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Frontier Town Nina's Place

Felin clinked her glass of hard milk with Sonora's. If the bombshell reveal that she was an outlaw shocked Felin, it didn't show on her face. She maintained her easy going smile and lapped at her freshly served drink. After spending a moment to savor the taste, she reclined on her wobbly chair and brushed her chin.

"Having a mayor breathing down your neck doesn't suit my style either," she said, grinning. A curious thought floated in her mind. Was Sonora testing them by revealing that? She couldn't help but wonder. "Gotta say, you've lucked out. Would've been a shame if your line of work barred you from certain privileges, such as this bar, y'know?"

If Nina had no trouble with Sonora's presence, then whatever she was wanted for must've not been of the vile sort. Even outlaws came in different colors after all.
 
Isidora blinked at the brandy. How much does she think I weigh? It was hard to say, but from her attitude Sonora might genuinely have misjudged her. It'd be rude not to give it a sip, at least.

"Right, where were we? Ah, yeah – pleasure to meet y'all, Ms Mystery Mawile, Sneasel Isidora, 'Cleffa' Ridley, and Sprigatito Felin-Boots~ Some one or two of ya were askin' after my nature, huh? Well, I'm no nomad as such – bit of a loaded word 'round these parts, an' I sure ain't no clanner, jus' look at me! – but I am a drifter after a fashion. S'what happens when y'start t'get wanted posters with yer name on 'em!"
She slowly moved her bag onto her lap. My gut wasn't that far off. That was quite the risk though, to reveal that so brazenly. She really must've wanted to know their story. Isidora took a glance around the table. Not yet.

"We're not the type to cause trouble," -- I would hope -- "but I appreciate the tip," she replied. "So what got the bounty on you, if you don't mind me askin'?" If Sonora was deciding to trust them, then they needed to get a bit more friendly first. They could worry about sidestepping that curiosity once they got there.
 
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She gave Odette a shrug, and mimed 'you're breaking my heart!' above her chest.
Odette raised a brow, flexing her lips into something of a perplexed frown. Nonetheless, she stifled a snicker.

“Cute,” she said. “Your whiskers really helped sell that.”
Ms Mystery Mawile,
Ugh, that sounded awful. Like some weird fucking vigilante-masked-wrestler-in-spandex shit. She raised her hand.

“Odette. Just Odette,” she corrected.

Well, I'm no nomad as such – bit of a loaded word 'round these parts, an' I sure ain't no clanner, jus' look at me! – but I am a drifter after a fashion. S'what happens when y'start t'get wanted posters with yer name on 'em!"

She gave her table-mates a wink and chuckled to herself, as if she'd just made a witty pun.

"If y'all ever end up with your names on the bounty bulletins, don't be afeared – Nina's Place'll still serve ya, and not tell Mayor Ignatius' flat-pawed deputies you were seen here."
Odette was looking and she could confidently say she didn’t know what the difference between a “nomad” and a “clanner” was around these parts. Something she might have to look more into the next time she idled in the library. Still, ears perked at the mention of “wanted posters,” and she finished off the rest of her tea. So, her hunch had been right, they were talking to some sort of lawbreaker here. What the stretch of that breaking was still remained to be seen, but she supposed there was some merit to the fact that Sonora was so ready to throw out that info. So, probably not a hobbyist serial killer of any sort.

But, apparently Nina served you regardless of your status as a felon. She cut her eyes around the immediate area, just for good measure before sighing quietly to herself. As long as nobody fucked with her, she had no grounds to fuck with anybody back.

Isidora took a glance around the table. Not yet.
Obviously this Sonora wanted to know more about their date with the weird cloud, which had to have been why she was so ready to disclose her past like she was. But, Odette was prepared to maintain her stance in that she wanted to lay low. No information would be coming out of her unless she had rightful reason to offer it.

Her eyes ended up meeting Isidora’s, and she could see the look in the sneasel’s eyes. They were on the same page here. The nod she sent her was inconspicuous, but she hoped she’d catch it nonetheless.

