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Blaguarro Town Blaguarro Outskirts

"Well, so long as you're vague enough about what 'saving the world' means, everyone tends to be in favor of saving the world." And their cloudy benefactor sure had been extremely vague.

Odette scoffed. "You'd actually be surprised. I've had the unfortunate honor of meeting a few who would have preferred to do the opposite." But that was neither here nor there.

"The specifics are a bit lost but apparently he stopped a mass infestation of Mystery Dungeons - places where common sense has its head on backwards. Dunno what exactly was causing them or how it was stopped but the less Dungeons the better, you know? Nasty pieces of work those are, especially those haunted ones."
"Wait, Mystery Dungeons...like...the fucking video games?" she asked incredulously. "That's a thing here?"

Now it was all starting to make sense. The Pokemon body, the nonsense about humans being some mythical creatures, the stories of this Jesse Stranger person (sounded like a godsdamned stripper name, but she wouldn't say that out loud and put a damper on Jaak's mood). She widened her eyes in abject distress.

Did I just get sucked into a fucking video game?

She knew nothing about those games aside from what she'd heard from her friends back in secondary school. Which had been years ago at this point. It'd taken her some time to learn that "dungeon" was just a gaming term for some sort of labyrinth where you fought hostiles and not an actual underground prison (or, more explicitly, an S/M club. That would have just been ridiculous, and really fucking weird), but the extent of her knowledge ended there. There were dungeons here, and apparently, they could be haunted. And cause an infestation.

Jaak nodded. "As for the clothes, it makes distinguishing us thinking folk with the wild mons out there real easy since you can't really tell at a glance. So it's better to assume that anything without clothes is a wild. It's also, you know, more civilised. I'm sure you humans can understand what I'm getting at here."
The realization also made the clothing distinction make far more sense. Not that it was okay in her world to run around naked, but she understood the need to stand out from the wildings.

"Some of the finest!" Jaak answered. "A lot of bipeds love more elaborate clothes like that, so there's quite a market for it. Normally it would cost ya but let's just pretend some flew out of the train on the way if anyone questions," he added with a wink.
Still, she beamed at Jaak's good-natured response. It was a nice contrast from the tense back-and-forth she'd just gone through with Wes and strange Gladion. They were whispering among one another now, and she could have sworn she heard the syllables of her own name at some point. If either one of them had any more to say, she wished they'd do it to her face and not in their little bromance circle, so she could at least have the opportunity to knock their heads together. But, Jaak's friendly demeanor started to put her in a far better mood. She was definitely wrong about him, and she'd proudly admit that.

"Say less. That sounds like a plan," she said.

“Well, back in the human world” - or at least his human world, though now he was imagining other worlds where humans considered civilization to involve walking around stark naked but with a bandana, and wished to unimagine it - “usually the ‘civilized’ bit involves covering your genitals, not just throwing on one arbitrary item somewhere, but sure.”
She snickered at Dave's quip. "I mean...a lot of Pokemon are covered in fur. If you have that, I think you're just accessorizing at that point." However that didn't answer any questions about the ones who had scales, or exoskeletons, or spectral ooze, something reminiscent of standard human flesh. That felt like a whole rabbit hole she could go down, so she opted to cease her thoughts there.

Rest assured, though, genitals would indeed be covered in her case.
 
Odette scoffed. "You'd actually be surprised. I've had the unfortunate honor of meeting a few who would have preferred to do the opposite." But that was neither here nor there.
Dave raised an eyebrow. "Doomsday cults?"

She snickered at Dave's quip. "I mean...a lot of Pokemon are covered in fur. If you have that, I think you're just accessorizing at that point." However that didn't answer any questions about the ones who had scales, or exoskeletons, or spectral ooze, something reminiscent of standard human flesh. That felt like a whole rabbit hole she could go down, so she opted to cease her thoughts there.
"Yeah, I wouldn't have assumed I'd need clothing on top of thick fur. I'm already hot, thanks." The desert heat was stifling, and some Poochyena instinct in his brain kept wanting to open his mouth and just pant, which he'd resisted so far. "But I guess if the point is 'anything to advertise you're not a dumb animal', it's whatever."

