Filling the role of the 'rival' in Sehto (just as Gary did in the Kanto of the actual games), Dakarai N'Sehla introduced himself as Rhaptor N'Sehla to anyone that bothered to ask, and his true name was not properly revealed until the very end. His end.
Rather than paraphrase Dakarai's past, I'd like to share the two painful last sessions, in which both all was revealed and his tragic death came to be.
Note: all paragraphs pertaining to Raiko were written by Nemesis Quill and are shared with permission.
Raiko's being led out of the dining room, banter to and fro involving Mew and her habits, when a surprisingly grim looking, purple, human-sized pokémon approaches 'Mictian', its eyes narrowed. Its silence turns out to be verbal only, as Mictian trails off from his remarks, only to utter: "Oh, really. Where's he, then?" and shooting a thoroughly intrigued glance toward the intimidating - but obviously quite familiar to him - pokémon.
Raiko chuckles: "She's such a sweetie..." before he flinches slightly, then remains silent, not saying anything, rubbing at his nose, before he flicks a look to Mictian, looking curious. "I..." he trails off into silence, awed as he eyes the pokémon before them both.
Silence persists for a moment, before the strange pokémon shifts its glance to Raiko, its eyes narrowing further, uttering something of a hiss, before vanishing from sight much like the Mew had, earlier, blinking out of existence with no noticable transition other than the softest pop.
'Mictian', as though he's forgotten Raiko, sighs audibly before turning to stalk down a corridor. But, no, he's not forgotten - the gesture is fleeting, brief, but it's there, a hint of a beckon for Raiko to follow him.
Raiko flinches away at the gaze, then bounds silently after Mictian, remaining quiet, although his hands flex slightly as he runs his tongue across his lips. He looks around, though, as they walk, before he swallows hard. "That pokémon seemed to be very angry," he notes, quietly.
"That's his default emotion," he explains, quite casually, before stopping by a door, leaning slightly against it as though to listen.
Raiko blinks a bit. "I see... I... take it he assumed me to be a trainer...?" His nose wrinkles and he waits, patiently, silently now, as he pushes his hands through his hair again, gnawing at his lips slightly. His fingers flex a bit, but he doesn't say a word.
He chuckles darkly. "No, you wouldn't be standing if he had," he remarks, before hesitantly nudging the door open a slight bit, peering inside.
It's a tiled bathroom - and as the door opens, Raiko sees a familiar shape, towel wrapped around his hip, hair moist, sat on the ground in all his coppery-tanned glory, rubbing moisturising cream into nasty looking marks on his legs.
Raiko smiles. "Then I'm glad of that." He chuckles a bit, then purrs as the door is opened and he sees the occupant, before he blushes then looks worried, flicking a look to Mictian, then back to Rhaptor. "...what happened...?" he whispered, lowly, shocked at the wounds.
Rhaptor glances up, finding first the gymleader, then Raiko with his eyes, on whom he lingers with a quizzical expression. He does not, however, answer Raiko's question, merely staring idly as though demanding why he was being stared at and what the big fuss was about - while Iris pops out of its pokéball, fluttering across to the gymleader. "Veno, veno-veno," it says, its voice very soft as though in a whisper.
Raiko looks away and down at his hands, fingers flexing as a blush stains his cheeks. His shivers a bit and licks at his lips, but doesn't speak further, shifting almost uneasily.
Rhaptor looks back to at the marks on his legs, clearing his throat slightly, introspectively, as his Venomoth speaks to the gymleader. After a moment, he utters: "Would you mind?" his tone dripping with discomfort. But what's really making him uneasy - being seen half-naked? Being seen with bruises? Being seen tending to bruises? Or is it something the Venomoth is saying?
Raiko twitches, then backs out of the room, leaning against the wall, breathing deeply, his eyes closed as a twitch runs through him. He does flick a look to the Venomoth in passing, though, before flicking a second look to Rhaptor just as he leaves the room, though. He doesn't make a sound now, nor move.
'Mictian' glances across at Rhaptor, before stepping back with a frown and snapping the door shut in a single definitive gesture. He doesn't lock it - the strength of the motion is just a sign of irritation. Iris meeps quietly and settles down on his right shoulder, purple wings spread out. "Please excuse Dakarai," he remarks, as though Rhaptor's biting remark was something to apologise for, even as he begins a slow, casual saunter in some direction, expecting Raiko to tag along.
Raiko nods slightly. "It's all right," he whispers, before he grins and looks up through the lock of hair over his eyes. "That's a lovely Venomoth there." He chuckles a bit an rolls his shoulders, flicking his tongue across his lips. "I... wonder who hurt him so...?" He trails off then.
"This is Iris," the gymleader elaborates, casually. "Iris is my little helper in Dakarai's case. He watches the boy and makes sure he doesn't throw himself off a building on accident," he remarks, his humour lavishly dark. "Make no mistake about who's in charge in that duo - most people don't quite realise it, but I'm sure you're more educated... right?"
Raiko laughs then, amused, before he nods. "I understand." He smiles some, then. "Iris knows what happened?" he asks gently, eyeing the moth pokémon, awed, though, at its beauty.
"Oh, yes, quite, quite," the man remarks, idly, his voice still surprisingly cold. A moment later, they've entered one of the arenas, the light filtering in from the outside, granting the hall an alien glow. "But let's give Mr. N'Sehla some time to get dressed and come here." A few soft sounds exit from him, directed at the Venomoth, before Iris twitches briefly, then responds with: "Vee!" and flutters lazily back the way they came.
