A Pokemon Problem
(2) - Lifting Weights
I woke up completely alert. It was one of weirdest sensations that I've ever felt: one moment, I was drifting in a sea of endless black, and the next, I was wide awake and ready for whatever the world threw at me.
I knew exactly where I was --a small cottage within a forest, located in the previously-fictional world of ponies.
I remembered the previous night --two nights ago rather, if my internal clock wasn't in need of a tune-up.
And last but not least, I understood what had happened, at least to some extent...
I was, for whatever reason, one of the many creatures that were colloquially dubbed 'Pokemon'.
For some reason, the knowledge that I was in one of the many creatures that had shaped my childhood didn't give me joy, nor did it make me angry. It simply was.
That train of thought make me somewhat nervous, of all things. I wasn't used to feeling so... detached from something as important as having my body broken and melded into another form, turning into a goddamn Pokemon!
Oh. That explains it: I'm in shock.
...
Perfect.
Okay, calm down; everything will sort itself out eventually. I just need to relax, take a chill-pill, and think about this.
But--!
Think!
I decided to take my own advice and just lay quietly while thinking.
Okay, I thought. Since I'm here in Equestria --if this is Equestria-- and I'm now a Pokemon --if I'm actually a Pokemon; I haven't checked yet-- then that means Cindy, Miranda, Ryder, Seth, and Caleb were here too --if they were even transported to Equestria; I don't know if they went to another fandom world-- and that means that the sooner I find everybody, the faster we can all figure out a way out of this mess.
After re-thinking and mulling over what I just thought, I came to the conclusion that I must still be in shock, at least mildly, to even consider any of that without thinking about how I got here in the first place.
Discord was the first thing that came to mind. I dismissed that with being too easy and convenient. Blame the god of chaos, he'd probably say. He certainly has nothing better to do than mess with a bunch of humans.
Plus, he had been 'converted' (I use the term loosely; he's the god of chaos for a reason, y'know) in a fairly recent episode. While I wasn't anywhere near certain that this was a current, up-to-date version of the ponyverse, I had to give the benefit of the doubt.
Trollestia came next, and let me tell you, the idea that she was behind this scared me a hell of a lot more than Discord. I didn't even like her when she came up in stories: I figured it would be absolutely terrifying to even meet her in person. Err, pony. Meet her in pony.
With two of the usual suspects down, I was forced to consider the third option: the Universe itself did this.
Now, when I say Universe, I mean the entire fabric of space, time, reality, and Pinkie Pie. It was plausible, if somewhat confusing, that the Universe wanted to have a little fun with us by dumping our sorry asses in Equestria masquerading as Pokemon.
Eh. I've read stranger things happen. Maybe we're just pieces in a board game. Checkers Game of the Gods, and whatnot.
With my... our patron(s) possibly figured out, I decided to indulge in a little bit of curiosity.
Which Pokemon did I get turned in to?
The question was easier asked than answered. My perspective was much smaller than usual, and I was obviously small enough for a pony to consider me a non-threat. The revelation saddened me a little bit: I was hoping to be something massive, something strong, something that nobody and nopony would want to fuck with.
I viciously looked around. I'm not sure how you viciously look around, but I did.
I stretched and strained, but I couldn't see a single inch of my new body. Agitated, I tried to flex another muscle, like I had with my neck, but to no avail. I still felt completely numb from the neck down, and flexing and wiggling my phantom limbs didn't do anything productive.
It felt kind of funny, though. Kind of like having your arm or leg replaced with a wet noodle.
Disturbing mental image aside, I couldn't see what I was, so I had to solve my conundrum via the process of elimination.
Sight? Check. Possibly singular eye, although there may be more that I'm unable to currently see out of.
Hearing? Double check. Amplified to work at a much higher level than normal.
Taste? Nope. Can't taste anything, can't feel my teeth. Do I even have a mouth? Hopefully: I like eating.
Smell? Negative. Haven't smelt a thing since opening that last can of Pringles.
Touch? Somewhat. While it's not really touch per se, I can feel the textures of things that my body seems to be in contact with, albeit weakly.