“Face on some wanted posters, huh? Did they get your nose right on the print?”

She didn’t expect the joke to land, but she had to ask.
 
Sonora chuckled, and framed her own face with her paws.

"Could a wanted sketch artist capture this handsome visage? 'Course not!"

She took a longer drink of her brandy. Quite a bit longer. Then for the first time, the Floragato actually looked serious.

"Burglary," she said, putting the glass down. "And breakin' and enterin', everythin' else they could think of to pad out the charges. 'Course, these days I'm fetchin' higher bounties on account of havin' no other recourse but to double down. But it started with five dollars and twenty-five cents."

Then the bold grin returned.

"Good thing a highwaymon's money spends just as well as the taxmon's coin, eh?"

Sonora gestured with her brandy.

"So, Mawile Odette, how has my lovely hometown been treatin' your fine group? I do hope the birds haven't been givin' you grief."
 
"Burglary," she said, putting the glass down. "And breakin' and enterin', everythin' else they could think of to pad out the charges. 'Course, these days I'm fetchin' higher bounties on account of havin' no other recourse but to double down. But it started with five dollars and twenty-five cents."

Felin's grin went even wider and she held back a chuckle. "It's as they say. Aim for the skies and see how far you go."

She was aware how it might look to others for her to be encouraging an outlaw to double down even further, but she didn't care. As a felin, the instinct to hunt hardwired into her flesh and bone before the first crack on her egg shell. Even so, she didn't stare at Sonora with the predatory eyes. Felin chased a different kind of hunt. The hunt for glory.

Maybe a day would come when Sonora is feared and revered across the lands for daring to swipe the crown off the head of a king, and a bounty in the hundreds of thousands to her name. Would she not then be the greatest prize for Felin Boots to hunt? The thought made her purr under her breath and she silently rooted for the floragato. She snapped out of her daydream and took another swig of milk.

"So, Mawile Odette, how has my lovely hometown been treatin' your fine group? I do hope the birds haven't been givin' you grief."

"We've been getting along quite well enough I'd say," Felin answered, leaning forward. "As of the moment at least. Who knows what the future holds."
 
"Could a wanted sketch artist capture this handsome visage? 'Course not!"
“I don’t know shit about art, but I’m sure if they drew you as pretty as you are in person other ‘mon would be less inclined to hunt you down,” she said as she traced the rim of her empty tea cup with her nail.

"Burglary," she said, putting the glass down. "And breakin' and enterin', everythin' else they could think of to pad out the charges. 'Course, these days I'm fetchin' higher bounties on account of havin' no other recourse but to double down. But it started with five dollars and twenty-five cents."
If you’re committing burglary on somebody else’s property, is it not breaking and entering?

There was no point in arguing with the self-proclaimed robber though. While she wasn’t entirely keen to be having the conversation, she would admit that the conversation wasn’t as volatile as she had led herself to believe it would be. If she could help it, she was looking to keep it that way.

“Well, you know what they say. Higher demand, higher price,” she smirked. “Some just love their pricier commodities.”

"So, Mawile Odette, how has my lovely hometown been treatin' your fine group? I do hope the birds haven't been givin' you grief."
She quirked a brow when she was directly mentioned, but she let it roll and settled back into her seat.

“It’s hot,” she said flatly. “And gods, your wealthy are fucking stingy. But you all do know how to steep your tea, and I’ll give the fashion credit where it’s due.” She shrugged carelessly. “As for the birds, can’t say I’ve paid them much mind. Why, are you trying to tell me they’re government spies or something?” she added sarcastically.
 
Sonora tipped her glass to Felin, grinned wider at the 'pretty' comment, and actually snorted when Odette mentioned the wealthy being stingy. She recovered fast by hiding her expression in a sip of brandy, but there was the hint of an ironical smirk to her expression, like she was barely keeping a thought quiet.

"The birds are the government," she said with a chuckle, replying to Odette's question. "By birds, I mean Empoleon Ignatius – the mayor – and Prinplup Lucien, the marshal. They're the ones puttin' the latest bounties out on my ass, and they're the ones who'll be nailin' your fine faces to the boards if you cross the town council." She sniffed, and swilled her brandy. "Well, Ignatius will. His kid's just the pen-pusher."

