Since this will no doubt catch the eyes of a few of my followers, who will no doubt be concerned, this is not a replacement deal. I'm still working on my other fiction, but it's a bit slow going since there are so many routes to take with it. So, while I figure that one out, I thought a different work might keep the rest of you busy. Probably not the best idea, but it's what I got.

As always, reviews are loved and I can't wait to hear what you all think of Adlien, the newest addition to my list of personal characters. Tell me what you like and what irks you!

Univerce

Sweet Escape

The woods are my absolute favorite place to be. As a result, my father always took me camping for every birthday of mine and whenever there was a special occasion coming up. Such occasions included family reunions and school holidays. Yes, we ran away from the family reunions, but you would too if every one of your cousins mocked you for not having your own pokemon yet. It was a miracle my mother even had her own, considering how she felt about the way people kept them lately.

"They're nothing more than weapons, now," she'd huff when the topic is brought up. "Kids know nothing about them and treat them like toys. And what do the professors do? They let them!" Classic nonsense from a coordinator.

According to Dad, though, "They may be training them to fight, sure, but if they sing and dance to a different number, I say let 'em!" A slightly brainless fighter to the end, despite Mom's opinion.

Thanks to the two warring opinions of my parents, my views on pokemon are a little stranger than what others would think. By 'stranger,' though, I don't mean that no one can understand the view. More like they wouldn't think of it until someone else brought it up to be seen. Unlike my mother's beliefs, fighting seems like a natural part of raising a pokemon to me. And unlike my father's, pitting them against another person's pokemon just to see them battle seems like nothing short of cruelty.

So where exactly is my stance on the matter? Well, the way my eyes see it, the pokemon will fight when they want to or feel the need to. They will perform little shows if they see fit and play like children when they choose. If they feel like hiding from me for a little while, they can, and if they feel like playing tricks on me, they can. Should my pokemon, whenever I manage to actually have one, want to feel some love, then love is what they shall get, be it from me or whoever they like. Even when a pokemon under my care decides to go to someone else instead of staying with me, that is their own decision and not mine to make. Just like with human beings, a pokemon's life is their own.

Who am I to control every aspect of it?

"Know which pokemon you want?"

"No, Dad. And frankly, I don't think I'll know which one to pick until the second I see them," is my grumbling reply. "Stupid professor won't even let me meet them a few days earlier."

His laugh has me flinching from the volume, and annoyed at how funny he thinks this is. The professor a few towns over sent me a postcard a few weeks ago telling me to get ready to choose a starter. Frankly, a starter sounds kind of terrible and like I'm going to be tossing the poor thing aside later. Just like those starter packs for card games and online multiplayers. How often do those things remain in a person's inventory or deck? The longest I've ever seen is a few months, before a better card of item comes along. It's rather sad.

"Don't worry, kiddo! You'll figure it out, I have no doubt."

"Yeah, yeah," I grumble. "Just like you said last year. And the year before that."

Even sadder is that my journey was supposed to start two years ago, when my ninth birthday came around. And in another few months, my 13th birthday will be coming around to slap me in the face. My journey should have already happened, and my eyes should be set on a third area to travel through.

"Look on the bright side, sweetie," my father sighs. "Your personality will bring you some of the most loyal pokemon for life. I just know it."

"Sure they will."

We finally stop walking as the usual clearing come into view, complete with a dug out hole in center for a fire. Without skipping a beat, we drop our bags and start setting things up, my dad disappearing back into the trees for firewood. My job, like always, is to clean out the fire pit and set the stone in one of the bags up. After that, to check the berry trees around the clearing for anything good. There's usually one or two that are bearing a few dozen fruit. It's kind of amazing how often the trees here seem to flower, bloom and grow whatever berry they give off. Not even apricot trees can bloom that fast, or so my mother says.

I've never actually seen an apricot tree before.

"Alright, then, kiddo. What's today's choice?"

Standing beneath one of the trees, my eyes shift to my dad as he drops a large collection of branches, twigs and leaves next to the fire pit. He crouches next to the dug hole, adjusting a couple rocks, before stuffing a bunch of leaves in the bottom, followed by the branches.

