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Wants-it-let-go looks at it when it speaks, but apparently their conversation isn't actually about that.

Psychic walks into the room, yawning. "I can do a few more minutes."

"Thank you, Joe, the sooner it can talk for itself the better," says wants-it-let-go.

"I don't see why," says caught-it.

"Larry, I will call the cops on you if you mistreat it -"

"- yes, we all know your dad's a cop, Bella, but I gave it water and food and it's not even eating the food, it can have treats when it behaves like any other 'mon!"
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"Food is bad. Not enough-" something in its language, apparently.

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"Everything can eat that stuff, it's generic," says Larry.

"Look," says Bella, "even you admit that if it's a 'mon it's a legendary one and that means you don't know what it needs, and fortunately with Joe helping it can tell you. If you won't stop keeping a speaking creature like it's your pet Bidoof -"

"- arena star combatant!"

"- like it's a regular Pokémon, the least you can do is take reasonable care of it!"

"Everything can eat that stuff! It gets treats when it does what I'm training it to do, not before."
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The Hiver tries to talk to the telepath, soliciting as many words as he can as quickly as he can. Apologize for heavy demand on you.

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Joe obliges as best he can, although by the time a few minutes have gone by he's rubbing his temple and then he shakes his head and wanders off again. Meanwhile, Bella and Larry shout at each other.

"Why do you even care, it isn't like it was yours!"

"It doesn't have to be mine for me to not want you to starve it because you don't know what its species eats, and not want you to enslave it because it looks like it's probably a bug type and you have a team slot!"
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"Larry. You are not my princess. You are a prince claiming everything he sees not knowing what it is. This is not my Hive. If I fight for you, it must be trade."

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"Sure it's a trade. You win me tournaments and I get you 'puffs," says Larry.

"That is not how you trade with sapient beings."

"Stop trying to tell me what to do, Bella!"
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"Where I come from I was respected. I have no Hive here, and probably no chance to return home. But I am a Warrior, and the purpose of my existence is to fight."

"I will fight for you if you respect me, and provide me with sufficiently not-terrible food, and allow most or all of my time to be spent outside of that irritating Pokéball, and provide me with art supplies. If you will not do this, attempting to escape is my only option. I will fight whatever Pokémon you want me to fight now if it will prove I am worthy of such, to your standards, unusually good treatment."
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"Ha," says Larry, "see, it's coming around, mostly, wanna match, Bella?"

"It might not even really be a Pokémon! What if whoever you're fighting overshoots and it dies?"
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"Death in a good battle is better than any other fate that awaits me outside of a Hive."

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"Whoa, let's not get crazy, now, I can't replace you if it turns out you're not as tough as a regular 'mon," says Larry. "Maybe you should be a show 'mon instead, that's safe -"

"Aaaaaaaaugh!" exclaims Bella.
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"I still do not know many words. Do you wish for me to fight, or not?"

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"I don't want you to die. 'Mon can usually fight a ton and not die but Bella thinks you're a weird 'mon."

"Or not one at all! It could be an alien or something!"
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"I am probably not a Pokémon. I have never seen any before today. But what else could I do? I am not a scientist. I could not return home even if I were. I am a stray, without a Hive. Fighting show-battles is better than no purpose at all."

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"It's some kind of alien!" insists Bella. "If it wants to fight I guess that's fine, but at least give it to a ranger or a city perimeter or something, not shows or tournaments -"

"I'm not going to give it away!"

"Trade it, then, I'm sure you could get anything off any ranger's belt for it, and then it would be doing something useful!"
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"How do Pokéballs work?"

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"We don't understand the details, we aren't scientists either," says Bella.

"You throw it at a weak 'mon and then it goes in and you take it out later," Larry says.
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"This discussion is moving in a circle. Where can I find more water?"

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"Get it more water, Larry."

"I gave it a whole -"

"And now it needs more, it's huge, what, did you think you could feed it like your Luxray?"

"Ugh."

"And leave the poor thing out, it doesn't like the ball and you've got everybody's fire-types prowling -"

"Stop bossing me around!" Larry stomps away with the emptied water bowl.
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The Hiver follows, so as to learn where water may be got.

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The water can be got out of a faucet in a room too small for the Hiver to enter.

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That is irritating. It asks Larry, "Is there a water I can get to myself? At the moment I would be comfortable with at least four bowls."

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"All the plumbing in the building's in here. Quit complaining." He hands it a filled bowl.

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The Hiver gulps it down and hands it back and waits.

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Larry fills it up again, as many times as the Hiver wants.

Total: 250
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