It is said that only humans could be so foolish as to turn the song and dance of the Maractus – a terrifying ritual used to drive flying-type predators away – into something fit for festivals and celebrations. Yet much to the chagrin of Unova's bird keepers, humanity has succeeded in doing precisely that, and rare is the Unovan holiday today without a band of Maractus to provide the entertainment.
On the ground, a Maractus dance indeed suggests jubilation, for it is full of music and energy. It is necessary to view a Maractus dance from the air, however, to see its true intent, and many a balloonist, hang glider, or pokemon rider has learned the hard way why flying and levitating pokemon find these dances so terrifying. For although on the ground their movements seem harmless and their noises almost musical, the mysterious sounds which the Maractus produce grow louder with height until they become an ear-splitting screech, and the shapes in which these pokemon move recall Giratina, Yveltal, and other cruel and awful gods of yore. At the beginning of every Maractus performance, flying pokemon exit their nests and fly off in the other direction; this is not the joyous release of birds that many mistake it for, but a terrified flock of pokemon convinced their lives are in jeopardy and trying desperately to escape.
The Maractus performances have in recent years been phased out from some of Unova's largest celebrations, or moved to their end or beginning. This is not because of any newfound regard for the emotions of flying pokemon, but because such large ceremonies frequently receive aerial coverage on television, and blimp operators and photographers are no less terrified of the Maractus' song and dance.