Disclaimer: Pokémon is owned by The Pokémon Company and was created by Satoshi Tajiri et al. any recognizable content is credited to the original creators. The author earns no profit for this fanfiction.

And hey! If you like rap music, you should check out Intuition & Equalibrum, a self-titled collaborative album; I wrote almost the entirety of this chapter while listening to it on repeat. As a similarity to my story, the lyrics are in first person present tense for the most part, too.

On Writing

On Action

The wind is rushing inland, pulling in air currents from above the water, bringing with it a salty scent. Leaves above and grass below rustle in their place or flatten against the ground. I'm on Route 121 facing a trainer and his Pokémon.

I remove my Pokédex from my bag, aiming the camera at the grass-type opposite Braixen and I. Sceptile, the Forest Pokémon. It is known to protect the forest, providing restoration when necessary. Reptilian in nature, this Pokémon is very fast. There's a few images of Sceptile on the screen along with the text.

"You ready? Scepter is very excited to kick some ass, he's just chomping at the bit." I'd say that applies to the both of them.

"Yeah. Braixen get into a defensive position," she removes the lit twig from her tail, using it to focus as she controls the air. Her ring of fire ignites quickly, but it's low and thin so that she can see. The other trainer's Sceptile tenses, waiting for a command, "Keep Sceptile from getting close and be ready for his speed."

"Reactionary huh? Well, Scepter and I know what to do about that. My name is Adam by the way," his Sceptile moves out from under the shade of the trees, "Alright Scepter, we better test that shield. Sunlight Swipe!" With the light shining on the grass-type I can see his skin shimmering, what looks like motes of energy absorbing into the glowing blades on his wrists.

Having reached some arbitrary point in power build-up, the monster dashes at us slashing his arms through the air. Projectiles of curved light fly forward, banishing shadows and burning leaves drifting downward. As they reach Braixen the fire flares upward, but they do little to ward off the attack, slamming into the fox as she loses her footing, rolling along the grass back toward me.

"Braixen!" The move did a lot of damage, and she's barely able to stand back up, the flame shell nowhere to be found, "You can't take another hit like that, circle around while firing back," she runs off to the left forming and blasting fireballs at Sceptile along the way. Already a slow Pokémon and combining with the wounds she's taken, her speed is barely more than a jog. In contrast, Sceptile doesn't even need to worry about Braixen's retaliation. With a burst of speed the opponent appears in front of my fire-type, smashing his right fist into her chest knocking her out instantly as her body is thrown against the tree behind her. Once she's laying still on the ground I return her to her 'ball.

"Good job Scepter! Do you have another Pokémon, trainer?"

"Yeah, I have a Frogadier," I release her next, "Frogadier, use evasion tactics," she jumps into the tall grass on the right side, hiding quickly "Sceptile is only a little slower than you, you'll need to rely on hit and run maneuvers." My water-type, even though she's capable of Special attacks, prefers a physical style.

Adam's Pokémon stares into the grass alert for any sort of movement indicating position. The frog is in her element (not literally though), easily invisible to the grass-type. A sound is heard near to Adam's side of the road, something like a thunk. As the Sceptile jerks in the direction and moves straight ahead, Frogadier runs out from my side and lands a spinning kick against the back of his head, jumping off into the shaded branches of a tree near the water.

"Scepter! It's in the tree to your left!" He turns up to the tree and quickly climbs it looking for Frogadier. But he doesn't find her. She finds him.

Sceptile is launched from up above and lands on the path again, laying on his side. I see a glimpse of dark-blue skin as it splashes into the water. It's obvious to all of us where she has gone and Sceptile stands back up to investigate.

"No, Scepter, get back!" It's too late. A large wave of water inexplicably climbs out of the bay and crashes into the grass-type pushing him into the tree, tumbling all the way. Sceptile is dazed but conscious while he gets to his feet, "Alright, that's it! Use Solar Beam into the water!"

"Frogadier, get out of there!" But it's not enough. Frogadier's hearing is distorted by the water surrounding her. If only I was able to project my thoughts to my Pokémon, but I can't do that yet.