"Seat yourself," he gestures to the rows on the left and right of the arena.
Raiko nods a bit then, before he twitches at the cold tone as they enter the arena and he is spoken to. "Yes," he quietly agrees. He sits then as the Venomoth disappears back the way it had come, even as he starts gnawing at his lower lip, before he looks around the arena intently, although he doesn't say anything further.
'Mictian' follows Raiko up to one of the rows, sidling in beside him, and leaning forward to rest against the backs of the seats immediately before him - or the railing, if Raiko picked the first row. His hands loosely dangle, lower arms draped across the same, and his expression seems almost distant... but he's evidently not happy, even if far removed from furious or otherwise angry.
Raiko licks his lips and looks sideways at the man as he rests his own arms on the railing before him, before he looks away again. "Can I ask how he managed to get himself hurt?" he almost whispers, clearly worried for Rhaptor but not overly so. He eyes his fingers for a second, then looks straight at the other man, but he doesn't say anything more, taking in his looks and blushing, before he looks away.
It snaps him out of the thoughts he was having and he glances across at Raiko in sudden motion. After a moment, he inclines his head slightly and his eyes narrow a touch. "Have you two met before?" he asks, obviously trying to make sense of Raiko's persistence.
Raiko nods slightly. "Yes. I was in Roaring Hollow and he came along and saved my life. I'd fallen..." He falls silent then and looks away, not saying anything else, not really knowing what to say - so, for long moments, he is silent. "I was studying the pokémon there," he finally adds.
He regards Raiko for a moment, letting a hint of stunned silence linger on his expression, before nodding in quiet acknowledgement and shifting his attention back to the arena at large, or rather to the nirvana contained somewhere in the dim light.
Raiko remains silent, staring into the Arena without that he actually sees it, becoming lost in thought, his fingers twitching around the railing. He remains quiet, not knowing what to say, if anything, lowering his head as he swallows, his eyes half closing. Raising his head, he rubs at the back of his neck, thinking.
After a while, Rhaptor N'Sehla - or is it Dakarai? - strides into the arena, following the Venomoth, looking proud despite a lowered gaze. He's wearing a short-sleeved, plain black shirt and an equally black pair of trousers, with a dark brown, featureless belt woven into its loops, a silver buckle catching the light. He's barefoot, and approaches both of them without rising to the rows, entering the arena and stopping as close by as the railing allows, letting himself flop down into a casual kneel, before finally looking up, his expression dark. The Venomoth comes to rest just before and beside 'Mictian', uttering the softest, almost pleading: "Vee."
Raiko looks up as the man drops to a kneel, meeting his eyes, then looking away, flicking his tongue across his lips. He makes not a sound as he looks to Mictian, then back to Dakarai, nose wrinkling, before he lowers his gaze, staring at his hands, remaining silent.
"Mr. Zelenka informs me that you two have met before," 'Mictian' remarks, placing his words with a clinical accuracy. "Tell me what he knows, so that I need not repeat things."
A silent tremble ripples through Rhaptor's shape, his gaze drifting back down, his radiant, emerald eyes closing briefly. "Nothing, my lord," he says, simply, his voice surprisingly soft.
"Surely you've introduced yourself," 'Mictian' counters, casually, but it's like a soft stab - and indeed, it elicits another twitch.
"Only as Rhaptor N'Sehla, my lord." The tension between the two seems unreal, especially given the obvious mutual like.
Raiko nods slightly. "I don't know anything else," he whispers. "Just his name," he confirms. He lowers his head then, falling silent, not saying another word, finding himself unable to look at either of them, but not through fear or anything, just out of sheer respect.
'Mictian' grimaces slightly, though not out of honest disapproval of anything. "Recite your ID for the man, will you? He was looking for you, in more ways than one, don't you think you owe him as much?"
Rhaptor frowns, disagreeing with 'owing' him anything, but knowing that this man doesn't mean it quite so literally. "I am Dakarai N'Sehla," he says, his voice even, but betraying the strain he's putting into it. "I was born in Togi on the sixteenth of April, nineteen-seventy-four, my father is-"
'Mictian' interrupts him. "Enough." He pauses to see if it was registered, before nodding approvingly and adding: "That suffices." He exhales audibly, before glancing across at Raiko expectantly - maybe he's waiting for questions.
Raiko blinks, looking gobsmacked, his mouth opening and closing several times, before he closes it again, having a myriad of things to ask, but just not having the words to express them. He gives his head a shake, still stunned, before he tilts his head, smiling faintly without that he says anything, hair toppling over his forehead.
Just as content with Raiko's silence as he would have been with a question, he nods encouragingly, before turning his attention back to the kneeling man. "Tell him why you call yourself 'Rhaptor', Dakarai," he remarks, softly, gesturing dismissively with his left hand.
Dakarai glances up to look at Raiko, then at 'Mictian' with large eyes, before turning his face to Raiko and asking both of them, though mainly Raiko himself: "How much... do you know about the workings up here?"
Raiko twitches and swallows hard, rubbing both hands over his face, before he straightens, flexing his fingers. In his smooth and soft voice he replies: "I do not know very much apart from that pokémon trainers suffer up here and go missing... I... don't know anything else." He falls silent for long seconds, eyeing the kneeling man, a soft smile making the corners of his mouth twitch upwards.