The casualness of how Jaak had suggested just plain stealing clothes off the train was quite something. Not that his heart was breaking for a Pokémon clothing company in the cartoon universe losing a few items, but... He turned to Jaak again. "You sure we're going to get away with just grabbing shit?"
 
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"I don't actually know..." Jaak admitted mareepishly, scratching the back of his head. "And he hasn't been around Frontier Town for a good while based on the rumours."
"Yeah, figured. Thanks for the info anyway."

As for the stuff about mystery dungeons, none of it made any sense to Isidora’s understanding of the concept, she wasn't even sure where to begin. Then Odette’s comment somehow made it make less sense. “I don’t think any of us mean the same thing by ‘mystery dungeon.’ But whatever.” She added it to the pile of things to figure out later, alongside what’s a video game?

"As for the clothes, it makes distinguishing us thinking folk with the wild mons out there real easy since you can't really tell at a glance. So it's better to assume that anything without clothes is a wild. It's also, you know, more civilised. I'm sure you humans can understand what I'm getting at here."
Her fur bristled at 'thinking folk.' This 'mon's too innocent. Literally no tact. Still, he wasn't wrong. She didn't have a bag or her guild badges anymore, so there really was no way to prove she wasn't wild.

Her ear twitched at Gladion's whispering to Wes, but she wasn't in the right frame of mind to eavesdrop on them. If it meant fewer shouting matches on the train, she figured it was a good thing at least some of them were getting along fine. Where does that leave me, though? From what she could tell, Bellatrix might’ve been the only other non-human in the group...

Irritated, she carefully poked Jaak's arm. "Hey, you didn't answer me about water. There is water at the station, right?"
 
Dave raised an eyebrow. "Doomsday cults?"
Odette raised an eyebrow back at him. "Should I be concerned about how you managed to get that right on the first try? Or are you fucking with me?" she queried with an air of jest.

"You sure we're going to get away with just grabbing shit?"
Yeah, there was a part of her that wasn't entirely privy to stealing. There was even a part of her that considered the prospects of fully trusting Jaak. But in the end, she was in a naked Pokemon's body, in a strange desert land, and her arm. Houndoom bite and burn scars did not look great against her new pink skin. Not that they looked any better on her normal body, but gods. Why did those have to transfer over too?

Something else to the list of things to grab. Muzzle or rope. Dress. Sleeves. Dress with sleeves, preferably. She'd let the karma come for her later.

"Not that I'm versed in the art of grand theft attire, but as long as we're not stupid about it, I will gladly take the opportunity."

“I don’t think any of us mean the same thing by ‘mystery dungeon.’ But whatever.”
She shot a look back at the sneasel. "I mean...sure, I guess not. Clearly my definition doesn’t apply here.”

Still, she was having a hard time wrapping her head around the idea that she might have been straight up dropped into a virtual world. Nothing had been said about that being the case, and it felt like something that would be worth mentioning. Was there a chance she'd hopped wormholes and ended up in a place where they were physically real?

"Hey, you didn't answer me about water. There is water at the station, right?"
When Isidora mentioned water, however, that suddenly became all she could think about. "Wow, that sounds excellent. Water and a shaded bench. Might as well be at the fucking Ritz," she sighed.
 
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"You sure we're going to get away with just grabbing shit?"

This gave Wes some pause. Swiping some clothes? In his human form, that would have been no problem. But his human form had the advantage of opposable thumbs, a voice that didn’t break out in canine yaps, and (usually, on a good day), no injured limbs. The only thing he had going for him in this body was his obnoxiously small size.

…Actually, I can work with that.

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” he said. “Sounds like Jaak’s got our backs, and if we need to, we could always create a distraction to make things easier.” He glanced at Demon Jaws. “I’m not going to pretend I have any idea what the hell is going on with your possessed mouth, but if we do need a distraction, I think you’d be our best candidate.” And he really meant that sincerely, though whether Odette would take offense to his comment was unclear.
 
