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Cecile… wasn't in. Rhaptor's been here before, that much is clear, since someone else on the floor's recognised him, smiling at him with some token confusion, and let them both into the gym. Elena could probably just get rid of her berries by giving them to someone else, but Rhaptor was going to wait until Cecile came back from her errand. He's currently ambling around in the back of the gym where Cecile lives, collecting some stray items cluttered about and sorting them into place without as much as a second thought, Iris quite literally sitting on his head, giving little token noises of complaint each time he leans down a little too quickly, air nudging against the pokémon's wings as he does. Books are getting bookmarks and alphabetically sorted, mugs are getting temporarily stored next to the sink, and a thin blanket finds itself untangled from the furniture and neatly folded.
Elena couldn't shake the impression that she really shouldn't be here. It wasn't as if she normally delivered directly to Cecile and now she was in the personal chambers of someone she had only a passing acquaintance with. Who knew how many people irregularly delivered stuff to someone as important as a gym leader? And sure, she'd gotten help teaching Sarchus but that was a while ago and there were so many people passing through on a daily basis that they'd be small fry.
So. Really, what was she doing here? Absolutely no reason beyond Rhaptor insisting and being stubborn enough for her to give up protesting. He at least seemed comfortable playing maid. She on the other hand was standing nervously to one side of the door clutching her cardboard box of berries to her chest and trying very hard not to be too curious about what was in here.
“I can probably get away with making you a drink,” Dakarai comments, pausing to look across at her, a hint of amusement in his expression at her nervousness. “What would you like?” Not 'would you like something?', no, he's skipping right past that and making everything even more awkward. If he gave even marginally less of an impression of being 'at home' here, this would feel like a particularly unusual case of breaking and entering.
“Nothing, I'm fine!” she almost squeaked. Taking a moment to steady her voice she continued: “I don't like 'probably', and I'm fine, I'm not thirsty, and if I am later I'll just go downstairs and ask for a cup of water. If I got chased out of Njoty by a gym leader my parents would kill me.” Elena gave a wry smile. “Well, they'd kill me for not having gotten the badge first, but details.”
He's hovering almost comically in the middle of some motion he'd initially paused to ask her that question, until her statement about the badge lets him sober up from whatever absent-minded enthusiasm is driving him to this energetic sweep through Cecile's quarters. “Why would they kill you for not getting a gym badge?” he asks, a stern tinge to his voice, though it could easily be born of some playful urge. He seems otherwise in a good mood, at any rate, straightening himself into a casual stand, looking at her with curiosity.
“Okay, 'kill' is an exaggeration,” she admittedly playfully. “But they've been strongly suggesting I should do the circuit since I was… about fourteen, I think? Before that I think they just assumed I would. They're from Kanto, they met doing the gym circuit there and apparently it's a big thing?” Elena shrugged. “Maybe they think it'll give us something in common to bond over.”
His supposedly playful stare persists just fractionally longer than would be fitting. “I see,” he concludes, smiling, though something about the tone of his voice suggests he'd much rather have said something else. If they weren't currently in a pokégym, waiting for a gym leader's return, she might assume he's just politely refraining from ranting about how letting pokémon battle at all was some abomination, but if he's friends with gym leaders, surely he can't be particularly aversed to the notion of someone doing the gym circuit? Compared to the average Sehtoan, at least. “What made them leave Kanto?” he finds himself asking, defusing the awkward air with a friendly enquiry.
She raises an eyebrow and wonders what she said wrong. “I don't know, it happened before I was born, I've never left Sehto.” A pause. “Do you have a reason to dislike Kantoans?” she asked cautiously.
'Other than their ridiculously pervasive pokémon misconceptions that are borderline psychopathic, not in the least,' was not going to go down well. Time to roll out the next best thing - also the truth, just not all of it. “Not particularly,” he shakes his head. “But I was under the impression Kanto - and Johto, if to lesser degree - had a certain negative opinion of Sehto in recent decades, so the notion is a bit counter-intuitive. I suppose with my social standing… or lack thereof… saying 'I don't know any recent immigrants' isn't really much of a statement, but… colour me surprised?” he attempts to explain.