Another twitch runs through his shape, and his eyes close as he nods to himself, though the only sound he makes for a long moment is to breathe quietly. After a moment, he exhales audibly, and states: "After my... trial... I subscribed myself to the ideals of this place - my chosen name is an homage to the Sehto legendaries, who reside here and... judge... those who come this far." His voice is softer than Raiko has ever heard him speak outside Taqnateh. He seems so transformed here - like a wholey different person.
Raiko flinches then, a soft gasp escaping his mouth as he puts it all together in his head in a matter of seconds. "I..." he starts to say, before he trails off, shuddering. Unable to say anything, he stares down at his hands, swallowing hard.
In a fluid motion, the gymleader rises to a stand, before grabbing the railing with both hands and clambering over it with surprising grace, before coming to stand beside Dakarai's kneeling shape. He lowers his left hand and pushes the fingers through Dakarai's hair, before curling them and grabbing a hold of his head that way, pulling it back a little to expose his neck. "I don't think I asked for the short version," he remarks, icily, keeping his grip on the kneeling man's hair.
Dakarai swallows visibly, before wincing: "M'lord?" obviously not entirely sure where to start and end with this story he's supposed to divulge.
Raiko blinks, then gasps, a soft purr sliding from his throat, which makes him blush. He doesn't say anything, though, watching intently, even as a shudder rips its way through him and he shifts, pulling his jumper down a little.
"Start at the beginning," 'Mictian' offers, pronouncing each syllable meticulously precisely.
Dakarai gasps very softly, the grip on his hair shifting, keeping his own hands down. "I did the gym circuit in-"
"The beginning," 'Mictian' insists, his lips curling to a smirk.
It forces Dakarai into silence.
"Tell him," 'Mictian' insists, his fingers squeezing against Dakarai's scalp.
"...I..." Dakarai begins, a strange tear travelling through his tone, the break having its own jitter. He gasps again, softly. "M'lord, why?"
The gymleader tsks once, sighing exasperatedly. "You broke your vow - and I'm letting you off lightly. Tell him."
Raiko flinches, his knuckles whitening as he grips the railing, but he doesn't say anything, although he wants to do so, a soft whimper slipping from him and when he hears it, he lowers his head, still clearly listening, though. Swallowing hard again, he meets Dakarai's eyes, smiling faintly.
Dakarai closes his eyes, pain lining his shape, even if it is purely psychological. He allows himself the luxury of silent breathing for long moments, but the gymleader's patience seems unshatterable. Swallowing consciously once more, he begins. "I... since Togi doesn't have its own high school, I spent much time in Njoty, as... an outsider... in all senses of the word," he begins, trying desperately to keep his voice level and not skip out of facts in the process. "I wanted..." he trails off at this point, unable to continue for long moments. "...a little bit of respect," he finally whispers.
Raiko listens, then sighs softly, looking away and at his hands, before he looks back up at Dakarai, licking at his lips. He shivers but doesn't make a sound, waiting for the other man to go on, gnawing at his lip almost painfully.
Dakarai takes a deep breath, finally finding the inner courage to continue speaking, regardless of how painful it is for him. "Early in twothousand-and-five, I decided I would try to... I would try to show them my worth by completing the gym circuit. I... prepared..." - He twitches abruptly. - "...myself by reading many books on the subject and informing myself about various... related technologies. On the fourteenth of May, I..." Again, his words catch in his throat - and now he whimpers in protest, though to no avail.
Raiko shivers then, wrapping his arms around himself, but he keeps listening, even as he winces. He doesn't look away from Dakarai then, his gaze penetrating without being nasty, before he looks away. He swallows then and croaks: "Go on," he encourages. "Please." He falls silent again, taking in all the information.
His eyes open slowly, revealing that the swirl of green has slowed and dimmed, making way for a strange emptiness. His voice continues, flimsily: "On the fourteenth of May, twothousand-and-five, I gathered several utensils together to begin working on a project I thought would help me attain my goal swiftly and efficiently. I completed it on the... twenty-ninth of September, twothousand-and-five. The result of my efforts was... a weapon... which... unfortunately... is still in use today."
Raiko gasps softly, but doesn't say anything. He's horrified even though he understands - or is at least trying to understand - the other man. He swallows then, flicking a look to Mictian, then away again. He wants to say something, anything, he just can't muster the energy to do so, shock draining him.
"On October the thir-"
"Aren't you forgetting something?" 'Mictian' interrupts Dakarai's roll, his grip twitching against his scalp.
"...m'lord?" Dakarai asks, his voice sounding utterly drained.
"Shouldn't you be a little bit more specific?"
Dakarai winces, his shoulders sagging a little. "...the device... - weapon... was - is - a whip," he manages to say, with surprisingly little effort, shame tingling across the entirety of his body. He shifts his head slightly in 'Mictian's grip, before taking an audible breath and continuing: "On the third of October, I set out to begin, and spend approximately a month and a week capturing and strengthening pokémon around Mount Black."
"On the eighth of November, in the late evening, I returned to Njoty and battled for and won the Path badge. On the ninth of November, I reached Nahla, and battled for and won the Dust badge. On the tenth of November, I reached Nightclaw and battled for and won the Glin-"
"You can summarise," 'Mictian' sneers abruptly, interrupting Dakarai again.