"How do Orans, Pomegs and a few Chestos sound? They're all pretty ripe right now and it'd make a great stew, I think…"

"What about the Pecha tree?" he grins back at me, pulling out a match.

"There's a couple, but it looks like the pokemon in the area decided on that one this time."

"A couple of them would be perfect, sweetie. Gather 'em up."

Despite the dry tastes that Oran and Chesto berries tend to have, the stew made from them all a couple hours later is delicious. Plenty of spice brought out by the 'dryness' balanced with a hint of sweet. My dad is an amazing cook, no doubt. Sitting in front of the fire, Dad starts telling me stories about his adventures when he was a kid, running around with only a couple pokemon, all of whom he still has. For some reason, he didn't bring them this time. That slightly worries me about all the wild ones out here.

"Night, Papa," I sigh, falling back in my spot.

"Night, kiddo," he laughs, appearing a few minutes later above me. "Get some sleep, sweetie. And remember to keep your ears open, too."

A grumble escapes me as an answer before turning over and sighing in content. Grass is soft~.

Even though the idea annoys me, my dad is always right about keeping one's ears open, even in the dead of night. But at the moment, while listening to something rustle around nearby, it's hard to say he's just being paranoid. Wild pokemon in the area tend to enjoy slipping into the campsite every once in a while for the berries, and when we're around whatever's in the bags. But this kind of rustling sounds… jittery? It's definitely off, at the least.

Carefully, hoping whatever pokemon is here doesn't mean any harm, my head turns over. Behind me, rifling through one of our bags, is definitely a pokemon that also looks to be in a rush. Like he's looking for something specific. And judging by the berries we stashed in the bag for breakfast being tossed away, it isn't food. So what does the little guy think he's going to find in a random bag in the middle of the forest if not food? That's almost always what the wild ones looked for before. Interestingly enough, the little guy pulls one of the pokeballs out instead, just a regular one, and starts to play with it.

Time for analysis! Pokemon type: unknown – too dark to see it completely. Pokemon form: quadruped with a tail – weird since four legged pokemon don't usually come around here. Pokemon size: small – a baby who was probably separated from its mother or decided it wanted something to play with. Either that, or it's been about long enough to not need a mother anymore. The little pokemon keeps rolling the ball around, pouncing on it every so often with soft growls and yips. Definitely of the canine variety. That limits things a bit.

"What are you waiting for?" my dad chuckles quietly, a soft poke in my side making me jump. "Go get it."

"But-"

It's surprising when the ball, after a rather vicious pounce, ends up shooting away from the pokemon, bouncing over to us and settling in front of me. The sight of the ball makes me freeze, realizing that it wasn't just an ordinary ball the dog pulled from the bag. It was one of my father's specially made ones, one he made himself. A pure red ball he makes as a special order for only those he believes in and cares for. Society aptly named they're type the 'Cherish Ball.'

Shocking, right? It doesn't even do anything special, except show how people care for their pokemon. Usually they're for after you've caught one and have grown extremely fond of your partner.

As slowly as possible, my hand reaches out and gently picks up the ball, eyes moving to the pokemon standing near the bag. It hasn't moved an inch since the ball rolled over. Strange, since any animal tends to make a break for it when they realize something nearby is awake and possibly dangerous. At least the only threat I could possibly pose is to the canine's freedom.

"Go on, sweetie," my father urges. "Just throw, or toss in your case."

I couldn't help it, couldn't talk myself into it, couldn't bring myself to force the creature into becoming my first partner. Those bred for such are one thing, placed in a pokeball to keep them safe in case of complications in the labs or something. But in the wild, where life is uncomplicated and all a pokemon has to worry about is finding a berry tree and avoiding danger? Not possible for me. And besides, even if this ball in my hand is capable of holding a pokemon, who's to say it's capable of capturing one? My dad doesn't make them for use in the wilds, but as a special ball to transfer a partner into. Changing from the original to the specialty.

"Just toss it."

"No. I don't want to," I mutter crossly, dropping the ball in front of me. "I'm not gonna capture it just because it's there. That's not who I am."

