//------------------------------// // (3) - Ponygeist // Story: A Pokemon Problem // by Solecism //------------------------------// A Pokemon Problem (3) - Ponygeist Of all the six-hundred plus Pokemon that I could've turned into, why a Beldum? I mean, what else could I be? A Duskull maybe? A Magnemite perhaps? Based on everything I learned about weight though, Beldum was the most obvious choice. Of course, I'm not complaining: Beldum were absolutely terrible before they evolved, but when they did... you'd better watch out, because a flying freakin' TANK would be up in your business before you could stop it. And since I was a Beldum, that meant --by logical progression-- I would become a... Mother. Fucking. Metagross. I pondered those thoughts for a while, imagining myself stroking my chin with a thoughtful expression while I did so. I wasn't actually sure if I could evolve, since the television show had been pretty adamant that it required two Beldum to meld into a Metang, and two Metang to create the psychic tank that was Metagross. Then again, videogames didn't follow that logic, so whether or not I could evolve was anyone's guess. Heck, maybe being in Equestria made it so I can't evolve at all. I feel that I could've --and would've-- contemplated the aftermath and backlash of coming to Equestria for much longer had Morning Dew not interrupted my train of thought. "Come on, little guy. Let's go." Go? Where were we going? I tried to communicate my confusion by tilting my head and blinking. I'm not sure how well that translated. Either I was a master at Pokemon charades or Morning Dew was simply able to anticipate my question. "We're going to see my friend. He should be able to tell me what you are and where you belong," said Morning Dew. I mentally shrugged. I doubt that this friend could really tell me anything useful that I didn't already know. I knew that Beldum lived in the mountains and ate minerals and metals, but which types of mountains and which types of minerals and metals? At least, I reasoned, I didn't have any natural predators. I didn't think that a two-hundred pound, two foot long hunk of metal tasted very good. I concentrated a little bit more, and found myself hovering at eye-level once more. Morning Dew trotted over to the door and ushered me out, closing it behind her. I was finally getting used to hovering around: it was like having to relearn a vital body function, like breathing, all over again. Once you got it the first time, your body just kinda did it on auto-pilot after that. The unicorn pony kept up a brisk trot, one that I was easily capable of keeping pace with. Let me tell you, flying is a hell of a lot easier than walking, that's for sure. Within five minutes of traveling time, I was doing barrel rolls and loop-de-loops in my new form. I ended up crashing into the ground more than half the times I tried, but that wasn't the point. After only half an hour of flying, I began to hear a lot more sounds than the simple clip-clop of Morning Dew's hooves hitting the hard-packed ground. I heard the steady, rhythmic pounding of metal-on-metal in the form of a blacksmith, the turbulent splashing of a raging river, and above all, the sounds of many ponies talking, laughing, and living. Now I just had to wait for when we actually got there. Honestly, I wasn't too happy with my vastly improved hearing: sure, it was useful, but it made telling any form of distance nigh-impossible. Morning Dew didn't talk to me before we got there, not that I blame her. One-sided conversations are never pleasant. When we finally arrived at the small village, the noise of the blacksmith was almost deafening. I could barely hear myself think, let alone listen to what the ponies were saying. I was on the receiving end of strange glances, but those quickly disappeared when the ponies seemed to realize that I was with Morning Dew. She seemed to be well-known and respected: ponies of all shapes and sizes chatted with her. It made me wish that I could hear what was being said. Morning Dew spoke with one pony, a yellow earth pony with an orange mane, for longer than the others. I had the feeling that she was asking something, and by the downcast look on her face, I figured that the answer was no. Man, having hearing like this sucks. I can't even think with all this freakin' noise! Maybe that's just part of being a Beldum... ...Now that I think about it, that might be the reason why Beldum are so rare in the wild: they hate noise, and the people that make them. I can certainly relate. The unicorn led me to a house that was slightly larger than the others and decorated much more fancifully, yet still made from the same dark logs as Morning Dew's hut. As soon as the door was shut behind us, I felt an immediate relief when the infernal racket the town was making ceased abruptly. I wasn't sure how the house was soundproofed that well. Magic perhaps? Anyway, we ended up waiting in that house for quite a while for Morning Dew's 'friend' to show up. I was certainly startled when the door was thrown open and a tall, gangly unicorn wearing some really freaky voodoo-type stuff barged in like he owned the place. He did own the place, but that's beside the point. "Second