"...m'lord?" Dakarai asks, his voice trembling.
"I assure you," the gymleader remarks, icily. "It won't be mistaken for a brag." His fingers flex through Dakarai's hair almost soothingly for a moment.
Dakarai swallows once more, before continuing: "...I progressed one gym a day and reached Taqnateh on the sixteenth of November, twothousand-and-five. I battled, and..." he trails off again, before shaking his head despite the grip on it. "M'lord, please?"
Raiko shivers. "What does the whip do, 'xactly?" he asks, voice shaking. He has a rough idea, but just isn't sure. He doesn't look away from him then, blinking slowly. He pushes his right hand through his hair, swallowing again.
'Mictian' pats Dakarai on his right shoulder, before regarding Raiko and telling him, simply: "It's a little wonder of technology that bundles the energies of pokémon types into its five strands, selectably." Then he chuckles, before pulling Dakarai's head to the side and tracing his fingertips, one each, down the marks left by Marcus' attack. "It hurts. A lot," he says, simply, his voice thick with venom.
Raiko shudders. "That's brutal." His voice cracks and he trails off into silence, his shape still trembling. He licks at his lips, silent for several seconds. "At least you regret having made it and are sorry..." he pauses. "Having being punished for your... misdemeanours." He falls silent again and shakes his head slightly, it tilting as he looks at Dakarai.
"Now, continue," 'Mictian' snaps at Dakarai, pulling his head back slightly again, but without restricting his ability to swallow easily.
Dakarai whimpers softly, before whispering: "On the sixteenth of November, twothousand-and-five, I battled for the Astral badge in Taqnateh... and I won the battle." His eyes drift closed, his last words having been barely audible.
Raiko flinches, shivering hard, but he doesn't say anything, his face paling further. Fisting his hands in his lap, he waits for Dakarai to continue speaking, even as he shivers. He doesn't look at either of them now, disgust filling his throat, poisoning his mind.
"Nuh-uh," the gymleader snaps. "You forget, Raiko is new here, treat him like a tabula rasa, waiting for your paintbrush to fill him with knowledge," he says in a venomously yet saccarine sing-song tone.
Dakarai whimpers, trying to cringe away from him slightly - and it prompts 'Mictian' to straighten and glance across at Raiko, sighing softly, as though dealing with a defiant little child. "The gym battle up here is designed to be unbeatable, Mr. Zelenka," he tells Raiko. "Trainers wager their lives, possessions and pokémon in return for the Astral badge... perhaps they think that it is a test of courage? I have won many lives in those battles, Mr. Zelenka. Losing is not usually part of our routine up here... but Dakarai here surpassed our expectations of cruelty." He lets his fingers flex rhythmically against Dakarai's head, like a hypnotic, soothing massage. "Needless to say we couldn't let him go, not after all of that. He was quite... unique."
Raiko quivers and swallows hard, his arms tightening around himself. "Yes, he is..." he finally croaks, before he trails off. His tongue flicks across his lips and he trembles, swallowing hard, looking up to Dakarai then and meeting his eyes, before he looks away.
"Since then, Dakarai has been our little experiment," the gymleader remarks, his voice a sultry purr. "He was trying to fool us, you see," he says, with a note of heavy sadness entering his voice - it's not a mocking one. "He understood quickly... very quickly, because he had focussed so hard on his little share of pride that he was well aware of it. He never wanted to be cruel - he just never realised it. And he's a bright lad," he coos. "I think he understood it the moment we said, 'Dakarai N'Sehla, you are charged with excessive cruelty to your pokémon,' he knew, he knew what he'd done right there and then," his voice drops to a whisper. "But he's a good actor, aren't you, my boy?"
Raiko trembles, gritting his teeth, but even so a broken and soft little sound slides from him, shock keeping him pale. He doesn't say anything, though, unable to look at either of the other men, hair falling over his face, obscuring his eyes. A second tremble runs though him, but he remains silent.
"He pushed us to come up with the worst things we could possibly imagine. He was, of course, sentenced to death - so many that come up here are, after all, it's unfortunate, but wholey fair." He chuckles a little, leaning down to kiss one of Dakarai's brows, before straightening again. "After eight days... - because, while sentenced to death, that was to come last, and he had a while to go - after eight days, I caught on, by chance... and I asked him, Dakarai, you silly boy... you're hurting yourself, you're making it worse for you, so much, much worse... why do you do that?"
Dakarai is silently crying by now, tears glittering on his cheeks, soundlessly.
"My sweet boy," he remarks, softly, sighing slightly, before giving his shoulder a soothing pat. "He's a bright lad - and with that... momentary blindness of his life removed, there was nothing other than purity, do you understand, Mr. Zelenka?" he regards Raiko with a broad, genuinely happy smile, like the smile of someone who's found enlightenment, a twinkle in his eyes. "He thought he was beyond redemption. He was crafting his own punishment... by manipulating us. The little swindling bastard." He chuckles, last phrase full of fondness.
Raiko manages a weak laugh as he finally understands, before he nods ever so slightly, nose wrinkling. "I understand now." He swallows hard and looks across at Dakarai, smiling gently, before he looks away and into Mictian's face for several seconds, then down at his hands, not knowing what else to say, if anything.
The gymleader sighs theatrically, before letting go of Dakarai's head. "Well, he was sworn to secrecy, though. He fucked that one up, unfortunately." His expression darkens noticably. "And every experiment comes with its own terms and conditions. Dakarai, tell me, what did we agree on?"
