This is a bar. There's a girl in the bar, with a creature sitting on the stool next to her. She is drinking a slushie and the creature is slurping something milky out of a bowl.

There's a Darwinist in downtown Berlin. And she hasn't been arrested, somehow?

She walks up, keeping a respectful distance and warily eyeing the critter, and looks for the bartender.

Isn't one.

"Hiya," says the girl.

"Um, hi." She shifts a little bit, tool belt clanking. Her black-stained clothes smell like some kind of fuel.

"This place is strange. Too... Not-run-down."

And she notices the stars-window. "Um."

"It's magic," the girl says. "Here, I got explanations already, you can just read those." She shoves a stack of napkins in the new arrival's direction.

The napkins explain Milliways.

"Magic, right..."

She reads quickly.

"Bar? I would like the most filling and nutritious thing you will give me for my free drink. If it stops me from getting sick, better."

Certainly, dear.

A huge mug of something only loosely qualifying as a liquid appears.

She takes a sip and nods happily.

"I'm going to assume this isn't a fever hallucination... No help for me if it is. I'm Walta. I fix walkers."

"I'm Bella, I train Pokémon. What's a walker?"

"It... Walks. Instead of using wheels."

Pause. 

"Sorry. I'm bad at. Talking to people. Walkers are mechanical vehicles, that use legs. Twos and fours for little ones. Landships sometimes go for eight, ten, twelve. I like them. Got a decent job 'cause I like them and know 'em."

"So you're a mechanic. Cool. ...Are you expecting to get sick?" She nods at the drink.

"I'm maybe a little sick already. And if I get sick enough I can't work it would be... Bad. What's a Pokémon?"

"Like Zag." She pats her creature, which murmurs "oone" into the bottom of its bowl. "There's lots of kinds. Do you not have them in your world?"

"No. It reminds me of Darwinist creatures." Sip, sip. "Darwinists use creatures for lots of things that we use machines for. They design them. I guess they think it's easier, a creature eats food not fuel and makes more of itself. I always found it creepy."

"...humans also eat food not fuel and make more of ourselves."

"...Um, yes, that's right?"

"And yet I tend not to think of humans as creepy."

"It's more the designing thing. They come up with some really scary stuff that regular animals can't do."

"Like what?"

"Things I know are real because they're in history books about the war are flying whales carrying bats that drop bombs on you, hawks that make acid on their claws, barnacles that can eat through two inches of steel in a week. Things that might be made up or exaggerated... Are really really scary and I don't want to talk about them." She's shaking.

"...okay. Sorry."

"Sorry if I'm making you sad."

"I don't really have enough context to be sad. Bar'll loan me a book on the things if you don't want to discuss them. I'm not sure if explaining Pokémon wouldn't scare you, though."

"I think it will probably be okay if they're from a different world. And half of... That... Was me worrying about other things."

"...okay, well, Pokémon are the nonhuman living things that can move around on their own, in my world. They're really dangerous in the wild - not all of them are aggressive but enough are that you're in trouble if you go much of anywhere in the wilderness. And they're way too strong for a human to fight one off. So we catch them and train them to protect us, and they do other stuff too - I ride around on some of mine a lot, they can do a lot of kinds of labor and generate electricity and people breed and show them and whatnot. And people fight their 'mon against other people's in between the handling the wildlife thing."

"Are they not like humans? I mean. Something's not matching. How does the translation work, what do you hear when I say 'animals'? How about 'mammals'?"

"The translation effect is weird and I don't totally understand it. But it doesn't tell me what those things mean if I don't already have the ideas."

"Animals like we have in the wild and Pokémon are totally different things probably then. But they sound cool! You can ride them? How fast are the fastest ones?"

"A little over Mach 2. Unencumbered airspeed; if somebody's on them they do slow down some. Fastest on land is something like two sixty miles an hour? Again unencumbered. I don't have either of those ones."

"Oh, wow. Our land speed record is a hundred and thirty seven miles per hour. Air speed is - four hundred something."

"Pokémon are pretty impressive. I have got one that flies almost that fast, and one that runs at a hundred fifty mph, when I'm not riding them."

The giant mug of nutri-milkshake is cheering her up a lot as she continues to pick at it.

"I kind of want to build something that goes faster than that just to make a point now. If I can ever afford it."

"Good luck. We don't have machines that go faster than 'mon yet."

"Say, how dangerous is dangerous? Do you think 'mon could destroy a walker, or um maybe you have these, a truck?"

"'Mon won't usually attack objects of their own accord but one could take apart a truck pretty easy if it wasn't a heavily armored truck, yeah."

"Ask me questions if you like. I'm not good at talking but I've learned it's probably rude if I ask all the questions."

