Ch.4
(April 29th, 300 A.S. – 0700 – Southern District Pokécenter #2, Lindis, Azure League)
The alarm in his ‘dex went off, blaring and obnoxious noise. Matt awoke clutching something fluffy and soft. It started tickling his nose, so he cracked one eye open and saw that it was Carol’s tail. Attached to it was Carol giving him a very amused look. He reluctantly let it go (it had been rather comfy) and stretched.
“G’morning,” he said sleepily.
“Gud Morgneng.”
Samantha was apparently awake as well. She had snuggled against his side and buried her face in his shoulder after he had turned off the alarm off. He wouldn’t be able to do anything right when he was as tired as he was.
“I’m going back to sleep,” he announced, “I won’t be able to function like this.”
Carol giggled and nuzzled into his neck. “Dun’cht ment ob Aich stey hier?”
He had no idea what that was supposed to mean quite like everything else that he heard around these parts. Pretending he understood based on bits and pieces he picked up here and there was not working too well, and sooner or later he was going to foul up. So for now, he just mumbled incoherently and hugged her to him hoping to drift back to sleep.
“Dankje,” she said softly.
Was she thanking him? He could barely tell he was so exhausted. Falling asleep next to two warm was quickly becoming one of his favorite sensations.
(0900)
When Matt awoke again, he saw that Carol was already sitting up. He could tell that Samantha was still dead to the world and about to fall off the bed. The moment he stirred though, the sly Trixie was already upon him and had her tongue shoved down his throat. Matt reciprocated the moment he regained his senses. Waking up like this? Life was looking to be on the up and up.
He broke the kiss with a grin. “Morning.” Samantha giggled and gained a sly smile herself when she saw his eyes drift over to Carol’s idly stretching, oblivious form. Matt reached over and pulled her back down to the mattress and tried Sam’s greeting out on her.
Carol let out a hungry moan as they engaged one another. Matt broke a little too soon for her liking, but Samantha took Matt’s place as soon as it was available.
Matt tried to slip away, but one of the ‘girls managed to get a grip on his manhood. The sudden stimulation caused him to gasp, unsure of whether he wanted to move on or not, weighing the consequences of delaying his To Do list any further. When the girls broke apart, they both looked up to him mischievously.
Summoning all of his will power, he looked at them and said: “I have work to do.” Everyone bared disappointed expressions.
Carol Peaked at the digital clock on the ‘dex. “Mein shift start umt 9:30.”
Matt let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding having been hoping for an excuse to keep going.” Unfortunately, one word brought that all down.
Carol looked up to him and said, “Quickie?”
Fortunately or unfortunately, all of Matt’s will power had been expended earlier.
Several minutes later, Carol ran into the shower room, briefly ran the water, ran out, threw on her clothes and ran out the door only stopping to quickly blow a kiss.
Matt looked after her, wondering if he should mention that she forgot to put one her underwear… before remembering that she wasn’t wearing any when she came.
It was time for business. He turned to Samantha and turned her smiling face to him with a gentle hand on her cheek. “Sam,” he prompted with a note of seriousness, “I have work to do okay.”
She nodded when she heard the word work, but Matt had more to say.
“I’m sorry, but I need to put you in your ‘ball.” Well, he didn’t, but it was probably better than if he just left her here to her own devices. He had no idea what could happen, if she had any wandering tendencies, or even if it was legal or not for him to leave her unattended. He really was flying blind, wasn’t he?
Even with her smiling acceptance, it pained him to force her into a tiny ball until she was let out.
(April 29th, 300 A.S. – 1000 – Southern District, Lindis, Azure League)
Pre-sukebe money, as these people would call it, had to be worth something. He had used his pocket-supercomputer/dex to research the approximate value of the bills. Apparently, old European currencies weren’t too unheard of such as the Franc or Pound, but for some reason the Eurodollar was unheard of. Did the war in this world lead to it not coming into use? He didn’t know when the Euro was adopted, so he couldn’t speculate accurately.
American currency was only moderately rare- relative to other paper currencies of course- but the ones that had been collected were almost always in numerous pieces. The ones he had kept on his person since he and remnants of his home had been sucked into this crazy world were in pretty good shape, not unworn but definitely in one piece. If he could find a museum or collector he could probably get some money. His profession would require him to live off the land, but some money to get himself some essentials or maybe just a spare change of clothes would help. Of course if these were as valuable as he was hoping or even somewhere in that ballpark… he might not be so bad off for himself.
