“—device functions the same as before… ah. There we go.”
What was a blurry blotch of green and brown refocuses to depict a grassy incline being shot from its peak. A number of Shinx pounce and play with one another in the frame, near a small copse of what look like berry trees. More Pokemon are visible dotting the area: a Wurmple lazily hanging off of a tree trunk, Starly roosting perilously near it, and further back, a lone Ponyta grazing.
Much further in the distance, past a shallow pond, the barest hint of a flickering fire can be spotted; it isn’t clear what’s producing it. It appears to be on the move.
“It’s currently seven-oh--” The voice behind the camera hesitates, but his tone isn’t questioning. He waits exactly three seconds and, confidently, concludes, “seven a.m. I’m in the Hisui region’s Obsidian Fieldlands-- more specifically overlooking the Horseshoe Plains-- hoping to document the behavior of the wild Pokemon here. This research is being conducted in the effort to create a comprehensive Pokedex, though I myself remain unaffiliated with Galaxy Team and its Survey Corps.”
The camera shifts, but settles back after a second. Movement outside of its range changes the lighting just slightly; while it can’t be seen, the sounds suggest that someone has seated themselves at its left side.
“I thought I might also try some… I believe the term is life drawing? As useful as this device is, the images it captures are incompatible with Hisui’s technology, and I’m woefully unqualified to operate Professor Laventon’s camera. Describing a Pokemon wouldn’t be enough for a complete index, and so I’m attempting to fill that gap.” Paper shuffles off to the side and, when it stops, the man sighs quietly. “Emphasis on ‘attempting’. It was my belief that a simple Pokemon like the Bergmite I saw in passing might be an ideal place to start, but… just don’t laugh. I’m sincerely trying.”
The sound of the paper becomes audible again, growing closer. Something pale is held up roughly a foot from the lens, and it slowly refocuses to capture what might charitably be called a Bergmite. Or a Ditto. Or a Ditto failing to copy a Bergmite.
It’s withdrawn several seconds later, when the wind nearly blows the page out of frame.
“Perhaps it’s best to start with a subject I can actively reference. That Wurmple over there seems promising, in that it’s visible and not actively moving.”
He lapses into a relative silence from there. Occasionally, a small vocalization can be heard-- consideration, dissatisfaction or, rarely, a happier note. The Shinx eventually get bored and wander off, and the Ponyta switches from one tuft of grass to what must be a more appetizing one. The Wurmple doesn’t move even once.
It’s noticeably later in the morning when the camera operator decides he’s done for now. The pages in the book he displayed earlier begin to flip off-screen, but, belatedly, he opens it back up to show the camera that morning’s artistic attempt.
Having a subject to actively consult, it’s orders better than the Bergmite, but the quality of the line work confirms that he’s very new to this endeavor. The lines are shaky in some places and far thicker in areas where he had to adjust the shapes. However, his work wasn’t for nothing. It’s recognizably a Wurmple, and this Wurmple specifically: sleeping vertically on the trunk of a tree.
A handful of seconds pass before the book is removed from the frame; it audibly shuts, and as he rustles his possessions around, the camera man speaks.
“I should do some proper fieldwork before the day grows too warm. While I have a general idea of what Pokemon can be found in this section of the territory, I’d like to be certain before widening my scope. I’m also curious as to how the alpha Rapidash behaves when it doesn’t have a target to chase; it would help to build a greater understanding of alpha Pokemon in general.”
He moves back behind the camera and lifts it, inadvertently demonstrating how he’d propped it up with a piece of wood to capture the setting.
The recording ends.
---
As the camera blips to life, its frame is immediately filled with dark blue and cream fur.
The bottom edge captures water and a stripe of wet sand, betraying that the camera and its operator are some small distance away from the subject. It’s not that the camera is zooming or that he’s invading its space. The Snorlax is simply that big.
Overlapping the sound of waves, just for a second, is a fleeting sigh, accompanied by a hand emerging from the camera’s perimeter, silently asking a nonexistent companion, ‘are you seeing this shit?’
The sense of scale this lends is… frightening.
Water sloshes and, slowly, a distance is put between the camera and its focus. As the cameraman walks away, refusing to turn his back on the sleeping beast, ripples follow him. It’s only once he’s made it to the safety of a small sandbar that he pivots in full, his hand visible for just another second as he raises it to his head.
The only thing he says for the entire duration is a short, “No.” just before the video’s end.
---
The camera is in motion when it starts recording again.
There’s a wide dirt path leading onward, which the cameraman follows as his attention wanders. At one point, he swerves to give a pair of Kricketot a wide berth, but they still jingle nervously as he passes. As he reaches the mouth of a mountain pass, he pivots to pan over the area he’s crossed, and then settles it where he’s heading.
