Ces Batards De L'autre Cote De La Rue was dark and eerily silent
as the two invisible figures glided across the now empty parking
lot and sailed up onto the roof. Once they were both well within
the shadows cast by several small chimneys and the rooftop portion
of the ventilation system, Wraith dropped the illusion of
invisibility on his companion as he faded into the visible
spectrums of light himself.
"Well that was fun," commented Nezumi sarcastically, hopping down
off the haunter's spectral, disembodied hand to the broken gravel
of the roof, his body weaving back and forth as he regained
equilibrium, "I hope I get frequent flier miles for it, though. I
think I prefer my feet on the ground. And so long as we're on the
subject, I'd especially prefer to actually be able to see my
feet!"
Wraith chuckled, gliding along a few feet off the roof, surveying
the scene. "At least you 'have' feet," he chided in an amused tone
before floating up to the ventilation grate and poking at it with
his three fingered hand, "Say, how 'bout this way?"
Nezumi closed his eyes, giving his head a good shake to make
certain his brain was turned around the right way and glanced over
at the dark floating shape of his friend. "Oh, VERY funny, Fang
Face!" he replied in a warily annoyed tone, recalling the first
time they met, "But I think we've spent enough time in ventilation
tubes for one life time."
"Aww, come on," laughed Wraith, trying to look innocent, but not
really succeeding, "I'm on YOUR side now, remember?"
Nezumi smiled, somehow unable to muster anger towards his old
friend. "You're just lucky I'm not claustrophobic," he muttered,
scampering over to the metal grating and looking at the near total
darkness between the slats.
"Umi forgives me," the ghost added in his own defense as the
rattata began squeezing himself between the slats in what seemed
like an impossible feat of squirming.
"Yeah, well, ah-!" responded Nezumi, his voice echoing as he
shifted his weight in an attempt to get his stomach through the
thin opening, "Draco-babe's still kinda impressionable, and she's
just a wee bit too forgiving sometimes. Ow-! Oh man, I really need
to loose some weight!"
Wraith suppressed a laugh as the rattata fell forward and had to
grab one of the metal slats with the end of his curled tail to
avoid falling into the darkness below. "Need some help?" he
inquired with a wide grin as he phased easily though the metal
grating and caused his eyes to glow an eerie amber colour.
"Naw," commented Nezumi as though he were fine with the concept of
hanging upside down by his tail over a dark abyss, "I think I'll
just wait 'till I sprout wings and can fly my way down!"
The ghost tilted his body from side to side in a manner of shaking
his head before reaching out with on hand and snatching Nezumi up
by the tail. He then glanced down, causing the wave of strange,
spectral light to illuminate the surprisingly long drop to the
bottom. Wraith then let out a long, impressed sounding whistle and
held Nezumi closer to his face.
"Looks like a long drop," he commented mischievously, "Good thing
you had me here to save you!"
"Don't even think about it," the rattata chuckled as they
descended, passing by several offshoots that would soon be keeping
the second floor living area warm all Winter.
"Don't worry," the ghost assured him, his tone sounding less
maniacal, "I've never actually wanted really hurt anyone."
"No, not you. Never!" replied Nezumi offhandedly, waving a paw
dismissively for effect, "You just want to scare the living
daylights out of folks from time to time that's all."
"Well, you have to admit that fear a fairly strong emotion,"
explained Wraith as they reached the bottom and he let Nezumi down
with the utmost of care.
"So's amusement," added the rattata, sniffing around to figure out
their next move.
"Yeah," the haunter agreed thoughtfully, "And I do like making
people laugh, but every once in a while, you just have to give
someone a good scare! It's so... So yummy!"
"Yummy?" inquired Nezumi, stopping in his tracks and blinking
loudly.
"Yes," mused Wraith, closing his eyes for a moment and causing the
lights to go out again, "the living have such tasty emotions! And
their nightmares aren't half bad either!"
Nezumi shook his head and sighed before finally catching the old
scent of frying meat that once wafted down the shaft from
somewhere farther ahead. "Ah! Now THAT'S yummy!" he explained,
glancing over his shoulder at the bewildered looking haunter.
"Sorry, guy," replied Wraith with a shrug, "I don't remember food.
Or much of anything from my breathing days."
"Gee," commented the rattata, a look of distant horror in his
eyes, "I can't imagine not being able to taste stuff. Food's
great!"
"Eh," replied Wraith with what passed for a shrug, "C'est La
Morte."
Nezumi furrowed his brow, thinking hard for a moment before
suddenly grinning broadly. "Alright then, my fine, ectoplasmic
friend!" he announced, raising up on his hind-legs and folding his
forelegs across his chest, "I think it's about time that you got
an edge-you-vacation in fine queeze-een!"
Wraith stifled a laugh, knowing better than to let his voice echo
too much. "And just how do you propose to do that?" he inquired
with smirk, "Just 'cause I have a tongue, doesn't mean I can
taste."
"Ah!" replied Nezumi with a gleam in his eye, "But I can!"
Wraith gave the rattata a suspicious look, floating closer as one
eye grew and the other shrank to compensate. "You have a plan?"
Nezumi nodded. "Yup," he said in an amused whisper, glancing
around as if expecting someone to come along and find them
plotting, "You know that trick you can do? The one where you link
minds with the Boss Lady? And sometimes she can see what you see,
and you can see what she's seein'?"
Wraith rubbed his chin, looking thoughtfully as Nezumi spoke. "I
think I see what you're getting at," he replied, turning his gaze
back to the rattata and nodding, "Alright then. But you might want
to close your eyes first. Human minds are more complex than
rattata's."
"Eh, I can take it," assured Nezumi with a shrug before looking
Wraith straight in the eye, grinning broadly and saying, "Alright,
Fang Face. Hit me!"
Wraith cackled as he reached out his disembodied hand and pushed a
single finger through his friend's forehead without encountering
resistance. His consciousness then quickly slipped past Nezumi's
less than adequate mental shielding as though it wasn't even there
and almost immediately found the center of the pokemon's
consciousness. With a satisfied smile, the haunter accessed a
continuous stream of hazy memories he'd only glanced at in passing
when they'd first met.
In less than a heartbeat's time, the haunter had quickly scanned
through all of Nezumi's limited long-term memory and was amused by
the images of himself in his friend's mind. It even gave him a
strange warm feeling to know that they both thought of each other
as brothers now, and that Umi was indeed the little sister they
both sought to protect. Even though she'd be able to easily defeat
both of them at once in only a few years time.
When he touched the rattata's thoughts about Miranda, though, he
felt a sudden, strange sadness. Though Wraith himself had no
actual 'parents', having long since transcended the mortal plane
and having forgotten even what he was in life, the fact that
Nezumi secretly thought of Miranda as 'Mom' caused the ghost to
take pause. The rattata had never spoken of his real mother, and
her fate had been lost in the garbled jumble of memories Nezumi
had accumulated growing up with humans.
But amongst the faded memories, Wraith found an image that caused
a pang of guilt. He'd felt the emotion before in himself, but only
rarely, and in small measure, but the image of Nezumi's rattata
siblings being devoured by a hungry persian made the haunter feel
more genuinely guilty than he'd thought possible. Wraith then once
more recalled the first time he'd met Nezumi and Umi. When he'd
quickly scanned their minds to discover their worst fears. Umi's
had involved the cold, but that wasn't surprising. Dragons HATED
being cold more than anything else in the world. But Nezumi's fear
involved felines. Persians in particular. At first Wraith had
thought it was simply a common rattata trait, the logic standing
to all reason. But now as he quickly reviewed the images of a
younger Miranda risking her life against a feline that outweighed
her, and could have easily made the human its next meal, the
haunter knew what true guilt was.
For his part, Nezumi felt nothing more than a slight tingling as
the dark shape passed between his eyes and literally touched his
mind. Less than a second later, he felt a slight wave of
disorientation as a flood of memories zipped past, too quickly to
make sense of, followed by a wave of sudden nausea.
