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Frontier Town Industrial Park

Reader mode
Astrid leaned her weight side-to-side before finally shaking her head. "Never seen your species, no. And I don't know that word. 'Ah-loh-lahn'. Guessing that's an analogue for 'Ice' Vulpix? The Fires are much more common where I'm from... mm. Especially the last few years."

She bit her lip. "...Hey, so. What's your world even like? Is it, I mean--do you like it there? How would you describe your slice of it?"
 
"Well, I come from a place called Alola, which is where the only stable colony of ice-type Vulpixes is," Gladion laughed. "Hence the name. Which is odd, in that it's a pretty warm part of the planet for the most part, just not in the mountaintops they live on. The combination of that with the fact Alola's a bunch of islands is probably a part of what's limited their natural range so much..."

Gladion took a deep breath, a bit nervous about how this would come across but deciding to go for it anyways. He was going to end up talking about it to other people at some point. Made sense to test the waters of how people'd feel about it with someone he was already talking about weird shit with. "And the species here are all more... I guess 'human-like' wouldn't meant much to you, but every species seems to have at least some members with similar intelligence levels to us. There's a lot more variability in the mental abilities of most species back home, and much lower on average. A lot less variable, too. Ninetales are, perhaps fittingly, one of the likely claimants to human-level intelligence but they're still incredibly different in what that looks like. They don't use language like you do, and there's no other species alive back home that'd build a town as thouroughly artificial as this. Interactions between our species are fraught with either party's inability to communicate with the other, barring cases of Vulpixes who were taken in by or trained with humans. And even in those case you'd never get anything like this conversation."

He sighed. "I'm getting off topic. Forgive me, it's a... subject of particular interest to me, and I didn't want to explain it poorly either. Would probably come across as a pretty condescending. Um. Alola's fine. A lot nicer of a place than this. I'm kind of on the periphery of it, but my life's fine. Not really much to it, but I've got someone who keeps me going."
 
"Huh... tiers of intellect, it sounds like." Astrid rubbed the fluff on her head subconsciously. "I actually grew up in a colony like what you're describing, kind of! We had basic language, but it was crude, and we were so detached from the world, and... and I dunno. I guess you could've considered us on a 'lower tier' compared to communities with more infrastructure and more sensible politics. All I ever knew about life was, you know, being part of the pack in our own little corner of the world. And one day, when I was practically almost an adult, I left and learned about the ocean, books, electricity, physics. Learned the world wasn't just one archapelago..."

She almost apologized for rambling, but realized Gladion had just done the same even though she'd been attached to every word. So she stopped herself to avoid an endless game of toe-stepping and let out a chuckle instead. It felt good to spill like this.

"It took me a while to learn how to be part of that new world. But I did. Maybe 'tier' isn't the way descriptor since it seems more like... a spectrum, y'know? Your world sounds like more of a binary. But there's still disparity in both--hey, see what I mean, same template, different rules." She threw a paw up in mock amazement. "Ahah, and now we're here in this giant melting pot of experiences. I think my brain is gonna explode."
 
That was interesting. He wasn't sure how different it was from this world— it was hard to tell when everything seemed to presuppose that everyone would know. He’d read that Gazette issue, and the way the Escarpa clan was described sounded almost like that in some ways… but he wasn’t sure he trusted the Gazette either, the article felt off, like it was describing a clan than a group of… okay, it reminded him of conservative press coverage of Skull but he was pretty sure he was projecting that.

"Think my brain’s already exploded… In all seriousness, though, tiers is actually a good way to put it. They literally divide them into ‘categories’ back home. It’s… complicated, really. Only the lower ones hold any kind of legitimate classification weight to them, the top third is mostly for scientists to bicker about whether or not it’s even possible to define those categories at all."

The nerves of talking about what felt like it would be a touchy subject were melting away. It was hard not to find Astrid’s earnest interest endearing. Her journey sounded like an interesting one, too.

“And here, even those lines melt away. If there’s one thing I’ve noticed here, there seems to be less… conformity, or some other word like that. I guess having so many different species with different needs does that to a community. Journeys like yours probably wouldn’t be possible in my world. I mean, I’m not going to tell you yours was easy back home either, but…”

He sighed. “I’m talking myself in circles. Brain really has started melting, maybe.”

Actually… Did I always talk like this, or did… Nope, that’s going on the box of all the things not to think about.
 