Light gathers at the space in front of Scepter's gaping mouth, similar to his use of Sunlight Swipe earlier. As the move charges up I can see Frogadier beginning to swim out but the attack is ready. A huge beam of light bursts into the water causing an instant flash boil. Steam explodes outward sending Frogadier flying with it, pounding into the bank at the end of the arc. She's unconscious.

I sigh as I put away my second Pokémon into her 'ball, "That's it for my team."

"Sweet! You did great Scepter!" Adam is celebrating as he returns the grass-type. Now that the fights are over we meet halfway in the middle of our battlefield. Everything is slightly worse for wear as compared to before, but there's no major damage. The water has filled in the space leftover from the explosion, and the bank and path is soaked from the earlier wave but it's nothing that won't turn back to normal in time.

I've been ignoring Adam for the most part as our Pokémon struggled against one another (My own worked harder admittedly; by necessity mind you) but now I get a closer look at him. He has curly red hair and he's rather big, with wide shoulders and being around six feet tall. His deep voice fits his appearance.

"Your Frogadier was doing a pretty good job for a while there, but your fire-type was a bad match for my Scepter. It was a good battle though. What's your name?"

"My name is Theodore, nice to meet you. Here is your 500 Pokédollars. Congratulations." I really need to get going and I also want to use the revives on my Pokémon. This could be a good opportunity to further my research . . . but I don't like Adam.

"Hey, don't be a spoilsport Theodore . . . but I know when I'm not wanted. Good luck to you on your journey anyway!"

"Thanks. See ya later." He's really not a bad guy now that I think about it, but I still want to move on. So I walk the path, heading toward the pier and from there to Mt. Pyre.

"Welcome sir! The ferry will be crossing Lilycove Bay heading to Route 123 and stopping at Mt. Pyre in 10 minutes. Will you be using the service?" There's a woman in a uniform standing in front of the gangway leading up to port side.

"Yeah, um, what's the fee?"

"That'll be 500 Pokédollars, sir." After handing her the requisite payment I climb aboard and head to the bow. Looking out over the water I can see that the weather is clear and sunny. It's not hugely relevant to the ship because it's not a sailboat but it's still preferable to have nice conditions.

The ferry isn't a large one, since it's designed for foot traffic. This part of Hoenn doesn't have a large population, the biggest city here being Lilycove, so there's not many people that need the service. But it's enough that the Safari Zone company can make a tidy profit on those that need to get across. Not that they're bad or greedy for making money off of it, people like me wouldn't even be able to go to Mt. Pyre in the first place. Some trainers have Pokémon like Lapras that can take them over water but those kind aren't common.

Now that I've found a spot with a nice view I release all my Pokémon. Then I grab two revives out of my bag, and place them both against Braixen and Frogadier. A revive is a compound of specific minerals naturally taking the shape of an octahedron. They absorb into the body of a Pokémon and they become conscious once again. There's another variety that allows for full recovery, but they're rare and expensive. One thing that's odd is that the revive only works for Pokémon, same for potions, which uses the same minerals as the revive but is liquefied instead. Those are used for healing while the Pokémon is conscious.

After Braixen and Frogadier wake up, I pick up Ralts to allow her to see over the low wall on the edge of the hull, "You two did a really good job, you know. Don't feel bad for losing against the Sceptile, they were a tough team," their frustration is obvious as Braixen hunches over and Frogadier stares out at the water. We aren't really that used to losing to be honest. It might just be that we've faced a lot of amateurs in our time on the journey, but most of the trainers we've fought against generally aren't capable of the teamwork that we are, "Not everyone we fight against is gonna be a cakewalk. Like with any gym leader even, there'll be Pokémon and their trainer's that we can't handle. For what you two were up against, there really wasn't anything more we could've done."

They aren't happy, but I think they'll be alright.

Like most graveyards, Mt. Pyre is a dreary place. In addition, it's within a cave system on a mountain in the middle of a bay, leaving it filled and covered in mist at most times of the day. People have overtaken the mountain so there is an infrastructure providing lighting and other necessities but there have been issues in the past. It used to be common that you would be attacked by ghost-type Pokémon as you were visiting the graves, but now there's an ingenious shield in place provided by dark-type Pokémon preventing ghost-types from attacking visitors.