(1130)
Blast, he had been searching around for hours, and he dare not set foot in a pawn shop; they’d just rip him off especially if they thought they could make a big profit off of whatever was brought in. There was one museum in town, but their “Ancient History” section was small, limited, and not nearly funded enough that they’d tie any money up in an exhibit. Oh, they’d love it if Matt were to loan it to them to put it up on display. They’d treat anyone who had something to loan or on loan like royalty usually because they’d want you to leave whatever it was to them in a will.
Still, maybe it’d be for the best. He couldn’t sell it right now, not on such short notice. Maybe… yes that’s it! He could loan it to the museum and have them take care of it for a certain amount of time. Damn, he couldn’t hire a lawyer to look over a contract. He’d have to think this through.
(1145 - Warrior’s Ranch, Lindis East Quadrant, Azure League)
Matt was uncomfortable as he waited in the front room of the ranch. Surprisingly, there were a great number of people here. He never really thought of the market for pokégirls as being bustling save perhaps green tamers strutting in to claim their starter. Oh how his illusions had been shattered. A bored young woman, presumably some kind of pokégirl, had him take a number and sit in a waiting room.
He idly wondered if he had revealed too much to the museum when he went over there and hinted at the possibility of intact paper currency. Hopefully no one would actually assault him and try to see if there was any truth to his claims “the old fashion way.”
He peered around the room and took in the people in it. While the majority of the people waiting were men from varying walks of life, from yuppie kids to men in suits, there were a few women sprinkled around the room. He didn’t think they were pokégirls simply because they were sitting by themselves and also because everyone who already had pokégirls seemed to stuff them into their containment devices the moment they stepped inside. He didn’t know whether it was common courtesy or if it was some kind of rule no one had told him about.
The presumably human women seemed to all avoid other women for some reason. It perplexed him seeing as he had always seen women pack together in his homeland. It was another oddity of this world that confused him.
Some shuffling was heard, and a yelp of pain resounded, drawing everyone’s attention in the room. He didn’t really know what happened, but he saw a tall blonde kid looking down at a younger kid who was sprawled across the floor clutching his bleeding nose.
An older man sitting next to Matt scoffed at the sight.
“What happened?” Matt asked, “I wasn’t looking.”
The man gave him a funny look, probably because of his foreign accent. Shaking himself from his mild surprise, the man answered Matt’s question. “Da’Kidt on d’grund trew ihs foist um Blondie unt Blondie geknocht da’Kidt ins ihs ass. D’prick vars fragsken für et. E vars machken truble.”
“Dya,” another younger kid, probably 15 or 16 joined in, “Was trii’eng ta haaraass Blondie enta somtin. Ne know what.”
“Byt Ruby phalli,” said another, “Ai saatly bumped enta hem antierly. Ne wud Chut d’fick ob.”
The younger kid nudged matt with his elbow excitedly. “Vyou dink et’aall gohe alle ta challenge?”
Although he didn’t want to appear ignorant, Matt truly had no clue what was said to him, absolutely none at all. The one word that stood out the most was “challenge,” which seemed to be the same as the English world although mangled with their accents.
“What’s a challenge?” he asked. They all seemed to understand him well enough. Odd, maybe other people had kept the original English alive.
The kid looked unsurprised. “Ah, vyou’rre ne fon abound hier. Et gohes ha’ow dhis. Sehe, vhen ain prick haaraasses mann, vya kan knock ihm ins ihs tuckus so lang as vya don’ne get ta carried away. Dough, denn e kann force vyou enta challenge.”
That caused Matt to frown. He only gathered a few words out of that. If you harass someone, you can retaliate with violence? Strange, but they can then challenge you? Sounds like an old-timey duel where people defended their honor by killing one another. “I thought you couldn’t force a salvage battle in Azure,” he stated, deflecting his ignorance with… more ignorance. What a tangled web we weave…
The kid shook his head. “Nyein, Nyein. Byt ne salvage. Just ain battle. Ef d’mann challenged hab ne pokégirls, d’challenger hab to battle ihmself. By’gud way ta keep d’Law in impartent maaters raader denn squabble bullsheißt. ‘Cor ef vyou lose, denn vyou legally wasch vyourre handes ob d’maater. Also helf vhen in d’wood int dhere byt neai Lawmann ta helf mith et.”
Fuck it. He knew nothing and understood nothing. No more questions. It’s probably best to assume that people here could challenge you to some archaic duel if you pissed them off but couldn’t kill you.
