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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...

Dave looked after Brisa as she suddenly up and left. Something to eat. Sure. Without really thinking about it, he flopped onto the ground, groaning. Jesus, this place. He couldn't get home soon enough. Of course, now that he thought about it he was pretty hungry. What did Poochyena eat in the...

Dave stared at her for a moment. Well, fuck. "That's, uh. That sucks. Jesus." He paused. "Well, maybe he was a human. Maybe he wasn't. Not like it matters much now, if he's gone."

"Huh. I guess maybe there's something to it? If they're disappearing into thin air with no other explanation..." Dave looked searchingly at Brisa. "What? Why?"

Dave chuckled. "Okay, fair. I don't have convenient amnesia and was brought here by a known entity through a known mechanism, though. You know Diyem is real and brought you here too, so if he could take you world-hopping, why not a human. Is there a mechanism behind these guys? Did somebody...

"What 'other stuff'? Honestly you sound like probably the most sensible person in your world." He thought of Jean, coming home crying from her first day of school after being inevitably targeted by bullies; of Mia, probably the smartest person in any room she entered, being treated like a freak...

"Wait, if they have total retrograde amnesia, how do you know they're human in the first place? Even if they say they remember that, like, is there any evidence they're not just Pokémon who want to be special?" Dave took a deep breath. "As for my society, no. It's pretty shit. Technology's...

"Huh," Dave said again. "Where do the humans waking up as Pokémon in your world come from?" This world sure sounded a lot more similar to Brisa's world than his own. Some of the others had sounded like their worlds were similar, too. Then why were there also people like him, and that person...

"...Huh." Well, that was interesting. Ancient knowledge? "Did there used to be humans in your world?" Maybe, back when there were humans, Pokémon didn't talk there, either. Had they just evolved more advanced communication, begun to use human tools after some kind of human-extinction-level...

"Yeah, that's my point. I could definitely believe this is just whoever agreed to Diyem's thing and he's dressing it up like 'Ooh, you've all got a hero's aura' to make it sound like he didn't just pick up any jackass who'd bite." He paused. "Me? I'm a geneticist. Do you even have genetics in...

"Ha. Yeah. Might be it." Dave snorted. "'Hero's aura', a.k.a. saying yes to a thing. Good job. Any asshole can say yes to anything." He shook his head. "Well, at least it means there's a bunch of us. Maybe we won't all die. Not that it'd apparently matter if we did, according to Diyem. I mean...

"Thanks, but I'll manage." Dave said. "Think I've got some, uh, Poochyena instincts to figure out how to pilot this fluffball around." The way she was smiling at him was almost disconcerting, overly eager to be of assistance. "So... what do you do over in your world? Feel like somebody who'd...

"I mean, that's a complicated line to draw, biologically. Many Pokémon are pretty smart in their own sort of way, but they don't speak a language, you know? No communicating complex thoughts and ideas in a consistent intelligible way. Usually they don't use tools, or very primitively. They sure...

"Oh yeah, deeply weird and distressing just about covers it." Dave scratched his ear with a hind paw, then made a face at it. "I'm used to living in a world where Pokémon don't talk. And not being a dog, Jesus Christ. Humans have hands to do things with."

"Oh. Hi. Dave." He gestured at the room with a paw. "If you were looking for some peace and quiet for tonight, this place is some kind of reinforced bomb shelter and it's got room for a few more. I was just heading out to see if anyone else wanted in."