The Floragato took another swig and put her drink down to gesture at the party.

"But c'mon now, y'all've got me at a disadvantage! Why don'tcha tell me a li'l more 'bout yerselves, since I've been so forthcomin'?"
 
"Burglary," she said, putting the glass down. "And breakin' and enterin', everythin' else they could think of to pad out the charges. 'Course, these days I'm fetchin' higher bounties on account of havin' no other recourse but to double down. But it started with five dollars and twenty-five cents."
With her level of confidence, Isidora had thought she was more put together than that. Sure, she was still at large, but she wasn't exactly a phantom thief. Guess I misjudged her. Though maybe I shouldn't be judging strangers off their ability to get away with stealing shit, she thought, running a claw across the stitching of her stolen bag.

"So, Mawile Odette, how has my lovely hometown been treatin' your fine group? I do hope the birds haven't been givin' you grief."
"Don't think anything here is meaner than the heat, but I guess I'm biased." This town is still run by empoleon though, huh. Where she was from, you'd only hear a turn of phrase like that in Prestin. And Fodric had its own empoleon, but that was a whole scandal and still no one liked him. Truthfully, the girafarig barkeep was still weirding her out. She felt kinda bad about it. Part of her was glad this world could be a bit more equal, but the same part thought, who the hell are you, to pity 'mon not like you? And then the other part was just bitter.

"But c'mon now, y'all've got me at a disadvantage! Why don'tcha tell me a li'l more 'bout yerselves, since I've been so forthcomin'?"
Sidestep it, turn the subject around... A few things clicked together in her head, and her feathered ear flicked as an idea came to her. Isidora tipped her hat and began. "We're pretty much just travelers. We've been looking into Mystery Dungeons." She nonchalantly shrugged. "Guess you could say we're part of the effort to figure 'em out, though we're not doin' it for anyone but ourselves."

It felt good to put together some of the information she got to make an at least halfway decent cover story. Hopefully the others agree.
 
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Sidestep it, turn the subject around... A few things clicked together in her head, and her feathered ear flicked as an idea came to her. Isidora tipped her hat and began. "We're pretty much just travelers. We've been looking into Mystery Dungeons." She nonchalantly shrugged. "Guess you could say we're part of the effort to figure 'em out, though we're not doin' it for anyone but ourselves."

"It's just as she said," Felin corroborated. She swirled the milk in her cup, watching its colors mix and grow uniform. "Our lot got roped into a bit of a dungeon mishap."

A small laugh escaped her lips. "Don't ask how we wound up in it. Our memories got flunked up by it and none of us can seem to remember what led to it. Now we just have ourselves for company, mon from all corners of life banded together."

She smirked at Sonora. "A bit romantic, is it not?
 
"Our lot got roped into a bit of a dungeon mishap." [...] "Don't ask how we wound up in it. Our memories got flunked up by it and none of us can seem to remember what led to it. Now we just have ourselves for company, mon from all corners of life banded together."

Was that the cover story they were going with? Sure, why not; Ridley could roll with that. "We're pretty much sticking together because we're all dealing with the same problem," he said. "There's a lot we don't know about our situation, but pooling our knowledge helps us all to figure it out quicker. And it's nice to have people around who know what you're going through, you know?"

Ridley considered the cheri brandy Sonora had ordered for him and took a cautious sip. He continued, "So, have you heard any interesting stories about the mystery dungeons?"
 
"The birds are the government," she said with a chuckle, replying to Odette's question. "By birds, I mean Empoleon Ignatius – the mayor – and Prinplup Lucien, the marshal. They're the ones puttin' the latest bounties out on my ass, and they're the ones who'll be nailin' your fine faces to the boards if you cross the town council." She sniffed, and swilled her brandy. "Well, Ignatius will. His kid's just the pen-pusher."
Ignatius. Lucien. Yeah, those were definitely names of a father-son duo on top of everything here. Obnoxiously pretentious sounding and rather grandiose compared to other names she’d heard. Something about it made her squint.

