Helix Tower was a landmark regardless of one's position amongst the sprawl of Nightclaw in the landscape, reaching into the sky like a delicate ribbon frozen mid-dance. Even standing at its base, with most of the busy city behind them, none of its grace and glory disappeared - instead, the imposing presence it had up close simply wove itself into the pre-existing air, demanding respect… or a sense that whoever had created this modern art lighthouse was both a show-off and utterly insane.
Dakarai craned his neck back, glancing up along the parts of the building visible from his current position, finishing the last remnants of a crunchy veggie burrito he'd picked up on the way with the sorry excuse for small change he had on him, now down to precisely two cents. He's not looking impressed as much as simply acknowledging that Helix Tower was by far the most interesting static thing to look at, even if he'd seen it several times over by now. He'd already told Elena that it housed the Nightclaw gym - and played tourist guide to as much of the city on their way here as he could stomach, telling her about this old Kanto quasi-'embassy' here, and this historic fire fighting station and its place in history with the great fire from a few decades ago there, and any other piece of trivia he could pull out of his reluctant synapses that seemed interesting enough to dispel silence with.
“I'm kind of surprised my parents didn't settle here,” Elena commented as she licked powdered sugar from her fingers. “I mean I'm happy where I grew up, but this seems a little more… them?” From what little she'd glimpsed so far she was in fact very happy to have been raised in Njoty but it hardly seemed tactful to say that aloud while standing in Nightclaw.
Absently she wondered just what it was about the city that had her mentally comparing it to a bristly pokémon and what that said about her own psyche. The Helix Tower was very pretty though and the view was enough to make up for the rest, for now at least.
“It's very different from the rest of Sehto,” Dakarai comments with a light shrug, tone one of explanation, as if he had personal insight into what might have made her parents decide against settling here, of all places. “But then, I suppose that's the normal urban-rural divide you'd observe in other places, too. Though I felt an old friend of mine once described it quite succinctly: Nightclaw is too much Sehto for Sehto to handle.” And then the last of the burrito is gone and he's glancing across at her with a smile. “Shall I introduce you to Miss Charna?” There's a slight hint of hidden exasperation in the enquiry, though quite plainly not directed at Elena.
“Right. Yes, okay.” Elena closed her eyes and took a steadying breath in preparation to move. It didn't seem to help. “Okay, this is silly, I'm nervous and I don't know why.” One eyelid slowly cracked open to look over at Rhaptor. “Are you sure this isn't going to be bothering her? I mean, a pokémon battle takes longer but they're rare so surely she's got better things to do than meet a girl rebelling against her parents.”
Declaring she was going to do nice things for gym leaders was one thing. Actually taking time out of their presumably busy days for such a trivial purpose as offering rocky road was rather more intimidating.
“Honestly? I'm sure my presence will bother her, I don't get along with her,” Dakarai reveals, matter-of-factly. “But there'll be zero spill-over to you, she's nice to everyone that isn't me,” he assures, similarly without any emotional inflection that might instil doubt, tipping one shoulder into a light shrug. “And if I know her any, she'll be delighted to have someone outside her social circle come to her for something that doesn't relate the gym's formal purposes.” A pause. “Seriously,” he adds, with the gravity of truth.
That was supposed to be comforting, but Elena wasn't sure being nice to everyone except the only familiar face quite counted as such. Still, Rhaptor seemed sure, and whatever issues they had sounded old and long running. Personality clash? Bad breakup? Someone inadvertently insulted the other's family, friends or pokémon? There were lots of potentially valid reasons.
Pushing herself away from the wall she was leaning on Elena shook herself briskly and swung her pack back onto her shoulder. “Well, you know her better. Let's go.”
In some subconscious gesture, he's wiping his hands on his trousers, losing the last traces of flour against them, then in much the same motion patting most of it off the fabric. His spine straightens and he shoots another glance up at the building, then lets his gaze drift down and steps through the open gates into the interior.
The bottom of Helix Tower does not only consist of the pokégym, but Dakarai is giving neither escalator, stray artwork or what looks like a club or disco judging from the flashy design of its entrance any attention, simply heading toward what looks like a particularly clinical vertical cut into the faux ivory of the tower's interior walls, a slash dragging its obsidian contents across their retinas. It's not a door or gate. It's simply a narrow passage further into the building, like an empty frame.
Dakarai pauses just before it, peering at precisely that frame, only to wave his hand undramatically at what looks like a laser that'd be broken by anyone happening to pass through. Was he ringing the doorbell? That made sense. And he's waiting outside, it seems, rather than walking into that inky darkness, his posture excessively proper as he settles into a stand.
This was… an unusual arrangement, Elena decided. Shouldn't there be a sign, or a reception desk, or a map on the wall, or a door, or something? Because if she was trying to find the gym she'd probably have searched the rest of the building before trying this.
“I'm getting the feeling the only out of town visitors Miss Charna commonly gets are drunk and lost,” she comments as she looks around the tower base. Unexpected snatches of light or colour kept catching her eye and she wondered what else lay above.