Dakarai lets his gaze drift down and latch to the ground, his face a frown. "...I live on borrowed time," he says, simply, his tone neutral, even though he looks shaken and beaten to the core.
Raiko trembles, lowering his head slightly. "I..." he swallows hard but doesn't continue, blinking away the tears in his eyes, not looking at either of them, knowing that it has to be the way it is, but not liking it. He looks up at them both then, pain evident in his eyes before he looks away, lower jaw trembling. 'I won't,' he thought to himself. 'I'm not going to cry and beg, because I know it has to be done... I just wish that there was another way...' He remains silent.
'Mictian' grimaces slightly, his gaze locked on Dakarai, glancing down at him as though perhaps uncaring. If one paid attention to the eyes, one would see otherwise, though the hint is vague at best, suggesting he's far too used to this for his own good. He flexes his fingers, before tracing them across Dakarai's shoulders, hands coming to rest on the same, thumbs kneading gently against the skin for a moment, before he stops and steps back, drifting his gaze up to Raiko. "Mr. Zelenka, please keep an eye on Dakarai, will you? I will return shortly."
Raiko nods a bit. "I... will - and please... call me Raiko..." He stands then and climbs over the railing, kneeling next to Dakarai, not knowing what to say, even as he gives the other man a hug. He doesn't say anything, though, nor quite look at him.
Dakarai's shape twitches slightly as Raiko's arms slide around his shape, closing his eyes, his marred neck turned to the man without particular intention. His eyes closed, he doesn't move to hug back, or do much of anything at all. 'Mictian', meanwhile, is regarding the both of them with a slightly arched brow - of mocking? Of concern? Of surprise? - before giving a subtle, dismissive shrug and turning to leave without another word of caution, graceful stride leading him out of the arena.
Raiko smiles, but faintly, pulling his head back slightly, eyeing the marks without that he says anything. He exhales, very softly, his fingers flexing gently about the other man's shape, moving his head closer and kissing very gently, lightly over the marks, his eyes half closing. A very soft purr slips from him then, but it's part whine too and he kisses along Dakarai's jawline then up on to his face, towards his lips. He opens his eyes fully then as they are nose to nose, looking the other deep in the eyes, his gaze intense, smouldering. He looks away then, kissing gently, lightly at his lips, almost pleading for entrance. Almost.
Dakarai twitches away from the kiss, mostly reflexively, frowning. "...Rai-" he utters in protest, stopping himself, before shaking his head ever so slightly. "Raiko, please... not now?" he asks, in a whisper, as though pleading for permission to be heard.
Raiko nods then and pulls away, turning his head away. "I understand..." Tears slide down his face, but he doesn't make a further sound. "Can there be any other way?" he whispers then, his voice shaking; he still doesn't look back at the other man, aching deep inside himself.
He glances aside, his gaze settling down on the ground somewhere, but it's nowhere in particular. "...I knew what I was doing when I broke my vow, Raiko. I don't expect special treatment." His voice sounds hollow. A moment later, a pitiful note enters it as he protests, throwing his gaze at Raiko and glaring at him. "How can you care - after all you know now?"
Raiko sighs softly then nods, in acceptance with the other man's words. "I understand that." He looks away as he is glared at, shoulders shaking. "Because I... love you... even though we barely know each other." His voice cracks and he swallows the lump in his throat. "I wish I had met you sooner."
Dakarai shakes his head, slowly, quietly, before remarking: "No, Raiko, you don't love me. You love some abstraction, maybe... you don't know me, you've never seen me outside of Taqnateh... and what you're seeing now is at best a sketch." His voice seems a touch hoarse, bitter. "Don't fool yourself."
Raiko shivers a little. "You may or not be right, I'm not calling that into question. I just know I need you." He looks across at the other man then, not even noticing he's crying. "Badly." He shudders then, shaken still, and looks away.
He remains silent, still knelt, unmoving, for a long moment, unsure whether to speak to Raiko in the matter or let it rest, and finally deciding for latter. Quietly, his knees aching from the weight that's been resting on them, he shifts, sitting down on his left side, stretching his legs out to his right, before slowly letting himself sink down to lie on his side on the stone ground, his expression still so horribly empty.
Raiko looks sideways at Dakarai then, before he lowers his head and exhales, rubbing at his face with his hands, startled to find his cheeks wet, which makes him go crimson with embarassment. He shifts a bit himself, sitting beside the other man, an arm layered aross his side, near his shoulder, the fingers gently running through his hair. 'It's not fair,' he thinks to himself. 'Really it isn't.'
There seems to be no reaction to Raiko's presence. His gaze is latched on the short wall and the rows behind it, before him, not shifting despite Raiko's motions. He looks... contemplative.
Raiko swallows hard. "I... hope it will be... quick for you..." his voice shatters, the man choking on a sob, before he looks away, shaking his head and muttering incoherently, cursing himself. He exhales then, fighting for calm and he flicks a look down at the other man, sadly almost. "You should have held your silence... dear one..." he whispers, almost silently.
Dakarai's glance drifts up to Raiko for a moment, brows twitching as though to say: 'No shit, sherlock,' but without bringing it up. Instead, he sighs softly. "I'm... trying to come to terms with myself, Raiko. Please shut up." Well, that was quite... frank, even if delivered with strange amounts of earnest care.