“Cross the town council? Don’t threaten me with a good time,” she sneered. With a scoff, she shook her hear. “I feel like there’s enough probable shit happening here so I’m not keen on adding that of a couple pompous birds to that pile. The warning’s appreciated, though.”

"But c'mon now, y'all've got me at a disadvantage! Why don'tcha tell me a li'l more 'bout yerselves, since I've been so forthcomin'?"
“There’s not much to tell,” she said. As she spoke, she waved down Nina for another round of tea. “I’m about the closest thing you can get to a clown. I sing, I dance, I do tricks sometimes, I might know how to read. Nothing all that spectacular.”

She let the others do the talking in terms of the group itself, and was left to nod along in agreement. When Nina came back around with her next spot of tea, she took a moment to tend to stirring it up.

“I know you’ve already graced us with your life story, but if you’re brimming with any additional advice on this dungeon stuff, or anything we should be on the look out for, it’d be a bit of a blessing on us.” She stuck out her lower lip for added effect. “Pretty please.”
 
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Sonora smiled to herself and downed a little more brandy. She laughed at Felin's 'romantic' remark, at Odette's self-deprecations – "You'll have to give me one of them clown-shows sometime!" – and at her pouting, enough that she seemed to be genuinely enjoying herself. Not that she'd been perturbed by the higher tension from before.

"Thirty-odd waylaid dungeon investigators, askin' me 'bout them selfsame dungeons? Why, how odd! But sure, I can fill ya in a li'l."

She leaned forward and popped her hat brim before making a conspiratorial gesture at her mouth with one paw.

"Prospectors from the cities out east are comin' to the Soja' in droves of late, lookin' to make it rich with dungeon gold, like it's just an easier way to mine precious metals. But dungeons are dangerous, my friends. They ain't jus' loose magic rearrangin' the world's wild places. Those folks as have lived out here for generations – I'm talkin' clanners, like the Escarpa – will tell you that mystery dungeons are downright mystical. They're where the earth touches other worlds. I've heard tell the people of the far north send their shamans into 'em to commune with spirits from beyond this life, an' I believe it. I'm no superstitious gal, trust me, but you'd best be mindful that dungeons have a mind of their own."

Sonora leaned back in her chair and tipped it away from the table a little. She didn't have any trouble balancing.

"See, that's just precisely what interests me so much about your materialisation across the southern Soja' from parts unknown. I don't believe such a thing would happen without a good reason, and I'm just bare covetous to ascertain exactly why."
 
mystery dungeons are downright mystical. They're where the earth touches other worlds.

Ridley nodded thoughtfully. That fit in with what he'd learnt so far, and was a point in favour of his own tentative guess about the nature of the dungeons: that they were something similar to Galar's power spots, but which acted on the landscape rather than on pokemon, and with a dimension-warping aspect alongside the spatial one. It didn't mean he was right, of course, but if other people were coming to similar conclusions then maybe there was something to it beyond the natural instinct to interpret matters through a familiar lense.

"See, that's just precisely what interests me so much about your materialisation across the southern Soja' from parts unknown. I don't believe such a thing would happen without a good reason, and I'm just bare covetous to ascertain exactly why."

"Hey, if you've got any theories then let us know. We'd love to hear them." Ridley meant that quite genuinely; it would be fascinating and potentially useful to know what the people here thought was going on.
 
"You'll have to give me one of them clown-shows sometime!"
"Well if you can sneak your way into Sun Stone, you can catch my next show," she said half-heartedly, not thinking much of it.