Elena struggles to parse that. “I think they came because of a job? Something to do with Silph Co,” she offered uncertainly. “But like I said, I've never been here. I haven't even been to the southern parts of Sehto. I mean, I've considered attempting the circuit just an excuse to go and see the island, but obviously it involves a lot of pokémon battling, so yeah no. Maybe I should pretend to so many parents get off my back and just make a trip giving cupcakes to the gym leaders?” Not a very practical plan given one didn't earn badges by bribery, but it was an amusing image that hopefully would lighten the mood.
“Cupcakes,” he echoes, in a tone that could be misinterpreted as incredulous rather than a stunned, amused delight. The follow-up statement resolves it, fortunately. “Do that,” he encourages. “You'll make a lot of people very happy.” A pause later, he adds: “Though, word of advice, skip Kzye City.”
That wasn't the reaction she was expecting. Having Rhaptor think it was a good idea, or offering advice. “Why? Is the Kzye gym leader gluten intolerant? I know a nice sticky toffee that doesn't have any in it.”
“Oh, no,” Dakarai comments, conversationally. “Just I'd hate to see to see him taking inspiration and baking you into one.” He smiles. “Psychotic tendencies,” he adds after a moment's pause. “Not a very safe individual.” His shoulders tip into a light shrug and he brings his right hand up to touch the back of his neck in something of an idle scratch.
Elena looked at him askance. “If he's unsafe and psychotic, how on earth is he a gym leader? I thought interacting with people and pokemon was the biggest part of the job?” Maybe he was exaggerating and she was missing the joke? Or there could be bad blood there.
“Good question,” Dakarai comments, though he doesn't sound like he's about to fill her in as to what exactly got the man his position. The grin is unmistakable, though, as if he were completely delighted she was asking that question - he evidently concurs he shouldn't be. He does, however, sober up a little a moment later and give an attempt at an honest partial answer: “He doesn't kill anyone, he's just a prankster with a rather alarming 'sense of humour'.”
Ah, right, one of those. Add on being a pokémon trainer and potentials rapidly grew more alarming. The man probably had his Venusaur ninja-hug people or some other alarming stunt like that. “So toffee in his mailbox instead, got it. Extra sticky glue your mouth shut for half an hour toffee,” she suggested with a sly grin.
The mental image is certainly amusing, but Dakarai finds himself lightly cringing regardless. “He might take it as a challenge,” he comments, tone one of humour as much as caution, an odd mixture. He's not giving the impression that there's bad blood between him and the Kzye gym leader, at least, much as he's warning her away. There's no hatred or outrage in his demeanour, at any rate.
“…who let you in.” Cecile's voice is flat, but restrained from anything too threatening. It seems she's dispassionately crossed the expanse of the gym proper without any comment whatsoever, addressing them without shouting, but nonetheless a wire of discontent lancing through her. Judging by how her glare is fixed to Dakarai, 'you' mercifully doesn't pertain to Elena.
“Colleague,” Dakarai comments, minimalistically, smiling. “Good to see you,” he adds, cheerfully.
Cecile stares at him for a moment, clearly fighting with some emotion, before exhaling carefully and letting her shoulders sag. “Most people wait outside,” she reminds Dakarai, distantly aware that prefixing that with 'most people' would probably just serve as encouragement. “…I suppose that wouldn't be nearly as aggravating,” she adds, as a way of explaining it to herself instead. Combined with her gaze finding Elena, she lightens up from her initial displeasure. “Hello,” she greets. “Rhaptor's not given you any grief, has he?”
“Not at all! He, Iris and Paragon helped me with a tricky berry plant,” Elena hurriedly offers while feeling slightly defensive. “Um. I know I probably should have just left these with someone but I wasn't sure if you had any specific requests for the next batch and I didn't see anyone I recognised, and Rhaptor said this was okay, and um…” She held up her cardboard box like a shield. “Tasty status cures?”
Cecile regards Elena with a friendly amusement. “That's very kind of you,” she says to her, inclining her head with a hint of curiosity, peering at the box, but not to detriment of keeping an eye on Elena, a little concerned she might be spooked. “You're always welcome here, if you're concerned about that,” she appends. “Can I offer you anything?”
“I'm fine,” she insisted, and private wondered if pressing drinks on people was a custom unique to Sehto or if it was broader. That threatened to let silence strain uncomfortably long though and she was curious about what had been previously said. “Well, maybe something. This is a weird question, but Rhaptor suggested that offering baked goods to the Kzye City gym leader is a bad idea. Would you agree?” And if that didn't work to derail the conversation nothing would.