It's still possible to battle and capture ghost-types here, you just have to be in one of the designated zones. I'm not here to add Pokémon to my team though.

Looking around I see an older man staring down at a grave. He's probably past the end of his middle age but it's hard to tell. He has deep but few wrinkles and black hair streaked with white at the sideburns. His posture is impeccable and he's honestly kinda intimidating. On the other hand, out of everyone here I think he's the most likely to answer my questions.

"Ah, excuse me sir, I was hoping you wouldn't mind talking to me about your Pokémon? I'm an author writing a book on the bond between a trainer and their Pokémon." His eyes are dark and he's staring at me while processing my question.

"Are you now? I suppose I can spare some time for your interview." He looks back down at the grave. The epitaph states:

Here lies Atlas, an Aggron

His loyalty was unbound, His love unfettered

He is and always will be missed

(year of capture) 1967-2018 (year of death)

The Aggron died only five years ago. A Pokémon's lifespan is comparable to a human's, as Atlas shows. 51 is actually rather young, being near the early end of the natural lifespan for Pokémon and people. For Pokémon it varies by the sub-species but most live up to at least 80 years. Life for humans has been slowly extending over the years, especially as our standard of living improves. You'd think that a Pokémon's standard isn't very healthy because they're constantly in battle, for trained Pokémon at least, but they still live for as long as people do. It's assumed that their energy is what allows them to prevent permanent damage in trainer fights.

"What is your name, sir?"

"You can call me Mr. Gray. So, what do you want to know?"

"Well, first, can I ask you if Atlas was yours?" It could be that the Aggron was his wife's or something. I don't know.

"Yes, Atlas was one of my first captures. Before him I had an Absol, Prometheus. He's still alive today, actually." I'm so glad he's not one of those people that you have to drag the answers out from.

"That must make you one of the second generation trainers, is that right? Oh, and do you mind if I record your answers?" I've already taken a digital voice recorder out, showing it to him before turning it on.

With his approval I repeat the questions from earlier and then he moves onto my last question, "Yes, I am one of the second generation trainers. I started on my journey after my father gave me an Absol he caught. I was . . . 14 at the time, I think."

In 1925 the modern Pokéball was created. We still use a similar design today, with different varieties of course. The Pokéball is the device that changed absolutely everything. Prior to its invention there were trainers but they used primitive contraptions made from apricorns, a fruit native to Johto (a region east of Hoenn; they both belong to the same island nation). These primeval Pokéballs were made by hollowing out an apricorn and inserting the energy conversion crystal (which is still used in modern Pokéballs). Where the cupule (for an acorn this would be the bit at the top that is darker and in a cup-shape) was, a lens is placed and for activation they used a simple push switch.

Once the Pokéball was made its production and distribution quickly became widespread and eventually lead to the creation of the Pokémon Alliance, which was originally a corporate syndicate. Today the Pokémon Alliance is an international quasi-government with a huge influence over societies all across the world. In the beginning they started a campaign to boost sales of those Pokéballs, the Pokémon Journey Movement. People who went out and explored the region, capturing Pokémon along the way, became Pokémon Trainers. And thus, we're back to where we started. Mr. Gray is a second generation trainer because he started his Journey around 20 years after the inception of the Movement. A literal generation even, because his own father was of the first generation.

"So, what sort of trainer were you? Did you do the gym challenge? Join the early Pokémon leagues?"

"I was never one for the competitions. I rarely even battled other trainers. No, my Pokémon and I simply traveled the regions, exploring the world around us. We saw the wonders and the beauty to be found in nature."

"For how long were you on your journey?"

"I traveled until I met my wife in 1981. After that, we both settled down on Route 123 here in Hoenn."

"While you were traveling it was only you and your Pokémon right? No other people? Would you say that made the experience any worse or better?"

