The Hiver starts asking him what this or that Pokémon is called and what 'type' they are.
The 'mon that are out in the room at the moment are all fire type, but some of them are also other types. "I'm pretty sure you're Bug but you might be a combo and all I knew from the way the Houndour were chasing you down was that you're weak to fire, so when you were running away everybody got out fire types. Bella's not helping anymore with her Rapidash though."
"I might also count as Steel. My exoskeleton is largely composed of a steel-based alloy. The idea of types is very foreign. I was strong against fire before I came here. Hiver Warriors are supposed to be strong against everything. I wonder what a... Scientist who studies life, from my Hive, would think of types."
"We do not well understand each other. I think this world turned me into a Pokémon. I was not one before."
"To me Pokémon make little sense. As does how I can be successfully contained by a sphere the size of a light snack."
"Is there food that is of fruit or honey? The other food did not have enough sugar, and has an unpleasant texture."
"At least feed your space alien slave!" roars Bella from across the room.
"...but you seem to have calmed down relative to before so I can get you some fruit," Larry amends, "I just have to put you away so I can go shopping." He reaches for the Pokéball.
"I can stay out, stay here. The ball is unpleasant." But it won't object further, the monkey-non-hive-having creatures are being slightly reasonable. And the time to escape is when they let their guards down after it behaves for a while.
"You seem to have forgotten that one of my conditions for willingly fighting for you is spending most of my time outside of that device. Again I offer to fight something and prove that I am worth the trouble of treating me like an actual person."
It makes a considering sound that just sounds strange to the humans. "You continue to fail to understand. I am not property. I will serve loyally and willingly, but only if you prove you deserve it."
"Enough of this!" The Hiver makes a grab for the Pokéball with faster-than-human reflexes, smashes it between two palms, and bolts for the door, charging straight past or knocking aside any fire-things that try to stop it.
It tries to claw and fight out of whatever stasis the Pokéball is inflicting on it. Which doesn't work.
An indeterminate amount of time passes.
And then it is out again, in the middle of a field in the wilderness, quite deserted except for Bella, Joe, and one of Bella's 'mon, not the fire one, just a short fuzzy bipedal one.
"I got Larry to give you to me," Bella says. "Joe's not going to continuously translate so that he can help longer; ask him if you don't know how to say something or don't understand what I said. Okay?"
"This has been an extremely unpleasant day. I cannot go home. I thought I had found a prince to fight for, but he considers me property and not a member of his Hive. I am still hungry."
Bella has some fruit in her bag. She hands it over. It's not all that much fruit, but she also has just a bag of sugar. "Well, Larry no longer considers you his property."
It curls up into a surprisingly small package for something so big, and starts making a low clicking that the humans probably won't recognize as crying. (It also smells like lemons now.)