"I kinda don't know what questions will upset you."

"A lot of things will upset me and tip-toeing will also kind of annoy me but differently. Talking about 'mon is fun. I don't know. I don't want to rant about how terrible things are either that's rude too."

"I mean, could I help?"

"...You could help me probably. Maybe some other people through me. Especially if your country isn't suffering like Germany. Buying a lot of cans of food would help already. But you shouldn't have to help."

"...well, I don't have to, but maybe I can. I don't have a ton of spending money on me though..."

"Okay... The problem is, have you heard of inflation?"

"The thing where money's worth less per amount than it was a decade ago?"

"Replace decade with hour."

"...oh boy. How does that even happen?"

"The newspaper says it's because of war reparations. I don't know economics. All I know is that I earn a hundred million marks an hour now and that is worth a loaf of bread and next week it will probably be worth a few slices."

"Is this physical money?"

"Yes." She fishes out her shiny new hundred-million-mark note. Printed yesterday. "Bar, how much food can I buy with this?"

It would depend considerably on the sort of food. Reasonably nice hot meals for several days. Perhaps twenty to one hundred pounds of various dry carbohydrate staples.

"...Okay that's a lot more than I would get for it outside and down the street. I only know a few places that even sell food for marks anymore. The rest want your shoes or american dollars or something. Thank you."

I can also exchange it for $7.15 in American dollars.

"I'll probably just take food. And let me..." She digs in one of her pockets and fishes out a big bundle. "Twenty million more, one hundred thousand notes."

I can value these at their worth at the time of their printing, Bar remarks helpfully.

"...That will be very helpful. These are two months old. It'll be easier to figure if you change them for dollars."

$90.37 American, or a comparably increased amount of food.

Nod, nod.

"Great! Maybe you don't need to help me after all. Um, you definitely told me your name but I also definitely forgot it."

"Bella."

"Bella. Bella. Okay. If only I had a few hundred marks from a year ago. Oh well, don't look a gift horse in the mouth."

"Bar, I assume my money doesn't get staggeringly more valuable if you change it for her world's via economic miracle?"

It does not.

"Oh well."

"Nice try. Hey, hey, what other 'mon do you have? They're neat and - I'll just borrow a book about them if it's a bother."

"It's not a bother, I like showing 'em off! This one is Zag and he's a Linoone -" She pulls a ball off her belt and Zag disappears into it in a flash of red light. She replaces it on the line and grabs another. "This one's Dusk."

"Oooh. I like that color scheme. Hi, Dusk."

"Eon!" says Dusk.

"He's an Umbreon. All my 'mon are evolved - they used to be different kinds but they grew up. Zag used to be a Zigzagoon - I got him from my mom and she gave him a really uncreative nickname - and Dusk used to be an Eevee, which can evolve into a bunch of different stuff. Most things can only evolve into one thing, or maybe evolve twice, or maybe have one alternate branch path they can do, but Eevee can be a bunch of things."

"I know I already said this but these 'mon are really really not like animals. 'Evolve' is translating as 'change animals' but it means over a really long time the whole species changes, not individuals growing up. And it happens to plants and germs too."

"Huh, that's weird. Not all 'mon can evolve at all, I just got ones that could or did..."

She shrugs. "I know walkers and electricity, not biology. It's sort of neat that there are worlds that work so differently though."

"Yeah. It seems weird and sad that you don't have Pokémon but I guess that's just because I'm used to them." She scritches Dusk, puts him away, lets out a huge bird. "This is Rachis, she's a Pidgeot."

She flinches slightly. "Not an animal, it's a 'mon."

"So there's a decent amount of variety among them?"

"...yeah. Is there a problem, I can put her away -" She puts her away.

"I'm fine. Old scary stories about big birds, is all. Plus, bar's got impressive security apparently. I'll be fine."

"None of my others have feathers." She lets out a mammalian thingy. "Juu is a Mienshao."

That one gets a Look but no flinch. "Anything that isn't familiar is going to ping that a little, but they're interesting so no big deal. Hi, Juu."

"Shao," says Juu.

"Are 'mon all named after the sounds they make?"

"Most of 'em, yeah."

"I guess if you have to call them something it's the obvious choice."

"Yup." Juu vanishes. A unicorn which is on fire appears. "Fireflower's a Rapidash."

"That. Is the most beautiful living thing I have ever seen."

"You'll make her even more full of herself than she already is," laughs Bella, stroking the fire-mane. She isn't burned.

She almost reaches out. But, well, fire.

"I kinda want to show you some walkers but they don't conveniently turn pocket sized."

"It's really convenient that 'mon do that, I couldn't reasonably have six if they didn't," says Bella. "Maybe Bar can dig up a picture if you tell her what to look for?"