Sight!" cried Morning Dew from her position in one of the room's chairs. I have no idea how they manage to sit in them: they look about as comfortable as a piece of abstract sculpture art. "Hello, Ms. Dew," the newcomer, Second Sight, replied as evenly as he could manage while out of breath. "I believe that discerning what your little mysterious creature here actually is..." He pointed a hoof in my direction. "...Will have to wait." "What? Why?" Second Sight took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Almost immediately, the necklace of tiny, carved skulls that he wore began to rotate and hum with a strange frequency. The creepiest part was when the tiny eye sockets of each skull began to glow a deep, pure blue; the same colour as his coat. "There is a very angry spirit in a nearby cave, one that has resisted all of my attempts to put it to rest," he stated matter-of-factly as the necklace stopped doing whatever it was that it was doing. "The strangest part is that it doesn't seem malevolent; only confused. I would leave this powerful spirit alone if it wasn't so close to the village." I just hit a freakin' gold mine of information from this scraggly-looking pony. Not only did Equestria have spirits and the like, but he was some sort of shaman, one that got rid of the things that go bump in the night. That wasn't even mentioning the fact that this 'confused' spirit could quite possibly be somebody else that was lucky --or unlucky, depending on how you looked at it-- enough to turn into a Ghost-type Pokemon. If I had a mouth, I would've grinned at picking up the first signs of a trail. I was eager to head off, but Morning Dew insisted that I stay right where I was. "No, little guy," she said softly, yet firmly when I tried to follow her out the door. "Second Sight and I are just going to deal with a little problem, and then we'll be back to find out your origins." I tried to squeeze my way out the top corner right before the door closed, but all I got for my trouble was a one way trip back inside, courtesy of her magic. "No!" Morning Dew sternly chastised. "Bad, little guy! Stay!" What, am I a dog now? A floating, two-hundred pound, solid metal dog? The door closed with a resounding and final click. Oh, no you did not. There was no way that I was going to let Morning Dew and Second Sight deal with what could possibly be a friend (or non-friend) that was just as confused as I was, if not more so. I didn't want injured people or ponies on my conscience. I hovered around, looking for any windows that I could fly out of. Strangely, there weren't any; just the same wooden walls. I bonked my face against the wall a couple of times, and was surprised by the solidity of the house. I ran into it a little harder... ...And bounced off, not even leaving a dent. What the hell? Did this house serve as a jail cell as well? Gritting my non-existent teeth, I concentrated until I felt the familiar feeling of complete and utter rage. I had an inkling regarding the random fit of anger, and if I was correct, it would be my ticket out of my prison. I held the feeling of boiling rage until my vision went red, then released it. I shot towards the wall, straight as an arrow, looking for all the world like some sort of deadly Nerf gun bullet painted bluish grey. The instant that I impacted into the wooden logs, I felt a flash of pain twinge through my otherwise numb body. Nobody was more surprised than me regarding what happened next. I was trying to punch a hole through the house, but I didn't mean to cause the entire goddamn wall to turn into woodchips. A cloud of smoke had formed around me, obscuring my vision. I moved my sole opposable limb and found myself to be laying in a pile of the decimated wood. I felt extremely dizzy, and with each passing second, I could feel a very painful ache throbbing throughout my entirety. Man, using Take Down hurts like hell. I forced myself into hovering once more, doing so with an almost drunken swagger. I could hear the sounds of ponies slowly coming to investigate the disturbance. I didn't blame them: I would stay away from something that could cause that much damage while being so small. With some brief concentrating, I rose a couple dozen feet higher into the air, high enough to get out of the smoke cloud. I quickly scanned in all the cardinal directions, looking for Morning Dew and Second Sight. I was only trapped in the house for a couple of minutes, so they couldn't have gone far. I didn't see them. I looked everywhere, but I couldn't see the two unicorns. I panicked for a little while before I realized that the blacksmith pony had stopped the infernal pounding of metal on metal. I listened as carefully as I could, drowning out the rushing water of the nearby river and the ambient chatter of the confused and frightened ponies below me. Clip-clop-clip-clop. Eureka! ...Now, which direction? As if answering my question, my body pointed in the direction that I knew --for some reason-- was north-west, like I was some sort of compass needle. ... ...Well that's convenient. Maybe I play solitaire too. With a plan of motion established, I zoomed off towards the ponies, the cave, and possibly one of my fellow humans.