The question serves to catch Cecile off guard. “…Keith?” she finds herself asking, somewhat in reflex. She glances at Dakarai with some confusion, then back at Elena. “Rhaptor's been feeding you horror stories?” she asks, bemused. “Keith Sirius is a bit strange, but nothing to worry about. …why are you thinking of offering him baked goods?” She grins a little, curious, amused by the notion.
“My parents are pressuring me to do the gym circuit again,” Elena said with a bitter smile. “And I'd like the excuse to see the island, but I don't want to battle. Nevermind not having a large enough team or, you know, the actual ability to win. So I joked maybe I should tell my parents I was doing it and just travel around giving cupcakes to the gym leaders instead. I'd bring you some too!” she finished with humour reining once more. It wouldn't be the first time she'd offered sweets as a thank you to Cecile.
“If it's an excuse to tour the island you want, why not just tag along with Rhaptor for a while?” Cecile suggested in amusement. Fair's fair, if he's going to aggravate her, she can play that game, too, just as innocently delivered. “I've got a chore for him, he'll probably be travelling for a while,” she adds, shooting a playfully ominous glare at Rhaptor in the meanwhile.
She turned to him, curious. Well, he had mentioned that he knew all the gym leaders so presumably he was frequently bounced between them. Would she object to a trip with someone who knew how to get places? Probably not. Although Elena was bright enough to want to know what this chore was first, because if it was something particularly unpleasant like squelching around in Zubat-infested caves chasing a slightly darker than usual Muk then she was going to decline before she got volunteered.
Dakarai's response is, at first, a light-hearted “Oh?”, as if he were trying to defuse an uncomfortable in-joke, before sobering up. “…oh?” he asks, tone now instead one of concern.
“Ravi and Reshigah,” Cecile comments solemnly in his direction, nodding.
The first two syllables prompt, with only minor delay, the mildest cringe in Rhaptor's exterior, as if Cecile was, none too kindly, pulling out one of his teeth. “That's unfortunate,” he says, quietly, but follows up with a smile. It doesn't quite manage to be enthusiastic - there's a tinge of sadness to his expression.
“Any particular reason?” Cecile finds herself asking, arching a brow lightly.
“…acquaintances of acquaintances,” Dakarai says, tone apologetic, as if that made him personally responsible for whatever it was that required his attention.
Those don't sound like any sort of pokémon she's familiar with, so they're probably people. Or the names of individual pokémon, she supposes, but unless they're particularly notorious and pitiful wild pokémon that doesn't much up with the rest of the reactions.
“Would you like me to leave? This seems private,” Elena offers. If they're talking in some sort of code it's probably private gym leader stuff that she isn't supposed to know about.
“No, no, that's fine,” Cecile comments, the solemn air peeling away in favour of something lighter once more. “They're just people who've started the gym circuit, so Dakarai's going to follow them around a bit. Nothing sinister,” she assures, with such a casual tone that it's difficult to interpret it as anything dodgy. “He just gets to play private detective.”
Nonetheless, Dakarai glances at Elena, smiling a little apologetically. He hasn't, after all, revealed even the slightest bit about that part of his travels yet. It could be held against him.
Huh. Okay, it makes sense in a particularly cunning way that the gym leaders would share information on challengers before they arrived. Keep an eye on them, predict which gym they were aiming at next to make sure the gym leader was prepared, make sure everyone had a rough idea of what pokemon and tactics were being used. Make the trainers work hard for success.
“Scouting people out and making sure everyone is ready and prepared for them? Wow. I'm impressed,” she murmurs in an admiring tone.
The reaction to Elena's assumption is Cecile and Dakarai exchanging glances for a moment, hint of amusement passing between them - though whether it's because she's using euphemisms they wouldn't, or because of the flattery, or because she's on a wrong track entirely, is hard to glean. It doesn't last long. Talked into something of a corner, Dakarai comments: “Travelling can be rather taxing, but if that doesn't discourage you, I have no objection to letting you tag along.” Iris flutters his wings and tugs limbs at Dakarai's hair, soundless in his objection, prompting a 'gah' from his 'trainer'.
“I know most of the berry groves in north-west Sehto, I'm used to rough travelling,” Elena comments dryly. “But while I appreicate the offer I'm not making things awkward by getting in the way of your secret gym business.” She takes a moment to giggle at Rhaptor's new Venomoth-groomed hair style. “But thanks for the offer.”
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