"Ooh okay. Um, the picture the Berlin Daily had in the Porsche Runabout ad?"

Bar provides.

It's a showy lineup of a lot of two-legged walkers of various size. The small ones to the left and right have various workers and tools attached to them. The center is dominated by a tall, sleek, and shiny chrome walker of the same overall type, with a gentleman in a suit grinning at the controls.

The tag line reads 'Not just for work anymore. Porsche Runabout, starting at 3,000,000 Marks.'

"Porsches are very, very nice, if hard to maintain."

"Are they fast compared to wheeled vehicles?" wonders Bella.

"That depends. That really depends. On highways? Maybe not. But on little roads or off roads definitely. Little walkers suffer in speed compared to big ones, but then again I've never seen any big wheeled vehicles. These worker runabouts can probably run at twenty or thirty, and the Porsche one can manage fifty five on an open field. Four-leg walkers the size of this bar that aren't loaded down with cargo or armor can usually do sixty to eighty on flat ground. Fastest passenger landship in operation hits one hundred twenty, the Midyal Cruiser."

"Huh, cool."

"I kinda like airplanes too. But they're so much more expensive, I haven't gotten a chance to actually work on any of them. How is Dash making fire?"

"Her name is Fireflower and her species is Rapidash," Bella corrects. "She's a fire-type, she's just like this all the time."

"No animals I know except maybe Darwinist things can be on fire. What other types are there?"

"Water, electric, grass, dark, ice, psychic, ghost, fairy, steel, rock, ground, dragon, normal, bug, flying. - Oh and poison."

"Do all the types have things like the fire? Except normal I guess?"

"Not... exactly? What do you mean like the fire?"

"How Fireflower is on fire. I can feel the heat even if you're immune. Where is all the energy for that coming from."

"From her? She eats... Bar, can I get a bowl of strawberry rosewater for her?" It appears. Fireflower drinks it.

"Based on the color of the fire that looks like 1500 to 2000 degrees unless there's something phosphorescing, that's like burning a whole bucket of fuel every minute or two."

"I don't know very much about physics but Pokémon don't work exactly like anything else in that department."

Nod, nod. "I guess it's not like I know much about biology. Things that you know why they don't make sense don't make sense more... Does that make sense?"

"...not exactly?"

"...I know a fair bit about physics and very little biology so it's weirder that 'mon have strange physics than that they have strange biology. Because I know what to point to to say 'that's weird'."

"Mm, okay. Anyway, and I have one more, this," she releases a deer with tree antlers, "is Branch."

"Hi, Branch. Hey, you mentioned battles earlier?"

"Yeah, those are a thing."

"Why? Seems, I dunno, sad."

"Pokémon are really tough, they can go at each other and patch up totally fine afterwards. And it gets them stronger for protecting their trainers versus wildlife."

"If they're fine after and nobody's making any of them who really don't want to fight, fight... This thing is probably a lot less terrible than lots of things in my world anyway, who am I to criticize."

"Some people don't pay enough attention to 'mon personalities and try to train really docile ones as fighters but good trainers don't do that."

"...Say. Has your world had any wars? Recently."

"Not really recently? And not nearby where I am."

"Good. Good... We had one, think I mentioned. Sorry for bringing it up."

"It sounds like it really sucked."

"They're calling it 'The Great War'. Biggest, baddest war ever. Ended just five years ago. Guess I'm a little lucky I was too little to remember most of it in much detail?"

"Is the inflation because of that somehow?"

"Germany lost. Bad. The other countries installed a new government and made it pay them lots of money as part of the peace treaty. Only there wasn't enough money coming from taxes, so they printed more. And then France said that Marks are worthless now and reparations must be paid in Francs so they print more and more to keep up with the reparations, and now this."

"...wait, if they can only print marks, not francs, how does printing marks help them keep up?"

"They sell the Marks for Francs. France controls the exchange rate, of course."

"...wow. They can't just, like, wait a little longer for their reparations, huh?"

"Keep in mind I'm only repeating what I read in a very angry newspaper story. I can believe it though."

"Yeah. And it does explain what happened to your money, which really sucks. At least you can buy stuff here."

"And it's not like the entire country's collapsing. Farmers still farm, shopkeepers keep shop, plumbers plumb. Mechanics still fix walkers. Imagine what bankers feel like right now though."

Her giant mug of nutri-drink is about done. She gulps down the last and says, "Thanks for that, bar! It was surprisingly tasty for what it was too."

I am not a believer in suffering for nutrition.

"An admirable point of view."

Do let me know if I can get you anything else.

"I might like some eisbein - sauerkraut and ham. And water."

Water is free, the bar assures her, and she decrements the pile of marks and dishes up a plate of eisbein.