“Interesting,” Matt commented idly, “Where I’m from you can get thrown in the slammer for any violence at all even when defending life or your loved ones.” Shit, he needed to keep his mouth shut. They were still looking at him.
That got him some funny looks. “Vor d’hell rara vyou fom?”
“Hwa?” Matt said, not understanding at all. He’d run out of the patience to fake any form of understanding like with Carol back at the station. Although, he’d probably been a bit more determined not to look stupid in front of women. It was a stupid impulse and probably subconscious.
“Vyou, fom wat League?” he pressed.
“Jhoto,” Matt said automatically recalling information from his rehearsed cover story.
“Ah.”
Matt noticed more strange looks directed at him. Jhoto probably had a shitty reputation in the liberal leagues considering it was infamously anti-pokegirl. “It’s a shitty place to live unless your wealthy,” he defended, not really sure why he was saying so much about something he knew so little about, “If you’re poor, piss on you. If you’re a tamer, you’re cannon fodder. If you’re middleclass, you’re clueless. If you got the balls to become a hunter, you’re under the League’s thumb for the rest of your life.”
He snorted as he thought of the one thing Jhoto was absolutely infamous for. “May God…” he flinched. Christianity was gone. What religion did they use here again? “…s of the Thousand have mercy on you if you have the even slightest ‘deformity,’” he continued, drawing air quotes around deformity, “that suggest too much pokégirl in you.” Smooooth.
Fortunately that last statement seemed to distract from his previous bullshit- although the bullshit was inspired by Jhoto based stories- and the people listening seemed to move on from the fact that he was claiming to be a Jhoto with something that resembled an upperclass accent judging by the way some of the more posh people he’d bumped into here sounded like.
“So vaiheey’d dou leaf?” the older man next to him asked sardonically.
A couple of chuckles and one barking laugh resounded. While there was a good opportunity to change the subject, Matt felt like answering the question. “I didn’t fancy being lynched,” he stated, getting into the role he was playing and the subsequent rush obtained.
“Vhat happent?” the younger kid asked.
“It’s illegal to openly discuss pro-rights politics or other subversive topics. I was busy telling someone ‘A well taken care of tool that’s been properly honed and oiled works better than a rusted and chipped one many times over.’ Not that he listened. I got the ‘You’re a fuckin’ liberal!’ treatment, and calls for my blood started. Most idiots there think that if you so much as think about treating them better than toilet paper then you’re an evil anti-League fanatic. Although, their actions pretty much turned me into one.”
“Aich fersume da’ dou tök atfantac d’ immagräschion fon Azure.”
“Took the tamer’s test,” Matt replied uneasily hoping no scrutiny would be directed his way. He heard the word immigration and wasn’t sure if he was missing any papers or something like that. Fuck, it couldn’t end hear over something so stupid.
“Ah, dasis gud vay zo skip d’ maigrant päpers.”
SAFE!
The idiot that Blondie knocked down was back up on his feet and looked like he was starting more trouble.
“Moron,” Matt said, “Looks like there will be a fight, if he’s really this stupid.”
Most of the onlookers and eaves droppers were looking on expectantly. Sure enough, the moron was raising his voice to the blonde guy. Sadly for him, it hit a rather comical octave. He couldn’t really tell what they were saying, but he figured the so-called challenge had been issued since a couple staff pokégirls were shooing them out the door, and a sizable group of people waiting for them followed after them.
Although he wouldn’t mind watching someone get pummeled for something he completely brought upon himself, he didn’t have his heart in it. His thoughts were far too preoccupied with what he had to do.
“Mista Brandt?” inquired a staff pokégirl from one of the hall doors leading off deeper into the ranch.
This surprised Matt. He hadn’t been waiting for that long. Not one to complain about a short wait, he was up on his feet and followed her through the door as she turned to lead him off.
“Vyyou’rre here für oir starta, ya?
“Er, Yes.”
“Chit.”
“What?”
“Vyourre credit chit.”
“Oh.”
Matt pulled out the chit, apparently some kind of electronic coupon thingamabob, and handed it to her. She took it from him and plugged it into a handheld device of hers. It beeped and ejected the chit.
She looked back to him. “Vyou möncht it?”
“Uh, is it good for anything?”
“Data Storage.”
“Okay then.”
It was frustrating how he understood very little but everyone basically knew what he meant. It was annoying and made no sense to him. It’s like there was some key to the map he was missing.
“Vhat pokégirls rarre vyou iintarested in?”
“Amachop.”
“Oh? Most Tamas donne geh für d’Amachops. Ne enough tits, I guess.”