“Reminds me of a continent in my world, kinda,” Astrid said. “Desert. Abundance of resources deep within like there clearly are here, so it attracted people from all over. It became a melting pot in its own way with the kind of people settling down temporarily and long-term, but… mm. It was so huge, and lacked infrastructure like Frontier Town save for one settlement by the ocean.” She gestured around them. “Maybe this is what more of it could’ve been if it all hadn’t been turned to glass.”

Astrid forced a giggle and then swallowed, sobering right back up. “Um. Bad joke, long story. You mind telling me about these ‘scientists’? I’m… I guess I’m more interested in your world’s history than its cutting-edge technology, but I’d drive everyone mad if I went around asking for summaries. So this feels like a compromise, I think?”
 
“I mean, the history of my world is probably more interesting than some people’s petty squabbles about what the meaning of intelligence is and how—”

Gladion’s brain caught up to him. “Hold on, I’m sorry, to fucking glass? Is that rhetorical? There’s no way anything I could say about my world with more interesting then a desert getting scorched to glass, literal or rhetorical as that may be.”
 
"Yep," Astrid said. "I guess I'm... well. I'm as desensitized to it as you can reasonably be. But the short of it is that much of my world got torched by the sun, and that particular continent got hit the worst. It's..."

With a deep sigh, Astrid leaned against a haphazardly discarded steel beam. "I wanted to keep it a secret at first. But then I get to talking to folks like you, and I hear whispers of all this craziness in everyone else's universes and... suddenly mine doesn't seem so bizarre or tragic. It's kinda nice honestly." Though the look on her face didn't seem to agree.
 
Gladion tried to nod, only to be swiftly reminded his neck was not free to move properly.

"I see what you mean," he said, not picking up on the meaning of Astrid's expression, unaccustomed as he was to seeing such emotions on inhuman faces like hers. "I can't say I don't have any of my won I'm holding close to my chest. I'll keep your thoughts between us, if it's any comfort."

This was essentially the end of the conversation, though it would take a bit before they officially recognized that fact and parted. Gladion, for one, felt the better for having aired those thoughts, and he hoped Astrid felt the same.


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Ch02: Feathered Fellas, But Not Birds [Nova & Silver]
  • Threadmarks
    • The past few days had been nothing more than a stream of events blurring together. Between the disastrous aftermath of the wagon and the new plan to check out the distant Blaguarro, the team of multiversal misfits had plenty to do and stuff to sort through.

    Silver had been checking things out from the sidelines, not wanting to end in the middle of the crossfire between the reckless heroes and the critical who-stayed-home. He didn’t really have a Ponyta in that race, anyway, and he could see the reasoning of both sides. So, neutrality be it.

    But there was one matter that bothered him more than the new fracture inside the team, and that was the deal with Shadow Pokémon.

    Were they artificial? Were they natural? If they were artificial, then were those human supremacists responsible? Could some of those humans be members of Team Rocket? Team Cyber? Some other criminal syndicate?

    “What a pain in the butt…” mumbled Silver to himself, annoyed by the lack of answers and organization, and shook his head. “Hmph! Just why can’t some humans mind their own business and must mess up with other worlds? Stupid idiots with their stupid inflated ego…”

    It was only when he stopped pondering for half a second that he realized he had reached the industrial park. He blinked, then checked out his surroundings. Not exactly the greenest place to meditate or find some mental peace, but the sight of hardworking ‘mons had its own charm.

    “…At least they’re doing something constructive!”

    So, he dismissed the troubles of the team for the time being and watched absentmindedly the ongoing work, his ear and eyes focused on the various random sounds and movements.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Nova wasn't usually at this particular part of town, but sometimes work required bringing things to and from the place. And he was the best equipped 'mon to load up a bunch of supplies into a cart that he could pull by wearing a harness. Which was exactly what Nova was getting ready to do. He'd loaded everything asked for in the cart. Hopefully, no one at the railyard had forgotten to mention something. It wasn't like Forlas had phones.

    The null managed to slip the harness around his torso. Nova began to walk out from the place when he spotted a sneasel standing there watching the place. A very strange sight to have deja vu over. But it was there. What was Ni— no, wait, there were other sneasel in the group. This wasn't Nip. One of the sneasel whose names he hadn't gotten.

    "You know I hear if you stare at this place long enough, a demon crawls out of the ground and drags you into the abyss," Nova said. With his mask muffling his tone, it was hard to tell how serious he was.
     
    Ambyssin said:
    "You know I hear if you stare at this place long enough, a demon crawls out of the ground and drags you into the abyss," Nova said. With his mask muffling his tone, it was hard to tell how serious he was.
    Click to expand...