"Yes, just my Pokémon and I. There were a lot of different people and Pokémon that we met along the way but we never traveled with anyone else. That didn't make it any worse. I never felt lonely, and it didn't matter that I was the only human. My Pokémon have always understood me on a level that no others do, except for my wife. They're my greatest friends. I felt privileged to be able to witness the world around us with those amazing creatures."

"Besides Atlas and Prometheus, what Pokémon did or do you have?"

"Epimetheus, a Slaking and Menoetius, a Salamence."

"Thank you Mr. Gray. Do you mind if I use your names and story in my book?"

"No, you can write about us if you'd like." Mr. Gray is an odd fellow, but his presence seems to demand a certain amount of respect.

"Thank you sir. Have a good day!" Giving him a nod, I move on.

Climbing up to the summit is not an easy task. Once I've exited the caves and I'm walking along the path upward, there's a lot less people around. There are still tombstones along the mountainside but they're much older. Today most Pokémon (Mt. Pyre is exclusively a burial site for Pokémon) are placed in the caves.

Now, I'm not unhealthy, but Mt. Pyre is no hill. And there are some people that bike up this mountain. Madness.

The old site is also entirely a designated zone. There's no shield keeping the ghosts away, so now I might come across a ghost-type. Or other Pokémon, I suppose.

Ghost-types are weird. Really weird. Unlike psychic-types there's little known about them. And for as little as we do know about psychics? That should tell you something about the mysterious nature of ghosts. What is known is that those who specialize in them really don't care to tell you about what it's like. There's something . . . different about ghost-type users.

Everyone has seen one of them. Besides the Elites and gym leaders who use them, there are the casual trainers. Those who are somewhat . . . absorbed in their Pokémon. I'm all for a deep and meaningful relationship with your Pokémon but those specialists, across the board, are all reclusive. On the other hand there are the trainers that dabble in ghost-types. Just one or two ethereal Pokémon. They don't say anything either.

What is it about the ghostly Pokémon that changes the trainer? Is there really a change? Are ghost-types blackmailing trainers?! Maybe that's going too far. Regardless, no one really knows. At least, not those who don't have a ghost-type. So, as a result, I'm hesitant to take a ghost onto my team.

Eventually I make it up to the top. All around are ruined brown-stone structures. Leading up is a set of staggered stairs that allows for one to rest on any of the platforms of the altered mountain. The summit is a pyramid shape of sorts, and at the final upper platform is a stone altar. Or, it might as well be an altar. Religion is an odd subject.

Anyway, on that stone table are two Orbs. One red, and one blue. There's a story behind those objects. It's said that these Orbs, (which, if the tales are to be believed, have been around since the dawn of time) are solely responsible for the settling of the lands and the waters. Long ago, two Pokémon fought. They were polar opposites, one representing the heated earth and the other the deep ocean. Groudon, the champion of magma, battled against Kyogre, the guardian of the seas, for the right of dominance over the planet. But, in spite of the raging elementals, and the chaos of the time, the two polyhedrons came into being. Thus the red orb calmed Kyogre and the blue settled Groudon. Somehow.

The ancient broken buildings and the faded paint seem to speak the truth to that story though. At least the truth in the belief of those stories from times long ago. See, this is why the legends fascinate me so much. The tales may make you scoff in disbelief, yet the validation of the absolutely amazing abilities of Pokémon contradict that skepticism. Who really knows?

People from time since past knew where to place their revered objects. With the height of this monument I can see quite a lot from my vantage point. To the east is Lilycove, and beyond that the ocean. In the far off distance I can see a small speck, Mossdeep City, I believe. It's a small island and where you'll find the psychic-type gym for the Hoenn region. To the north, past the Safari Zone, is a vibrant forest, almost a jungle even. On the west, over the treetops, is a huge active and volcanic mountain. Mt. Chimney. At its base I can see the barest hints of a desert. Not that it's small, I just can't see it too well. Finally on the other side of the peninsula (Route 123) is a small smattering of islands.

Hoenn has a strange climate.