Well that was… At least she said what she thought. As he was lead down a hallway, Matt contemplated his choice. He had seen the pictures of Amachops. They weren’t that attractive and looked like female bodybuilders after far too many steroid injections. However, he had also seen what they look like when they “evolved.” So if he found it difficult to give her what she needed, he’d just have to get her to evolve as soon as possible. That thought made him feel somewhat guilty.
He was brought into a decent sized room with a slightly raised platform on the far end. A few moments later a door he hadn’t noticed earlier opened, and five Amachops walked through lining up on the platform. All were nude.
“Take vyourre pick. Or, rare vyou mant tzo see other ‘girls?”
Matt glanced at the selection. They were all very masculine. All around four feet tall or 120 cm., they had the build of Olympians with steel gray skin and oil black hair. One was more feminine than the others and had wider hips and a daintier jaw, but her muscles bulged just as much. A couple looked apprehensive. One’s lip curled upward briefly in disgust when she saw him. It was brief, less than half a second, but Matt saw it. It would most likely be in his best interests not to pick her.
“You there,” he said, gesturing to the one that apparently did not want to be picked,” if you don’t want to be here, just leave. Go back to whatever you were doing.”
The Amachop looked up to the staff pokégirl that had lead Matt to the room. Apparently, whatever permission she had been looking for had been denied because she remained in her place. Maybe he made an incorrect assumption. Oh well. He doubted he’d pick her anyways.
Jeez, what was he going to do? Just stand there awkwardly until he made up his mind? Interview them? That would take forever. Come to think of it though, maybe he should ask them at least a few questions.
Before he could, the staff pokégirl handed him the handheld device she had been carrying around. On it looked like a list of statistics and disciplinary records for the ‘girls in front of him.
“Thanks,” he said idly. The stats had things like age, BMI, mass, records at certain physical activities, whether or not they were threshold or domestic, and number of times they had been run through a taming cycle with the particular level listed in parentheses. The disciplinary record was mildly disturbing. They had things listed such as speaking out of turn and other minor things that might be rude but unwarranted any form of disciplinary action even for a child. Different cultures, different standards he guessed.
The one disciplinary record that really stood out to him was the one for the Amachop that sneered at him. It was rather worrisome. It looks as if she had been run through three level-3 taming cycles which, if he remembered correctly, were for correcting violence and other troublesome behavior that wasn’t being fixed with other methods. She had been down for assaulting other ‘girls at the ranch and more. She was definitely not an ideal pick for him.
The rest of them seemed all pretty much well behaved according to the records, but was he to just pick one from something so cold and impersonal? Even when searching for an employee, a supervisor or other station of management would conduct an interview of the individual. However, interviewing four people would take forever. Just a few quick questions then. Yeah, it’d be short and sweet.
Matt walked up to the second one on the left, ignoring the troublemaker on the far left. “So, tell me about yourself,” he addressed her. To his surprise, she stuttered a bit but didn’t seem to be able to answer. Very strange. So he stepped to the next one and repeated the question. All he received was an odd look and a half shrug.
“Whay rarre vyou fragsk us?” the more feminine Amachop addressed him before he even made a move in her direction. She was the first one here that was outspoken. Even the aggressive one on the left hadn’t said anything yet. Now if only he knew what she meant. It seemed to be something about why he was asking, but he still didn’t have the hang of the local dialect.
“Well,” Matt said, “I suppose I’m trying to make this less impersonal, to see if I can learn… something before I pluck one of you away from what’s probably been your home for god knows how long. I actually don’t know what I’m accomplishing though.”
“Wi could byt lying,” she pointed out.
“Of course.”
“How can vyou learn anything fom ai paew fragsk?”
Wow, she had a pretty thin accent. Fragsk was definitely question, he thought. Paew sounded like few. “I have no idea, but I think I know that you’d let me know when you thought I was doing something stupid. How serendipitous.”
He turned to the staff pokégirl. “Her,” he announced patting her on the shoulder. When he turned to the Amachop, her eyes had widened and her jaw slackened slightly in surprise before they snapped back into a neutral expression just as quickly.
(0120 – Southern District Pokécenter #2, Lindis, Azure League)
Matt sat down on the bed and heaved a sigh of relief. That hadn’t been nearly as hard as he had expected. The Amachop he had selected gave him a funny look. She bore no clothing save a small strip of cloth that the ranch had her put on before they left so she’d be at par with the public decency laws.