"Prospectors from the cities out east are comin' to the Soja' in droves of late, lookin' to make it rich with dungeon gold, like it's just an easier way to mine precious metals. But dungeons are dangerous, my friends. They ain't jus' loose magic rearrangin' the world's wild places. Those folks as have lived out here for generations – I'm talkin' clanners, like the Escarpa – will tell you that mystery dungeons are downright mystical. They're where the earth touches other worlds. I've heard tell the people of the far north send their shamans into 'em to commune with spirits from beyond this life, an' I believe it. I'm no superstitious gal, trust me, but you'd best be mindful that dungeons have a mind of their own."
The longer Sonora spoke, the more Odette felt herself leaning in. So were mystery dungeons like another flavor of Ultra Wormholes? Maybe they didn't lead exactly into the homicidal wasteland that was Ultra Space, but they did prove to be portals to other worlds? Dimensions? Timelines? Somehow? People willingly sought them out on their own relatively sane minds just to commune with others?

She wasn't sure what warranted "superstition" or not, but the idea of speaking to others from regions beyond had always intrigued her, and had been something that was deeply studied by professors from where she was from. Hell, it was a whole branch of the occult sciences her mother had learned and subsequently relayed to her over the years. But after mingling that with the forced opening of misplaced wormholes, a demon of a woman who was off her fucking rocker, and an immeasurable amount of time traversing a hellscape inhabited by eldritch aliens (with, at the time, one of her least favorite people in the world), she was a lot less charmed by the mysticism of fraternizing with other worlds in a manner that involved portals or wormholes or, now, dungeons. If put under the jurisdiction of the wrong person, or people, there was no telling what kind of trouble that kind of conjuration could amount to.

She and Guzma had made a mutual pact that they were done with the world-jumping bullshit. She was already breaking it by being here (out of spite, of course, because fuck him), but she wasn't thrilled at the idea that these dungeons might have the capacity to take it all a step further.

Sipping from her tea, she crossed one leg over the other. "Eerie," she commented.

"See, that's just precisely what interests me so much about your materialisation across the southern Soja' from parts unknown. I don't believe such a thing would happen without a good reason, and I'm just bare covetous to ascertain exactly why."
"Your guess is as good as mine," she said. "Though, being that you're actually from here, you might have better backing knowledge for your hypothesis than I would."
 
Sonora gave a devilish look at Odette as she mentioned sneaking into Sun Stone. "Is that a challenge?" she quipped.

But then she sighed and raised her palms.

"Well, I ain't no scholar nor shaman, an' none of y'all have told me where you're even from. Not givin' me too much to work with here, are ya, angels?"

Then she chuckled again, but there was a different energy to the laugh.

"D'you know, 'angel' and 'human' are the same word in Tenacindean?"
 
"Really? That's quite interesting," Felin responded.

Being someone from a world presided only by pokemon, the word angel meant absolutely nothing to her. If anything she took it as little more than an interesting piece of trivia. It hadn't even occurred to her that Sonora might've been trying to get a reaction out of them.

"Talk of humans wasn't much common where I'm from. Didn't know they went by different names," Felin added as she swirled her drink in its cup. "Did they leave that much of an impression in... Tenacidean, you said?"
 
Sonora gave a devilish look at Odette as she mentioned sneaking into Sun Stone. "Is that a challenge?" she quipped.
Odette quirked a brow. “I want to say no, but I can’t help but be curious.”

Greasewood had been good to her thus far, so she certainly wasn’t looking to unleash chaos on his venue. But she also wasn’t going to lie and say she was intrigued on how the fuck Sonora would get in there.
"Well, I ain't no scholar nor shaman, an' none of y'all have told me where you're even from. Not givin' me too much to work with here, are ya, angels?"
Stifling a scoff at being called “angel,” she drank some more of her tea. The word left her soul prickling with a sense of discontent, one that made her want to roll her eyes. Apparently the hellspawn blood carried over into this body too.

There was a lot of speculation about who to and who not to disclose they had come from different worlds, on top of the fact to keep the whole “I was a former human” on the down low. But so far, that had gotten them a whole lot of nothing in terms of what to do about why they had been called here in the first place. Sonora was a criminal, yes, but, so far she’d seemed to know the most about fucking anything around here. That Odette knew of, of course.

The recklessness took over. Fuck it.

“I can tell you, my world is nothing like this one,” she said. “We have a little more water.” And a lot more bipeds.