"Oh...!" he exclaimed uneasily, staggering backwards on his hind
legs as he developed a strange sort of double vision. For a
moment, Nezumi could see Wraith looking down at him almost sadly,
but at the same time, he could though the haunter's eyes a little
rattata staggering almost drunkenly from side to side before
falling over on his back.
"Oh, sorry," muttered Wraith, turning down the sense-link, "As I
said. Human's are more complicated than pokemon."
"No worries!" assured Nezumi, clutching his head against the
sudden ache behind his eyes, "Let's just get moving. We only have
a few hours ta kill, and I wanna see what they have in their
kitchen before we do any serious snooping."
"Alright then," Wraith replied, pretending to crack his knuckles
before floating past Nezumi, his the glow from his luminescent
eyes reflecting off a nearby ventilation grating, "Just let me
check to make sure the way is clear."
Nezumi nodded slowly, giving himself a second headache in the
process before following the ghost at a slow, careful pace until
he regained equilibrium and he got used to the peculiar echoing
effect in his ears.
"Hey!" whispered Wraith, his voice a dark hiss as the light from
his eyes went out, "Check this out! Um, close your eyes first."
The rattata complied, shutting his eyes as he approached the
grating. To Nezumi's surprise, his mind was filled with a sudden
storm of confusing images. Many of the shapes, were familiar, and
even the sensation of being suspended in midair was becoming
commonplace, but what Nezumi hadn't been ready for, was colour.
All his life, the rattata had seen the world with eyes that were
designed for nocturnal foraging. The world of colour was foreign
to him, as Nature had decreed that night creatures had no need for
such things. And now, Nezumi's mind swam with images that were
both familiar and yet completely alien to him.
Only the dull white of the walls in the small office held any
solace from the seemingly blinding dull green of the carpet, the
somehow nauseating brown of the desk, the somehow loud red colour
of the LED of the digital clock that sat upon it.
"A computer!" cackled Wraith in excitement, suddenly severing the
connection and phasing through the grating, leaving a light sheen
of ectoplasm upon the metal to mark his passing.
"Gah!" spat Nezumi, holding his head as he opened one eye and
stared gratefully out at the wide assortment of grays, blacks and
whites that his mind was used to, "That's enough of that!"
After a moment to make sure he could keep his last meal down,
Nezumi scampered up to the grating and peered curiously through
the slanted metal bars. "Eww!" he complained, getting a face full
of ectoplasm for his trouble, but still thankful to see that the
office was in shades he understood once more.
"Pssst! Hey, Fang Face! You gonna open the door, or what?" he
called, his voice a squeaking whisper, but the haunter had already
vanished into the large white box with the dark glass screen and
Nezumi knew he'd be a while.
"Oh, for the love of gouda!" the rattata muttered, taking several
steps back from the sealed exit, "I guess I'll just have to do it
myself."
Nezumi closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, partially to
prepare himself and partially in hopes of catching a scent or two
from the kitchen. "One, ten... Eighty-four-!" he exclaimed before
racing forward, kicking in a surge of adrenaline from a special
gland as he did so, allowing Nezumi to travel far faster than was
normal for the split second it took him to plough into the
grating.
There was a loud -pop!- as the loose screws came loose from the
plaster wall and the rattata came crashing through the thin metal
barrier, but the shriek Nezumi let out as he suddenly fell out of
the air at near terminal velocity was far more ear-splitting.
"Ahh!" he cried, tumbling end over end for what seemed like
forever before landing with a bounce upon the dark leather sofa
that rested against the opposite wall.
"Shh!" hissed Wraith, his disembodied voice echoing eerily from
the computer speakers, "You could wake the dead with that yell!"
"Look who's talking," the rattata muttered, brushing the ectoplasm
and dust out of his fur.
"You know what I mean," responded Wraith, suddenly making a
peculiar, happy sound before cackling quietly to himself.
"Oooh!" he whispered over the speakers, "This is pretty good!"
"What is?" Nezumi inquired, bounding off the couch and running
across the dark carpet to where he could climb up the leg of the
desk.
"I think it's a love letter," chuckled Wraith, followed by a faint
explosive sound as he emptied the computer's recycle bin.
"You can read it?" asked Nezumi, blinking loudly as he struggled
onto the desk and sat before the keyboard.
"Well, not 'exactly'," admitted the haunter as the monitor
flickered to life, "But the way the one's, zero's and two's line
up occasionally make pictures I can sorta understand."
"Wha-?" Nezumi replied, his head flopping to one side, adding to
his sudden slack jawed expression.
"Never mind," assured Wraith, suddenly appearing on the screen as
a two-dimensional haunter that took up most of the screen, "It's
how these things talk. It's not something you need to worry
yourself about."
"Good," commented Nezumi, giving his head a shake as he glanced
curiously up at the image of his friend, sniffing the air between
them, "Say, are you sure you weren't one of them 'pory-what's
it's' before you, you know... Kicked the bucket?"
"I don't think so," the ghost replied thoughtfully, his
disembodied hand rubbing his chin as he spoke, "Otherwise we
wouldn't have met."
"How's that?"
Wraith shrugged. "It's all technical," he muttered dismissively,
suddenly turning his attention to something inside the system
Nezumi couldn't see, "but to put it simply, those bleeders at
Sylph grabbed me 'cause they were too lazy to make a computer that
thought for itself. That was before they made those porygon
things."
"I see," replied Nezumi slowly, trying to recall the fuzzy
memories as Wraith mucked about in the computer for several
minutes.
"Okay, here we go," said Wraith finally before reaching his hand
towards the rattata, "This'll take a while, but I'm sure it'll
have something on it the Boss Lady'll want.
Nezumi watched in curious fascination as the haunter's hand
touched the inside of the glass screen before pushing forward and
slowly entering the real world once again, the dark hand passing
through the barrier, and seeming to go from two dimensional, to
three.
"Show off," chuckled the rattata, watching as the hand opened one
of the desk's drawers and began rummaging through it.
"Hey, most of you skin bags are born with these things," chuckled
Wraith as Nezumi's curiosity got the better of him, and he leaned
over the edge in time to see the haunter's hand tossing several
small, black, flat things out, "I'm just testing my new limits.
Ah! Here we go!"
"What's that for?" inquired Nezumi, watching as the haunter's
three fingered hand lifted a flat, shiny round thing from the pile
of junk at the bottom of the drawer.
"Evidence!" cackled Wraith as somewhere beneath the desk a quiet
mechanical sound signaled the opening of a small empty tray.
"Eh, whatever," replied Nezumi with a shrug, rapidly becoming
bored and wondering where the kitchen was.
"Alright. Let's go," came his friends voice a moment later, this
time without the odd reverberation from the speakers.
"Do you get to eat now?" Nezumi inquired, ignoring the strange
sounds coming from the computer, paying more attention to keeping
himself still as Wraith picked him up again.
"So much that you'll have to evolve a larger stomach," assured
Wraith as he exited the computer with a strangely wet sound and
flew them both towards the door.
"Great!" exclaimed Nezumi excitedly, rubbing his forepaws together
and not paying attention as the ghost passed non-corporally
through the wooden door, and he himself went crashing into it
before landing on the carpet.
"Jerk," he muttered, exhaling all the air from his lungs before
preparing to crawl through the small opening that separated the
door from the floor.
"Sorry," came Wraith's muffled apology as he waited for Nezumi to
squirm out the other side, "I forgot."
"Yeah, well just don't- Hey, what's that smell?"
"I don't smell anything," replied Wraith with a chuckle, knowing
that Nezumi was perfectly well aware of his lack of a nose.
"Hm, this isn't good," the rattata muttered, his nose close to the
floor as he crawled about, barely remembering to yank his tail
through the small opening.
"So what is it?" inquired Wraith in a bored tone, glancing down
the short hallway towards what he suspected was the kitchen.
"I dunno," replied Nezumi pensively, glancing over his shoulder as
he followed the bored ghost down the hall, "But something nasty's
been sitting outside that room quite a bit lately."
"Well, it's not here now," replied Wraith, only half paying
attention as he pushed a door open and peered inside.
