With the sun glittering off the ocean, kneading warmth into the landscape and Batsen's bones, there was a certain urge to lie down and catch up on the sleep that Terry had denied to them. A little nap on the warm stone wouldn't do any harm, certainly - if he slept until nighttime came, the chill of dusk would wake him long before the temperature became a genuine problem, after all, and there wasn't really anything of worth to steal from him that wouldn't fight its new owner tooth and nail.
Devi was currently out of sight, distracted by shinies in a fleamarket they'd passed through. That he was down at the shore was something they'd negotiated in brief, more in gestures and shapeless tones on Devi's part than by classic communication, but she'd also revealed she wasn't actually going to buy any of the useless trinkets - she just wanted to look at them.
The shore of Nightclaw has a capricious composition, bands of sand alternating with near-black, jagged rocks, some of which are large enough and with erratically placed, smooth and large enough surfaces to sit on comfortably. They're soaking up the warmth quite easily, of course, and between the lazy drone of the surf and the twofold temperature, a short slumber seems like a fantastic choice, indeed.
As such, he's draped on a slightly slanted plane, spine on the warm stone, face cast up at the sky, one arm half held, half draped over his eyes to block out the sun, the other woven half-heartedly into the straps of his rucksack beside him, when the sound of a conversation creeps out of the background noise. None of it is intelligible yet, but it stands out in the monotony of everything else, effortlessly registering as more interesting than the occasional sound of a car further inland.
Ahh, the ocean. The continuous white noise of the waves, the smell of sea salt, the warmth of the sun on his skin. The shoreline on this side of the island is quite different from what he's used to when he visits the beach - it's certainly much rockier than the sandy beaches around Kethi. He's pretty sure he likes this better, though whether that's due to genuine taste or simply it being a new experience is unclear. It's certainly much nicer for taking a nap without getting sand in one's clothes, though.
It's hard to guess at how much time he's spent basking on that rock when he notices the sounds of voices at the edge of his perception. He can't make out any individual words yet, but after a few moments it's starting to sound like they're getting closer. Still only halfway-conscious, Batsen exhales a soft, pleased sound, head rolling lazily to the side the voices are coming from, eyes still closed.
Slowly, enough of the syllables and tone filter through to make the subject of conversation register as 'something mundane'. But the more the voices crystallise, the more the nagging sense of familiarity comes with them - subtle, but enough to induce a sense of déjà vu; or déjà entendu, as it were.
A thread of confusion slowly knots its way into Batsen's slowly-waking consciousness. He's pretty sure that's someone he knows, but he can't quite place it, certainly not in his half-dozing state. It's a man's voice, so it can't be Devi, and it can't be Dejan because… reasons. A light cringe touches his features, and he's quick to bury that train of thought before he grows overly morose. That mental effort is apparently enough to bridge the gap between sleep and waking, and his eyelids slowly pry themselves open, squinting in the sunlight despite the shade from his hand.
Half-hidden by the landscape, it seems two people are having the most casual climb - only occasionally reaching out an arm to steady themselves as they walk amongst the rocks, following depressions and rises in the landscape most aligning to a semblance of a path. The lady is wholly unfamiliar; her copper-skinned companion, however, rings a visual bell. Still, it takes Batsen's mind a long moment to place it: It's that weird chap that bothered them about Dejan's belongings back in Togi. …it would seem he's either a long way from home, or was a long way from home back when he turned up to say hello.
It takes a long moment for the visual cues to resolve into memory, but then it clicks into place. Isn't he the same person who visited Devi's place last week asking about something belonging to Dejan? What was his name again? R-something? It was an unusual-sounding name, he remembers that… Ramses? No, that's not it. It sounded like an animal name or something, but the only thing coming to mind is 'Rattata' and that's definitely not it.
Batsen wracks his brains for a little longer, then utters a note of minor exasperation. He stretches his arms out over his head, yawns, and slowly pushes himself up into a sit, propped up by his elbows on the warm stone, and lets his gaze silently follow the pair.
Whether it's motion or a sixth sense alerting the partial stranger to Batsen, his gaze finds Batsen and lingers. His motions slow. Apparently, recognition is mutual - though by the looks of that facial expression, equally searching. The lady with him trails off from what she was commenting, then glances at her companion quizzically for a moment, before following his gaze. By some social automation, her right arm rises and waves casually, the smile on her face polite, but certainly laced with the undercurrent of 'I have no idea who this is, but you two apparently know each other'.
And with that, there's no way the situation isn't destined to awkwardness. Staring at strangers out of partial recognition has never been very polite, but simply looking away and passing by is now impossible. There's hesitance in Rhaptor's demeanour - then he's shrugged both shoulders half as if to make a gesture of resignation, half to tip himself into motion, and with a partly apologetic posture approaches Batsen.
And then, the face connects to a name via several levels of indirection: Reshigah. He hadn't introduced himself back in Togi, but Dakarai remembered each syllable Cecile had given him, and the chances that Devi's then-companion wasn't also her now-companion, this far away from Togi, were vanishingly slim. “Small world,” he comments, hiding his unease with the effortlessness of experience, but no less perturbed. His heart seems a lot more eager to do its job all of a sudden. A circuiter. This is where it gets serious.
