“... and that... is...”

“It means I do contests, not battles.”

There’s no denying it, though; the botched translation, the confusion, the lack of recognition of Pokémon and Pokéballs...

”I must be a lot further from home than I thought.

“It may be so, child, but the heavens watch over us all! Would you like something to drink, while you rest? The living room is there, and others will be glad to hear of your travels.”

Ruby heads to the living room, where there are two younger children, both younger than he is; from the looks of it, maybe 7 and 9, although he doesn't think he's good enough that he'd be able to tell them being a year off that. He continues his combing of Coco's fur while she finishes dinner; she's done just as the woman with the Skitty headband from earlier arrives. Dinner is fairly tasty, but it quickly becomes clear that they're missing a lot of the technology that he takes for granted from back home, and it's kind of an ecletic mix; they have no Pokéballs or other storage technology whatsoever, even though those had been around for centuries before some of the stuff they do have.

During dinner, he manages to finally unpack what, exactly a goblin is; they aren't wholly dissimilar to Pokémon, which seems to be why the translation got tripped up there. There are some... fairly major differences, but it's the closest thing to Pokémon contests they have, and there's one starting up tommorow where he can get a ruling from their equivalent of contest judges.

Some of what they do have seems like it must be very advanced - dinner is cooked with the help of a strange looking ever-burning bush within the fireplace, there are a few flowers scattered throughout the house that illuminate as much as lamps would, there’s a houseplant in the corner which spends its time gravely playing a small blue violin and providing ambiance, a few other contrivances are scattered here and there - but further inquiry reveals everything to be of magical manufacture. 

The woman with cat-ears and her wife continue being ridiculously hospitable, cheerful, and incurious, and provide a place to stay, for the night.

There is morning, and early afternoon, the next day, and then he’d best be off to the pageant, if he’d like to be in it.

He definitely would. He'd spent the morning putting the absolute finishing touches on their conditioning, making sure they were ideally bedecked to wow an antirely unfamiliar audience, who wouldn't even necessarily have the same basics of appeal structure, and then heads off to the building in question. He's maybe half an hour early - there wasn't that much to do.

Were this internal narration audible to anyone who had seen his preparations earlier that morning, there might be a sense of disbelief.

The building is very, very nicely made, and nevertheless resembles a sort of overgrown tree stump.

There’s a woman in a spectacular dress, just outside of it - a tasteful mix of metal scales in shimmering technicolor, a soft, silken, translucent fabric, simultaneously of the same Viking-chik style he’s seen elsewhere and inifinitely transcending it.

She glances down at him.

”Hello. You are here for the paegent auditions?”

"I am. I'm from a ways away, though, where we do contests differently; I'm hoping to get a list of the rules, and to make sure my Pokémon will be allowed to compete."

“Those who compete will compete; those who do not will not. You are not from Tea, and you did not learn this language by nature; from where do you come?”

"I'm from a place called Johto; Goldenrod city, to be specific. I have no idea where that is relative to here."

“Perhaps it isn’t. I have know stranger things. Young boys arriving early, for instance - most people will come five minutes before, and some will arrive five minutes after, and some will arrive after dusk. You and I have arrived thirty minutes early; why do you think that is?”

“I had some things I needed to have done before I participated, and didn’t know how long they would take, so I made sure to give myself plenty of time.”

“How practical. What do you plan to enter in the pageant?”

“My Pokémon are trained to participate in Cuteness, Coolness, and Intelligence contests, but I’m not sure how the categories line up here.”

“I see.”

“Is there anything from your plan that you can share, or all of it going to be a surprise? To be honest, I can’t wait to see what the local fashions are.”

“I am a judge, not a contestant.”

He blinks, the reevaluates.

”In retrospect, expecting all contests judges to have the same kind of uniform was pretty foolish; even Johto and Hoenn’s aren’t identical. That’s even more convenient, though; do you have a list of the rules I could look at?”

"There is a list inside the building, which will not open for five minutes still. I have memorized it, but recitation would waste my time, and to waste time is a terrible thing, far more terrible than killing it. I have killed before - but I have not wasted. Some lines are to be crossed, and some lines are better obeyed, as some little boys are ordinary and some are very strange... tell me of those goblins you intend to display."

“It doesn’t sound like you have these types, so I’m not sure how the translation will handle it but... Nana is a Skitty, Coco is a Poochyena, and Ruru is a Ralts, and back home they’d participate in cutenesss, coolness, and intelligence contests. None of them are very large, but Coco is the biggest of the three.”

"If they are larger than a sapling, and smaller than an oak, they may suffice? We will know with the passing of time. But of their colors, their forms, their metaphor and practice, their beauty and elegance and ugliness...?"

“They should meet that size requirement. Coco is jet black, and undoubtably cool; Nana is pink and beige and cute; Ruru is green, red, and white, and brilliant. Naturally, they’re all in peak Condition.”