Wanderer (introduction for Smith, the Skorupi)

A familiar breeze hits my body. I've had a similar feeling before. The first day of fair weather after a long and dreary winter. The soft wind brings in me a nostalgic sensation, a reminder of times past, when I was burdened by so little, and I had all the time in the world. It hasn't even occurred to me to question why I'm here, or when I got here. Any time I've been dreaming, I've never been lucid enough to question what's going on.

I take in as much fresh air as my lungs can hold, savoring every last bit of it. I wouldn't dare take it for granted even for a second. I'm perfectly content standing still in this clearing for what feels like forever as the sun warms me to my deepest reaches.
Well, I assume I'm in a clearing, until I can see a straight dirt path not too far from me. The tall grass in my eyes obscures my vision, and it's difficult to make out. I never did have good eyesight anyway.

However, what strikes me as particularly odd is just how tall the grass is out here. Just how tall is also difficult to discern. Never in my life have I seen grass that goes up nearly to my eyes, much less past my ankles. It could also be that my chin is barely a few inches above the ground.

I try to stand up straight. My legs won't extend any further, as it appears I'm already standing.

The sun is getting into my eyes, so I try to block the light with my hand. Instead, I am only able to just barely move my pincers away from my head. Panic is starting to set in, as I realize my body has changed. I can still feel sensations across my body the same as I always have, and all of my five senses appear to be intact, yet my physical form is clearly altered.

I can't tell what terrifies me more, the fact that I am no longer human, or that my new body feels entirely natural. Every move I make is organic, as if this is the body I've lived in my entire life. My four legs go limp as I begin to collapse onto the ground, but I'm able to pull myself together. In the direction opposite of the road, the sun's light reflects harshly off of a surface that I'm almost certain is water. With no other clear destination or clue of what's happening, I approach the source of the glow, and as I suspected, find a small pond, just out of reach of the shade brought about by nearby trees.

As I inch close to the ledge and peer into the water, I gaze upon a reflection that I don't recognize as my own, confirming my suspicions. My body is not recognizable as human in any way. I do recognize it as something else: a Skorupi.

The reality, or perhaps, the surreality, of my situation, brings about an emotion that I can barely describe, overwhelming my body and mind. It's like a murky soup of sadness, confusion, elation, and hopelessness. Thank God I know what a Pokemon is. As a kid, I'd be ecstatic to be transported into the world of a game, but as an adult the situation feels significantly scarier, while simultaneously as if a weight has been lifted from my shoulders, or at least where shoulders would be on my human body.

Still dazed by the break-neck pace at which my whole life has been warped, I walk, er, scuttle, back to the grassy clearing and draw my attention to the road. The fact that it is entirely dirt and trampled grass rather than pavement tells me I must be pretty far away from modern civilization.

I'm still not entirely sure of what I should do. This world has Pokemon in it, that much I can assume, seeing as I am one. Before I can begin to worry too much, I hear distant conversation, too far away for me to decipher.

Hiding (as much as I can) in the grass, my tail parallel to the ground, I make out what looks like three other creatures, none of them appearing to be human. Looking more closely, I can tell the group consists of a Sandshrew, a Fletchling, and an Alolan Vulpix. They all wear bandanas, ribbons, and other accessories, various bags and packs slung across their bodies. I can't make out exactly what they are discussing, but I'm at least able to recognize their speech as English. At this moment, it dawns upon me that I've been placed specifically into the world of Pokemon Mystery Dungeon.

A strange wave of relief sweeps across my body. I've played these games endlessly throughout my childhood, so, choosing to assume that this world operates by similar rules to what I'm familiar with, I'm boosted by my confidence, even if just barely. Yet, the few moments since I've realized my current situation have been incredibly stressful, feeling like a hunted animal, having to figure out where I am, what's happened to me, and having to adapt. I'm tired of thinking so hard today, and I can feel a killer headache coming along. Once the three have disappeared from sight down the road, I take my first steps along the path, going the same direction as the travelers.

I feel a bittersweet comfort knowing that my situation is familiar, yet foreign at the same time. My thoughts clouded and scrambled, one sudden idea forces itself into the forefront of my conscious:

"I need to become strong."

If my experience with mystery dungeon games has taught me anything, it's that through enough grinding (and autism) I can become a one-mon juggernaut, and defeat anything that threatens me.

...But why And how? I suppose I craved that feeling of security that would come from being invincible. In the real world, that isn't something that I had ever considered possible. I always saw myself as a weak, useless man with no influence or ability to do anything. But now, as a Pokemon, I should be on much more equal footing to anything that opposes me.

I question the instinct, but it remains dominant over anything I can imagine. I tell myself that, in a semi-familiar world, I need to become as strong as I possibly can to ensure my survival and security. Well, I suppose if I'm going to be here indefinitely, I should try to make the most of it. I want to be "overpowered", so I can protect myself from anything.

I'm feeling much more relieved now that I have a goal, even if it's cheesey, and there's no immediately obvious way to achieve it. But, I'm still tired of thinking any harder about it right now. I have nothing to lose and so much to gain as I walk down the road, aimlessly, yet determined, to achieve an abstract, possibly pointless, possibly incredible goal. I allow the road to take me anywhere it sees fit.

In the distance, after god knows how long of trekking the beaten path, I stare at architecture of stone, with bridges crossed mid-air like a spider's intricate, yet beautiful web. I anxiously take my first steps into "Capim Town".