You could say that. I’ve got a pair of them back…” he trailed off, trying to find a suitable word because “home” was definitely not the right one, “back where I’m from. Brothers, raised em from Eevee since they were babies. And gods, do they keep my hands full, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“I…think I understand at least a little bit how you feel. Neo and Novo weren’t experiments, but…they…were about to become one.” He felt sick just speaking about it, as if the words were bile in his mouth. “I…cut ties and ran, too. Or maybe it’s more accurate to say I burned a few bridges.” He almost smirked at that, then realized it was probably best to not look like some kind of homicidal maniac. He coughed lightly. “Anyway, I uh…can relate a little, I guess.”
"Good riddance,” Gladion laughed, “Unfortunately for certain people’s predictions that I’d be an arsonist before an adult, the place Hazel was hurt is stubbornly metal."

“You know…I don’t mean to discount what you’re feeling, but have you thought that maybe the Gladion she knows is from a different point in time? Maybe one that hasn’t met Hazel yet? Or maybe he does have a version of Hazel with him, but he’s found a safe place for her, or he’s still keeping her a sec—ah, dammit—” he cursed as he stumbled over a stray rock in the sand and hissed as his leg flared up in pain. He straightened and pushed forward, determined to ignore the increasing ache. “S-sorry. Anyway, what I mean to say is, there’s a million different reasons for why she might not know about her world’s version of Hazel, y’know? And they might not be the worst case scenario you’re thinking of.”
“Can’t be before, just not possible given the circumstances that far back into my childhood. Barring that even if she is fine I can’t imagine it’d be anything but a bitter parting.”

“You know, normally this kind of thing isn’t my speed, either. But for once, I didn’t mind it.” He shot Gladion a slightly abashed look. “And I guess I should, uh…apologize for earlier. It’s not like it was your fault for our cushy landing back there.” He then smirked a little at the dress-up comment. “Right, dress-up. Because that’s my favorite thing and definitely preferable to friendly conversation. Can’t wait.”
“Likewise. And don’t worry about the landing. Can’t say I’d be pleased if the reverse had happened. Even if I can’t say it wasn’t a little annoying but it was at least in a way that makes sense.”
 
“So since it seems like he’s an extant figure and this all happened in the past few decades, what’s up with people not believing in humans? Do they just figure he’s a strong Pokémon and the human bit is bullshit?”

[...]

He turned to Jaak again. "You sure we're going to get away with just grabbing shit?"
"Wait, Mystery Dungeons...like...the fucking video games?" she asked incredulously. "That's a thing here?"

[...]

"Not that I'm versed in the art of grand theft attire, but as long as we're not stupid about it, I will gladly take the opportunity."
"Some folks say that the stories are a bit, ah, exaggerated," Jaak explained. "Don't have anything to go off except second, third, even fourth-hand word. It's a pretty hard sell when you aren't there to see it." His gaze then shifted towards Odette. "I have no idea what that is!" he gleefully exclaimed. "Maybe you can tell me more when we have the time."

To the both of them he added, "And don't worry! I'm breaking five different rules already. What's one extra? Just make sure that you put everything else exactly how you found it and no one will bat an eye."

Irritated, she carefully poked Jaak's arm. "Hey, you didn't answer me about water. There is water at the station, right?"
"I know, I know," Jaak replied. "I'll get some water for you lot once we— Would you look at that! We're here!"

They hadn't walked into town proper. Rather, the group was led towards and along the railway itself until they reached one of the few freight cars that composed length of the steam locomotive. Jaak looked around and gave a thumbs up when the coast was clear, wasting no time to grab a bucket and ladle of water before loading it and everyone else into the van.

"Try not to spill it," he said. "Wouldn't want any to get on the cargo." Nodding, he straightened his vest. "I'm gonna have a chat to secure the duty this evening," he added. "Don't make any noise back there. Don't even pick anything out until we start moving, just to be on the safe side."

Before any more words could be exchanged, the door was slid shut, leaving the stowaways in total, stuffy darkness.


Though the inside of the freight car would've comfortable accommodated most of the group, with Gladion, it was a bit of a tight squeeze. Those with nightvision would've seen that the hold was stacked with cases filled with all sorts of clothing and accessories, all specially tailored to accommodate all shapes and sizes.

Of course, it was a bit of a wait before anyone could do anything besides refresh themselves with water, take a nap or think really hard about how nice they'll look in a hat or kerchief. Thankfully, Jaak's friendly voice, yelling about the train being ready to go, marked the end of their wait as it was only a couple of minutes when the carriage lurched with movement.