“I haven’t explored this area extensively, but I do know that a fair number of Geodude can be found along this trail, which I’ve been informed translates to ‘Deertrack Heights’. Previously, I’d spent my time here observing the various Pokemon in the Fieldlands, but I want to make a dedicated effort to train with my Gligar; he’s stopped attacking me, but has to be convinced to use any of his moves on an opponent, and we need to rectify that.”
The angle shifts minutely, and a heavy sigh sounds as he moves to capture something on one of the overhead cliffs.
“Sneasler is also here. She refuses to give me any indication why.”
He refocuses on the trail, climbing up until one of the rocks in the distance can be seen meandering, at which point he releases a very large Gligar. The video lapses into the pattern of cajoling the Gligar into attacking and watching the Geodude wander prior to battle.
“Surely I could draw a Geodude without needing a reference.” He mutters to himself as one such Pokemon ambles along the path, unaware what awaits it. “All it is is a rock with arms.”
Gligar is perched precariously on an extinguished torch and Sneasler’s feet are visible on a nearby rock. The rest of her is out of frame. This Geodude doesn’t meet the same opposition as is brethren, however, and is instead startled off by the cadence of hoof beats.
A large white and grey Pokemon gallops into view and a woman in blue leaps from its back. The camera angle shifts dramatically as its operator’s focus changes; only the hard-packed ground is visible for now.
The newcomer speaks Hisuian, and as such, her words are largely incomprehensible to the average Unovan viewer. The word “Ohnyula” sticks out, however, and that’s what the cameraman focuses on.
“I’m afraid I don’t know why Ohnyula is here. Is her presence a problem? ...is our presence a problem? We can vacate this station at once, if need be.”
Unsurprisingly, the response is also Hisuian. The camera sways as its owner says, “No, no. I’m not from the Shinju Clan. Are you from a neighboring faction?”
This goes on for some time, neither able to parse exactly what the other is saying. At two points, the man behind the camera carefully and clearly repeats, “Ayashishi” and “Kongo”. While that seems to mean something to him, he doesn’t elaborate for the hypothetical viewer’s benefit.
The fruitless discussion is brought to an unceremonious end when the new Pokemon is heard drawing near, and the person holding the camera startles into dropping it. It lands lens up, revealing, for the first time, the person who had been recording.
His skin and hair are pale compared to his heavily pigmented, deep black coat, eyes shining strangely in the shade of the matching hat. The hoofed Pokemon is holding him by the collar, dangling him in the air. When words return to him, he yelps a scandalized, “Ayashishi!”
From off-screen, the woman laughs. She’s joined by Sneasler and, surprisingly, also Gligar.
Ayashishi sets him back down after a moment and he promptly runs his hands over his collar, flattening it back down. He mutters under his breath-- something about his job, not Ayashishi’s. His indignation all but vanishes when he’s offered the chance to pet through the Pokemon’s mane of thick white fur.
While he does that, the woman leans over to retrieve his camera, though her palm covers the entirety of its lens. It changes hands shortly thereafter, and the two humans awkwardly try to say their goodbyes before splitting off.
As the cameraman starts back down the incline, running footsteps sound behind him, growing louder and louder. Without any fanfare, he’s hoisted up for a second time with a gleeful “Sn-heee!”
He gives up and goes limp over what must be a shoulder, and the camera displays several minutes worth of lavender fur.
The video ends on the slightly-despairing realization that the device was recording through all of that.
---
It’s bright when the camera turns on and focuses: white guidelines against a dusty brown field. There’s a small, dark building beyond it which becomes the focus for several minutes. As in the first recording, the camera is kept so still that it can’t be held in human hands; it must be propped up against something.
The first sign of movement comes in the form of two Pokemon being released opposite one another; the second is the hint of a dark coat that covers up the rightmost edge.
“Begin!” Calls the man who has been present in every recording, and the unseen trainers call out their first orders-- as always, entirely in Hisuian.
Neither the Pikachu nor the Bidoof have been extensively trained, and it shows in their battling. The moves they use are basic, but reliable. Twice over the course of the match, a trainer adds a modifier-- Bidoof preforms a “chikarawaza” Rollout, which hits harder than expected, and Pikachu a “hayawaza” Thunder Wave, allowing it to act twice in rapid succession.
These wrinkles aside, it’s a beginner’s match, and as such, it doesn’t stretch on.
“Pikachu is unable to battle! The match goes to Bidoof!” As he calls out, the man glances to his left for no immediate reason. He shakes his head and refocuses.
The Pokemon are recalled. One of the trainers leaves without walking into frame, but the second approaches the man in black. The Hisuian is no easier to parse this time than the last, but in spite of the language barrier, they seem to get something from their patchwork conversation.
When the man turns to collect the camera, his brows are drawn and the tilt of his mouth looks troubled.