The chuckle from my father has me frowning deeply, looking back at the dog sat near our bags. It hasn't moved an inch since the ball rolled over to me, probably waiting for something else. A little bored with this, I smacked the ball away, sending it rolling towards the pokemon who once more who pounces after it and… hilariously activates the ball's program. To my slight horror, the ball opens and sucks the canine inside without skipping a beat. Seconds later, to my ever growing horror, the ball dings and seals.

Oh god, no! It caught itself!

"Crap!"

"That's hilarious!"

My ears purposely block out my father's laughter.

"So it isn't actually hers?" Nurse joys giggles, taking the ball from my hands.

"No, it isn't," I agree quickly, stamping on my upset father's foot.

After retrieving the ball, I refused to let the dog pokemon inside out until we reached the pokemon center. The two of us argued for a few minutes about the decision to have Nurse Joy release the pokemon when we were gone, but he gave up easily… Even if it did take me hitting him with the ball to shut him up. Not my fault he wouldn't accept my choice. When he woke up this morning, it was with a groan, pout, and a grumble about my violent tendencies despite my view on violence. In my defense, though, it came from him and his battle brain that he can't seem to ever shut off outside of town.

"Alright, then," Nurse Joy chirps, placing the ball behind the counter. "Is there anywhere specific you'd liked me to release him?"

"Just outside of the town, preferably. Away from any other people."

"Not a problem!"

With that, I spin on my heel and stalk out of the center, avoiding the stares of the trainers in the main room. To my nonexistent shock, dad stays behind to talk to Nurse Joy. Striding through the center doors, my eyes trail around lazily, taking in Nacrene City, my home for life since my journey is obviously doomed to never start. Feeling slightly better about the poor pokemon that pretty much caught itself, my feet start to follow the sidewalk home.

Mom's going to love this story.

On the bright side of it all, the short trip out into the forest saved my father and I from spending time with my grandparents. The one's on my mother's side are overbearing and expect me to take after their child simply for being female. On the other hand, my paternal grandparents expect a battler instead, insisting that my temper and tendencies point towards the gyms and their leaders. Frankly, neither of them particularly appeal to me. Not so much as simply wandering around and learning about the world does. In this, maybe the professor is right – taking care of a lab or becoming an expert at pokemon is a better choice. Neither requires battles or contests and both include knowledge of the world as a necessity.

Unsurprisingly, my random pacing stops me in front of the museum once more. The surprise is how late it is – sunset already? This is actually more a habit than anything else. Lenora usually lets me wander through her library whenever my head's out of sorts, and the place has become something of a sanctuary to me. Even though my head isn't actually screwy at the moment, a look through the library doesn't sound like too bad of an idea right now. Although Lenora isn't present in Nacrene city at the moment. Maybe Hawes will let me in anyway.

Surprisingly, the front door is unlocked, a strange occurrence with the museum closed and the new exhibit being set up. But not really my concern. After shrugging it off, my feet carry me inside and towards the new section, intent on finding the man left in charge. Hawes should be finishing up the exhibit right now, since the opening for it was supposed to be today. Another unsurprising thing is that he's only so dependable when his wife isn't around. It takes the both of them to keep the museum going the way they both like it, since Lenora's the unbending backbone and Hawes is the pushover. They're an exhibit all their own.

"Hawes? You in here?"

A loud shriek pierces my ears, making me cringe and slam my hands to cover the now throbbing part of my body. What the hell was that? Turning the corner, my eye land on a brunette with glasses in a suit, holding a sleeping bag and pillow in the middle of the new exhibit's room. With him are a few kids my age holding onto similar sleeping bags and pillows. What the…

"What 'cha doin?"

"Uh, right. You're probably looking for-"

"Lenora isn't here, Hawes. I already know that one. I was actually looking for you – museum door's unlocked and I wanted to spend some time in the library."

The man's face pales slightly, dropping his things as he sprints past me, most likely for the front door. Leaving the door to the museum unlocked isn't something either he or his wife like to find out in the mornings. It sends the both of them into a panic and they close the museum down until the place is searched for every artifact and exhibit that should be present. Usually they don't realize that it's just me slipping into the library in the mornings for some random reading or research. That's okay, though – it's entertaining to watch.

"Who are you?"