All that was left to do was pick out their garments, with Bellatrix hopping up onto her paws to start the search.
 
Well. They were stowing away on an old-fashioned steam locomotive. And as Dave dug critically through the boxes of clothing, the general fashion was also distinctly dated. Some were filled with top hats, long black overcoats, corsets and long decorative dresses, gold-tipped canes; others with rugged leather vests, bandanas, belts, wool shirts and cowboy hats.

This wasn't a cartoon, it was a Western.

How to look sapient in cowboy talking Pokémon world? He considered grabbing one of the cowboy hats; at least it'd keep the sun out of his eyes, even if he'd look fucking ridiculous. But in the end he found an adjustable belt intended for quadrupeds with a couple of small leather satchels attached on each side and a few extra loops to attach things to, and that seemed like the most actually useful thing there - he had no hands in this place, let alone pockets, so for the purposes of being able to carry anything whatsoever, he was going to need something like it.

Back at the Spirit Nexus, the cloud had told that one Deerling that everyone in Forlas had close-range telekinesis. What a batshit fucking concept, but it did work; awkward as it was, he could grab things with his paws simply by meaning to grab them. Maneuvering the belt on was clumsy as hell - he managed it by laying it out in a circle, sitting down inside it, and then pulling it up and working the buckle with paw magic - but that, too, worked.

It wasn't super comfortable, but he'd get used to it.
 
'Thorough' was a drastic understatement of Bellatrix's search for an accessory. Each and every article was turned upside down and inside out then again, for good measure, before it was thrown on the floor for the others to take a gander at. These were probably the finest clothes they would have access to in a long while. She refused to waste the opportunity.

Of them all, a scarf spun from a combination of spinarak and tarountula silk - offering the softness of the former but the durability of the latter - dyed a deep, midnight blue was the one to catch her eye. Meticulously sown into its seams was an (albeit fake) looplet-like gem that bore a striking resemblance a turquoise fire opal. Wrapped within the scarf was a pair of laced gauntlets made of black leather with a red trim, decorated with differently shaped but similar stones. The bracers, which had certainly been designed for a pokémon of her size and stature, were a perfect fit.

The scarf was a bit more tricky, seeing that her natural ruff made wearing any neckwear awkward to say the very least. The only answer that made any form of sense was to wear it like her looplet back in Kythra: around the base of her tail, even if it did mean that the ends would be trailing along on the ground all the time.

Once she was done tying everything up, ensuring that nothing was too tight or loose, she sat down in the corner of the car. "I'll tidy it up later," being all that she said.
 
Isidora’s eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness, and she watched as everyone got to picking outfits. She was about to awkwardly offer her help putting stuff on for the quadrupeds of the group, but before she could work up the courage, Dave had already grabbed, actually grabbed with his paws, a belt, and her eyes widened to twice their size.

All pokémon could use minor Telekinesis here. The voice mentioned that.

It was more than surprising. It was a miracle.

Isidora looked down at her half-sheathed claws. She had spent so much time learning dexterity the hard way. She clenched them and closed her eyes. Old habits die just as hard.

She grumbled her way over to a crate and started sifting through it. “Clothing’s for pretentious losers...” she mumbled quietly to herself, carefully grabbing things the way she was used to. “Gimme a bag, something practical...” She couldn’t help but notice how much of everything was leather. This stuff’s gotta be expensive, right? Perhaps leather was a major industry in this world. But what did that imply? She held up a leather vest, then threw it back in. Not wearing that.

She ended up gravitating towards a crate of footwear. Her feet had lost their callouses, and maybe it was the heat but she didn’t have the patience to build them up again. Already she found herself picky; so many boots. Is it even possible to run in some of this? She instead went through multiple pairs of sandals, struggling to fasten most of them on, until she finally stumbled on something about her size that didn’t feel too bad. She tapped a foot against the floor. I'll just have to get used to it.

Next, she managed to find a decent satchel, and paired it with a belt with it's own small bag too: classic adventurer gear. And while she was at it, she figured maybe a good hat would help with the sun and not be too out of line. She settled on a wide-brimmed, brown leather hat with holes for her ears. I’ll have to find something else when I evolve. A sigh. I have no idea where I'm gonna find another claw for that.