Looking up at his newest… slave- he was definitely going to hell for this- Matt made a sweeping gesture to the two chairs and bed in the room. “Have a seat. No need to just stand around,” he said.
Hesitant at first, she sat on the bed near him but not directly up against him. She looked up at him, her 120 centimeters dwarfed by his 193. Why did the metric system just pop into his head? Weird. Oh well, the whole world probably used it now that the only two idiot countries that used imperial still were long gone. It would probably be easier on him if he refrained from using old measurements like feet and so on. Of all the…
He needed to get back on track. “Gabriele,” he said turning to the Amachop, “Do you like that name?”
She was surprised at first but simply nodded not having any words to really add at the moment.
“Figured ‘Strongman of God’ suited you. Of course, Gabriele is a feminine version of the original name,” Matt idly stated filling the silence for a few short moments. The silence, however, quickly settled back into the atmosphere. Working up the nerve, he stood up and said: “Well before we do anything else tonight, there’s something I need to tell you.”
Matt pulled out Samantha’s ‘ball and released her. “This is Samantha, and she is also my… pokégirl.”
Gabriele frowned. “Ai dought ai var vyourre starter.”
“You are the starter I was awarded for passing the test. Her presence doesn’t really change anything since I’d inevitably have to gather other pokégirls anyways.”
Gabriele cocked her head in confusion. “Chto?”
“Errrr…” Matt thought of a way to rephrase his statement. He couldn’t really think of any way for him to do so. He really needed to learn the local language. The gap was too obvious and too cumbersome to deal with. Sighing in exasperation, he continued. “Don’t worry about it. It’s all legal– “ he hoped, “– so it’s just a matter of getting to know each other and being on our merry way.”
He didn’t think it all got through to her. It seems like the more he strays from the more Germanic etymology of English, the less he was understood except by the pokégirls with higher stations in life and humans, something he was still trying to wrap his head around. Maybe it was because those high ranking ‘girls and humans are the only ones that regularly had to deal with that kind of language? Bah, he had no idea. Half baked hypotheses were all he had, that and his knowledge as a reader and shitty author of this ass-backward world. How far would he get before his ignorance caught up with him?
Gabriele looked up at him. “Uh, rare wi gehing tzo tame?” she asked a tad awkwardly.
At the word ‘tame,’ Matt’s eyes shot wide open and his jaw slackened slightly before snapping back in place. He was going to have to get used to women propositioning him like this. Then again, he probably never would. No wonder everyone potrayed all the background characters of this world as arrogant shits. With sex this readily available, he’d probably get full of himself eventually as well.
“Sure, why not?” he said attempting to sound nonchalant. Remembering that Samantha was still in the room, Matt glanced back at her before looking back to Gabriele. He then leaned in to whisper instructions to Sam. He figured Gabriele would want some alone time and he didn’t have the heart to stuff Samantha back into a God damned ‘ball. She’d been in there all day and that’s inhuman enough. God knows he’d be bored out of his fucking skull if he had to endure that.
Matt grabbed a pair of basic heavy restraints out of a compartment he had found snooping around the room before and walked over to Gabriele on the bed giving her a hand up and then leading her off to the bathroom. Samantha could watch television or something while he got ‘acquainted’ with his newest… partner. Slave! She was a slave. He couldn’t help but try to sugarcoat the idea in his head, but it would be an error on his part to delude himself into believing that she was more than that. She would probably rather be a free woman if she had the choice and the economic capability to be independent. It was the reality and his moral burden to bear.
Entering the bathroom, he noticed the hooks and loops in the shower stall that were for those who wished to explore their ‘girls in the shower. He was confused when he had first seen them, but it clicked eventually. He quickly attached them before sneaking around behind the unsuspecting Amachop.
He gently laid his hands onto her shoulders and rubbed his thumbs into various spots he remembered both through muscle memory and previously forgotten experiences. Gabriele gasped and leaned into him. She was very receptive. He could feel his own arousal bubbling forth as he kneaded a foreign body. He was sleeping with more women and definitely more of a variety of types of women in a short few days than he had in… well since that one time that may or may not have been inspired by suspicious punch at that party...
(August 31st, 300 AS – 0630 – Lindis Air-shipyard)
Matt still had no idea what to do with his now priceless artifacts of what at face value only been enough money to get by for a few days in an emergency. He didn’t know the language well enough to trust signing a contract to loan them to a museum nor did he have the resources to hire a solicitor. So, he kept them safe with him. Either he’d find a way to sell them or to preserve them. It just depended on how things turned out.