Raiko nods, not saying anything, staring down at his feet, before he looks away, eyes darkening as he drags one hand over his face agin. He makes not a sound, gnawing at his already chewed lip. His other he pushes through his hair, then rests on the other man's shape again, fingers flexing slightly.
Long minutes pass, before Dakarai's shape stirs and he shifts, slowly pushing himself to a sit, strands of hair coming to rest across his forehead, his eyes drifting closed. A moment later, he's pulled his legs up and is resting his arms over his knees. He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out, and he merely shakes his head slightly. "Sorry," he remarks, softly, the word barely audible.
Raiko looks across at him, smiling faintly through the slowly falling tears. "It's all right. There's no need to apologise to me." He stretches a little, shifting to sit a little closer to him, before he looks down at his hands, not knowing what to say.
The gymleader's return is silent, and goes unnoticed until the sound of something metal clicks against the stony ground. "Is everything all right?" he asks - addressing Raiko, though, gaze latching onto his face, own eyes glinting with concern.
Raiko nods. "Everything's fine. Really." He pushes himself up to a kneel; before he sags, head lowered, neck bared. He doesn't say anything though and scrubs at his face with both hands.
'Mictian' slowly stretches a hand toward Raiko, in a fashion of offering to help him rise. "Come on," he suggests, tone completing the phrase with 'Give the man some space to breathe, Raiko', inclining his head toward the rows of seats nearby. His shoulders are subtly sagged, as though he were asking whether Raiko didn't perhaps want to leave and spare himself the sight.
Raiko shivers and pushes to his feet, accepting the help up, before he shivers, pondering on whether to leave or not. He looks up at Mictian then. "Will it be quick?" he asks, his voice a breathy whisper. He climbs over the rail again and seats himself, breathing deeply.
The lack of answer is probably quite disturbing in its own right, even though his gaze is attentively fixed on Raiko's face. He's not ignoring the question - not even finding the answer obvious but unspeakable, he's simply pondering the question, and coming to the conclusion that he probably doesn't know what would constitute 'quick' and what wouldn't, the lightest shrug in his right shoulder suggesting as much... but there is no response otherwise.
He crouches down beside Dakarai, the sliver of emotion from before dropping away. "Have you anything to say?" he asks him, his voice calm, soothing, but seemingly without a trace of honest care.
Raiko shudders, opening his mouth to say something, before he swallows hard, gathering himself. "I know that what goes on here must not be known else where... and I know he has to be punished... but isn't there any other way...?" his voice shakes with the strain, but he doesn't look away from the pair, his cheeks dry.
"There likely is," 'Mictian' remarks, smirking skewly up at Raiko, even as Dakarai is shaking his head silently in response to the earlier question. "But this was agreed on beforehand, Mr. Zelenka. I wouldn't be particularly credible if I changed my mind based on whims, would I?"
Raiko nods a little in understanding, then whispers: "No, you wouldn't." He swallows hard and looks away, eyes closing. "I just..." he trails off, not able to speak or look at either of them, his hair topping over his face, obscuring it.
A hand has set down on Dakarai's right shoulder, but he's still looking up at Raiko attentively, waiting for him to continue the phrase he'd begun. Noticing that he wasn't going to continue unless prompted, he does. "Go on."
Raiko shivers. "I just wish that he didn't have to die..." His voice is lower than before, sounding torn. He doesn't look up at either of them, swallowing back a sob, inwardly telling himself that he would not cry like a girl and plead for more time before he chuckles bitterly to himself, realising that it is a little to late to be thinking that.
It's Dakarai that speaks now, hissing softly as though trying to force discomfort out through his breath, muttering: "Shut up, Raiko, you're not helping."
It prompts a soft smack from 'Mictian's left hand. "Watch your manners."
Raiko shivers, but doesn't say another word, head bowed in abject apology. He still doesn't look up nor open his eyes. His tongue flicks across his lips and he trembles.
The gymleader looks up at Raiko with something of an arched brow, mildly surprised at his compliance, before dismissing it as a passing oddity, even if a distant part begins to worry if it's a good idea not to order him to leave. He seems quite attached to Dakarai - quite a bit more than he would've gambled. He layers his left arm around Dakarai's shoulders, before bringing his right up to brush hair out of his face, looking at him. He watches the closed eyes twitch a few times, before whispering, the words likely unintelligible to Raiko: "Open your eyes."
Raiko exhales, then dives at Mictian, attempting to knock him aside, tears glistening in his eyes. "Leave him alone...!" his voice cracks and splinters, falling across the arena in glistening shards. He runs his tongue across his lips and he shivers.
Knocked back by Raiko's weight and momentum, he snarls reflexively - skidding across the hard stone ground on his back, bringing up one hand to push against Raiko's shape, fingers curling to grab a hold of the fabric of his shirt. But of course it's not that simple - not with Dakarai, and, retrospectively, it was probably to be expected, but the motion still catches Raiko entirely off guard, arms sliding around him with sudden energy, Dakarai's left arm attempting to come to rest against Raiko's throat, right held in parallel to Raiko's, fingers grasping for his wrist to pull it back and against his spine, all in one graceful motion.