Though, the hat admittedly felt a little silly when she put it on. Suddenly self-conscious, she quickly took a look around for a reflection and settled for the water bucket. How do I look?

...Like a pretentious loser.


She took the hat off for now. I’m still keepin’ it.
 
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” he said. “Sounds like Jaak’s got our backs, and if we need to, we could always create a distraction to make things easier.” He glanced at Demon Jaws. “I’m not going to pretend I have any idea what the hell is going on with your possessed mouth, but if we do need a distraction, I think you’d be our best candidate.” And he really meant that sincerely, though whether Odette would take offense to his comment was unclear.
When she met Wes's gaze, she half expected some sort of insult, and a flat expression crossed her features as a result. However, what came out was something airing more on the cordial side.

"Probably best that way," she said in regard to the former part of his statement. As for the latter half, she pursed her lips, slipping a sidelong glance at her jaws, which were already smirking at the thought. With a huff, her shoulders deflated.

"Yeah, nothing will catch their attentions more than demonic shrieking. I'll take that challenge if it arises."

"Try not to spill it," he said. "Wouldn't want any to get on the cargo." Nodding, he straightened his vest. "I'm gonna have a chat to secure the duty this evening," he added. "Don't make any noise back there. Don't even pick anything out until we start moving, just to be on the safe side."

Before any more words could be exchanged, the door was slid shut, leaving the stowaways in total, stuffy darkness.
After she clamored into the cart, she settled into her own little corner, but not before helping herself to the water. She watched as Jaak slid the door shut, and took a moment to relish in the shade and silence that briefly enveloped them.

"̷M̵a̵n̸,̴ ̵i̴t̷ ̷s̶m̸e̷l̷l̶s̶ ̶l̴i̸k̸e̸ ̶a̸ ̷m̶o̷t̵h̶i̴m̴ ̴w̷h̶o̷r̴e̸h̴o̸u̴s̷e̶ ̸i̸n̵ ̶h̵e̵r̷e̴,̸"̶ her jaws commented in a whisper.

She didn't immediately respond. She briefly debated if she should.

"Shut up," she eventually said.

Of course, it was a bit of a wait before anyone could do anything besides refresh themselves with water, take a nap or think really hard about how nice they'll look in a hat or kerchief. Thankfully, Jaak's friendly voice, yelling about the train being ready to go, marked the end of their wait as it was only a couple of minutes when the carriage lurched with movement.
While the ride in the car was no drive down the Alola city roads on her motorcycle, it was something. And now that they were well on their way, that meant it was time for the good stuff--finding something to wear.

Jaak hadn't been kidding, there was quite the variety of items to choose from. A part of her wanted to be shocked that there was such a western aesthetic going on, but it was the desert. Of course she'd need to be subjected to some cowboy hats and assless chaps. As she found a rack of ornately decorated dresses, she couldn't help her eager demeanor as she started thumbing through them. She felt like she was back in theater class, going through costumes for some sort of show. Now that she was thinking about it, she was getting quite the Moulin Rogue vibe from a few of the outfits. She came across a skimpier dress crafted almost entirely of feathers, and suddenly Burlesque popped into her head. She was humming through Christina Aguilera's run from the titular song before she could stop herself.

She came across a pink dress, one that she'd have undoubtedly grabbed in her human form. But pink on pink would probably wash her out. Too much bubblegum. She found a maroon one that looked nice, but would perhaps be too dark in the heat of the sun.

After some digging, her ensemble came together quite nicely--an airy off-white dress, quite short in the front while elongating out in the back. Dark red trim accented the folds of the chiffon, and a set of tasteful ruffled sleeves hung neatly against her shoulders. While the sleeves weren't long, she found a pair of arm socks that matched the trim instead. Stockings might have tied it all together, but her mawile legs were a tad wide for them, and she thought it looked rather ridiculous. In the end, she settled for a garterbelt--a little edgy, all with the convenience of having some place to tuck things she wasn't using. Paired with the smallest pair of boots she could find, she tied it all together with a corset, because what was a "painted lady" outfit without a fucking corset? Purely for the sake of the costume, of course. There was no way in hell she was tightening the thing.

She went back and forth for a few minutes deciding weather or not a feather in her hair would be too much. Something to really push the aesthetic, or just an obnoxious headpiece?

