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The Wild Man of Pokemon

"Welcome to the world of Pokemon!" Never had I expected those words to apply to me. One day I was a content eighteen year old, playing on my console; now I'm a four year old stuck in the middle of nowhere. I hope someone left me some Pokeballs somewhere.

TheQuibbler20 · Derivados de juegos
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37 Chs

Hunting

Apparently, the berry juice I have been eating came from an Oran berry. Eating the fruit, and nearly spitting it from the texture shock, revealed multiple flavors in one. Sweet, sour, a touch of spicy, juicy, and just the barest hints of bitterness.

In games, Oran berries were beginner healing items. Considering the diverse flavors, it must be packed with the nutrients to support this.

After declaring my hunger, I was taken down the tunnel until it branched off in two different directions. One leads to he exit, and the other to a grove of berry trees. It was a long walk to the grove, a good twenty minutes if I had to speculate. On the way, I did have to admire the tunnel.

It was around four feet high, about seven inches taller then I and was packed smooth. Occasionally, tree roots snagged my hair, otherwise it was a smooth journey.

When we finally arrived, I was blinded by the sun. Everything was whitewashed, everything barely discernible. A striking headache took over, causing me to tumble back into the cave. Taking a breath to adjust, I squinted from the edge of the exit.

The saturation of the forest was immense, each blade of grass, skins of berries, and these weird luminescent motes floated around all the plants. Nincada and the Meowstic were looking back, to see if I was alright.

"Just give me a minute."

Sluggishly, my eyes adjusted to where I could keep them open, though I still had a migraine.

"What are the little floaty things."

The white Meowstic turned her head. Realization dawned on her and she replied with an image of this energy traversing the veins of plants and trees.

"Its their life energy?" I somewhat remember that being a thing.

I think it was in a few movies and I believe it was the Kalos region legendaries that could manipulate it. Xerneas and Yveltal if I recall.

It was odd seeing it in real life, even stranger when I realize I am probably the only one outside of Pokemon that can see it. Another thing to ponder in the future.

The three Pokemon guided me to a tree not to far from the tunnel. It was stout and thin, the branches weighed down by numerous Oran berries.

Grabbing a few, I bite into the multi-flavored fruit. It juice exploded in my mouth, though it had a stronger bitter flavor then the previously tasted. Must not be ripe. Devouring a few more, I fill my stomach to capacity. Though I am still unsatisfied for some reason. I had a sneaking suspicion it had to do with the lack of meat. Quivering from my last experience, I swallow it, resolving myself to be better.

.........…..

Returning back to the den, I finally get a good look at it. In simple terms, it was a circular room with a nest of leaves towards the back. About twelve pace from each end. Nothing fancy, but enough space to grow into.

Taking a seat, I look to the Meowstic, "So what do we do now?"

They shrugged before bedding down in their nest. Glancing at the Nincada, it too shrugged. I believe this is the moment where those anime characters sweatdrop.

"Okay then."

I start walking around, getting used to my body. Carefully, rubbing my feet on different textures, grabbing stones then rolling them in my hand, feeling the surfaces and building calluses to the pain. It was both enlightening and torturous. Enlightening in that I could detect details and defects in the rock that no human ever could.

The tiny cracks, the slight bumps, even the roughness of river stones.

It was an experience.

Soon though, I grew board. The Nincada was making a tunnel in the wall. Deciding to see its process, I stuck my head at the entrance. Big mistake. Dirt flew into my face, blinding me. Falling backwards, I spluttered, waking the Meowstic. Seeing I was fine, they returned to their rest.

Wiping the debris off, I glanced back into the little hole, albeit more cautiously. Inside, I saw the Nincada clawing the tunnel, then taking the dirt and shoveling it out with it back legs. So far, it had made a den about an arms length deep and about two arms wide. The ceiling was barely tall enough for it to fit.

Once it had reached an appropriate size, it then used string shot to build supports. It took some dirt and then compressed it with its tiny, nearly invisible mandibles. After that, it bound it up in the sticky thread, building up supports.

Hours had flew by when it was finished. What it had made was a flat disk with several supports holding it up. In the back of the disk was a divot where I assumed it would sleep. Turning around, it finally realized it had an audience.

Unsure what to do, it waved. I waved back.

"So what do you do now?"

Images of a covering over the divot, and a sleeping Nincada inside were its response.

"You go to sleep?"

It chirped.

"Okay. I leave you be then."

It saluted, before spinning the covering out of string.

Curiosity got the better of me.

"How do you make that not sticky?"

The Nincada thought for a minute before shrugging.

"Instinct?"

It nodded.

"Fascinating." Surprised by the interest, it took a bit of the thread and handed it to me.

Finished for the time being, it scuttles under the covering going to sleep. As I was backing away, I felt something beneath my feet. It was like a vibration, but not at the same time. Perhaps a current? Whatever it was, it led to the little Nincada in it den.

Deciding to leave it for tomorrow, I go to the other end of the room and make my bed.

It was a humble thing, I just removed all the rough bits and smoothed everything down as much as possible.

Not the most desirable bed, but it will have to do. Playing with the string before going to sleep, I was able to make some conclusions. The first was that the string is incredible strong. I pulled on it, but it would not break. It might just be my four year old body, but… I do not think I am that much of a weakling. Right?