Not being one to keep a sight like this to myself, I release my Pokémon. They're lucky, getting all the benefits of the view without any of the effort. They make all the appropriate sounds of appreciation, looking at what interests them. I take a closer look at the two relics.

Orb is a misnomer. Although they are their designated colors, they aren't orbs. They're better described as polyhedrons, but I don't know the exact kind you might call them. The blue Orb, with its many reflective faces, is reminiscent of the shape of a sphere. The red Orb has two tapered ends around a bulging middle. The top is thinner than the bottom. And, in the center of the surface is the Greek symbol omega. For the blue Orb, there's the symbol for alpha. Each symbol is a brighter color than the rest of the shape.

Greek symbolism being found in Hoenn is unexpected (just like Mr. Gray) but what do I know? It's just one of those unanswered questions for the ages.

It's late. Right now the sun is setting (improving the view even more) and I'm getting pretty tired.

Creepy as it is to be in a graveyard at night, I decide to make camp away from all the tombstones and ruined buildings. Finding a flat surface on this mountain wasn't as difficult as you might think (the incline is comparatively slight anyway).

I remove the bag from my back (rolled up tent and sleeping bag attached at the bottom end) and set up the small tent. Also different from what you might think, my Pokémon and I all fit within with plenty of room leftover (try not to think about it; it's . . . special. Like Pokéballs are). Once we've all found our comfortable positions we fall asleep.

Since becoming a psychic my dreams have changed dramatically. Now I can remember everything that happens. And what happens . . . well. Imagine for yourself what it'd be like if you could share a dream with someone. Where everything you contribute is given to the other, and vice versa. You aren't the only dreamer. Forms that I would never imagine to be my own Pokémon are there, and I'm sure I come across as entirely different as well. It's still a dream. Nothing really makes sense, even though it's more vivid. Our shifting self-images define our bodies in our sleep, and the only way to tell someone imaginary from another dreamer is this instinctive gut-feeling that that's another sentient being.

Most importantly, there are four of us. So, as you can tell, this isn't normal. The worst part (not that there's much that's bad about it; it's rather fascinating) is that I get wet dreams. But luckily, like when I keep my mind from mixing with Ralts', I can block the others off. It's not a full wall, they can still sense my emotions, which is really embarrassing, and I can still sense theirs. They're curious and they wonder why I'm not really there anymore. It's better this way though. I can't even imagine trying to explain human sexuality to a Pokémon. It seems like something I should be able to control, but like normal dreams, arousal in psychic dreams is impossible to stop.

Tonight I'm having another wet dream. Having closed off my Pokémon I allow the process to carry through. You've heard that people have more than one dream a night, right? It's true. That means, that when it's over, I can join my Pokémon in our imaginary explorations in a more normal setting.

I'm at the lab in Lilycove. The furnishing of the room isn't quite right but . . . Fern is.

"Ted! I'm so happy to see you!" She rushes forward, and wraps her arms around me, "Ah, you were amazing! I was watching you on TV. I especially loved that moment when your Greninja crushed your opponent's Blaziken. It was an amazing aerial stomp!" She shakes her head, black ponytail swishing back and forth. A scent permeates the air, deep but lightly sweet, and I can't quite identify it, "So how does it feel to be the champion of the Ever Grande Conference?"

"It's . . . wonderful, Alice," I'm holding her in my arms, feeling her form press against my own, "I'm glad I won, and I'm happy to see you, too." Her button up shirt is a dark green, to compliment her bright eyes. She's wearing a black skirt, knee-length. Her open white lab coat completes the image, hanging over her curvaceous body. Looking down her back at her smooth legs I can't help but react.

"Mm, it's so good that you're here," She retreats from the hug but takes my hands instead as she tugs me around, "Come here, let's talk. You need to tell me everything." Now she sits down in one of the chairs in the corner, having set the other close to her own.

I settle in the seat, and she's still holding onto my hands. She's looking into my eyes encouraging me to speak, "Well, it wasn't easy, but we did it. It took a lot of work for my team but we managed. Honestly, though, I'm just relieved to be back in Lilycove, with you."