"̸W̷h̶a̶t̷ ̴y̸o̶u̷'̸r̵e̷ ̵n̸o̸t̶ ̸g̵o̵i̴n̴g̷ ̶t̷o̸ ̷d̵e̷c̴k̵ ̸m̴e̷ ̴o̵u̸t̵ ̷t̶o̵o̶?̶"̴ her jaws snapped. She shot them a look over she shoulder before looking back at the white feather in her hand again. Rolling her eyes, she stuck it on the base of the jaw's form.

"That and the fucking muzzle. Which I should..."

To her luck, there was no muzzle to fit the size of her jaws. But, she found the next best thing--a chain. With a couple of loops, she had it tied shut. Whether it would actually work, only time would tell. But, for the moment, she'd checked everything off her list.

"That should do," she said to herself.
 
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Though the inside of the freight car would've comfortably accommodated most of the group, with Gladion, it was a bit of a tight squeeze.
Gladion was pretty sure he’d never been this grateful for something that sucked this much before. A train going somewhere was far better than being stranded. In spite of that being crammed in there for the ride still, in fact, sucked. This trip was definitely about the destination and not the journey.

There was space around him, which was nice because it would’ve been far worse if there wasn’t, but there was a difference between enough space for everyone else to as they needed, and room for him to freely move around examining things while not able freely to look down into the boxes. At the same time, he didn’t imagine the railroad employees were going to let him make his choice of what to nick afterwards either. That meant—

Once she was done tying everything up, ensuring that nothing was too tight or loose, she sat down in the corner of the car. "I'll tidy it up later," being all that she said.
Okay then. “Do we know how long it is until ‘later’ happens? It would suck if we burnt our only bridge in this place by failing to cover our tracks and getting Jaak dragged over the coals for letting this happen.”

Hopefully that was polite enough. Because he really shouldn’t be making any more enemies today. Odette was enough of a pain in the ass on her own, thanks very much.

“I can’t actually see or move around enough to become able to see what’s happening, so you can ignore me if I’m worrying about nothing.

Um. Also. On the subject of me not being able to see or move for shit… Wes. My partner in crime. If you wouldn’t mind nicking something on my behalf, that’d be swell. I don’t care much about what it is, just that if I don’t have anything it’d probably be easy to mistake the helmet for some kind of creepy brutalist fashion statement. I guess maybe nothing too stuffy, though? I tried politicking enough already, clearly years out of practice and pretty shit at it, so I probably ought to just relapse to being a hellion or whatever.”
 
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Several members of the gang wasted no time in rifling through the clothes and finding various outfits and accessories that appealed to their tastes. Wes had to admit he was mildly surprised at the sheer lack of remorse these people had about straight up robbery. Sure, he wasn’t about to feel bad either, but he’d kind of assumed he was an exception to that rule. Apparently he wasn’t.

Um. Also. On the subject of me not being able to see or move for shit… Wes. My partner in crime. If you wouldn’t mind nicking something on my behalf, that’d be swell. I don’t care much about what it is, just that if I don’t have anything it’d probably be easy to mistake the helmet for some kind of creepy brutalist fashion statement. I guess maybe nothing too stuffy, though.? I tried politicking enough already, clearly years out of practice and pretty shit at it, so I probably ought to just relapse to being a hellion or whatever.”

Wes gave an amused snort. “Well, I’m probably the last person to ask about fashion advice, but I do know a thing or two about being a hellion.” He glanced at Gladion’s helmet. That thing looked horrendously uncomfortable, and he wasn’t the least bit surprised to learn he couldn’t see very well out of it.

“Sure. I’ll grab you something. And stuff for me, too, I guess.” Not that he was thrilled with the idea—seriously, why the hell did they need clothes? He had a whole coat of fur already, dammit.

He hobbled over to the now picked over pile and half-heartedly rummaged through it with a paw. A hat here, a vest there, some boots…ugh. He hated all of it. What the hell was he supposed to wear as a dog, anyway? He lamented the fact that a good old-fashioned trench coat simply wasn’t an option in this stupid body.