Even so, his last day of relaxation courtesy of the government subsidized pokécenter had been stress free. He took a walk around the town with his two companions, window shopped in some stores that sold gear for tamers for price comparison and future reference, fiddled with his ‘dex, and of course had wonderfully tiring amounts of sex. Samantha herself wanted to bid Carol farewell.
Carol was very helpful to him with his ‘dex problems, even if he could hardly understand a word she said. Plus it was interesting to sleep with something so different from the standard human woman that his previous reality had accustomed him to. Crud, he was starting to objectify her, something he wanted to elevate himself above. He should contact her occasionally. She was likable enough and sweet like Samantha. Besides, what was he going to do, just walk away and never speak to her again? That sounded like a crappy thing to do to someone.
All that aside, the day had came for him to pack his meager belongings and ship off to some boot camp designed so that tamers might live to see their next birthday. It was necessary. After all, what the hell did he know about surviving in the woods with monsters under every rock? His last adventure in the wild probably was a good example of how well he’d do if ever shoved back into a similar situation.
Which is why he was here waiting in the freezing morning without a jacket. He would have been commiserating with Gabriele and Samantha, but the cold weather had gotten to them too. Hell, Gabriele didn’t even have clothes to speak of. Needless to say, she wasn’t very happy about the situation and took the opportunity to hide from the weather in her ‘ball. Samantha looked like she wanted to go into one too, but she instead insisted on keeping Matt company despite his several offers to put her in her own ‘ball.
Time wore on. The departure time wasn’t for a few hours, but apparently he was supposed to be here some time before 0700 hours for… some reason that was not elaborated upon. Samantha pressed up against him to share warmth. Neither person had especially warm clothing, just the threadbare things that the lost and found box in that Ruby League Hospital had yielded.
He hugged the pokégirl to him and took out his ‘dex to pass the time and distract himself from the cold. Before he could get started, he noticed a figure approaching him- or at least approaching the waiting area. Hey, wait a minute. That was the Blonde guy from the Ranch that he saw the other day. Small world.
Blondie didn’t seem to be the least bit affected by the cold and was dressed as sparsely as Matt was. Next to him was some lizard-like pokégirl. Matt discretely scanned her. Blondie would not notice from this distance. Apparently he had a Frostwhelp, a Rare Dragon/Ice type that was apparently quite friendly. The feralborne ones were decidedly nastier though. Considering how rare they are, how in the blazes did he get one? Wait, they were pretty common in opal which was just on the other side of Ruby. It might have somehow gotten over here. Still, why would the Ranch give her to him as a starter? Or did he have the money to buy himself a second girl while he was there?
““Hey!” Matt called out to the stranger and waved to him.
Blondie looked at him sharply never stopping his quick measured pace. “Hallo!” he called back.
“I’m Matt,” Matt introduced extending his hand for a shake, “and this is Samantha. “You’re here for the ship to the Camp, right?”
“Je, I hem Torkel,” he then gestured towards the Frostwhelp, “zund dhis is Fjrielda.”
“Hello, Fjrielda,” Matt offered in a polite manner.
The Frostwhelp gave him an unfriendly smile that showed off her rows of sharp teeth. Maybe she wasn’t one of the friendly Frostwhelps that the ‘dex spoke of.
Putting the feelings of unease caused by that behind him, he turned back to this new ‘Torkel’ fellow. Unfortunately, his accent seemed completely different from all the ones he had previously encountered. He just hoped he was as or more intelligible as the others. “So, excited?” Matt asked to fill the silence.
Torkel's eyes belied the want to grin, but he seemed to want to scoff at the idea but held it in. “No, I havv live'd in the welds all my life.”
Matt’s eye twitched involuntarily at Torkel’s harsh and abrupt way of speaking. He said he grew up in the wilds? That sounded like he grew up in a frontier family. Matt didn’t think there would be any real frontiersmen considering just how deadly the frontier here was. This sparked his curiosity.
“Do you come from a frontier family?” Matt asked directly.
Torkel looked at him steadily, calculating; gauging in what the appropriate answer would be. “Yes.” he said simply.
Something about the way he said that caused a couple of alarms to go off in Matt’s head. Normally, he’d brush off some of the red flags raised by his pauses and other odd gestures, but old experiences gathered by living in close quarters with chronic bullshit screamed in the back of his brain. Normally, people who answered too quickly were the ones to be suspicious of, but there was just something odd about his behavior.