She tucks in. "I wonder if we can trade technology, Bella. You don't have walkers, I don't have the ball things which admittedly won't be useful without 'mon but maybe there's something else."

"The ball things only work on 'mon," Bella confirms. "I'm not sure if walkers would be very popular, but they might. Uh, I'm not sure what else you might not have... I have a computer watch thing?" She displays her wrist.

"Ooh, computer, is it like a really small calculator?"

"...like that but much better?"

"Better how? Besides being small. I am extremely interested. Mechanical calculators are the size of a clothes basket."

"It's also a phone and it can store pictures and tell me where I am and it has watch functions like an alarm and stopwatch."

"A calculator and a phone and a camera and a fancy watch for - how much? No wait I need to learn how to make them. I can borrow books! ...Right?"

Certainly; I have all the books that have ever been published.

"~Tech-nol-ogy," she sings. "I can't believe I didn't think about bringing other worlds' technology back until now! Even if, what, about ninety dollars you said, isn't all that much to start with."

I will be able to find you excellent deals on prerequisite materials but it is a limitation, yes.

"Maybe I can pick a few things and run with them. Maybe I can move worlds!"

"Move worlds? Instead of bringing stuff back?"

"...Yeah. I mean. I'm sure they could use it, but I'm kinda scared of the idea. Things aren't really good in Berlin for a fifteen year old girl with no dad barely a mum and red hair even if she is a mechanic. Even if I showed up with some kind of technology... I don't know."

"...what does your hair have to do with it?"

"I'm not a real German apparently."

"...that's a weird sort of stereotype..."

"The bigots care about skin color too. And religion."

"Caring about religion is less bizarre, but still not very nice."

"Sometimes people aren't nice. Shocking, isn't it?"

"No, just disappointing."

She picks at her eisbein morosely.

"What kinda world would you want to move to?"

"Somewhere with no wars, where I have kind of an idea how things work or a job I could do or learn to do, and hopefully somewhere that doesn't care what color my hair is or that I-" she cuts herself off.

"...somebody with a nicer world might come along but mine's pretty peaceful."

"And 'mon are neat. And you have some sweet technology..."

"I'm not sure what kind of job you'd want to do. There might be an application for walkers if you can build them from scratch, but people mostly use 'mon for everything I can immediately think of that a walker would do."

"I can do peoples' laundry or something. If that's still a thing. I wouldn't mind grunt work, anyway, and maybe I'd even like training Pokémon."

"I mean, you need at least one if you ever want to be outside of a city."

"How does one tend to get their first 'mon?"

"I got mine from my mom. He liked me more. Some people buy theirs, or get them from friends, or manage to tame down something wild without formally catching it first."

"There's the problem of translating too. I speak German and a little English and a few sentences of Hungarian."

"...yeah I don't know those. Or of them. They probably don't exist on my world at all, it's weird enough we're both humans."

"...How long would ninety dollars feed me anyway? Seven for maybe two weeks of cheap staples makes thirteen weeks, divide by four for a place to sleep and soap and stuff. Not that long."

"You could crash at a Pokémon center hostel, you wouldn't necessarily need to pay rent right away. They do breakfast too but not lunch and dinner. And it wouldn't come with a place to cook your cheap staples."

"Bar can you sell a translating thing? It's probably expensive isn't it. What is your language called?"

"Sinnoh dialect of a language called Islandish."

I'm afraid I have no such objects within your means.

"Idea! If I write stuff in here will it still be in German if I leave, and Islandish if she writes it and leaves?"

Yes.

"With a non-trivial effort from us both and the cost of paper and ink I could have a phrasebook to work from."

"...if the alphabets aren't the same you won't be able to read from the Islandish half."

"They probably aren't. If you teach me it as soon as we leave I would have a head start."

 "I'm kind of surprised by how much I want to go to your world. Probably should try to pick apart the reasons or something."

"...I mean, your world sounds unpleasant and it doesn't sound like you'll miss your family terribly and you don't have a lot of leverage to bring stuff back to fix it..."

"And 'mon are cool even if I probably will flinch at the ones that are strange to me for a while and some are really fast which is awesome and you have better technology. On the other hand, there'll be the difficulty of a new language and all sorts of new skills and not having a lot of cushion money for packing up and leaving. Then again again it's not like I'll have much savings back in Berlin."

"Also you can't change your mind, unless you turn out to be one of those people who can get Milliways doors whenever you want."

"It's not immediately dangerous over there, but. It's occasionally bad enough that I seriously considered stealing a walker in the dead of night and running south to Italy. I don't want to miss one of the best possible worlds I could have chosen if you leave and nobody else with something good for me shows up before I run out of Marks."