He doesn’t say anything before turning the device over in his hands and shutting it off.
---
The next recording shows something familiar: the dappled green and brown Fieldlands.
One would be forgiven if their attention didn’t land on that, but the raging fire extending from beneath the stone shelf the cameraman is filming atop.
“My research into the temperament of alpha Pokemon has been a raging success.” Says the man, voice dry enough to go up in smoke. He inches forward on whatever safe spot he’s found, getting the camera a glimpse of the massive, incandescently angry Rapidash below. When it notices, it bellows with an impossible force, and the camera operator hastily moves back out of sight.
“Perhaps I should yell at it in return.” Despite the circumstance, he snorts, and mutters to himself, “You would enjoy that, I think. I could attempt to drown it out where volume is concerned, if not firepower.”
His attention strays here and there as he waits for the Rapidash to calm itself, betraying the fact that he only began to record for lack of anything else to do. At one point, the recording idles on a purple figure in the near distance, hanging off of a cliff and watching his predicament. A feather bounces in what’s recognizably mirth, and, exasperated, the man grumbles, “As always, your assistance is appreciated, Sneasler.”
The wandering lens continues for some time, and then comes to an abrupt halt over a white speck in one of the visible ponds.
“What… is that? A Pokemon? A Marill’s belly, maybe? No, its tail doesn’t allow it to float on its back like that… Wishiwashi? No, the water’s too shallow. There are dark markings on it, whatever it may be. Is… is it coming this way?”
And indeed the dot is. It emerges from the pool and draws even closer, slowly becoming more distinct. For the first time, the camera’s zoom function is put to use, and with that, an Oshawott becomes identifiable.
“Oh no.” Breathes the cameraman, immediately shoving the device in his pocket. There’s a loud inhale and, proving that he’d only been half joking about yelling the Rapidash into submission, he calls, “Stop that at once! You mustn’t continue down this track!”
Nothing can be seen in the dark depths of his pockets, but there’s a prolonged commotion. Among the audio cues, a listener can pick out the sound of a pokeball making contact, and then the sliding of rock. The pokeball fails to capture its target, and then a second pokeball releases its occupant. Gligar’s screech is easy to recognize, but the sound of conflict grows ever-dimmer as the man runs.
Something like a squeak is pulled from the Oshawott’s lungs, and distantly, Gligar keens again. Hoof beats thunder against the ground, nearer and nearer.
The man screams, and something yowls furiously.
It’s unclear how the recording shuts off, but roughly three minutes after this conflict, it does.
---
Species: Rapidash (Kantonian variant; alpha)
Location: Obsidian Fieldlands
What I know: Fire type. It evolves from Ponyta when trained to a certain threshold. These Pokemon are all about speed, from their battle statistics, to their penchant for competitive racing-- a habit which has been observed even in wild specimens. The ability to top 150 mph for long distances made them popular travel companions before the advent of public transportation. The Kantonian variant will often have Run Away or Flash Fire, and the Galarian variant, a psychic/fairy type, will replace Flash Fire with Pastel Veil.
Notes: The alpha Rapidash is relentless. I only escaped it by a fluke; no human stands a chance of outrunning it. It wasn’t my intention to trigger its ire, and I’m unsure what I did to incur it. Be very careful when out in the southern Horseshoe Plains.
Update: This is the second alpha Pokemon that’s decided to pick me out of a number of targets and then attack. I’m unsure what, if anything, that might mean.
Species: Snorlax (Alpha)
Location: Obsidian Fieldlands
What I know: Normal type. While initially thought to be the base form itself, it actually evolves from a well-loved Munchlax; this pre-evolved form is rarer than the final evolution, which is why it went undiscovered for some amount of time. Snorlax is best known for its heartiness, which can be observed in a vast pool of HP and potent defenses, the willingness to eat even spoiled foods, and the fact that, once it’s entered a deep sleep, it’s nearly impossible to wake. Its most common abilities are Immunity and Thick Fat. Some Galarian Snorlaxes have special Gigantamax forms, distinct from the phenomenon of Dynamaxing.
Notes: Common wisdom states that all it does is eat and sleep, and that nothing but hunger will wake it. I’m not testing that theory on the alpha.
Species: Ayashishi Wyrdeer (Kongo Diamond Clan Noble)
Location: Obsidian Fieldlands
What I know:
What I think I know: Its antlers resemble a Stantler’s and its teeth suggest an herbivorous diet.
Notes: Its handler rode on it, even though it didn’t have any sort of harness, which seems unnecessarily dangerous.
Update: Professor Laventon has informed me that, like “Ohnyula”, “Ayashishi” refers to a specific Wyrdeer. I had guessed as much, but didn’t want to assume. His handler is a woman named Mai from the Diamond Clan.