"Yeah, but, can't you like, 'feel' it, or somethin'?" Nezumi
persisted, suddenly feeling his skin crawl as he glanced over his
shoulder and noticed a few short dark hairs mixed in with his
coat, "Somethin' mighty creepy?"
"Naw, all I sense is stress," said the ghost hungrily, licking his
lips as he sailed into the kitchen and began absorbing the
residual traces of human emotion that still hung about the room.
Nezumi shook his head in dismay, his hunger temporarily forgotten
as he yanked a course black hair off his back and gave it a quick
sniff. "Ew!" he exclaimed, tossing it away in disgust, "reminds me
of somethin', but I'm not sure what. Hm. Now where has Fang Face
gotten himself off to?"
Within the kitchen, Wraith had to keep himself from laughing as he
floated along the pristine aisles, past workstations and gas-
powered ovens where busy humans had exerted so much energy in a
relatively short period of time. The emotional residue wasn't as
fresh as it would be coming straight from the source, but it
wasn't exactly stale either.
With a wide grin, the haunter let his fingers trail through the
invisible pockets of tension, anger and joy, cackling to himself
as he sampled everyone, discerning more than twenty distinct human
presences in the expansive kitchen.
"Tasty, tasty..." he murmured, not noticing as Nezumi scampered
along the dark aisles with a worried expression upon his face.
"There's that scent again," commented the rattata, scampering
under a counter and sniffing around until he found the passing
scent of one of his own kind mingled with the peculiar scent of
whatever guarded the door to the office.
"Yo, Fang Face!" he called quietly, "You noticed any sign of that
weird thing yet?"
"Huh?" called Wraith, lost in his own musings as he greedily
feasted upon every bit of emotional residue he could find left
over by the controlled chaos of the busy kitchen.
"Forget it," Nezumi muttered, trying to follow the rattata scent
but finding the nauseating scent of chemical floor cleaner
clogging his senses as soon as he emerged from underneath the
workstation, "Just help me find where they keep the food. I can't
think on an empty stomach anyway."
Wraith let out a loud belch, having cleansed the room of any trace
of human passage on the spiritual level. "It's over there," he
muttered, reaching out one of his hands to direct the rattata,
"Here, I'll get the door for you."
"Thanks," Nezumi replied, his stomach suddenly growling as the
followed the hand to a row of gigantic steel doors. With little
effort, Wraith's spectral hand yanked the lever attached to one of
them, and the door slid open with a quiet hiss, "Yikes-!"
Nezumi cursed and tried to shield his eyes from the blinding light
that switched on in the room beyond. As he stood blinking, the
rattata could feel the cooler air billowing out around him and the
distinct scents of several kinds of expensive cheeses traveling
with it, disguised by the dozen other scents that filled what was
only one of several walk-in coolers.
"Wow," chuckled Nezumi wryly as he stood up on his hind legs to
get a better look, "If I was a Disney character, I'd break into
song!"
"Good thing you're not," shuddered Wraith, floating in several
feet above Nezumi's head and giving the room a quick scan. "Oooh!"
he commented after a moment, "Someone's been doing something they
shouldn't in here!"
Nezumi tried not to worry about what the ghost was on about, and
instead set about clambering up one of the tall wooden shelves to
where the cheeses were located. "Mine," he chuckled to himself,
momentarily forgetting about the strange scent and the itchiness
he felt where the creature's stray hairs had touched him, "All
mine!"
"Have fun," cackled Wraith, quickly absorbing the emotions of two
lover's who seemed to have made the warmest of the cool-rooms a
convenient place to steal kisses at work before going intangible
and passing through the wall to the next room.
"What the-?!" he exclaimed, blinking loudly as his spectral senses
picked up the emotions of great amusement and mild satisfaction.
Curiously, Wraith concentrated and caused the eerie glow to return
to his eyes. What he saw gave him a confused sensation of
amusement and sudden remorse. The room was similar to the previous
one, only far colder, with a special table set aside for meat
wrapping in the center, and hanging in a neat row from the ceiling
were several mismatched forms of creatures Wraith half recognized.
At first he dismissed them as the usual tauros, piloswine, and the
occasional mareep humans were known to have a taste for, but his
time haunting Miranda's pokedex told him otherwise. There weren't
many, and Wraith's quick analysis of the room's emotional residue
told him that this room served a special purpose. Something dark
and Machiavellian that made him smile, but it was the sight of one
deceased pokemon that made the humor of the situation pass rather
quickly.
"I hope this isn't what I know it is..." Wraith muttered
nervously, biting the ends of his fingers as he reached his other
hand to touch what he was certain was one of Nezumi's distant
relatives.
"Okay, that's it," the ghost muttered, turning away as the body
swung ominously back and forth, setting several others off as
well, "I think that disk should be ready, and his hard drive nice
and formatted!"
Wraith passed through the metal door as though it were nothing and
took a deep breath before chuckling at himself for imitating the
reaction he'd seen in his mortal friends. "Weird," he muttered,
glancing down at his hands, "I almost feel unnerved by that
experience. I must be hanging around the living a little too
much."
"Then perhaps you should go back to living amongst the dead,"
hissed a voice that caused a peculiar chill to run through Wraith.
Unwilling to be intimidated, the haunter swiveled to face the
unfamiliar sound, quickly reviewing the exact wording of what was
said in pokespeak to hear the sound that would meet human ears.
"Umbreon."
"Ah! I see that you've discovered part of our little secret," the
feminine voice continued with a low, sinister chuckle that made
Wraith smile.
"Your intimidation is amateurish," chided the haunter, discerning
the dark shape of something quadrupedal, with long slender ears
and a short tail that twitched unpleasantly at the ghost's
comment.
"What?!" the umbreon hissed as an eerie yellow glow appearing upon
her forehead in the shape of a small ring, "How dare you! I am a
creature of darkness! And you! You are but a shadow of that true
darkness!"
"Oh, give it up!" laughed Wraith, refusing to take the evolved
eevee seriously even as he quickly searched his memory for
information on the twisted little vulpine before him, "You're like
one of those pretentious humans who paint their skin white, dye
their hair black and go around muttering 'Oh the angst! I'm so do
dead! Like, oh woe is me! I think I'll go and brood now!'"
The umbreon glowered, her eyes gleaming red in the darkness.
"Watch your tongue, spirit," she warned as peculiar green sparks
ignited between his teeth as she spoke, "Lest I awaken my master
and we discover what the culinary properties of haunter's are!"
"Hey, Fang Face, what's shaken'?" inquired Nezumi, waddling out of
the first cold room with a rather full stomach, "Whoa-! Who's the
Goth chick?"
The umbreon turned her attention to Nezumi the instant he
appeared, her nostrils flaring as she caught his scent. "Ah!" she
chuckled hungrily, "Another tasty rattata dares to venture into my
master's darkened kitchen!"
"Well," commented Nezumi with a wide grin, his whiskers twitching
as he oriented on the dark shape, "You ain't so bad lookin'
yourself, little lady!"
"Um, I think she means to eat you, Nezumi," interrupted Wraith
drolly.
"Oh. Well that's no good."
"For you, perhaps," chuckled the umbreon at Nezumi's sudden
disappointment, taking a few quiet steps forward as her teeth
gleamed dangerously.
"Look, uh, we really should be going," said Wraith, dropping one
of his hands to grab Nezumi by the scruff of the neck.
"Oh, no!" chuckled the umbreon, "I can't allow myself to appear to
be a bad hostess. Won't you stay? Won't you stay, for dinner?!"
At that moment, Salmonella let loose with the attack she'd been
withholding. Sickly green flames burst forth from the end of her
short snout, filling the kitchen with an unnatural green light
whose shadows seemed alive with malevolence.
"Incoming!" shouted Nezumi as Wraith yanked the rattata and
himself out of the way, barely evading the attack.
"What was that?!" the haunter exclaimed as the flames died away
and the dark eevee chuckled at them.
"Bale Fire," she replied with a satisfied grin, "something new my
master cooked up for me. And you know, it's VERY effective against
ghosts. Which is unfair really, seeing as all your pathetic
techniques will barely breach my defenses."