The next thing I noticed, was that it was super smooth. Already, I had designs of making clothes with this, however time consuming it may be.

Finally, I discovered that it was elastic, like a rubber band. I imagine it is because of the nature of string shot. It is designed to slow an opponent down. If it was incapable of stretching, it would be susceptible to snapping. Sighing, I put the thread aside, ready for some sleep.

Relaxing, I slowly drifted off into the realm of dreams.

.........…..

A week had passed in that manner. I would wake up, take care of 'business', then fetch breakfast with my three companions.

I studied the life energy of trees and even tried to interact with, but no such luck. After that, we would return to the den. The Meowstic would still rest and the Nincada and I had to get creative in our entertainment.

At first, I interrogated Nincada on the uses of his thread. He showed me that he can make it sticky smooth, hard, elastic, or some combination. It was truly interesting.

By the third day, I tried to convince it to make clothes, but the Nincada denied, saying it could only make so much thread at a time. Giving up for now, I did get more experienced in translating their thoughts. With each conversation, I was able to pick up a bit more of the lingo. See the thing was, Pokemon do in fact have a language, just not a verbal one.

They spoke through intents, capable of sending feelings, thoughts, and meanings in this complex transference. It was so much more intimate then speaking out loud. Furthermore, I could identify who was 'speaking' by the general feel of their… Its hard to describe, I think the closest term would be aura. Every Pokemon has a quality that separates them from others. Like the male Meowstics aura is playful with hints of blue, while Nincada's is calm and green.

Even gender is able to be transmitted through this aura. It was like a polarity, vibrating in a certain way. At first, I wasn't sure what it was and asked Nincada, at which point I was shown images of things never meant to be repeated.

I know he is a Pokemon and does not have the same values, but he should have a little prudence. The rest of the afternoon was spent blushing, not able to look Nincada the same ever again.

The next day, I tested out the full scope of my mental powers. At first, I tried to send thoughts like Pokemon do with minimal success. I know its possible, but the thought gets distorted as it travels. My awareness was stretched, becoming harder to control the farther it traveled. It was eve weirder as I could sense things outside my body. The energy was like pieces of myself being scattered then returning like a rubber band.

Asking the Meowstic during one of their awoken hours for help resulted with 'practice makes perfect'. Sighing, I continued practicing until I could not. That's not to say I got tired, but rather the energy I try to use thins out. Apparently there is little backlash to using these so called thought rays. My brain acted as a tank and when that ran out, I have to wait for it to fill back up before using it again. But even that did not take long. Thirty minutes and I would be rearing to go again.

I did notice the tank get bigger as time wore on. By the beginning of the week, I had enough to send one or two thoughts to the distance of my arm with little success, but by the end of the first day, I was able to get it to about four or five feet.

Another curious fact, all Pokemon have a reception field. It was a bubble of presence that psychic types were most proficient at using as a form of radar. Essentially, thought rays would radiate out, and the user can gather information from this. Easier communication, presence awareness, and to certain Pokemon terrain effects. Misty and grassy terrain are results of this field. And I have, albeit small, one of these field as well.

.........…..

The following days passed like that, me working on my thought transmission, building up my reception field to allow easier communication. I never realized till now, but I very much like being able to converse with my fellow lifeforms.

On the seventh day, I was ready to do something that needs to be done. We had just come back from breakfast and I needed meat.

"I need to learn how to hunt."

All three were shocked by my declaration. They looked me up and down, trying to decipher if I was joking or not.

"Look at some point, I will need to leave this mountain. As of this moment, I am a weak scrawny kid with no way of taking care of myself outside of eating berries. Even then, you have to show me which ones are even worth eating." I take a breath. "I am useless to everyone and I don't want to be that way. I want to be strong, I want to explore this world for all that it is worth. I want to be able to defend myself from a rogue Toxicroak. But I can't do that I'm cooped up all day. Please help me." I was bent over on the ground begging at this point.

Ever since that day, all I have felt was fear. It was shoved to the side during this past week, but no more. I need to get strong. I want to be able to protect my team as much as they protect me.

Seeing my resolve, they conceded.

At dawn tomorrow, the Meowstic lead me to a clearing where Oddish like to hang out. The grass was high and I could see leaves scuttling around. I was in my leaf clothes, hiding in some bushes. The branches poked uncomfortably in my skin, but I suppressed it, thinking it was good training.

We watched the Oddish, waiting for one to leave the group. I had a relatively large stick to use as a weapon. At first I wanted a spear, but the Meowstic told me that it was pointless unless the Pokemon was a newborn. That's when I decided to go for good old blunt force trauma.

An hour passed by and one of the Oddish left, probably to find food or something. Stalking it as best as possible, with the Meowstic floating nearby to give support, I tracked it to the river. It was getting a drink.

Slowly I crept up to it, only for it to notice my presence. It turned around and flung a blue powder all over my body. Surprised at my failed ambush, I swung at the Oddish, clipping it side as it dodged. Not making a sound, it charged and tackled me.

Falling back, I had to shake the drowsiness from my eyes. Sleep powder was what it had flung at me. Lifting my club, I swung down, letting gravity do most of the work. It hit the Oddish head on, smashing it into the ground.

Keeling from the exhaustion, The last images I saw, were of Meowstic lifting me with psychic and carrying me home. I hope I at least finished of the Oddish.

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon in any shape or form.