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Okay, whatever. God forbid he try to understand what the fuck she was talking about with her fifteen kinds of unexplained jargon. Dave stuffed the rest of the burger into his mouth. What the fuck did it matter anyway? The politics of some other universe he'd never visit anyway and was shortly...

"Wait, I thought you said humans can't build shit in the deepwilds. You've got train tracks and roads going through it? Or are you saying most territory is just like, off-route non-deepwild, and people never have to pass through the actual deepwilds?" That made more sense, probably. (But then...

“Right. So when people who aren’t trainers need to pass through, they just don’t? Or do people, like, hire a trainer?” He paused. “I guess if you’ve got air travel you can get between places without touching the actual deepwilds per se. What did you do before inventing commercial flight?” He...

There was that again. "So is like... everyone a trainer in your universe? Adults? Where I live it's mostly kids and the competitive league circuit. I mean, people have pets and all, but not actual battling teams, most of the time."

Ancient times with wars and shit. A postwar society? Maybe sapient Pokémon just didn't do war, and they kept human tribalism in check. That'd be something. Killing and eating people, A-okay, but not on an organized scale, you lunatics. "How big is the 'deepwilds'? Like, you made it sound like...

"Law of the jungle, huh?" Dave quirked an eyebrow. "So civilization is just, what, contained within pre-designated cities and routes, and if you go outside of that, it's Pokémon territory and fair game to murder you?" Jesus. "Don't think people'd take kindly to that one in my world. Human...

"...Huh." Dave peered at Starr. "The pact?"

"Huh. Well, my kids brought a fucking Arcanine to a gunfight and it was shot down before it could do a thing, so going to venture that our Pokémon are a good bit more fragile than yours." Dave gulped down more of his soda, the carbonation stinging in his throat. That was about as good as it...

Dave quirked an eyebrow. "Well, in my universe a trained human with a gun's a pretty good match for most Pokémon. What, they immune to bullets in yours?"

Dave snorted. "Yeah. Pokémon being pretty much the same everywhere except they have wildly different levels of sapience? The actual fuck's that about." Legendaries, though. Powers rivaling a small army, concentrated in a single being. Christ. "I guess if they can be taken down that's...

"I mean, it's not like the genetic engineering is surprising. I'm a geneticist, I do engineering research. It's just, how the fuck did Rocket geneticists in your universe just so happen to create the same thing as a bunch of fucking nutcases made up out of whole cloth in mine and then some...

Dave blinked. He honestly wasn't even sure what was more disturbing, teenagers being manipulated by legendaries, or legendaries being manipulated by fucking teenagers. "Honestly? That sounds like you have more to worry about. Good Christ." He had an unsatisfying gulp of soda. "I guess there's...

Dave grimaced and knocked back more of his soda. "You've got legendary bullshit going on too? Should've fucking figured." So, what? These kids were involved in shit that involved not only gangsters but fucking gods? That was probably worse, but it was harder to see it as real. Even after...

"Huh. Didn't you say they dragged you back into the Rocket shit in the first place?" She'd definitely said that. "If you can just drag them off to another region with you, then yeah, for the love of all things holy, drag the teenagers away from the armed gangsters."

"Fair enough." Dave had another sip of his soda and wished it was alcoholic. "I guess you're going back to being chased down by Team Fucking Rocket, huh?"

Dave looked at her silently as he chewed on his food. A time when I actually did something right and made people happy. Jeez. Starr usually seemed in pretty decent spirits these days on Cibus, but she was sure making it sound like her life back home was all doom and gloom. He swallowed...

Dave sipped the soda for a moment, raising an eyebrow. "What, as some kind of subconscious thing? 'I swear I was a dog in a past life' shit? Or just magically getting it back one day, becoming convinced you were abducted to another planet by a shadow being and probably getting written off as a...

"Well, hands'll certainly help. Been missing those." Dave took a critical sip of the soda. It was... fine. Drinkable. "But like I mentioned back when..." He waved a paw. "...whenever we last talked, my world's pretty shit. Hard to look forward to continuing to have to fight tooth and nail to let...

Dave slid into the seat with a sigh, giving the soda a critical look. “Okay. Done with that bullshit show fight. One more grand finale and then we all get to go home. Going to be great having some fucking hands again at least.”

This time at the Cauldron, Dave just ordered a burger and a soda. He barely even knew what Cibusian soda tasted like. Would this be any good? Probably fucking not, but whatever. He turned restlessly to look for a place to sit and eyed Starr alone in a booth. Did he want company? He glanced at...