"She's right," muttered Wraith as though through gritted teeth,
"There isn't much I can do that'll touch her."
"Ha! Then we'll just have to double team her!" replied Nezumi
confidently, his eyes gleaming as he grinned broadly at the
umbreon, "Alright, Fang Face! Hit her with everything you've got!"
Salmonella yawned and sat down on her haunches to scratch herself
behind the ear as Wraith held out his hands dramatically.
"Nightshade won't help you," she replied in a bored tone as a
field of eerie green light formed around her in a thin bubble and
dark purple lightning crackled across Wraith's stubby pointed
fingertips.
"Maybe not," chuckled Nezumi from his precarious position, a
sphere blue/white light forming just inside his mouth, "But a
little something the Boss Lady likes to call 'Hypothermia' just
might!"
As one, the two pokemon fired off their attacks. Wraith's
nightshade arching from his hands in a wide, wavering beam of dark
purple un-light, as the crackling blue/white beam of cold burst
forth from Nezumi in a thin cone.
The two peculiar attacks merged partway to their target, and
immediately altered one another, shifting through various colour
combinations as they seemed to struggle against one another.
Finally, though, they became one. A long thin beam of focused
indigo that snaked and arched its way to its target like a hungry
serpent before striking hard and fast against the umbreon's force
field.
Salmonella let out a frightened shriek as the barrier collapsed
and the beam of frozen nightshade ploughed into her. The result
was an explosion of purple light that crackled with blue/white
lightning, and left the floor tiles both frozen and warped. The
result to Salmonella however, was a very angry, and very cold
umbreon sailing across the room and crashing into a pile of neatly
stacked pots and pans.
"Y-You'll pay for that!" she promised once the cacophony of
crashing metal subsided, "I'll swallow your souls!"
"Hey!" called Wraith from the door to the hallway as he flew at
breakneck speed from the room, "That's MY line!"
"Ah! Swallow this!" laughed Nezumi, sending a poorly aimed ice
beam into wall several meters away from the umbreon before being
whisked out of the room.
"We'll need to get through that door again, eh," warned Wraith,
straining to keep Nezumi aloft as the rattata kept looking back
and firing ice-beams in the general direction of the kitchen.
"Huh? Oh, yeah! Sorry!" chuckled Nezumi, refusing to take the
pretentious little pokemon who claimed to eat rattatas seriously,
"Just drop me off here!"
"Gladly!" agreed Wraith, letting go of Nezumi before making a
second sharp turn and phasing back through the office door.
The rattata, meanwhile, found himself rolling down the carpeted
hall towards a distant set of stairs. When he at last came to a
halt at the foot of those stairs, feeling a bit bruised, but
relatively unharmed due to the carpeted floor, Nezumi found
himself looking up into a pair of gleaming red eyes.
"Oh no, not another one!" he grumbled, flipping over onto his feet
and running back towards the exit as a large black form swooped
down and up, barely missing him.
"Deb!" shouted Salmonella from the opposite end of the hall, "We
have an intruder!"
"Well, duh!" laughed the murkrow, gliding along near the ceiling
and waiting for the right moment to swoop down and devour the
rattata with her sharply curved beak.
"Ya got yerself a flair for graspin' the obvious, babe!" laughed
Nezumi, skidding to a halt at the office door and concentrating
for a moment, "But it ain't gonna help ya!"
"What the-?!" exclaimed both pokemon as Nezumi's body glowed with
a brilliant white light before expanding and changing shape until
he stood as a significantly larger raticate.
"Evolution won't help you, tasty one," hissed the umbreon as
Nezumi's incisors gleamed before he sank them into the door and
ripped it off its hinges.
"Running won't save you!" the dark-eevee continued as Nezumi
disappeared into the room and both pokemon gave chase once again,
"Nothing will save you-!"
As the two dark types reached the open doorway, the door came
flying out at them. Salmonella let out a high-pitched shriek and
flattened herself out; the murkrow wasn't as lucky, however. Deb
hit the door like a bug hitting a windshield and let out a sharp
squawk before dropping like a stone.
"Heh, I suppose I'll have to pay for that too, eh?" commented
Nezumi sarcastically, giving the angered umbreon a wide grin
before bounding towards the single window and bursting through the
glass to freedom.
"Something like that," spat the umbreon, suddenly noticing an
awful grinding noise coming from one corner of the room.
She sniffed the air and caught the unfamiliar tang of ozone, the
sharp smell of melting plastic and finally a peculiar scent of
fusing copper wire. Cautiously, Salmonella crept closer to the
increasingly louder grinding noise. As she peered curiously under
the desk, the smells got stronger and what the dark one saw made
her eyes widen with anxiety.
The large white box with several small green blinking lights did
not look happy. The lights had all started flashing red, and as
she watched it began to shake violently as white smoke rose lazily
up from all the seams. And finally, once the awful grinding sounds
halted, both the strange little trays slid open, each one dripping
with a noxious clear/green ooze that slowly sublimated from the
intense heat the metal box was giving off.
"Oh dear," Salmonella muttered, taking several steps back and
deciding to check on Deb, "The master is not going to like
this...!"
***
Miranda awoke with the morning sun shining painfully in her eyes
and something cold poking her in the nose. Grumbling incoherently,
she opened one eye and saw Nezumi poking her with his nose.
"You're back," she whispered happily, reaching her hand out from
beneath the blankets to scratch him between the ears, "Find
anything useful, dear?"
The rattata gave her an unusually pensive look, and nodded.
"What's wrong?" inquired Miranda, her tone becoming instantly
serious as she momentarily tried to sit up before realizing that
she still had Misty sleeping on top of her.
Nezumi sighed heavily and held aloft the small teacup Miranda had
given him. 'It's bad, Miri,' he whispered in pokespeak, 'and I
need a drink.'
Miranda gave the little creature a look of concern, knowing that
Nezumi never dropped his sarcasm. His tone never became so
serious, even in a dangerous situation. "What time is it?" she
asked rhetorically, reaching unsuccessfully for her watch, which
she'd left on top of the dresser.
'I'll get it for ya,' offered Nezumi, giving Miranda a second jolt
of worry.
"This IS serious," she told herself, feeling a deep sense of dread
creep in around the corners of her wary mind as the rattata leaped
up onto the dresser and tossed her down the watch.
"Oh, Nezumi," Miranda muttered, shaking her head in dismay, "It's
much too early for this."
Nezumi shrugged and sat down on his haunches as Miranda spent
quite a bit of time reluctantly extricating herself from her lover
before sliding out of bed and stumbling groggily towards the door.
'Boss Lady!' Nezumi hissed warningly.
"Huh? Wha-? Oh yeah!" chuckled Miranda, tossing her hair out of
her eyes as she turned around and picked up the long t-shirt she
usually wore to bed, "I forgot I was naked..."
***
Miranda returned a short time later with a mug she'd found in the
kitchen filled nearly to the rim with sweet smelling Earl Gray. As
she shut the door quietly behind her, the woman spotted Nezumi
giving her a quizzical look from the cluttered dresser.
"I still say it's too early, she whispered, taking a sip of the
steaming liquid as she glanced down at the over turned clock on
the floor and noticed it was now barely half past seven.
Nezumi nodded, his expression still sullen as he held up his small
teacup hopefully. Miranda nodded in response and after carefully
navigating the cluttered floor, spooned a bit of her drink into
her rattata's cup.
"The sugar'll probably put you in a better mood," Miranda teased,
smiling maternally and scratching Nezumi between the ears, "Now
then. Where's Wraith?"
The little rattata motioned nonchalantly with his tail to where
Miranda's backpack lay open on the floor. "The 'dex?" his trainer
inquired, and Nezumi nodded in agreement, wincing at the tea's
temperature as he lapped it up.
Miranda sighed heavily as she sat cross-legged on the floor and
set her tea down. "I don't know why I just don't take this thing
in for repairs," she muttered to herself with a yawn, all the
while digging through her overcrowded backpack blindly.