Raiko snarls right back, the sound torn from his throat, before he actually whimpers, but only very softly as he is grabbed. He becomes still then as the arm rests against his throat and his wrist against his spine. Silvery tears glisten on his cheeks, despite his best efforts not to cry, but he doesn't writhe, nor make a sound, unable to look at Mictian then, shame colouring his cheeks.
The gymleader presses his palms against the stone floor, pushing himself gradually away from Raiko, gathering distance in groups of inches, before finally satisfied with his freedom of movement, no longer entrapped under Raiko's attacking shape, and scrambling to his feet. He stares at Raiko for long moments, before simply shaking his head. "Vendetta," he calls, head slightly inclined to the side. It's a name, that much is clear - and even before the pokémon appears, Raiko probably has a pretty good idea of what to expect. The purple outline shimmers into view, and that long, thick tail lashes in agitation as the Mewtwo crouches slightly to peer at him at eye level from a distance.
Raiko trembles and cowers, although he has courage leaning against Dakarai, whimpering very softly and not looking away from an empty spot of ground not far away. He doesn't say anything, though, nor move.
"Mr. Zelenka." Each syllable is pronounced with that icy clarity that he'd come to hate long ago, his own name sending a chill down his spine. "Decide: either I will have Vendetta forcibly remove you from the arena and confine you to your room for lack of your maturity - or we will restrain you here, if you feel capable of remaining." At least he was being given a choice, even if both heavily rung of mistrust on sides of the gymleader, his eyes narrowed.
Raiko shudders, head bowed in abject apology. "Here," he speaks, brokenly, sounding completely beaten. "I'll behave." He shivers then, seeming to sink into himself, his shoulders hunching. He licks at his lips then, a soft sob slipping from him.
Dakarai's arms slowly slide away from Raiko's shape, letting him move... at least for a fraction of a second, before the Mewtwo narrows its eyes and draws Raiko up into the air, slowly, the air shimmering around him and keeping him immobile. In his mind, he can hear a frightfully dark voice command: ~Sit. Down.~ A moment later, he's been plunked onto one row of benches, the not entirely soft impact rattling slightly up his spine, even as 'Vendetta' begins to walk up the side, evidently planning to settle down beside him as his watcher. Hopefully, that was all this grouchy fellow was going to do - at whim of those psychic powers, Raiko felt like a Puppet, and a nightmarish vision of being unable to close his eyes crosses his mental landscape for a moment.
Raiko whimpers very softly before he is silent, his tears falling like gentle rain down his face. He jolts once as he is dropped on to the bench but he doesn't move, obediently staying put, his chin resting against his chest and he doesn't look up, although he doesn't close his eyes.
'Mictian' brushes himself down. With the playing field shuffled, Raiko can see what made the soft noise initially - it looks like a fairly oldfashioned chalice of sorts, though it's hard to see what's inside it... but it's no challenge for imagination to fill that blank. It's stood on the ground not far from where Dakarai is now, shifting so his back is to Raiko - but is that out of spite or out of caring? - crouching back down and shifting to rest on his knees. It looks like neither of them intends to pay any more attention to him - though perhaps it's best that way.
Vendetta shifts to sit on a seat right behind Raiko, letting its telekinetic grip on his shape relax as it does, instead resting its forearms on the backs of the seats of his row, three-fingered forepaws wrapping around his arms near the shoulders. ~Don't even think about it,~ its voice growl into Raiko's mind, referring to any future attempts of his to interfere.
Raiko shivers. "I won't." His voice cracks then he is silent, shape sagged, all energy having drained from him. The tears slide down his face faster, but he doesn't care to hide his emotion now without that he makes a sound. Raising his head, he leans back against the seat, staring down at the two, his tongue flicking across his lips.
With a sigh, 'Mictian' moves to crouch before Dakarai, raising his left hand to his face to grip his chin slightly. "All right, I'll bite," he says, tone conversational, even as his right hand is fishing for the item he'd brought along, without that his gaze drifts away from Dakarai's face. "I don't usually ask this question in this particular context, but you just keep prompting it: why? Are you just sick of life - or did you actually have a motive?" While he's not keeping his voice artificially low, chances are it's not all too easy for Raiko to make the words out.
Raiko shivers a little as he strains to hear, but he doesn't move away nor does he make a sound, his eyes drifting closed, silver beads of water lining his eyelashes. "I know," he whispers, very lowly. "I'm just a weak, over emotional meat sack." He falls silent again.
~Quiet, human,~ Vendetta's voice hisses into his mind, and the pokémon pulls him back against the seat, its grip on his arms tightening a little.
Meanwhile, the immediate answer is a moment of silence, before Dakarai whispers: "She kept a legendary, until you took it away from her in Vereheq. She never fought with it - but you'd punish her regardless. Are you honestly going to tell me you expected me to say nothing - nothing at all?" He closes his eyes. "I was as vague as I could be without losing my credibility. But it doesn't matter. She'll come up here for Nikki, if nothing else. It's moot now."
Raiko shudders, but makes not a sound, eyes remaining closed even as he swallows hard. His hair clings damply to his forehead and he lets himself sag further, slouching in the seat now, his tears soaking the collar of his shirt.
He nods at Dakarai, slowly, understanding. "Well, our opinions differ," he remarks, neutrally. "But it's good to know you had a motive, at least," he exhales audibly, glancing down to his right hand briefly, steadying its motion. "Running away wouldn't have suited you." The rim of the cup comes to rest against Dakarai's lower lip. "Go on," he coaxes, softly. "Drink."