"...yeah, if you got stuck waiting - well you could run up a tab but that seems vaguely like it might be a bad idea -"

"I'll try to find work if I do have to stay here. Put up a sign 'tinker and mechanic - rates negotiable'. My gut's saying to go through with you. I don't know if that's because you're the first- Friendly face I've had a good chat with for a while or if it really is a good idea."

"It doesn't seem like an obviously bad idea. And I can catch you a 'mon to start with, I can spot you the cost of a ball."

"I would definitely appreciate that. Actually, Bar, how much does a ball cost in her money and mine?"

‎¥‎200 or $4.55.

"You won't need to spot me one if I go through with it, I'll just buy it."

"You might want all your cushion though..."

"Hm, okay, don't look a- I already used that idiom today, it's worn out. I will pay you back sooner or later in this hypothetical though."

"Can't scare me. But you will also need to feed your 'mon - I can get you something that grazes so you don't have to spend on chow, but it's hard to train them without treats."

"There's not a desperate unemployment level or anything, right? Miscellaneous unspecialized work I could probably find and get paid for to tide me over until I can make walkers? Or better, mechanic shop work. I know cars too, just maybe not any computers they'd have."

"Most of the really unspecialized work is either done by mon... and you'll have a learning curve training yours... or, uh, requires speaking the language, like if you worked at a store or something. I'm not sure if any of your mechanicking will transfer, the machines are probably all different even if they're both basically cars."

"Uncertain fate either way. Ostracized in an inflation-ridden country, or possibly skill-less and language-less. I taught myself by watching and listening once already... I almost want to hold the door open and shout for anyone to bring me old bills but the street was kinda deserted and I think people will ignore an 'obviously insane redhead' leaning out of a door."

"I mean, if they'll just ignore you, that doesn't sound too bad, you could try it in case."

"Worst case isn't all that bad. Alright."

She solicits a few containers of attractive, relatively rare food from Bar. Jelly, butter, eggs, good crackers. And she leans out the door and shouts that she's selling them all for ten thousand marks.

Most people avoid her. One homeless guy takes her up on it with a small bundle of very ragged bills. He gets a peek into Milliways but shakes his head muttering about visions and moves on. Walta comes back in and presents her spoils to Bar for a valuation of $160. She keeps at it for another ten minutes but doesn't get anyone else. And then two policemen show up and head for her. She ducks back inside.

"Well, that helped but got probably-negative attention outside."

"The guys in uniforms were cops or something?"

"Yeah. But they're the second kind of cop. The kind that looks for foreign spies and rebels and stuff and not street crime."

"...well that's worrying. They won't be able to follow you in here but I guess this makes going home less appealing."

"If I walk out without stuff I'm in for a lecture and maybe trying to figure out where I got the food and very unlikely getting shipped off somewhere on sucpicion of being a rebel. With a bunch of stuff the last two things get more likely. Doesn't help that they chased me out of this hanger where I was watching a military landship getting fixed once... And if there was a chance to do a tech revolution before 's gone with them pawing through my stuff..."

"That sucks, I'm sorry."

"Not the first time doing something impulsive bit me."

"I should probably have asked if you were sure you'd just be ignored before I suggested going ahead. ...You did more than double your money though."

"Yeah, I did. So that's good at least."

"So the alphabet isn't that complicated... and you might be able to learn it without it being translated because there are 'mon that come in all the shapes of the letters and I bet the translation effect won't distort a picture of an Unown as long as it's not actually spelling anything with other Unown? Bar?"

Correct.

"And can I tell her what sounds go with which letters, too?"

To the extent you can make them in isolation, certainly.

"So then you'll have the alphabet and you can write it up however is useful to you to study, and you'll have a phrasebook."

"Oh my god, thank you thank you! You're being so helpful I could hug you."

"I like being helpful!"

"That's a good thing to like. Let's get some Unown pictures."

Bar provides pictures of Unown of various shapes. They are all circles with protrusions.

She starts writing letters derived from them. "Some of these seem tricky, but at least German has some letters that are mostly circles-with-things-attached even if it's only like five."

"I think there are alphabets that aren't just Unown shapes but I don't know any of them and they aren't used near where I live."

And now she has a list of letters that is not an alphabet because it's in the wrong order. "The alphabet German uses is used by like half the world slightly changed for different languages, I think."

Bella tells her how to reorder the Unown shapes.

Which she does. She writes dashes next to them. "Okay, sounds?"

Which Bella also tells her! And she writes out the numerals one to ten, as well, and: "And what do you want in your phrasebook?"

"I'll write everything I can think of down in a notebook and then give it to you and you just copy? Plus anything you think I missed. It could take a while."

"Sure. I was planning to hang around here for hours and hours anyway."