He spotted a red and black bandana and pulled it out of the pile. That would be suitable for Gladion, at least. Then he spotted a strip of black leather, and after taking a closer look, an idea clicked in his head. It took some finagling, but he managed to tenderly wriggle his foreleg through it and he used his teeth to tighten the straps. Then he tested his weight on it.

Nice. His injured leg still protested at too much movement, but he felt a fair bit more supported with the gauntlet strapped around it as a sort of makeshift brace. And it didn’t look half-bad, if he did say so himself. I’m a genius.

Pleased with his functional accessory, Wes picked up Gladion’s new bandana and was about to turn away when one more thing caught his eye: a pair of goggles. He didn’t need them, really, not without his motorcycle—gods, he already missed that hunk of metal, too. But something about them called to him, as if by wearing them he could still hold on to some part of his identity from the other world.

What a strange thought. He’d never thought he cared about his identity in Orre—the opposite, really—but here he was. With a huff, he snapped up the goggles, too, and returned to Gladion.

“Well…here. Hope this suits your fancy. They were fresh out of biker jackets and gang hoodies, so this’ll have to do. Seems to scream ‘hellion’ enough to me.”

He added the last part with a slight grin.
 
“Well…here. Hope this suits your fancy. They were fresh out of biker jackets and gang hoodies, so this’ll have to do. Seems to scream ‘hellion’ enough to me.”

He added the last part with a slight grin.
Gladion held the fabric up to his face. Red and black. Was it luck, or was he simply that predicable?

He laughed. "Good call. Knew you could be trusted with that kind of power. Thanks."

Now I just have to get this on... somehow.
 
“Do we know how long it is until ‘later’ happens? It would suck if we burnt our only bridge in this place by failing to cover our tracks and getting Jaak dragged over the coals for letting this happen.”
Bellatrix turned her nose upwards. "When you've picked out something to wear and when you're all certain of it, but if you need help with that bandanna, I can be of assistance," she said, trotting towards the large chimera to fix the cloth around his neck.


They continued for a while, the rest of the ride being uneventful. Perhaps there was some small talk here or there, a bit of theorising about where the others might've been but nothing truly concrete could be settled on. There was still much left unknown.

The screeching of wheels, the great exhale of the steam engine, and the slowing of the van signalled the journey's end, and soon, everything went still again. It was also now when the group would've realised that everything was spotlessly clean, as if the group of six hadn't even looked at the cases full of clothing. It seemed that Bellatrix was just as thorough with putting everything back in their rightful place as she was with strewing them all over the floor... was she using illusions to make the action look instant?

"End of the line!" Jaak's voice rang out. "You fellas are gonna need to make the rest of the way by foot - so you'll still have a couple odd hours left of travel - hope you rested well enough!" In a more regretful tone he added, "This is also where we'll have to part ways since I'm going need to unload the cargo and take this bucket of bolts all the way back to Blaguarro."

The side of the car opened to a sky deep into sunset and Jaak's smiling face, he was holding a lit oil lantern in his claws. "Make sure you don't run into any bandits or aggressive wilds out there. Things are dangerous, especially after dark, but I get the feeling you lot will be fine." He spun around and pointed out into the distance. "If you keep walking straight in that direction, you'll eventually reach Frontier Town. Take this lantern so you can see where you're going. I have a spare lying around so don't worry about me. Anyway! Best take advantage of that last shred of light and get going! I'm sure we'll meet again!"

And so the unlikely team, brought together by sheer circumstance, were left to begin the next leg of their journey. Indeed, it was far, far from over - it had only just begun - and only time could tell what this strange, new world had in store for them.

 
Ch02: The Night Watch
A manibuzz eyed the small group of pokemon that approached the whichever tower the group picked at the last light of sunset. With an approving nod, the vulture flicked on the light of the tower, dimly illuminating the area around them. It seemed that Anite's word had gotten out quickly. "Other tower's already been lit," she said. "Don't think it matters much given that I don't see any wings on ya, but that's protocol. Best of luck."

She flew off, leaving the group of three pokémon alone. It was quiet and desolate, a wind caused the tower to sway with a rickety creak. However, the light provided plenty of warmth, perhaps a little too much and there was ample hiding place from any curious onlooker from below. So long as they did nothing to draw attention to themselves, they would go unnoticed.

Just what would they see?
 