After more than a minute, the courier's hand grasped something
small, plastic, and nearly icy cold to the touch. "Over doing it a
little this morning, aren't we, dear?" she inquired rhetorically
as she wrenched the small rectangular object free of a week's
worth of dirty laundry.
There was no response from the object, but the small, battered
looking device uncommonly known as an "Electronic Parazoological
Encyclopedia & Data Input/Output Device", and commonly known as a
"Pokedex" did seem somehow more abused and battered than the last
time she'd been bothered to use it.
For a moment Miranda smiled, recalling only a few short years ago
when she'd found Wraith, and how she'd tricked him out of a Sylph
Co mainframe and into her 'dex. It hadn't been pretty, but since
then, the device was like a second pokeball to the ghost, and the
poor thing showed the scars.
The outer casing (which was allegedly bullet proof, but Miranda
had yet to test the theory) had once been the subtle purplish
colour that all pokedexes given to Lav'Brats were, but after years
of ghostly inhabitation, the colour had drained to nearly white (a
fact that not even the world's premier spectral-zoologist could
explain), and along the center where it split in half like a book,
a series of unexplainable scorch marks had formed. The casing was
also beaten and battered, with scratches that looked like claw
marks, and dents that couldn't possibly be explained by any known
weapon or pokemon technique.
With a bit of physical exertion, Miranda was able to pry the
device open, instinctively flinching as bits of melted plastic
broke off and the pokedex made an unpleasant rattling noise from
inside as though something important had dislodged. And as the two
halves separated, with an unpleasant creaking noise not unlike the
wary groan of old bones being forced into action, the array of
internal problems became more evident.
On the right-hand side, the small "dvorak" keyboard was missing
two function keys, nine letters from the alphabet, and the 'Enter'
key. Several others were either stuck in the pressed position,
wouldn't move when one pushed down on them, or had their letters
or numbers rubbed off completely. Also, the odd bits of wires and
internal circuitry that stuck out from the long gash near the edge
weren't very encouraging.
The problems with the left-hand side weren't as visible, but were
just as bad. The small 128bit colour flat screen that took up most
of the area had one large crack across it, with several smaller
cracks radiating outwards, yet somehow the monitor still
functioned. (A fact that Miranda knew better than to question.)
Even when it was turned off, the screen occasionally flickered
with eerie florange and octarine lights now and then, and to make
matters worse, the internal speaker which Miranda was certain
she'd yanked out of the thing the first day she had it,
occasionally let out a low hissing sound.
But it wasn't the physical appearance of Miranda's pokedex that
made most repair shop employees run in fear, go mad, or start
writing bad HP Lovecraft fanfics. It wasn't even the fact that
sometimes when Miranda's pokedex was closed, its batteries yanked
out and buried, and Wraith at least a thousand miles away, safely
locked in his pokeball that the 'dex still occasionally leaked
ectoplasm around its charred edges. It was more the indeterminate,
and only barely discernable aura of "wrongness" that surrounded
the device.
Nearly anyone who came in contact with the practically cursed
artifact felt a feeling quite similar to the sensation one got
when in close proximity of the Lavender Tower. One could almost
feel the negative planar energy flowing in and out of the pokedex.
A feeling that seemed to increase as the night of All Hallow's Eve
approached, and even people who didn't believe in ghost types
still said that it "felt" haunted. The device's aura was so bad
infact, the one person stupid enough to steal it from Miranda was
still sitting in a VERY brightly lit room in the Gringy City
Asylum for the terminally insane.
But none of this bothered Miranda. Anymore. She'd long since tuned
out the occasional quiet screams from her backpack, the people who
fled at the sight of her, making warding signs any time she
actually needed to use the device, and the strange bone chilling
sensation she got while holding it. The courier knew the ghost
that haunted her pokedex, and where his loyalties were.
"Wraith?" Miranda inquired quietly, stifling a yawn as tapped the
small gray screen politely, "You awake dear?"
The response came a moment later in the sound of a quiet creaking,
like the sound of an ancient wooden door being slowly forced open
against the will of its rusting hinges, followed by the sound of
heavy booted feet stomping their way up a flight of rickety wooden
stairs. As the sounds faded, a quiet sinister chuckle filled the
air and Miranda had to smile. Her haunter was courteous enough to
project the effect only into his trainer's mind. There was no
sense waking up the rest of the gym after all.
"G-g-g-good eeeeevening," came the stammered hissing of the reason
Miranda had yanked out the pokedex's speaker so long ago. The
annoying, far too perky at seven thirty in the morning sounding
voice of some nameless lab assistant who probably received
royalties every time some kid pointed his 'dex at a wild pokemon.
The fact that it seemed to be desperately trying to do either a
Vincent Price or Peter Lori impression was its only real saving
grace, so Miranda had yet to chastise Wraith about it.
'Morning, you mean,' Miranda corrected, thinking the words as hard
as she could to ensure the ghost caught them.
'V-v-voice pattern authorization recognized,' the pokedex intoned,
causing Miranda to set the device down with a wary sigh as she
reached for her tea and decided to just sit back and enjoy the
ride.
'Miranda Lilcamp,' the voice stated with a bit of a snicker, not
unlike someone trying not to laugh halfway to the punch line as
the spoken words scrolled up from the bottom of the screen, 'Type:
5'2" to about 5'8"-! Oh-! I mean "Normal"...'
What followed would have caused tea to come out Miranda's nose had
she not been holding it shut to keep from laughing as she
convulsed with contained amusement. 'You really need to get out
more!' sent the courier in a laughing tone as she followed along
with the words written by Wraith to amuse her...
"Miranda Lilcamp
TYPE: 5'2" to about 5'8"-! Oh-! I mean 'Normal'
CLIMATE/TERRAIN: 1313 Mockingbird Lane, Under the stairs (Just
kidding!),
Lavender Town
ACTIVITY CYCLE: Any (But is cranky and irritable first thing
in the
morning)
NO. APPEARING: 1 (Unique)
FREQUENCY: Very Rare
ORGANIZATION: Solitary+Minions- Err, companions... Yes.
That's it!
DIET: Omnivore (But won't eat anything that barks,
meows,
or has a blowhole)
SIZE: M (Height: 5'5", Weight: None of your freakin'
business!)
MORALE: 17/20 (When defending loved ones. Aww...)
CHALLANGE RATING: UNBELIEVABLLY Powerful!!! Oh, I mean 5.
TREASURE TYPE: C (Credit card, funky wooden sword,
artifact level tea cups... Okay, maybe not,
but
they ARE an heirloom!)
ALIGNMENT: Neutral Good (Chaotic Good between the hours of
5am
and 10am)
HIT DICE: 5+2 (30)
INITIATIVE: +3
MOVEMENT: 30/90 (On bike. For short distances/down hills
probably
faster. <shrug>)
ARMOR CLASS: 12/13 (In Winter)
ATTACK: +5
DAMAGE: 2/1D6+3 (Mithril reinforced bokken)
FACE/REACH: 5 Ft.
SPECIAL QUALITIES: Bardic Poetry, Evasion
SPECIAL ATTACKS: Can summon up to 1-3 Pokemon
SPECIAL DEFENCES: Winter clothing provides +1 AC Bonus, Nezumi
and Umi
will fight to the death to save her. Wraith?
Been
there, done that, bought the T-Shirt!:)P
MAGIC RESISTANCE: Nil
SAVES: Fort +3, Ref +7, Will +2
WEAKNESSES: NONE! None I tell you! Oh, sorry...
Ghost/Fighting
Techniques, and her own cooking.