"Oh, definitely, it's fascinating. I almost wanna go talk to some other people but if I do that maybe time goes weird and I lose track of you and don't get to see a world with 'mon."

"Could happen. It's been pretty empty since I showed up though."

She nods and buys paper and ink from Bar and produces an old-style inkwell pen from somewhere and starts writing. The eisbein is long gone.

She's pretty thorough. She goes for individual words mostly, with a some need-to-know phrases like 'how much does thing cost' and 'where is thing'. And serieses of increasingly complicated sentences to help work out grammar with.

And Bella, who has a pen on her, takes the first page when it's full and writes out translations.

She slows down the rate of phrasebook entries after a few minutes, requesting electronics reading material from Bar and only occasionally adding new words to the extant lists.

"Say, where's the door in your world? Somewhere I could poke my head out of the translation aura and practice?"

"It's a Pokémart. I'm not sure if the aura works like that though - Bar?"

The aura will remain in effect for persons substantially inside the establishment even when the door is open.

"I could step into the shop while you stand there and hold the door maybe, but it's not exactly critical to get a two minute head start. I should practice the sounds - if you spell a word think I can make out the letters and try saying it?"

"Sure." Bella grabs Unown pictures and arranges them into a word.

She sounds it out, and says the word.

...She definitely has an accent, but it sounds like someone speaking Islandish with a bad accent, not a seamless Bar-translation so it was apparently comprehensible enough for the translation aura to skip it.

"You've got a heck of an accent but you're not completely incomprehensible!"

"Good! Which letters did I mess up...? Oh and..." She looks through her phrasebook for the relevant word. "It looks like Islandish to me now, neat!"

"Maybe you'll be able to hear me untranslated if I say it?" And Bella repeats the word, slowly and clearly.

"I kinda heard it in both languages." She tries again. It's much better but still accented. Again, again, again.

She laughs. "You know that thing where something stops sounding like a real word sometimes?"

"Yeah. We can do another word." Unown shuffle.

She finds the impromptu language lesson absolutely delightful. It's possible she's just generally cheerful when not actively depressed by something, or maybe it's the rush of going-on-an-adventure, or the fact that she's made a pretty and smart new friend.

Bella does her best to be a good language tutor.

It's fairly effective.

They can't transmit grammar patterns through the translation aura as easily, but Walta thinks it will be okay, probably.

"The phrasebook should help there. And you seem like you learn pretty quick."

"I'm proud of that! Watching and listening is a lot easier than getting someone to actually teach you sometimes."

"That's how you learned to do mechanic stuff too?"

"At least at first. When I was 11 I knew enough to fetch the right tools and, like, tighten hydraulic connections, and then Eren let me watch from much closer and even taught me a little if I did chores like that. And then he got drafted... But I knew enough to figure out the rest on my own by then."

Nod. "- is he okay?"

"He's missing a finger now and doesn't like to talk about it. Still a mechanic though. We work together sometimes."

"Do you have a good way to get word to people who'd wonder where you went, without losing your door?"

"...Not really. If I threw a letter at someone or had you run it the Special Police would take it and probably interrogate whoever I address it to when they can't find me again later. But it's mostly just Eren. Maybe I should tell mom I'm going but I kind of don't, um. Like her anymore."

"...do you wanna talk about that, or, not?"

She shrugs. "Either way."

"...it'll be a lot harder to talk about it in a language you're just starting to learn so if you might want to talk about it in the next, like, year, I don't mind listening."

"It's just... She's not a mom anymore. Well, she is the person who had a baby with my dad, but. But. She doesn't like me, doesn't care. She doesn't like how I learned walkers or the primitive electricity we have, she yelled at me a lot and tried to make me learn 'ladylike' things and grounded me and gave me extra chores at first but she doesn't even do that anymore. She's just there. Looking at me like I'm bad. And now I'm, crying in front of someone I just met, I'm sorry."

"It's okay," says Bella, "um, do you want a hug?"

"Yeah, I could use a hug."

Hug.

Hug. And sniffling quietly.

When she unhugs, "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"I wish my mom acted like a mom. At least it makes it easier to leave."

"Yeah. It'd suck if you had to decide between running away from an awful place or staying with a - comfortable family."

"Yeah."

"...Hey I should maybe tell you something. Um. How do I even phrase it."

"...I really can't help you there without knowing what it is."

"Does your world or your religion freak out about um, gender and romance things?"

"I don't have a religion, personally? What gender and romance things?"

"Unusual romance preferences."

"...like, what, dating six people at once or only going out with people who have blue hair or what?"

Fine she'll just blurt it out. "I don't like boys only girls, and you're pretty, and I won't do anything but you deserve to know."

"Oh. Well, I only like boys, but I don't mind that you think I'm pretty, or anything."

