Caspar snorts and takes another sip of his coffee. The truth is, Harley has the power to scare him, too, or at least make him incredibly uncomfortable. He appreciates the fact that she's respecting his personal space.

"Ugh. Don't get me started," he complains, as the poké mart comes into view. "They train the pokémon to fight other pokémon. The respectable ones keep it in a gym where there are rules -- it's no worse than wrestling, so far as I can tell, and the pokémon are into it -- but these assholes, they form gangs and taunt people into battle." He shakes his head. "Why can't they be like typical humans and shoot the shit out each other instead? They have to drag their pets into it. It's disgusting."

Fortunately, the only people hanging around outside the mart today are a couple of trainers and a flock of wild pidgeys pecking at some crumbs on the ground. "The terminal's right inside the entrance," he says, holding the door open for her.