ABILITIES: Str: 12, Dex 16, Con 14, Int 12, Wis 13, Cha 15
SKILLS: Balance 2, Bluff 3, Climb 3, Diplomacy 3, Hide
2,
Knowledge Geography 4, Knowledge History
(Lavender
Town) 3, Intimidation 2, Innuendo 3, Intuit
Direction 5, Listen 3, Move Silently 2, Sense
Motive 4, Performance 8, Ride: Bike 7, Ride:
Motor Vehicle 3, Spot 4, Swim 4, Wilderness
Lore 3
Languages: Common, Rodent, Draconic, Spectral
FEATS: Blind Fighting, Skill Focus (Performance),
Quick
Draw, Weapon Focus (Bokken)
ADVANCEMENT: 1D6+2 HP/Level (Courier)"
Miranda let out a wary, mournful sound as she rubbed her wary eyes
and shook her head. "Wraith, Wraith, Wraith..." she muttered
quietly not noticing as a dark, spectral figure flowed out of the
pokedex and hovered as a gaseous ball of dark purple and black
ethereal smoke.
"Haaaaaunt?" inquired Wraith as he solidified into something more
recognizable, his usual mirth somewhat subdued.
"To speak the name is to invoke the power?" inquired Miranda
rhetorically, peering over her hand and just under her glasses at
the grinning and nodding haunter.
"Tatta!" whispered Nezumi harshly from across the room atop the
dresser, causing Miranda to glance over her shoulder in time to
see Misty roll over in her sleep, her hand clutching the thick
blanket as an odd look crossed her face.
"Miri?" she inquired, her voice barely audible.
"There in a second," the courier promised, glancing back at the
haunter. "How about we do this in a couple of hours, okay, dear?"
Wraith and Nezumi exchanged pensive looks, and Miranda was certain
that the haunter "sent" something private to the rattata, but it
was still much too early to be bothered by something so trivial.
"Goodnight," Miranda muttered with a dismissive wave of her hand
before setting her tea down for either Nezumi to finish or to
evaporate and shuffled back out of her long shirt before getting
back into bed.
***
"Eh, let 'em sleep for now," commented Nezumi a few minutes later
as Wraith hovered closer to him, a concerned look crossing the
ghost's face, "Humans is sensitive about these sorts a things."
The haunter nodded in agreement, experimentally touching Miranda's
dreams with his mind before quickly withdrawing. 'Curses,' he
thought, knowing better, 'All pleasant. Oh well, there'll be a
yummy, tasty nightmare or two for me to feast upon before this is
over.'
"So," he whispered briskly, turning his attention back to Nezumi,
"How's the tea?"
The rattata grinned at his friend and tapped his forehead with his
paw. "Link up, good buddy," offered Nezumi with a bit more of his
usual levity, "and find out...!"
***
It was nearly noon by the time Miranda opened her eyes again and
glanced at her watch. 'Odd,' she thought, listening carefully, but
hearing nothing other than the sound of Misty's breathing, 'The
terrible trio must have overslept.'
"Must've been all the noise," Miranda chuckled, suddenly realizing
that she was alone.
For a second, a sense of selfish panic shot through her, only to
be dismissed by the sound of the door opening. "Hey, you're up,"
Misty commented with a smile as she entered the room in a
bathrobe, still brushing the water from her hair.
"Actually I'm surprised I got to sleep in this morning," commented
Miranda sitting up as Misty sat down on the bed next to her.
"That's because my sisters left fairly early," Misty explained,
"They left a note saying they'd be back before dark, but I'm not
terribly concerned."
Miranda nodded and reached for the cold tea she'd given up on
earlier, wincing soon afterwards as she realized how strong it had
gotten after a few hours. 'Hm, I still have to ask those two what
they found last night,' she told herself inwardly, but her
attention was mainly focused on Misty as she finished brushing out
her hair.
"You know," she said uncertainly, "I've been thinking of leaving
it down from now on."
"Not a bad idea," replied Miranda with an encouraging smile as she
studied Misty's expression.
"I just think that I've proven my point to the world," Misty
continued after a moment's thought, "I'm not like 'them' and I
think that's as obvious as its ever going to be. Besides, I think
I outgrew that hairstyle a few years ago."
"'Never grow up any more that you absolutely have to,'" quoted
Miranda, finally giving up on the tea.
"Something your dad used to say?"
Miranda shook her head. "Aunt Laurna," she corrected with a
thoughtful look, "I think that's why all the kids like her. She
always used to say that she only became an adult because then no
one could tell her what to do. It's odd how her and my mom are so
different. Oh well."
Misty set down the hairbrush and glanced out the window, for a
moment trying to recall her own parents, only to interrupted by a
sudden odd popping sound and a series of sparks arching into the
air.
"Wha-?!" she began, leaping to her feet and spotting Miranda's
half open pokedex on the floor amongst the clutter. The device
made a whining gurgling sound for a moment, before the dark
spectral shape of Wraith began to emerge.
"Where's Nezumi?" inquired Miranda with an amused grin as Misty
shrank away from the widely yawning ghost.
"Tatta!" the second pokemon called from the top drawer of the
dresser, sticking his head out at the sound of his name.
Miranda sat up properly and slid her hand around Misty's waist,
smiling contentedly as her lover leaned back against her. "Okay,"
she told the two would be spies as Misty handed her her glasses,
"Let's have it."
Wraith nodded and immediately threw up an illusion of the
restaurant's enormous kitchen from his point of view upon first
entering, and panning the image around before heading towards the
cheese room.
"So, besides you guys raiding the fridge did you actually find out
anything useful?" chuckled Miranda, watching a greatly exaggerated
version of Nezumi devour an entire wheel of cheese in one gulp.
Wraith nodded, and both his eyes spun around to the other side of
his body as one of his hands shot out and snatched something from
Miranda's backpack. "Haunt," he replied, tossing Misty the silver
compact disk he'd had Chef Troy's computer make before melting
down.
"Cute," Misty commented, holding the disk carefully as she turned
her attention back to the illusion, "I'll pop it into Violet's
computer and see if there's anything actually useful on it
afterwards."
Wraith nodded insistently for a moment before shifting the image
to show how he'd phased through the wall. What they saw on the
other side made both humans cringe.
"Is, is that what I think it is?" inquired Misty, her tone
sounding queasy as the image panned the room and focused on the
door.
"That's not all," replied Miranda, her tone so serious that for a
moment she actually reminded herself of her mother, "Wraith, pan
back a bit. There."
Miranda leaned forward a little and squinted as the slightly
blurred image from Wraith's memory showed one of the shelves that
lined the walls. Upon one shelf in particular were several brown
wrapped packages with stenciled words that would have meant
nothing to the haunter, but Miranda could read them quite clearly.
'Growlithe, raticate, psyduck...' Miranda assimilated most of the
fairly lengthy list of names and nodded carefully, until the
thought that was brewing in her mind was interrupted by Misty's
sudden lurch forward.
"I think I'm gonna be sick!" came her muffled exclamation as she
covered her mouth and ran from the room.
Miranda glanced at the row of sinister packages one last time and
nodded. "That's enough," she told Wraith before grabbing her
nightshirt and sliding it on before leaving the room.
Wraith nodded again and the illusion faded.
'Think she'll be okay?' inquired Nezumi from the partially open
dresser drawer.
Wraith shrugged. 'You're mortal, you tell me,' he replied glumly,
feeling strangely bad for upsetting his human's lover.
Nezumi sighed warily and shook his head. 'Well, I know how I'd
feel if I just took a bite of one of my friends, but she's a tough
one. I wouldn't worry too much.'
'Think we'll be getting a second shot at that umbreon?' pondered
Wraith aloud.
'I hope so,' chuckled Nezumi, a peculiar gleam shining in his
eyes...
***
Misty sat down on the marble steps leading up to the tub as
Miranda gave the toilet a final flush and sat down beside her.
"You okay now?" she whispered sympathetically, putting her arm
around Misty who was once again covering her mouth and breathing
in long slow breaths.
After a moment, Misty glanced up at Miranda and nodded, her eyes
showing more anger than tears. "If- If I recall Cerulean City's
policy on this, it's illegal to serve psyducks without the person
ordering's knowledge..." she said slowly, wondering if Frank was
available to check up on the law.
"Still," Miranda replied, rubbing Misty's back and trying to give
her some small hope, "Just because they had it in the kitchen,
doesn't mean you actually ate it."