"Okay. People would really freak out in Germany and actually most other countries I think about that. Is why I was nervous to say it."

"I guess you might people who are like 'but don't you want kids' or 'are you sure you've met enough boys to know you don't like any of them' or something? But it's not a huge deal."

"I don't like girls as much either, not like other people seem to. it's just. I don't know. I don't think I want kids ever, I'd be scared to mess it up."

"I'm not gonna get on your case about it."

"Yeah so now you know, and now I'm gonna read for a bit and then try Islandish again, if I can remember stuff after half an hour of not thinking about it it's a good sign."

"Sounds like a plan."

So she borrows a mechanic's manual from Bella's world and tries to figure out how much of her know-how will transfer.

...not much. Bella's world is pretty heavily electronics-based and a lot of things have computers in them. The measurement system and tools are different, some of the materials are futuristic and unfamiliar, the designs are backwards or inside-out where she can figure out what they are at all.

Is it using some of the same basic parts at least? Spark plugs and fuel injection and carburetors and timing belts and sway bars and hydraulics...

She can find things that are probably otherwordly analogues of those things with some effort. Although a lot of them have been rendered obsolete with fancier stuff.

She starts absorbing the new stuff, then. It won't help that much without actual engines and tools and so on to look at and it's not like she can borrow a whole workshop from Bar, but still.

Bar is happy to help guide her to useful materials and answer questions.

She doesn't learn from books as easy as watching a mechanic at work.

Luckily, there are video lessons of people working on similar machines somewhere in the multiverse.

There are even videos straight from Bella's world!

The existence of video recording is new to her but if it works it works!

After about an hour she wants to try Basic Islandish With Bella again...

...She forgot about a third of it, and the rest comes back easily once they get talking.

Bella is patient about the forgetting.

"What do you reading?" Entirely in Islandish.

"- should I correct your grammar or just give you points for being understandable?"

"Yes, please correct my grammar." German.

"It'd be 'what are you reading'. I'm reading the Security handbook, I'm thinking I might get more doors if I have a bar job."

"Oh, that's a good idea! Bar, if I had a compact armored walker with stun electric thing and net cannon or something you think I could work Security? And a few 'mon of my own, because I'm assuming you'll use yours Bella?"

"I would be completely unqualified without them."

Yes, that would suffice, says Bar.

"I want to read it after you are finished." Islandish.

"You could get your own copy, Bar isn't copies-limited."

"I did- Um. I said that in practice." She switches languages. "Bar, I'd like that second copy please."

Security handbook! Most rules apply only in the main bar area, defined thus. You are guaranteed to be scheduled with patrons who you can take but not guaranteed to suffer no work-related injuries, but use of the infirmary is free (even for non-personnel). Bar has an extension into the Security office and will alert you to disturbances if you do not have your own solution to that.

"I very well might. Listen to that, whatever controls the doors! I want to come back and work security with a really cool mini-walker so you'd better let me!"

Assignment regularity is not guaranteed.

"Because of the doors, or not-every-time-I-show-up?"

Because of the doors. You will have the opportunity to sit at least one shift whenever you find a door.

"Okay that's what I expected. And the pay is 'reasonable based on your capabilities' probably?"

Pay is by subjective time in whatever currency you prefer and commensurate with performance. It also comes with a room in the bar which you may use at any time provided you sit your assigned shifts, even if you spend considerable time in the bar and not sitting shifts. What would you like your starting rate denominated in?

"Starting rate assuming I come back with gear as described - in her money." She looks at the reply-napkin and nods in approval. "That'll work, sure. I'll be here for a long while today still though."

Of course.

Back to Islandish work with Bella? "And thank you both for being so helpful by the way."

It's no trouble at all.

"You're welcome!"

Several hours could probably pass without much of note; Language practice and studying up on Bella's world's technology and society need not be relayed in significant detail.

And eventually Bella holds the door for Walta.

Who has a bunch of various new stuff in her toolbelt and a significant chunk of local currency.

She walks through. "Can you still understand me?"

"Yeah."

"Unless you think I should try to buy a 'mon - any recommendation for what to get you to catch? A grazing one, fire type is nice but if that's difficult then okay."

"I can get you a Ponyta. They graze and evolve into Rapidash like Fireflower."

"Ooh, I like. Do you buy the ball or me?"

"I can grab it. I can get a two-pack, I was going to get one in the mart anyway, Rachis's one has a hinge wearing through."

"I can maybe fix a hinge if it's not, um. No word. Metal being tired?"

Bella lets Rachis out and offers her the ball.

She investigates it and determines, "Sorry, not unless someone sells just this part, the metal is too old."