It was strange, though, considering that there should be little reason for lying to a total stranger over something so trivial. Well, little reason except for someone in Matt’s shoes. Wouldn’t that be hilarious if another dimensionally displaced unfortunate was standing right in front of him?
That thought caused a snicker to escape Matt’s lips. Torkel eyed him as if to search for signs of mockery. Matt noticed this and attempted to assure him that there were no such thoughts going through his head. “I was just thinking of how ill suited I am for this,” he said, “I’ve been a city dweller all my life. My last trip through the woods sorta proves just how dire my need of some guidance is.”
The gears in Torkel’s head were visibly turning. “Your last… trip, you say?”
“More like hapless bumbling,” Matt said self-depreciatingly, “I just woke up to find myself in the middle of the woods, not knowing how in the blazes I got there.” He pulled down his shirt collar a bit to show the beginning of three parallel scars where one of the creatures in the forest, one of the Growlie pack, had clawed him rather deeply. “Was pure luck that got me out of there. Jesus Christ, it’s a miracle I’m in one piece.”
The young man’s eyes tightened at the mention of Christ. Shit, did he take the wrong god’s name in vain? Out of the thousands of people here, did he really need to accidentally insult the one religious guy who cared about Jesus or Yahweh? Matt thought of his perceived folly and decided to distract from it by mumbling to himself just in case he really had offended him. This guy was just as big as he was, something which was unnerving because of its rarity.
“Christ? I wonder what caused that deity’s name to come out. Could’ve been Odin or any other number of gods’ names,” Matt mumbled aloud. He always did like Odin, but then again, he was raised by Christians. Wait, Christ was probably in the church of the Thousand, so why was he covering for himself like this?
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Fjrielda, the Frostwhelp, was a lot closer than he remembered. Fortunately for Matt, whose situational awareness could definitely use a tune up despite his constant state of paranoia, Samantha had lost interest in the cute dog-type waving semaphore flags in the distance and noticed the ice dragon about to take a chomp out of his arm.
Dragon types are tough. They have reputations for being some of the strongest of the various exotic creatures that wander this strange world. Trixies, on the other hand, are not meant for battle, but are highly intelligent, mild psychics and natural gymnasts compared to the standard human.
Much to Matt’s surprise, the sweet girl that had followed him in the woods slammed a vicious fist to the temple of the offending Frostwhelp. It staggered her. Matt somehow managed to idly recall that the little ice dragons had enhanced durability as he coldly realized that he had nearly been attacked again. Perhaps this Torkel fellow simply didn’t have her under control- he had been at the ranch at the same time he was after all- but he wasn’t going to take chances. He’d figure it out when it was all over.
Just as the Frostwhelp was recovered from the strike, Matt managed to release Gabriele from her ‘ball with minimal fumbling. As soon as the red light finished forming into the small Amachop, Matt called out to her: “Subdue the dragon!”
Fortunately, Gabriele didn't stop to question him and simply lunged at the dragon. Although the Amachop was shorter than her, Fjrielda somehow knew, instinctively perhaps, that taking the dense form of the fighting-type head on was a bad idea and leapt to the side.
Samantha’s eyes then flashed inexplicably, and not a second later the Frostwhelp let out an angry hiss while clutching her head as if she suddenly had the bad grandmother of all migraines. Not one to waste an opportunity, Gabriele took advantage of whatever had happened and wrapped Fjrielda in a bearhug.
Matt waited, his heart pounding, until he was sure that Fjrielda’s struggling form wasn’t going to escape, not that it was likely that a little Frostwhelp could escape someone with eight times human strength. He then rounded on Torkel. “What the flip-flying Fuck was that?!” he exclaimed, his adrenal response shifting gears from fear to anger. He was actually even more upset when he noticed Torkel’s relatively calm and composed state.
“What, is a 'flip-flying fuck'?” he asked, a slight frown on his face.
Matt then realized that his profanity must have obscured the meaning of his words. He wanted to be angry; he wanted to keep his blood pumping. But, deep down, he knew it was far from the best idea. So, he took a breath and calmed himself.
But, the man's head turned; glancing over the other women subduing his own and then sighing as if something had gone wrong, "Fjrielda, apologize before they kill you- and stop trying to bite people; iz not what I had in mind by 'greet'.", his expression was less than pleased; he seemed to have been subverted in his orders. He didn't have perfect control; but; it got a response from the Frostwhelp.
"Iz vurry sersch! Vurry sersch!", she was attempting to worm out of the bearhug; and it was obvious that while she wasn't sorry, she was afraid.