Misty met her lover's gaze with a sudden look of despair. "That's
why you're not freaking out, isn't it?" she said as more of a
statement than a question, causing Miranda's heart to suddenly
sink and her stomach to contract, "What was left of the raticate
we saw. You don't think you actually..."
Miranda turned away, letting Misty's words trail off for the
moment. "Let's check the disk," she said simply, "Let's not make
this any worse than it absolutely has to be."
Misty nodded, leaning against Miranda for support. "You don't
suppose," she pondered quietly, "That this is just a coincidence?
I mean; we didn't actually see Kathy at the restaurant last night.
Maybe that was just some kind of special delicates room. I'm sure
that they had lots of other tasty things stored away elsewhere. I
mean, we did make a rather large delivery and all-"
Her lover turned back to her with a suddenly intense look of
concern. "You don't suppose," inquired Miranda darkly, "That we
delivered that stuff do you?"
"Nothing would surprise me at this point," sighed Misty glumly as
she got to her feet and held her hand out to Miranda, "Now come
one, let's check the disk. If we don't find anything about Kathy
on it, we'll just head back and question James some more."
Miranda nodded defeatedly, gladly taking Misty's hand and letting
herself be pulled to her feet. "There is one thing I'm thankful
for, though."
"Oh? What's that?" asked Misty, guiding her lover by the hand.
"That you don't think I'm crazy," answered Miranda with a weak
smile.
Misty paused and turned towards the courier with a look of mild
amusement. "I can handle crazy," she replied, giving Miranda a
gentle kiss before leading her down the hall, "Now come on, we
have to find out what's up with 'Ces Batards De L'autre Cote De La
Rue'..."
***
Miranda just didn't feel like cheering with the rest of the crowd
as down near the water's edge, Misty's staryu Shadow trounced
another pokemon in nearly no time at all.
"It almost seems somehow unfair," Miranda muttered to the rattata
on her shoulder as they both sat glumly in the bleachers, watching
as Misty took on every challenger she could find in an attempt to
work off a little anger, "She's had that staryu for what? More
than a decade? Shadow's probably the toughest staryu in the planet
by now. Oh well..."
The afternoon had not gone well. The disk Wraith had obtained had
indeed contained useful information, but Miranda knew that it
would. The ghost had a way with computers, and although he was
completely illiterate, he seemed able to read the machine code
side of text files.
Most of the disk was taken up by recipes, most of them calling for
more mundane ingredients, but having extra footnotes about special
substitutions. Infact, Chef Troy had a rather expansive library on
the topic of what pokemon tasted near enough to others to be
substituted without the average person noticing. He also had files
on what could be legally served in what cities, and what pokemon
in general were edible for human consumption, irregardless of
legality or morality.
The files that most interested her, though, had been excerpts from
a series of correspondences from several mysterious benefactors.
At least one who seemed to know exactly what pokemon they both
had. One who seemed to think it would be hysterically funny if
Misty and Miranda both ate meals consisting of as many of their
favorite pokemon as possible.
Chef Troy had added a few notes to this correspondence, detailing
several possible meal choices he could make with the given
pokemon, and the list of ingredients he'd need.
The only bright side to it was that none of Chef Troy's contacts
seemed able to acquire a dratini for him. Miranda had almost cried
when she read the Chef's apology to the benefactor in question,
thankful that at least she'd been spared that. She was also
thankful that both staryu's and starmie's were effectively
inedible to humans, so Misty had at least been saved that
heartache.
The fact that she'd eaten a bit of a psyduck did distress her
though. As much as Misty complained about Kappa, she did care for
the nearly useless creature in her own way.
Another of Chef Troy's correspondents sent him a rather odd list
at his request. It detailed the names of those people on Cerulean
City's city council, as well as the pokemon they owned. It didn't
take long to find the list of possible Recipes and the letter
asking for the additional supplies Chef Troy would require for his
plan to work.
"Hey, kid!" called Frank, interrupting Miranda's dark reverie as
down by the water Misty jumped up, cheering as Shadow scored a
victory against another staryu, "You wanted to see me?"
Miranda glanced over and smiled weakly as her almost uncle sat
down beside her waited patiently for her reply. "I... It's just-"
she began, only to suddenly have Bow come out of nowhere and place
her paws upon Miranda's knees, a pitifully helpless expression
crossing the growlithe's face as she stared up at her.
"Come on," Miranda told her, patting her thigh as Bow let out a
little whine and shuffled on her hind legs, still looking up at
the woman imploringly.
"She's just being lazy," Frank chuckled, reaching over and pulling
Bow up the rest of the way into Miranda's lap.
"I noticed!" commented Miranda, leaning back as Bow stood on her
hind legs again and leaned against the woman in an attempt to say
'hi' to Nezumi. "Ow!" Miranda exclaimed, moving one of Bow's feet
out of a bad spot, "Those AREN'T stepping stones ya know!"
Frank laughed and gave Bow an affectionate pat on the head as she
crawled back into his lap after the look Nezumi gave her. "So tell
me, Miri, what's the problem?"
Miranda took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she turned
all the information they'd found in her mind. "Okay," she said
finally as several people in front of her insisted on doing the
wave, "I have some information about
'Ces Batards De L'autre Cote De La Rue'."
"Hey now, Miri, don't swear!" chuckled Frank, waving his finger
warningly at his niece, "What would your mother say?"
Miranda tried not to smile, but found her Uncle's usual good humor
infectious. "You know what I mean," she chided teasingly, "But
seriously, I have reason to believe that Chef Troy is up to
something distinctly illegal."
"Fishing for magikarp out of season?"
"Blackmail, actually."
Frank searched his niece's eyes for a long moment and nodded. "I
see," he said simply, his cop instincts telling him that there was
much more, "Go on."
"Last night, at the restaurant, he had the City Councilors show
up. Not just because it was the opening and he wanted to make a
good impression, but also to feed them something special," Miranda
explained, her glasses shimmering dramatically as she spoke,
"Something he could use as leverage against them to make the
Council change the laws in Cerulean City. To bring this place
another step closer to being another Viridian!"
Frank tensed at the mention of Viridian City. It wasn't the sort
of place most Pokeforce officers liked to think about too much,
and certainly not with any pride. It was a well-known fact that
that the Rocket's owned Viridian City out right. Not just
metaphorically, but literally. It was said that what Pokeforce
officers there were there, were either crooked, or wished they
weren't. It was only the Pokeforce Security Company's strict rules
about only upholding whatever laws a City put forth that kept the
company in check.
Every city on the continent had the right to self-rule. Each city
and town had a minimum of three councilors who met at least once a
week to discuss any problems that had arisen. The City Councils
didn't just run their respective cities and towns in name, they
ran themselves ran them in fact. The Council members were
traditionally those people who had acquired jobs that were
essential to the city's well being. It wasn't uncommon for larger
cities, like Cerulean itself, to have the head of the garbage
collection agency sitting its council, or the head of the
teacher's union, or even the owner of the local power plant that
kept everyone from freezing in the dark.
The Council generally made decisions that helped the city's
people. Especially considering that the title of Councilor Member
didn't come with any extra perks like actually salary. All the
money the City took in, had to by what was known as a 'Universal
Law' had to be put back into the city. It was a thankless job
monetarily, but it usually kept the citizens happy, and Council
honest.
In Viridian, however, one wrong move by Pokeforce could mean the
end of their contract. And without the handful of actual honest
cops in a town run by gangsters, it meant that a lot of innocent
people would suffer.
Miranda caught the look in her Uncle's eyes and smiled
reassuringly. "Okay," she conceded, "perhaps I'm being a touch
melodramatic, but in Viridian, they have no laws regarding what
can and cannot be served in restaurants. That's what Chef Troy's
trying to do here."
Frank rubbed his stubbly chin thoughtfully for a moment. "By
giving us all a free meal?" he pondered, "Sounds more like bribery
than blackmail."
Miranda gave her Uncle an exasperated look and forced herself to
keep her voice down. "No!" she whispered harshly, "by feeding them
they're favorite pokemon! He thinks he can get them to change the
laws governing restaurants in exchange for not telling the public
what they all had for dinner last night."
