other and he glances down at them nervously.
Mew stirs, issuing a soft sound as if roused by his statement, tilting her muzzle by rolling her head against him idly, staring at his face in profile. Her tail gives a particularly energetic flick. Gradually, a dejected air infects her.
“If it's any consolation, I'm quite sure a decision to let him live would hardly be in his favour. It means getting up every day and seeing himself in the mirror,” Jagdish argues, dispassionately but nonetheless sincerely. “But I think it would be the fair and reasonable decision.”
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