"I don't know of any way to get just one Pokéball hinge. So, I'll get a two-pack." And she goes back in through the door that once led to Milliways, and purchases a two-pack of Pokéballs, and drops the old one in a specialized disposal container, and puts Rachis in a new one, and then lets her out again and climbs on and motions for Walta to do the same.

She climbs on. Carefully and only a little hesitantly.

(She's probably a little heavier than Bella, with her tools.)

Doesn't seem to faze Rachis down any. Bella makes sure Walta's holding on and then whistles and the bird takes off. She doesn't go Mach 2, but she travels at quite a clip.

"Eeeeee this is really fun once I done being scared!"

"I love flying!" agrees Bella.

"I think I'll like running more! But yeah flying is great!"

And eventually they get where they're going. "I'll be able to find you a Ponyta here," Bella says, "but it might take a while."

"I can wait. It's pretty here, I didn't get to see nature much either."

"I'll leave you Zag to watch out for you in case something attacks you." She lets the Linoone out and tells him to do that.

"Okay. Thanks for your help, Zag. I won't make it hard for you by wandering around too much."

"Oone," says Zag, and Bella tosses Fireflower and swings up onto her back and trots out into the grass.

She's not going to go so far as to try and pet Zag. Not her 'mon. She does sit down and sigh happily.

Zag stands guard, occasionally running a circle around her sniffing the ground.

"You looking for something?"

"Linlinlin."

"'I don't speak Islandish silly'," She translates.

"Noone," chuckles Zag.

She stands back up and strolls along the trail, staying out of the grass.

He heels.

A bladed bug pops out of the grass, looks at her and Zag, says, "Scyyyy."

Eep. She starts backing away, hands up, still speaking calmly. "I'm not bother you, Scy."

Zag gets between Walta and the wild 'mon and chatters challengingly at the bug. The bug feints, Zag dodges, the bug mutters some more, and then it tromps off into the grass without bothering them further.

Walta goes back to where Bella dropped her off and stays there. "I see what she means about needing 'mon to go out, if that happens a lot."

"Linoone," agrees Zag. He puts his head in her lap.

...Is this an invitation to pet the cute 'mon? She decides to take it as one. Pet, pet.

"Nnnnnnnn," he says contently.

Bella's back about twenty minutes later and hands Walta a Pokéball. "Got you a Ponyta!"

"Ooh, let's see! Do I need anything special to make the ball mine?"

"...it's usually pretty automatic? Do you like... feel anything? People have different numbers of 'mon they can handle, I can do six and that's as many as anybody can do..." Zag trots up to her and she scritches him. "Most people can do two or three."

She holds it and thinks for a minute. "...Yeah, there's something. A pressure, a link?"

"Then you should be all set. But just because he's yours doesn't mean he's trained, so you shouldn't try petting the fire parts and it is possible that if he is bad-tempered he will bite or something. Not enough to seriously injure you, just enough to be annoying."

"I see. I'll be watching trainers and reading about it, but any advice from a good one while you're still helping me? Mind if I buy a few treats off of you and meet him here and now? Or is he hurt from the catching? I want to do this right."

"He's a little banged up, we probably wanna fly you back to a Pokécenter and heal him before you let him out. I will happily give you some treats and walk you through introducing yourself to him."

"Alright! Just remember if you ever need a machine fixed or in a year a computer even, I'll be glad to."

"I appreciate that!"

"So back on Rachis? I'm probably gonna name him Feume, is that a weird name?"

"Yeah, but people name their 'mon all kinds of weird things. Why Feume?"

"German words for fire and flower squished together and shortened. I think it's pretty, hope fireflower doesn't mind."

"I don't think she'll mind."

"Feume it is."

And they fly back to civilization and Bella finds them a Pokécenter and shows Walta how to present her new 'mon for healing.

Which she does without comment.

And now they can go off somewhere and Feume can come out and meet his new trainer!

She tosses the ball and says, "Hello, Feume," Once the red light fades.

Feume sneezes and looks around. "Ponnn." He glances at Bella and Rachis, then trots up to Walta and tilts his head. "Ta."

Bella gets out a packet of treats and offers them to Walta. "One for free to get him in a good mood and after that he has to work for 'em."

He's staring at the treats, yes, and croons when Walta feeds him the first one.

"Let's see what you can do, Feume." She's looked up likely natural moves. "Growl?"

Feume waits a moment to make it look like his idea, then issues a growl as requested. Walta says, "Good, good." And gives him about half of a second treat.

"Once he's a little more used to taking commands we can set him up to spar a bit with one of mine. Mine are all way stronger but they can go easy."

"Does sparring sound fun, Feume?" 

"Ta!" He stamps his hooves a bit.

"Sounds like a yes to me. Feume, use ember."