Odette had ultimately decided that sticking with her initial hunch--going on the night watch--was the best bet. She would just hope and pray that everyone else came back with ample information, and didn't do anything to fuck it up.

She leaned on the barrier of their perch, eyes scanning the dark horizon as she fiddled with the key to Jawile's lock between her fingers. She couldn't say she was entirely upset by the company she had (Isidora hadn't shown, thank gods; she couldn't handle any excess glaring while she was trying to stay alert), but she still couldn't shake the feeling that they were about to have a very long night.

"So Ridley," she said, trying to do something to combat the tense silence that swelled between the trio. Her eyes didn't move off the darkness before them. "You've seen one of these cryptid things already. What should I be looking for?"
 
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a wind caused the tower to sway with a rickety creak.

Well, it sure was a good thing Ridley didn't suffer from vertigo. Disconcerting though the sensation of the tower swaying beneath him was, he didn't find it particularly distressing. If the thing was liable to fall down it likely would have done so already.

The light from the tower bothered him, though. One of the benefits of being a ghost-type was that it came with fantastic night-vision, but the tower's light, however dim, limited Ridley's ability to see beyond its circle of illumination. Even as a human he'd spent plenty of time staking out places at night, and he'd developed a deep loathing for the way light sources screwed over his night vision. There could be anything out there in the darkness where the light didn't reach.

The last time he'd been out at night like this...

But there was no reason to be worried. That situation wouldn't happen again. Even if they did spot something - and there was no certainty they would - their duty was only to warn people, not to confront whatever might approach.

The enthusiasm he'd had in daylight for a potential second Witching Beast sighting was a lot more difficult to reignite in darkness.

"So Ridley," she said, trying to do something to combat the tense silence that swelled between the trio. Her eyes didn't move off the darkness before them. "You've seen one of these cryptid things already. What should I be looking for?"

"I'm not sure," Ridley admitted, shamefully grateful for the question. Anything was better than feeling his brain rattling nervously around in his skull. "I only saw the one of them, so I don't know how far to generalise. It was a charmeleon, and it looked... almost normal, except that its tail-flame didn't light anything up. It was burning, but there was no light."
 
Odette nodded along with the explanation. "Fire burning with no light?" she repeated. On a charmeleon, no less. It sounded rather ghostly, though she couldn't think of any ghost Pokemon (at least from her world) that let off flame that didn't produce light. Even Ange's flame always exuded a spooky purple brightness.

"Sounds like a negative," she said, half-jokingly. "Or some mirror-world doppelganger horse shit." The sample size was criminally low, but it was hard not to hypothesize.

"Okay, that's looks, though. What exactly..." she paused, as if hesitating. She knew some of the group members had gotten hurt, so she wasn't quite sure if she should even ask. But, info was info. "...what exactly did it do? If anything was even that noteworthy."
 
" What exactly..." [...] "...what exactly did it do? If anything was even that noteworthy."

"It fucked us up," Ridley said, and shrugged. "It... I've never seen anything act like that before. I don't know whether it was a wild pokemon or a person. Where I come from, wild pokemon don't - they don't act like that. If they attack it's about territory or defence, not... but it was like it wanted to hurt us. It... it felt sadistic."

He didn't know how to explain the terror he'd felt. There'd been the initial thrill of meeting a creature from the stories he'd been hearing, the sort of encounter he'd been dreaming of his whole life, and then...

Pain. The memory of claws tearing into him, shredding fabric and flesh. Despite the warmth from the light Ridley found himself shivering, hugging the patchworked fabric of his disguise closer to his body.

"It was strong. It hurt all of us very badly. But I still don't know whether it was a person, whether it was something we could have communicated with."

He still wanted to try talking to one. Up here on this tower, maybe they'd have a chance before it -

Ridley shook himself, and continued: "Nothing we tried touched it at all. It was like we were entirely powerless. And afterwards... Koa and I had nightmares, something like a second Voice which told us we didn't belong here. Andre says he doesn't remember anything like that, but he was also the one who had least contact with the thing. I haven't checked with the other three yet, but..."

He wasn't sure whether he was more unsettled by the idea that the shadow pokemon might have implanted strange dreams in the minds of those who'd encountered it, or whether he and Koa had coincidentally experienced the exact same dream for no reason.
 
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