That comment seems to amuse Dakarai, judging from his briefly crinkled facial expression, though he goes back to a formal air a short while later, clearly deeming formality on his side the best way to deal with whatever animosities existed between him and Naomi Charna.
When she does appear, it's as a vague hint of motion in the darkness - and almost immediately thereafter, she's standing in that vertical slit, glaring venomous daggers at Elena's companion for the instant it takes her to realise he's not alone. Before a greeting is even spoken, she's glancing at Elena with… is that concern? Alarm? Pity? Whatever it is, it's not a negative emotion. She seems caught for a moment, perhaps unsure whether to greet the stranger and ignore Rhaptor entirely - then snaps her gaze back around to him, resurfaced glare and all, and with a slight foreign accent that's hard to place but sounds vaguely northern European mainland on superficial inspection, remarks: “You are still not welcome here, Dakarai. What are you doing to this lady?”
“Accompanying her,” Rhaptor remarks, the slightest twitch of his jaw suggesting that the name she's called him is unwelcome. It leaves one to wonder whether it might be a swearword in her native language, whatever that may be. “She'd like to meet the gym leaders, I thought I'd give her a tour,” he summarises, wholly inadequately, but clearly deliberately so. “I'll wait outside,” he adds, not even bothering to intone it as a suggestion, simply offering it as a statement of fact.
Naomi's narrowed eyes linger on him for a moment longer, then drift to Elena. “I am very sorry,” she says, gesturing lightly with her left hand for her to follow and step into the gym, evidently welcoming her in. “I hope he has been treating you with respect?” she asks, smiling with a certain uncertainty in her manner. She's… honestly concerned for Elena? It seems like such a strange juxtaposition, disliking Rhaptor so openly, but without an inkling of negativity toward his travel companions.
On the one hand, her living safety blanket had just been chased off. On the other, based on venom in their brief interaction keeping Rhaptor and Naomi in the same room was asking for trouble. Potentially a lot of trouble. Visions of fleeing town chased by pokémon darted across her mind.
Instead Elena followed the gym leader inside. “I met him - well, his Venomoth Iris, but he followed - near Njoty, and then he helped me when I was lost in the Vereheq Ruins. He's been nothing but respectful to me,” she answers carefully. An odd hatred of Rhaptor and yet concern for her… the jilted lover theory was looking most likely.
The darkness eclipses their views quickly, but Naomi's placed fingertips against Elena's right shoulder, serving as a guide through the inky shadows. A moment later, a dim light spawns roughly at height of her chest, for a moment of illusion appearing like she'd created it magically and was holding it in one hand - but it's a spherical, softly luminescent bulb atop a short pillar or stand. Naomi places both of her hands against it, lightly, fingers silhouettes against the light but barely obscuring it, and glances at Elena with maintained concern. “I am relieved,” she says, with an unnerving sincerity. “Though nonetheless… I would recommend a different travel companion. I have never had reason to trust Dakarai and I am frankly concerned for your well-being.” A pause, glancing down to the pokéballs at her belt. “Though you have the protection of your pokémon, I assume,” she adds, a bit more warmly, smiling lightly.
The ambience of the gym was disturbing. The topic of conversation didn't help. There were no footsteps or rustling or other sounds around her but she wouldn't have been surprised if a pokémon or four lunged around of the darkness. Startled, yes. Alarmed, definitely. But not surprised.
Fingers brush lightly across her belt. “I spend much of my time with an overprotective Arcanine and a Sailrage with an oral fixation. I think that if Rhaptor harmed me while either were around he would regret it,” Elena answered with the ghost of a smile. That was probably a bad reaction. Not only did it sound arrogant and overconfident but pokémon threatening someone else's life was supposed to be a Bad Thing. Even if it was comforting. And that it was comforting was twisted.
“Is there a reason I should distrust Rhaptor? Cecile Madhukar seemed to think I'd be safer travelling with him than on my own,” Elena inquired. Granted, she'd probably take any answer with a pinch of salt, but it couldn't hurt to ask.
“Good,” Naomi comments as Elena refers to her pokémon, nodding once in emphasis and not losing her smile. It's a bit alarming, but it shows she's serious about her assessment of Rhaptor - if she has no qualms picturing him on the receiving end of getting chewed on by pokémon, she must think it potentially necessary.
As she asks her question, the gym leader seems briefly contemplative, albeit not in the least taken aback. “He has done things I cannot forgive him for,” she explains, softly but sincerely. “I cannot in good conscience disclose the full extent of his actions, but I can say this with certainty: He once travelled the gym circuit and was exceptionally cruel to his pokémon. He no longer does that… but that is because he has been forbidden to - and he has given me no cause to believe there is anything else holding him back.
“Dakarai N'Sehla has no care in his heart. He does not understand any other creature's pain, just his own. And while I am not at liberty to disclose details that fall outside of my jurisdiction, you should at least be aware he does live on a pardon he should never have gotten.” There's no anger in her voice - whether true or not, she seems entirely convinced or its veracity and her duty to speak it as a fair warning to Elena. This hardly seems to be a case of someone wanting to simply tarnish his name. Gym leader clash of ethics?