"... Like hu means it or I might let his wimmin ov bettle do their werst yea?", this was said without even an inflection of joking- he damn well meant it. This caused the Frostwhelp to start crying loudly~ her eyes wide in fear as she stared at her master; then toward Matt; he pleas were loud enough to cause a disturbance!
"Iz serry! No more bites, no more bites! Let go! Let go!", this only got a cruel smile from Torkel, "Hyu think she iz serry?", this being directed toward Matt.
Matt cast a speculative eye at Torkel himself rather than at Fjrielda. His behavior was probably not atypical of this world, even in a relatively pro-rights country. Without answering he quickly rescanned her and double checked something that he recalled from the entry. It said in the Frostwhelp entry that while the domestically raised ones were bubbly and friendly, the feralbornes were hyperaggressive and ornery as hell.
“I presume you got her from the ranch,” Matt said as he contemplated the panicking Frostwhelp.
Torkel merely nodded, not the least bit preoccupied with Fjrielda’s fate.
This caused Matt to sigh. “I suggest you recall her.”
“Recall?” Torkel asked.
Matt gave him a sideways glance before waving Gabriele’s pokéball, which was still in his hand, in plain view. “Did the Ranch give you one of these with Fjrielda?” Torkel retrieved a shrunken pokéball- about the size of a large marble- and showed it to Matt.
“Press the button on the red side to expand it, then press the one on the white side,” Matt said wearily. He himself had needed to strangle someone to figure out how they worked. This guy was probably from a rural area and might be just as unused to the odd contraptions as he.
Torkel quickly tried the buttons himself, and watched with interest as Fjrielda turned into an amorphous blob of red light and retracted back into the tiny ball.
Matt figured that he might as well tell him his suspicions about the ranch. That Frostwhelp was a vicious little thing which meant that she was most likely a feralborne. The ranch must have had trouble foisting her out on someone else and took advantage of Torkel. Then again, he could just be jumping to conclusions.
“Torkel,” Matt addressed the young man, “I think the ranch tried to cheat you.” Torkel raised an eyebrow at Matt, intrigued. “That’s not normal behavior for a Frostwhelp. She’s probably feralborne, so the ranch must’ve dropped her in the lap of whoever they could convince to take her.
Torkel shrugged. “I don’ care. Why hyu sink it matter?”
Matt blinked. “You’re not at least offended with the intent to cheat you?” Torkel smirked but didn’t answer. Whatever, it was his choice. “Oh well, it looks like you won’t have any trouble training her, but just so you know, if she does attack her, she will be taken away; you will also have fines and sanctions placed against you because she is your legal responsibility.
Torkel merely nodded and waved him off. Inside though, Matt knew he wasn’t merely dismissing his advice.
Leaving Torkel to his thoughts, he put an arm around each of his ‘girls and hugged them to him. “Thanks, both of you,” he muttered to them. Neither said anything. Samantha wrapped both arms around him while Gabriele merely leaned into his touch. Normally, he was the farthest thing from touchy-feely imaginable, but he was thankful and it couldn’t hurt to show some affection to the women that would be his lovers and his lifeline… The more he thought about it, the more he felt like a horrible sinner.
He felt Gabriele shiver. “Are you cold?” he asked.
She shook her head.
Liar, he thought. He could feel the goose bumps on her. She didn’t really have any clothes to speak of. She just had enough to cover her chest and pelvis, and the material looked like I was cut from bed sheets. Hell, he was pretty cold and he loved this kind of weather. Of course he had a T-shirt and jeans. They all needed new clothes.
Torkel was silent and kept to himself mostly. He later let Fjrielda back out. She did look properly scolded without so much as an extra word from Torkel. In fact, she looked a step away from supplicating in front of him. Torkel must really know what the hell he was doing. Of course, he grew up in this world.
Not much time passed before a man wearing a collared shirt and slacks rounded a corner and made his way over to them.
“Ai ferzume vyourre hier für die ATTC?” he asked.
Matt recalled that ATTC was the acronym for Azure Tamer Training Camp, so he nodded politely. He was tempted to say ja or dya like a local, but his accent would come out eventually and he’d just look like a jackass later.
The man revealed himself to be a League official and- from what Matt could gather- began to explain that the airship wouldn’t arrive for another hour or so but there was going to be some sort of orientation to mentally prepare them for what awaited them at their destination.
Soon enough, Matt’s training was about to begin and he would- one way or the other- be forced to assimilate into an ass backwards world where super humans were treated like shit. And, this was a “nice” part of the world.
Well over 30k words total now :D