"Awh, Ted, that's so sweet. I missed you too, y'know?" Her thumb is sliding against the back of my hand, and I'm falling into her eyes. There really is a light in there, a bright, wonderful, and lovely exuberance. When she smiles the corners crinkle upward and that green shines, "You were so handsome, so powerful, commanding your Pokémon and destroying the competition." There's a giggle and her dulcet tones fleet across my hearing.

Her hand pulls away from my own and meets the side of my head. Warm palm against my cheek and soft fingers brush the hair at my temple, "Alice . . . you're beautiful."

"Always straightforward, aren't you, Ted?" she laughs and leans forward, and all of a sudden that scent from earlier is everything, overpowering, "I like that about you." Her breath streaks across my face, her eyes closing in.

Our lips meet in the middle, and I'm grabbing onto her shoulders. Her hand slides to the back of my neck, gripping, and the other slips against my side. I pull her against me, practically holding her in my lap. Right then I hear a delicate moan, and I'm kissing her even harder than before.

"Alice!" She's writhing against me, desperately pressing into my chest, "I– I need . . ." I'm standing up now, my hands holding her up from behind, "I need you. Badly." Those deep, fierce, green eyes are all that I can see.

"Yes! You can have me, I promise!" Her lips meet my own again and–

–I hear another moan. This one, unlike before, is real.

"Misdreavus!" A set of teeth is biting into the hair at the back of my head, and I can feel the wet sensation of saliva. Fighting against my sleeping bag I try to push up from the position on my stomach.

"Gah! Wha– What is that?" The perpetrator is no longer behind me. She's now floating in front of the opening of my tent, and my Pokémon who are now waking notice her.

This Pokémon is definitely a ghost-type. She's a dark-blue color, with a small amount of pink highlights in various places. Her face is actually rather large, perfectly spherical. Underneath that head is a necklace of glowing red orbs on a bottom-half that accounts for a third of her two foot length. The shape looks almost like the ruffled end of a square cloth stuffed and tied to look like a ghost. She has thick, solid, extensions from the back of her head, sort of like hair. I can count at least six with two in particular flowing from above her eyes. Those red eyes with yellow sclera are rolling up into the back of her head in what looks like . . . pleasure?

Her continuing moans seem to indicate that.

By now my own Pokémon have exited the tent and are attacking Misdreavus. Braixen shoots a fireball forward, and it explodes against the startled ghost. She shrieks, but is cut off when Frogadier's fist slams into her face. I can see Ralts is about to help, her eyes glowing blue (has she finally learned telekinesis?)

"Wait! Stop!" They all do, and I can see that Misdreavus is nearly out cold already.

"Mis . . . dreavus?" Her voice is weak, not at all like her earlier moans. What was that about anyway?

"Uh . . . are you okay?" I don't know what I'm doing. I wouldn't understand her if she answers and it's not like she'll really be hurt anyway, not unless my Pokémon keep attacking once she's fainted. But, the Pokémon is so . . . feminine. Maybe it's because that dream was interrupted, or maybe it's because of how she's acting, but I can't help but be sympathetic.

"Mis . . . Misdreavuuus!" She has a decidedly naughty grin on her face, and my Pokémon are instantly angry again, not that they were happy before.

"Alright, I don't know exactly what you said, but . . ." I can't believe I'm doing this. I turn to my backpack and pull out a Pokéball, "Do you . . . do you want to join my team?" She floats closer to me, right up into my face really, and ignores the indignant Pokémon behind her.

"Mis!" Her red eyes stare into my own. How odd. Then, I tap the 'ball against her. The Pokéball shakes in my hand one, two and three times. It stops.

What have I done?

Author's Note: I'm actually rather nervous about how you all will take this chapter. For one, there's the battle, and for two, there's the dream. Tough stuff, I tell you. So I hope you guys will give me a review, and tell me how I did!

Also, regarding the sexual content and the pairing for my story. This fanfic, in spite of the dream, will be a Human x Pokémon story. More than that, it's a harem fic. But, like I've stated in my summary there will be no lemons. No explicit sex. I'll endeavor to keep the content to the level that is depicted in this chapter.