The streets of Driftveil City are peaceful and sparsely populated. A kid in a baseball cap dashes around quickly; a cop patrols at a measured rate. A golden ring full of glowing purple energy—a dimensional portal—appears briefly.
"Maybe I can... edit that in to my translation software so it will... no, it will really be jarring either way."
👍 "Okay!
Anyway, if you decide you want a Pokemon, the quickest way to get one here in Driftveil would be to talk to Clay, that's the local Gym Leader. If you don't like his selection, the next thing to try would be calling in one of the professors or their assistants."
"People often prefer species they find cuter. It's also common to want one that matches your preferences for physical environment? Like, if you enjoy swimming, you might specialize in Water-types so they can join you in the water."
"Oh. I am not particularly interested in swimming, I'm accustomed to living on a spaceship."
Frank clears his throat.
"Sorry, um, what I mean to say is, you mean an actual interplanetary vessel, not an orbital space station?"
"Yes, I was a star cadet. We had to defend the border against another planet in our system."
"Um. For context. The furthest we've been is the Moon, and until now we weren't aware of any dimensions where people have gone further. I think you could make a lot of money talking to researchers, if you know anything of how your technology works.
How long has it been since, um, I don't even know what milestone to use. Since people in your world first split the atom?"
Money rears its head again. "I don't know how to build a ship, nor exactly how old nuclear fission is though I guess I wouldn't be off by more than a couple hundred years."
Frank whistles.
"It's been a little under a hundred years since we first split the atom. Less than that since the first moon landing and first personal computers. Even, like, the simplified lies-to-children explanation of your ships might tip our physicists off to which of their grand theories is correct, or there could be trace substances in your blood that inspire our chemists to create something cool—but you can think about whether to share stuff like that later, when you're more settled. You don't owe us anything just cause the portal spat you out here."