    The statement brought Silver out of his construction-based merriment. His head feather flicked in surprise and he turned to the chimera, an eyebrow raised.

    That was such a strange thing to say as a conversation starter. Was that chimera trying to spook him with some random yōkai story?

    Well, whatever! He was no coward, and he was afraid of no random entity!

    “Oh, is that so?” asked Silver, before flashing a defiant smirk and waving a paw. “Heh! I really wanna see it try! These claws aren’t for show, y’know!”

    He gazed swiftly at the cart tied to the chimera, then looked up once more. It was hard to see the other ‘mon in the eyes, which made gauging reactions a tad harder. “So, I guess you work here or something?” He narrowed his eyes. “Hm… You’re, huh, Glados? Sorry, in the frenzy of that battle at the gala, my mind wasn’t really into name-recording.”
     
    Oh, so Nova wasn't the only one with mistaken identity. "No, Gladion's the other guy. I'm Nova." He paused. "The one who's always looked like this."
     
    Ah, that was some interesting information. So, the other chimera was some guy named Gladion — a name that piqued his interest, for some reason — while Nova was born like that. Something to keep in mind.

    “Hm, I see.” Silver nodded. “And I’m Silver.” His tone lowered to a whisper. “The one Sneasel who isn’t a born Sneasel.”

    He crossed his arms and his tone resumed its normal volume. “If you don’t mind me asking, what kinda species are you? And is that a common species on your world?”
     
    Oh, boy, this again. Nova sighed. "Officially? Don't have a species name. I was built. Just like all the other units I was in charge of."
     
    ‘Built? Artificial? Like… a Porygon?’ Silver mused, his head tilted and his tail shaking a little. ‘Though, now that I pay better attention to his physique… Did I see something like that before? That tail, in particular… it just…’

    Brown body. Yellow feathers. A fan-like tail. Unknown, a missing entity, out of his world. Something with a great power that could rival a god. The kind of power she sought.

    “…That explains a few things,” Silver muttered at last, dismissing his memories for the time being. “Hm, sorry for bringing that up. That’s probably not some topic you like to talk about or are proud of.” He flashed a tiny smile. “If it helps, though, I’m not one to judge folks’ backstories and stuff. You seem a cool guy, and that’s more than enough for me.”
     
    "It's fine." Nova shifted his weight a bit to loosen the harness, since it didn't seem like he was going anywhere in the next few minutes. He silently disputed the "cool guy," since it was clear to him the things he told other people were far from cool. Guess Silver hadn't heard. "Just means you won't have to worry about any human supremacists winning me over. Since I know what the worst of their ambitions can do."
     
    Silver’s smile fell, leaving only a frown in its place.

    “Hmph! You tell me about that! I’ve got my own share with many megalomaniac idiots who don’t know when they should stop with their nonsense!” he harrumphed, before shaking his head vigorously. “And yeah, this world is plagued with some of ‘em, too. Kinda seems like jerkassery is part of a human genetical code. Or at least, I’m not surprised that many ‘mons think that.”

    He sighed somberly. “I mean… I kinda was one of ‘em, too. An idiotic jerk. And I’m not proud of that at all! But now, well, I can say to have learned the lesson the hard way and I’m on my way to become a decent human, at least.”
     
    Silver chuckled, still remembering the thrill of the various sparring sessions and the fight at the gala.

    “Ha! Yeah, I guess so! This body isn’t exactly durable, but hey! At least I can be kept on the right track with a good slap, which means I’ll need to be more careful picking the fights worth fighting for.” He shrugged. “The curse of being a speedy but fragile species.”

    But even if he ended up biting the dust more than he liked… Man, he definitely enjoyed unleashing his adrenaline and stress on folks who deserved it, rather than lashing out at people who only wished the best for him!

    “And I’d say other humans should need some good slapping, once in a while.” He looked upwards and scratched his chin, recalling a specific group of humans in particular. “Like that bunch of idiots who thought could infiltrate some high security place with a plan held together by spit. You’ve heard about the wagon fiasco, right?”
     
    "Hmm?" Nova blinked. "Oh, right. Those guys." He shrugged his shoulders. "All humans that went there. Either a dumb coincidence or some of you got cocky after what happened at the manor."

    Never mind that at least a couple of the group members actually had some equivalent of military experience and could have drilled it into their heads how woefully bad of an idea it was.
     
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