Oh, and he's apparently gotten the man's attention, and now the girl with him is waving at him and oh god they're coming over towards him and he still doesn't remember his name aaaaah panic panic panic. “Yeah, I… guess it is,” he replies, hint of tension crawling into his posture at the sudden social awkwardness of the situation. “Oh, sorry, I don't think we got properly introduced last time.” There, maybe he can subtly get him to remind him what his name is. He leans forward, brushing the palm of his right hand against his jacket to rid it of a few pebbles pressed against his skin, and holds it out to shake. “The name's Batsen,” he says, smiling amicably. “Batsen Reshigah.”
The gesture is returned in kind, hand shaken lightly and just shy of minimally. “Rhaptor N'Sehla,” he introduces himself. “This is Tanja,” he introduces his companion before she has much of a chance to do so herself. “Are you travelling, or do you have relatives here?” he asks, tone conversational, smile on his face. What are you doing, what are you doing, what are you doing… - the answer is apparently 'smalltalk'. Just great. That was totally his speciality. He wasn't setting himself up for even more awkwardness at all.
Rhaptor! Right, that was it, now he remembers. “A pleasure to meet you,” he replies. “…again, I guess,” he adds in hasty afterthought. 'N'Sehla,' something in the back of his mind comments. 'That name sounds familiar.' He's sure he's heard it in some context other than this man, but it's taking a while to fit into place and there's a conversation going on he needs to pay attention to.
“Just travelling,” Batsen answers with a smile and a light shrug. “I've never been to Nightclaw before, it seems like a pretty exciting place; definitely looking forward to checking out the sights.” And he could use a break from pokémon battling, after two tough fights in a short timespan. There's a pause, just long enough to be awkward, before he asks: “What about you? Do you live around here, or are you visiting?”
Rhaptor silently thumbs to Tanja, prompting a look of mild confusion from her, as if she wasn't entirely sure which subtext, precisely, was supposed to be contained in that gesture. She doesn't say anything, though, evidently content that the reaction is enough to dispel any potential impression of romantic involvement. Fortunately, he helps her along: “Tanja's an acquaintance of mine.” Not lying. Just not answering the question. Really, he should just claim to be circuiting, but… it's not a lie he can stomach. Lies in general are tricky; but that one isn't an option. “And… with apologies for generic advice, but I don't recommend travelling alone.” Apparently, he's not done with racking up irony points yet.
Batsen nods at Rhaptor's answer. So he's here visiting a friend, or at least an acquaintance. And presumably he lives closer to Togi if he knew Dejan. The 'generic advice' prompts a wire of tension to worm its way into his shoulder, suddenly skeptical as to whether he'd intended it as genuine advice or some sort of heavily-veiled threat. “I'm not,” he replies coolly, hands finding their way into his jacket pockets and tapping on the pokéballs to reassure himself they were still there. “Devi's travelling with me, and we're quite prepared to deal with anything that might happen.”
That seems to brighten Rhaptor's expression slightly. “That's a relief,” he comments. “The way from here down to Pyu Ivvi and Ehqaj or back is especially tricky; I think it's because it's such a long stretch and Pyu Ivvi is tiny,” he muses. It's at this point that Tanja gives him a light thump in the shoulder. For a moment, he looks perplexed, shifting his gaze across to her… then, with her point utterly lost to him, he lets his gaze meander back to Batsen. “Just… you know, gone there, been in that situation, had my wallet stolen,” he exhales with a tinge of exasperation. “Not that I learn my lesson, or anything, I'm not actually any good at listening to my own advice,” he smiles.
His response seems to put Batsen back at ease, though his hands stay in his pockets just in case. Rhaptor definitely seems like a bit of an oddball, but so far he's being a relatively harmless oddball - exactly the kind that Batsen knows how to handle. “Sorry to hear that,” he replies. “We'll keep that in mind for when we go down that way, thanks.”
In the back of his mind, the thought he'd been turning over finally makes a connection. Tendai N'Sehla - that's where he'd heard the last name before. “Oh, hey… so, this is a slightly random question, but I was just wondering… - do you by any chance have any relatives in Togi?”
… 'relatives'? Instinct is to say no, for a myriad of reasons. Not only has he long since stopped talking to anyone else bearing the name N'Sehla, but he's hardly got anything in common with that past self of his that had known any name but his own as a familial connection. Unfortunately, that emotional assessment has no rational basis. “I was born there,” he confirms. It's nothing he has to hide - Tendai would hardly be missing him any more than he had when he'd lived in Njoty… and that had never been even as much as a scarcely noticeable amount. “But I stopped staying in touch a long time ago,” he adds, shrugging one shoulder lightly. The thought of turning up on Tendai's doorstep and telling him about his life so far is a thought that, at least in his imagination, simply leads to rage, frustration and beatings. Ironically not for his misdeeds - but the sheer fact he's taking orders from someone. He can't imagine that finding approval.
✘ IN PROGRESS