Not a jilted lover after all. The rest doesn't make sense. Forbidden? Pardon? Cruel to his pokémon? He'd only ever been attentive to Iris that she'd seen, there certainly had been no sign of abuse there. Not to mention consistent references to Dakarai N'Sehla instead of Rhaptor.
If it weren't so cliché she'd wonder if Naomi was confusing a set of twin brothers. Which… actually, that would explain everything, particularly if Rhaptor had given up trying to convince Naomi of them being two individuals. It was just so outrageous that it couldn't be true. If she was going to entertain such theories she may as well flick a pokéball at him while he was sleeping to check he wasn't a Ditto.
“I don't know what to say. He and Iris seem to truly care for each other, but you've known him longer than I have…” Elena says at last. She could appreciate that it was her interests being looked out for, she was grateful for the thought, but what Naomi was saying and what she'd witnessed were at odds with each other. The obvious conclusion was that the other was mistaken. But those accusations were far, far bigger than a simple misunderstanding and she couldn't see a gym leader of all people lying to slander another.
If only humans could learn battle moves, too. Elena really wished she could TELEPORT home and go ask Cecile for a second opinion.
The reaction to her observation is a simple nod, the gym leader's demeanour suggesting, perhaps, a certain sadness - that it's difficult to resolve this particular situation with words alone, perhaps. But they'd already established Elena could take care of herself and Naomi was wholly satisfied that with the warning spoken, she was adequately prepared. She was talking to an adult, after all, someone who could make her own decisions in life and was entitled to bearing the consequences of those, good or bad. “But you are not here for my assessment of your travel companions,” Naomi concludes the topic, not quite managing to intone the dismissal of it with the humour the words suggest it was intended to be spoken with, owing to the gravity of her accusations. “What may I help you with?”
A topic change on a silver platter. That was so wonderful she could kiss something. She'd come back to what later.
“I'm really not sure how to do this without it seeming creepy or awkward so, um… well, this is for you,” Elena stammered as she pulled out a brown paper bag and uncertainly offered it to Naomi. “It's rocky road made with nuts and dried berries. I'm trying to do nice things for all the gym leaders but I wasn't sure what you liked so now I'm really hoping you're not allergic to nuts.” Elena tried to paste a smile on her face but was scared this madcap idea was about to blow up in her face.
Naomi stares at the offering, clearly a little lost and - perhaps especially in light of their conversation a moment ago - unsure how to react. Then her shoulders lose their tension rather abruptly and she tips her head in appreciation. “Thank you,” she says, sincerely, if a bit awkwardly intoned, taking it. “I am not sure I should be accepting a gift from someone that I just probably upset, though,” she adds, holding the bag to her chest and glancing at Elena with a different sort of concern. “Certainly not without returning the favour. Are you really travelling the whole island? If so, I do have a pair of sturdy boots I could give you that I no longer need - assuming they fit your feet.” Revenge awkward offer, go - but the smile on her face seems genuine, at least. Not a total loss?
Things weren't exploding. Yet. The air was still thick with awkward tension so something could still ignite it. “I harvest and sell wild berries from the wilderness around Njoty,” Elena manages, wiggling one boot clad foot while casting about for something that would work better as an exchange. “Um. Would it be rude to ask you for advice about the other gym leaders? Cecile is the only one I've met since I didn't have a chance to stop in Nahla so I don't know anyone's preferences. But not if you think that's rude or anything like that,” she adds hastily.
“Not rude in the least,” Naomi assures, good-naturedly. “Though I do not know them well enough to comment on their dietary habits, unfortunately.” Her gaze drifts down to the dimly glowing orb and her free hand plays across it idly, distantly reminiscent of a friendly scritch of a pokémon, though it very clearly isn't. “Do you have a place to spend the night?” That, however, was a considerably more regular implied offer for a gym leader to be making.
Elena barely avoids blurting 'wait, I qualify for that?' Did she want to though? If she was alone she'd have accepted the offer in a heartbeat, but it was beyond obvious that Rhaptor wasn't welcome and changing plans at the last minute seemed rude. It would make Naomi feel better to have her separated and she did appreciate the concern but neither could she shake the nagging feeling that if she accepted Rhaptor would be mysteriously 'removed' from the city and then finding him again made a pest.
“Yes. I'd made plans because, well, I didn't come here to battle for a badge and so I thought you may have been going to kick me out for wasting your time,” Elena offers sheepishly. It's technically lying by omission but hopefully the use of a singular pronoun would ease the other's concern. “And it would be justified, the idea of basically doing the gym circuit without actually competing is probably insane,” she hastily adds.
Naomi seems bemused by the notion. “Hardly,” she remarks. “I would consider the classic way of doing it less sane,” she assures in light-hearted tone. Even without someone knowing what the gym circuit lead up to, even with her own past as a circuiter, she could effortlessly subscribe to that notion - it seemed ridiculous in hindsight, after all. “But you should know this: It is very difficult to waste a gym leader's time. It is, after all, our purpose to be there for people, and if you intend to gift everyone on the circuit, then you have no rejection to fear.” Her smile threatens to become a grin, but stops just shy of it.