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Dave landed, panting. "Ow, fuck." Something about the bleeding scratches in his side was distinctly worse than Owen's previous hits, a deep stinging sensation. He wanted to lick them, but no. He could at least draw that line. At this point the instinct to hightail it somewhere safe was...

Dave yelped at the sight of flames shooting into his path and made an attempt to slow down or turn around, but his momentum just sent him tumbling over himself, straight into the path of the flames, and from there to sliding a couple feet in the dirt. Ow. He dragged himself to his feet...

Dave barreled into Owen, feeling a burst of strange satisfaction as the Charmander seemed taken by surprise at the impact - only to be hit by a kick in his side that, despite the optimistic hope he'd been nurturing that maybe Pokémon just didn't feel much pain, still definitely hurt...

Dave froze for a moment as the Charmander came at him. But then those strange instincts kicked in, his body seemed to coil like a spring, and he was bolting out of the way with speed that blindsided him. It probably seemed faster because he was small, but - a curious giddy feeling of boundless...

"Uh. I'm..." Dave stood there, already regretting this. Owen could set him on fucking fire. Why was he doing this again? He had no idea what a Poochyena could even do. Probably bite, but... honestly, he'd rather not. "...Why don't you start." He could try to dodge something, maybe?

Dave blinked at Owen. Honestly the whole fighting thing... didn't sound terribly appealing. He'd not really been thinking about it much but imagining he'd just have to kind of be on the sidelines, more on the brains side of things than the brawn. Basically a trainer or something - not that he'd...

"I mean, yeah. I've been a Pokémon for a fucking day. Not the most thought-out decision on Diyem's part to expect us all to be able to fight worth shit, to be honest."

"I mean, I guess it depends how you define a 'demon', but, uh. What they call demons in my universe definitely doesn't exist, and the thing called dark matter in my universe does exist but is very much not a fucking demon." Dave paused. "When you say 'demon', are we actually talking some kinda...

"...a demon." Dave looked at the strange creature, deadpan. "Right."

Dave blinked at the alien, then burst into a snort of laughter. "The talking Pokémon have grenades. Okay. Man, this fucking universe." Honestly that probably sounded better than actually fighting-fighting. "So what, you've got planets like mine in your universe? Do they have Pokémon or humans...

All right, do I post here to distribute my stat points? I think I'd like to do... +8 to Stamina +7 to Attack +6 to HP +3 to Defense +4 to Resistance I'd also like to learn Howl and Sand-Attack, such that Dave's moveset is now Tackle, Taunt, Howl and Sand-Attack.

"Sorry, can we start with what the fuck a Blast Seed is? Some of us are from worlds that look nothing like this one." Dave paused for a moment. "If we've got somebody who can hit them where it hurts, well - don't we just need some other people to be there to distract them, draw their attention?"

Dave wandered back into the main square. Where had everyone gone? He supposed he did hear a commotion somewhere in the dojo as he was leaving it; maybe some of the idiots here had gone and started a fight and it'd distracted everyone. He wouldn't be surprised. He eyed Owen and the big low-poly...

Thanks for an insightful review! Mmm, yeah. I've never been entirely happy with the development of the narrator's relationship with Pidgey. I set about editing this basically deciding I wasn't going to add more scenes or majorly flesh it out, because I wanted to actually get a thing posted...

The box bonked Dave in the head and then fell to the ground. "Jesus. What's wrong with you." Could dogs eat chocolate in this world? ...Whatever. Let Diyem fix it. "Thanks for the chocolate, asshole." He picked up the box in his jaws and left the room.

Dave stared at him, everything boiling. "An apology? You bizarre fucking shitclown. Here you are sneaking into rooms like the creepiest fucking stalker, going on about your fucking feelings for me, and I'm the fucking weirdo? I swear to God, you may be the most insufferable motherfucker I've...

"Oh my God. You are out of your fucking mind." Even as he said that, even as all that ran through his head was how this insane fucking excuse for a person could even exist, the fact the Zangoose was three times his size somehow rendered the whole situation less funny than it should have been...

"Oh my God. Are you fucking serious with this?" Somehow, among all the levels on which this was ridiculous, the one that truly stuck out was that anyone whose idea of sexy was a fucking Poochyena should not be dated by anyone.

Dave peered at the babbling Zane, and at the heart-shaped box. "...Please tell me you're not trying to say what it sounds like you're trying to say."

"Augh! What the fuck -" Dave jolted awake in a state of sudden panic as an unfamiliar weight flopped onto his back. His limbs failed automatically for purchase, and after a second of struggling he managed to squeeze out from underneath the mass of white fur. Without thinking, on instinct, he...