Frank's eyes widened for a moment as his niece glanced up at him
in earnest. "M- Miri," the cop stammered, "I- I was there with J-
Jenny... You don't suppose...?"
Miranda glanced down at Bow, who seemed more interested in a
battle between Shadow and a persian than anything else. The woman
nodded her head slowly, her whole body shaking. "I think so," she
whispered in a quiet, carefully controlled tone.
"But, but I'm not even on the council!" croaked Frank, staring
down at his growlithe with a deep sense of stomach turning dread,
his hands held out in front of him defeatedly, "I- I can't have-!"
Bow's head turned and she smiled up at him lovingly, her tail
swishing slowly, giving the man a concerned yip as his expression
became pained. "I know," said Miranda sullenly, "But when Kathy's
involved, expect the worst. I'm sorry, Uncle, but they got us
too."
Frank's fingers clenched into fists as he closed his eyes and took
several deep breaths. "Okay," he said carefully, setting his hands
down, "Please tell me a few things. One, that that sociopath and
her minions are still at the restaurant, two that you have actual
evidence of Chef Troy's crimes, and thirdly..." Frank took a deep
breath, calming his tone and steeling himself to ask the big
question, "That you gathered all this information legally."
Miranda's paled. "Um... No," she said quietly, her gray eyes
dropping in time to see Bow scratching playfully at Frank's hand,
a sign that she was feeling ignored. "I, I actually had Nezumi and
Wraith go in there last night to look for Kathy. I wanted to be
sure she was there before I just ran in demanding her head on a
plate."
Frank's voice was calm and businesslike. "Did they find her
there?"
Miranda shook her head as the crowd around her gave a gasp of
surprise that turned into a cheer. Misty had recalled Shadow and
let loose with Leviathan. "No," the courier replied, "But Wraith
somehow managed to copy most of the relevant information off
Troy's hard drive. He doesn't mention Kathy either."
Her uncle made a thoughtful sound as she looked up to see him
scratching Bow behind the ears thoughtfully. "Do you... Do you
suppose that James guy lied to us?" Miranda inquired sadly.
Frank's gray eyes narrowed slightly as the area was lit up but a
sudden burst of flame and the sound of a screaming shellder. "No,"
he said simply, turning to Miranda with an expression that told
her he was in full cop mode, "I do believe that the 'not so good'
professor Forester was at the dinner last night. It's Todd Burke
and his wife Nancy who weren't there."
His niece's eyes widened for a moment as a few more things clicked
into place. "She told us herself, didn't she?" asked Frank
rhetorically, the look in his eyes showing just how much he loved
piecing together mysteries, "she said 'It's amazing how much you
can accomplish if you're willing to sacrifice a few dozen
dittos'."
"All in the name of science," Miranda added bitterly.
Frank nodded, answering her next question before it could be
asked. "And as for the real Mr. Burke," he paused for both
dramatic effect, and to pull a small rectangular device from his
belt, "Dead. He and his wife were found a few hours after the
dinner at 'Ces Batards De L'autre Cote De La Rue'. Nat down in
forensics says they'd been deceased for at least two days by the
time she got to them."
"So you think they just took their places?" inquired Miranda, her
tone equally rhetorical, "Kathy taking the place of Nancy and
Victor masquerading as Todd?"
Frank nodded. "Remember the poetry contest, Miri?" Frank added,
causing his niece to suddenly shudder with a sudden dark thought,
"That machoke was theirs wasn't it?"
"Tashiro," spat Miranda bitterly, shaking her head slowly as she
clenched and unclenched her fists, "I don't believe this..."
"Believe what?"
Miranda glanced up at her uncle with a look that mingled both
betrayal and anger. "That contest was rigged, Uncle. There was no
way I could have lost. I could have walked on stage and read from
the freaking Neon Town phone directory and I would have won!" she
exclaimed angrily, not caring that several people were turning to
stare at her, "I poured my freaking heart out into a poem that
expressed my love for that woman down there on the field there and
read it aloud to hundreds of complete strangers to show just how
good I am! And it doesn't matter! Because that fragging contest
was rigged! I didn't win because of my talent, I won so that
murdering psychopath could feed me raticate!"
Miranda had risen from her seat, her hands flailing angrily as she
ranted, but now as she sat back down hard upon the long wooden
bench, shaking all over, she hid her face in her hands and choked
back a sob.
"Hey, Miranda," whispered Frank, his hand upon her shoulder as she
leaned closer, "It's alright, kid. You do got talent; I know that,
your lover knows that. All the people who heard you know that.
Heck, even Kathy and Vic can't deny that! You'd've won that
contest hands down even if it weren't fixed. You know that as well
as I do, Miri. You got your Father's talent. Only way better."
Miranda nodded slowly, letting her Uncle hold her for a few
moments as the tears that brimmed in her eyes refused to fall.
"Thank you," she whispered quietly, feeling Nezumi scramble down
into her lap to stare up at he with concern. "I, I just can't
stand the feeling of being conspired against. Not like this,"
Miranda continued, running her fingertips in a line down Nezumi's
back, more to find solace than to show affection but the small
creature dimly understood, "Especially not when I'm tricked into
using my talent to hurt someone I love."
"I hadn't thought of that," Frank replied, glancing down at the
field in time to see Misty walking up the flight of steps between
the benches. Her stance was confident, but her expression was
concerned as the victorious trainer pushed her now soaking wet
from the lake water splashing hair back over her ears with both
hands before sitting down on the opposite side of Miranda.
"Thought of what?" she inquired, immediately putting an arm around
Miranda who needed no further motivation to lean in her direction.
"Ya don't wanna know," answered Frank sincerely, shaking his head
in dismay, hoping that the incident didn't cause his niece to stop
writing.
"It's bad," Miranda replied, her head upon Misty's shoulder as she
wiped away the stubborn tears, "But Uncle Frank's going to help
us. Right?"
Frank glanced at the couple, their eyes looking up at him with
such hope and desperation that his heart swelled in his chest.
'It's good to be a cop,' he sighed inwardly. "No," he said
seriously, shaking his head and trying to keep from smiling as he
clutched his badge and removed it from his uniform, "Not legally."
"Uncle Frank!" they both exclaimed in alarm, about to shout out a
thousand words of betrayal before he raised a hand to silence
them.
"As I said," he assured them dramatically, placing his badge and
service revolver on the now empty bench before him, "Not
'legally'."
Miranda clenched her teeth as she watched her Uncle's tight smile
for a moment, trying to decide whether she should hug or kill him.
"Thanks, Uncle," replied Misty, noticing her lover's sudden
indecisiveness and smiling in sudden amusement, "We don't know
what to expect, so any help you could give us would be great."
Frank nodded once and picked up his revolver and badge once more.
"Well," he said, giving Bow a gentle nudge before getting to his
feet and pinning the badge back on, "what do you say you two
ladies enjoy the rest of the day at the fair? I think it'd be best
if we don't go busting in when there's innocent people around I'm
thinking just after they close might be the best time to go and
have a nice long chat with 'Ces Batards De L'autre Cote De La
Rue'."
Miranda smiled and nodded appreciatively. "Where shall we meet you
then?" she inquired carefully, glancing around to make sure that
any curious listeners had long since moved on.
"The East Gate I suppose," said Frank with a shrug, "It's as good
a place as any. Just after closing, I guess."
"Alright," his niece replied, waving nonchalantly as he jogged
down the wooden stairs, "See you at 1am!"
"So," inquired Misty a few moments later, her wary expression
pensive, "Wanna get something 'real' to eat?"
Miranda nodded, taking her lover's hand and giving it a squeeze.
"Absolutely," she responded, dragging herself to her feet, "I
think I'd like to have a bit of fun before we trek off into the
night to thwart evil."
"That's a little melodramatic, don't you think?" teased Misty with
a laugh, standing and gladly accepting her lover's arm around her
waist.
"Would you expect anything less from me?"
"No way. It's one of the reasons I love you," Misty replied,
giving Miranda a quick kiss before leading them down to ground
level...
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