"D'you know, 'angel' and 'human' are the same word in Tenacindean?"
She couldn’t help the sidelong glance she shot Sonora. That sounded like some sort of language, one she was definitely unfamiliar with, but she’d definitely gotten her point across.

I am the furthest thing you can get from an angel, she thought, the notch in her brow only growing deeper. It almost felt like a joke at this point.

“Angel has a strong positive connotation,” she said, lips hovering over her teacup. “At least…where I’m from. So I find it interesting that there’s a language that denotes it as no different than ‘human.’” She mused.

Another sip as she eyed Sonora. “Is that a parallel you agree with?”
 
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I'm no superstitious gal, trust me, but you'd best be mindful that dungeons have a mind of their own.
Everything she learned about dungeons made them sound crazier. Local legends were usually based around some hard reality, but with what she had read in the library it was difficult to say how much of this was just superstition. These dungeons are like some kinda force of nature...

Then she chuckled again, but there was a different energy to the laugh.

"D'you know, 'angel' and 'human' are the same word in Tenacindean?"
Isidora fought to keep her claws sheathed. She didn't get what was meant by 'the same word in Tenacindean' but she definitely got the implication. I take it back. She's exactly as dangerous as I thought. She took a careful sip of her sangria, hoping Sonora wouldn't see through her attempt to keep cool (after that sip of brandy she knew she couldn't afford to drink much more). "Didn't know that," she said "Curious where it came from, though. Angel's a bit of a loaded word across cultures." Shit that made me sound like a shut-in.

“Angel has a strong positive connotation,” she said, lips hovering over her teacup. “At least…where I’m from. So I find it interesting that there’s a language that denotes it as no different than ‘human.’” She mused.

Another sip as she eyed Sonora. “Is that a parallel you agree with?”
Her fur had bristled when she said world and then- Is that the right call?! Sure, Sonora didn't seem actively malicious, and if anyone had a stake in revealing their humanity, it would be Odette. She must've known what she was doing. But it was because she was human that Isidora wasn't sure how to trust her on this.

And, how am I supposed to prove that I'm not human? Am I just gonna get lumped in with her?

She dug her claws into her bag and watched Sonora with bated breath.
 
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If Sonora was surprised, she didn't let on. She only smiled with what seemed like earnest delight, eyes twinkling at the drop of that and drained the last of her brandy.

"Some kids grow up hearin' stories 'bout humans," she drawled, casual as anything. "They were 'angels' who'd appear in the world lookin' like ordinary pokémon, but who'd been sent from above to rescue folks from danger, spare the land from some catastrophe, an' all that. Always figured it were fairy-tale stuff as a kitten, meant to teach young 'uns some moral or other. ...I never heard the myths first-hand anyhow."

She leaned in, grinning wildly.

"Only, when I was a gal, I had this friend. The sheriff's daughter. An' she used to tell me how her parents'd been heroes when they were barely more'n our age, and she wanted to be just like 'em. She could fight somethin' fierce, like she were special. Whatever it was, it rubbed off on me, too – made me faster an' quieter'n other kids. Not everyone'll say this, but the whole town knows Sheriff Stranger was a human. I swear to the Saints, that Brisa gal was half-human. I dunno if it were how she was raised, or somethin' in her blood – or her soul – but she had a callin' that compelled her to protect others."

Sonora's face was hard to read. She drew back a little, and drummed her claws on the table.

"I'm done drinkin', so I'll cut to the chase. I wanna know somethin', so tell me this one thing true."

The Floragato looked each of the gathered 'mon in the eye, as if she was searching out something inside them.

"Didja really come here by accident? Or are ya here to help folks?"
 
"Didja really come here by accident? Or are ya here to help folks?"
Odette kept her teacup in hand as she listened to Sonora talk. Nothing showed on her face aside from her attentiveness to the additional backstory being thrown at her.

“The latter,” she said simply before taking another sip. She wasn’t looking to be perceived as “angelic,” but she was fully aware of the call she answered. No point in skirting around that now. “Now feel free to fully answer my other question, as a fair trade.”
 
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