Raiko opens his eyes then and raises his head, looking towards the two, without that he says anything, or moves, or at least he doesn't move in an attempt to get up. His fingers flex and he swallows, hard, but can't find it in himself to look away.
There's hesitation, of course - no amount of courage is going to make poisoning oneself easy in a hurry, unless one was truly suicidally inclined, which, despite everything, Dakarai was not. His hands loosely resting on his knees, he flexes them slightly, before squeezing his pretty eyes shut and taking a sip. Eugh, bitter. No surprise there - but a petty part of him wishes for some sugar and berates the man holding the cup for not ceding that courtesy.
Raiko trembles, face scrunching up, but he doesn't make a sound, terrified of the pokémon behind him. He swallows then, silently, choking on a sob that never leaves him and he turns his head away, trembling even more as the tears pour faster till they are almost a tsunami.
"Drink up - unless you're in the mood for a horribly excrutiating and drawn-out death, which, well... knowing you...?" 'Mictian' mocks slightly, fondly. Something about his calmness seems off, as though it weren't natural to him... not right now. He's gentle in tilting the goblet and a frown touches his lips, pulling their corners down into a grimace.
A few moments pass, before the last drop rolls from the metal its crafted from, and Dakarai's face contorts in a sour grimace, moving his head to the side, air hissing from him, before he coughs reflexively, twice, loudly. "Fuck," he mutters, though it's more to himself.
Raiko sobs, silently pinching at the bridge of his nose, trying to shock pain himself out of his tears, but he fails and he sags further, his shoulders hunching as he half closes his eyes, pain evident in every line of his shape.
A tremor runs through Dakarai's shape, his hands flexing, and, eyes squeezing shut again, he exhales audibly, in a soft wince. Then he seems to quieten, though, remaining sat as he is... waiting. Arms slide around his shape, pulling him into a loose hug - item discarded with a soft clatter - and 'Mictian's gaze shifts to latch onto Raiko, through him, looking quite bitter, his jawline resting against the side of Dakarai's head at height of his cheek bone, holding him silently.
Raiko shudders and looks away, eyes closing. 'I'm sorry,' he mouths, silently. He doesn't say anything then and pinches his nose harder, any pain he's causing himself numbed by his grief. Swallowing hard, he lowers his hand from his nose, his lithe shape trembling.
The hug tightens into something like a grip as Dakarai's shape is gripped by a reflexive spasm and the attempt to curl forward and in on himself - a pitiful sound surfaces from him, mixture of gasp and whimper of pain, and he lets himself lean forward, sagging slightly, his right hand rising to rest against the gymleader's back, fingers curling into the fabric of his jacket as though for support. The softest series of whimpers spills from him as he buries his face into the man's shoulder.
Raiko flinches, eyes remaining closed and he doesn't make a sound, although he is crying - harder than he has done in a great number of years. He half turns away then, burying his face in his hands.
'Mictian' bites his lower lip with visible force, causing the skin to pale further, his eyes closing as he holds Dakarai's now shivering shape. "Shh," he says, softly, whispering, his arms pressed against the suffering shape, circled around it supportingly. Could he imagine what he was feeling right now, other than a horrible, all-consuming cold? Not really - especially since it was beyond Dakarai's abilities to say something as trivial as: "It hurts." It just wasn't part of his vocabulary - but it probably rung true now.
Raiko trembles without that he moves further or makes a sound, crumpling in on himself, as his tears fade and he licks at his lips thirstily, having cried so much that he just can't cry any more. He takes in huge but soft gasping gulps of air, but that is the only sound that comes from him.
Slowly, very slowly, the trembles subside, defeatedly - he's still breathing, though, a strange calmness setting in, crowding into the remnant of conscious thought as he feels a numbness close in on his shape, pleasant in that it dispells the sensation of stabbing cold. Not finding the energy to speak, his lips move in silence, mouthing 'Thank you,' though he distantly wonders if anyone will ever know what for. Smiling lightly, he decides he has faith that it will be understood, and he lets himself relax.
Raiko sags further, almost curling into a ball as he flicks a look to the other two men, before finding himself unable to look away. Feeling drained, he swallows hard, trying to gather himself, but, on failing that, he just lets his mind go blank.
Arguably, it's not easy for Raiko to tell the last breath for what it is - he's not at an angle to see those subtle motions; but indirectly, it becomes evident as a violent shudder seizes 'Mictian's shoulders, travelling down through his arms, them shifting to cling to the lifeless shape, and silent tears of very real grief leak from his eyes, his teeth gritted to force himself into silence, his cheek pressed against Dakarai's head.
Raiko whimpers, almost soundlessly, before he sags completely, looking and feeling drained of anything and everything, his last coherent thoughts before he collapses being of Dakarai. Shivers wrack his lithe form, but he's too wrapped in grief to notice anything that is going on around him.
Vendetta stirs slightly behind Raiko, and a sound issues from its throat, a low rumble of idle disapproval... before its grip on Raiko relents and its right forepaw gives his respective shoulder a pat. A moment later, the purple pokémon has vanished, leaving Raiko to himself, alone in the room but for this stranger and the dead husk of someone he used to love.
Raiko slids off the seat and staggers to his feet, walking down into the arena and crumpling beside Mictian, silently, head bowed as the tears start to flow again. He doesn't say a word, nor has he got the energy to resist anything that may happen to him.