My eyes switch away from the darkened hallway towards the others in the exhibit room. The girl strides up with a smile, probably plussed at the presence of another girl. Well, whatever floats her boat, I guess. Dressed in simple clothes, yet with one of the most exaggerated hairstyles I've ever seen, she's definitely from outside of town. Purple hair and darkly tanned skin… Spends a lot of time outside, no doubt.

"Depends. Who's asking?"

She doesn't seem put off by my words either, even though she was supposed to be. Keeps people from badgering me about my life and story. Also keeps them from telling theirs.

"I'm Iris," she grins, reaching into the giant purple mass that is her hair. "And this is Axew!"

Seeing her hand come back out with said pokemon in grasp has my mouth gaping open. Since when do people store their pokemon in their hair? Then again, with how much she has of it, that isn't completely improbable. My mouth fixes itself from gaping to a slight frown as the Axew shivers in her hands, fidgeting and giving me a fearful look. Definitely a dragon type – they don't particularly like me.

"Right…"

"I'm Ash!" one of the boys pipes in, dropping his things off to the side and grinning at me. "And this is my pal Pikachu!"

Said electric mouse leaps up onto the raven-haired boy's shoulder from behind, making an adorable squeak as a greeting. Seems dragon types are the only ones who don't like me. Every other pokemon is either indifferent or doesn't notice my presence. Both dispositions are placed, in my head, under the label 'things in the way of my journey.' Maybe my dad was right earlier.

And my mom is a battler, right?

"My name is Cilan," the other boy follows shortly after, giving a flourishing bow like a butler. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

No introduction for the green-haired one's pokemon? Alright. It keeps me from being completely put off. 'Everyone but you has a pokemon!' Not here they don't, you stupid cousins. Well, not ones that they let follow them around, at least. With their little intros out of the way, though, that leaves me unnamed. And, unfortunately, they did sort of comply with my own question on theirs. Only fair they know my name, right? Stupid mother and her stupid manners.

"I'm Adlien."

"Well, Adlien," Cilan smiles kindly, "what exactly are you doing here at the museum?"

"Library," I huff. "Lenora isn't here right now, so I was going to ask Hawes if it would be alright for me to run through a few of the books. It usually isn't much of a problem, though it's good practice and manners to ask first anyway."

Ash looks a little confused at the idea, although the other two seem indifferent to the topic, with Cilan merely continuing that kind smile. Clearly the kid with the mouse isn't all that into reading while the other two are at least partial to it. Something tells me, though, that the girl isn't as partial as the other boy. Maybe the issue here, though, is that a gym leader lets some kid into her library to read whatever she wants. Most people don't actually know that, though, nor particularly care if they do. It's Lenora's library after all.

"Sorry that took so long," Hawes laughs from the hallway, jogging up to me. "You wanted into the library, right? Sorry, but Lenora locked it up before she left and I don't have the key to it."

"That's alright," I shrug. "What's going on, anyway? You usually don't let anyone in before exhibit openings. And last I checked, you postponed this one, for whatever reason…"

He looks a bit sheepish at that, scratching the back of his head as he looks away at the artifacts and replicas in the room. With the way he's fidgeting under my gaze, something tells me he's gone and done something stupid again. That tends to happen when his wife isn't around for them to keep each other in check. Lenora's probably overworking herself as we speak without her other half to remind her what sleep and food are.

"It's a long story."

"We've got time," I shrug.

"Well…" he trails. "Oh, alright. You know the exhibit was supposed to open today, right? It was actually supposed to open at sunset, actually. But something weird happened with one of the exhibits…"

A sigh escapes me as he hesitates, looking at the others standing in the room.

"A spirit attacked him!" Iris immediately coughs up, looking excited. "It used the dome fossil in one of the exhibits to attack him. He ran right out the front door and straight into us!"

The following sigh from Cilan has my attention switching to him next.

"It isn't a spirit, Iris. It was probably someone playing a prank on the museum."

Ah, the age old battle of science versus superstition. This particular battle of belief should be as fun as watching Hawes and Lenora running through the museum in a panic. And, as another spontaneous thought now points out, will keep me away from my parents even longer. After a few more seconds of debate in my head, I turn to Hawes and hold out my hand.

"Mind if I borrow your transceiver? I need to call my mom real quick."