So what the hell am I, then? I'm pretty sure I don't need to breathe to continue on living anymore, which must make me some sort of... rock-type perhaps? Do rock-types breathe?
Y'see, these are the kind of questions I wished they answered on the show.
Before I could wonder any more regarding the status of myself, I heard the door open with a resounding creak, followed by a few hoofsteps, then an even louder squeak as the door was closed behind the pony.
I tried to look, but my vision was firmly locked to the headboard of the bed and the dark wood behind it that made up the cabin wall. It was starting to get really annoying, not being able to look where I wanted. I briefly thought that this was how a Metapod must feel, the poor green cocoon.
Oh god, I'M not one of those, am I?!
Frantically, I used every last vestige of strength at my disposal to try only one thing. Something so simple, yet it had been out of my reach since waking up here.
Move.
A small part of me that was still concentrating on the outside world noticed the smiling face of my rescuer enter my line of vision.
Move.
She began speaking. "I see you're up already, little guy. I couldn't find anything anywhere about what you were, so I had to visit a good friend of mine."
Ignore her for now, I told myself. Move.
"He wasn't able to come, but I'm pretty sure that I know how we can get you feeling better now."
MOVE.
I felt something give away. Something that I'd been holding onto ever since waking up in this world, numb and alone.
A memory; anamnesis of my old life, old habits, old functions. But I wasn't myself anymore. I was something else.
With an epiphany coursing through my mind, I learned how to move again. It wasn't a physical movement, nor entirely mental. I simply had to concentrate, to use my willpower to make myself move.
Slowly, I began to rise. The headboard slowly disappeared from my vision to be replaced entirely by the small, interlocking, dark-brown logs that had been used to create the cottage. Next, I made myself turn as ponderously as I could, not wanting to make a mistake. Crashing and burning at this stage would be a real kick in the...
Uh...
Damnit.
Anyway, I drifted lazily around until I was nearly eye-to-muzzle with the pony. She didn't look like she had moved during my entire movement process, and her eyes were wide with wonder and amazement.
"I... I didn't know that you could fly, little guy," she said, laughing nervously. "I wish I had known that earlier. You aren't the lightest... creature that I've had to carry."
Fly? I'm flying?!
The next thing I did was absolutely, completely, and utterly stupid.
I looked down in amazement. Bad idea.
I fell, quickly and straight down into the wooden floor. I must've drifted away from the bed and over the floor. I didn't feel anything from the impact, but I'm pretty sure I made quite the indent. It took me a few seconds to force myself to rise again. It took even more effort the second time, which was obviously going to be problematic if I was going to be getting around in an effective matter.
"Are... are you okay?" asked the pony. I briefly pondered if the pony had told me her name, and it came to me in a flash.
Morning Dew. That was her name.
Wobbling unsteadily a few feet in the air, I found Morning Dew's face and moved my neck up and down in an approximation of a nod. Not entirely true, but I'd rather not have her worrying about me if I can help it.
"You can understand me, little guy?" the unicorn asked, as a flash of confusion scrolled across her face, making her already wide cobalt-coloured eyes even wider.
I nodded again. It felt really strange, having my entire line-of-sight rock back and forth from a simple nod. Was my entire head made up of only one eye? What Pokemon has that feature?!
"Can... can you speak? Talk?"
I hadn't actually considered that. I'm pretty sure that I don't have a mouth, but what's the harm in trying, right?
Almost without thinking about it, I started to give off a strange hum, not dissimilar to an old, dying computer's last splutters before it bit the dust. The sound didn't seem to come from anywhere in particular; it seemed to come from everywhere around me at once.
When all was said and done, I shook my head.
"That's... strange," Morning Dew finally managed to say after a lengthy silence. "I guess that means that you don't need my help, do you? You seem to be all up and running now.
"The only question that's left is...
"What are you?"
I went over every important detail that I could think of in my head. I don't breathe, I have no limbs and one eye, improved hearing, I can fly --or at least, hover-- and I can take a serious beating.
...
Holy shit, I think I'm a Beldum.