"Vivian Wyght-Lilcamp-Kozlovski..." The interior of the Courier Club was dimly lit in comparison to the sharp brightness of the Sun's rays that morning, being lit solely by strategically placed, low watt light bulbs, and the occasional candle. Near the front of the Club, the owner had placed a collection of wide round tables with comfortable, if not rickety wooden chairs. Over the years, however, the five generations of couriers who'd frequented the place since its inception had left their names and other graffiti scrawled across the surface of all of them. This hardly bothered the current owner, however. Daniel'd inherited the job from his Father, and he could still identify many of the marks as his own. Along the East wall, terminating in a small, but adequate dance floor, the chairs were high-backed, made comfortable by aging, over-stuffed dark leather, and the rectangular tables between them showed many scars as well. Along the North wall, ran the length of the bar, terminating before it took up too much of the already cramped dance floor. Only its dark oaken surface was free of name and comment scrawling, instead it had its own catalogue of scars. Mostly small claw marks and evidence of drink stains left for too long. Just beyond it was a large ornate mirror that had apparently once resided within in the Tower. It was an eerie thing, bordered by a twisting silver frame that depicted the three stages of ghost development, but the truly unnerving thing about it was that the mirror did not reflect the living, or anything their auras directly interfered with. It still reflected the inanimate objects in the room, the tables, the chairs and the gently flickering candles. But it also reflected ghosts. Even those that had chosen to remain invisible. Daniel had no real answer as to where it had come from. All he knew was that his great-great grandfather had been adventurous in his youth and had managed to return alive from the Tower after two hours with only a cracked rib and a huge, ornate mirror that the ghosts seemed rather reverent of. As the door swung open, and the eyes of the club's many patrons adjusted to the sudden burst of natural light, an immediate cheer rang out in unison. "Miranda!" everyone yelled at the top of their lungs as the courier stopped in her tracks and tried to hide her face while laughing. The first person to run to her side was Zack. The red haired courier laughed as he pulled her hands away and stared up at Miranda, his huge green eyes full of wonder. "You made it!" he exclaimed in absolute amazement, "You're actually here!" "I'm here every year, Zachary," Miranda replied with a bit of a smirk as her old friend cringed at the use of the name. "And she's not alone," commented Misty, peering from behind Miranda and giving Zack a short wave before looking about room. "I didn't think she'd let you go," the psychic said with a chuckle as he looped his arm through Miranda's and dragged her over to his table, "Come on, kid, I'll buy ya drink!" "Kid?" questioned Miranda, quickly snatching Misty's hand to drag her along as well, "I'm not the one who's going around messing with Joy's pokemon." "What?!" laughed Zack as they sat down at a table along the East-facing wall, "It was just a joke! Besides, I was bored." "I don't even want to know how you did it," sighed Miranda, leaning back in her seat and shaking her head in dismay, "Just promise me you won't get bored at my expense." "Again..." the other courier said under his breath, suddenly whistling innocently. "Again?" Zack smiled, his teeth visible as he chuckled to himself. "Most of us have been sitting around bored this morning," he explained, motioning to the odd assortment of couriers around them, "So I had everyone scream your name when you walked in. But... That's not the only thing we arranged." Miranda gave Zack a serious look that reminded him of her mother. "Well, it's not really 'you', exactly," he explained sheepishly as Misty watched the two old friends with amusement, "it involves your mom, actually." A smile crossed Miranda's face as she looked into Zack's eyes a little smugly. "It's your funeral, 'kid'," she teased, "Now then. About that drink you promised?" Zack nodded as he slid out of his seat. "Trust me!" he assured, waving his hands dramatically, "You'll love it!" "He's even more hyper than last time," commented Misty with amusement as Zack wandered off to the long, dark wooden counter at the end of the room, "Does he ever even sleep?" "Nope," chuckled Miranda, grinning as a tall, dark figure stepped up to their table. "Joshua," she said simply, her tone becoming serious, her eyes gleaming with a certain reverence as the haggard figure removed his dark, wide brimmed hat and smiled down at her grimly. "I see that you have a new friend," Joshua said simply, his tone sounding heavy, as thought he weight of many years were upon it. And judging by his thinning gray hair, the long scar down the right side of his face, and of course his one glass eye, it was entirely possible. "Y-yes," Miranda replied, seeming a little nervous, "Please, have a seat, we'll talk." As the dark clothed man sat down in front of them, taking Zack's seat, he set his hat down on the table with a hand that was missing a finger. "Misty," said Miranda, "This is Joshua. He's been a courier for... What is it now? Forty-five years?" "Forty-seven," he corrected, flexing his remaining bony fingers as though to make certain that they still functioned, "I was a courier when you're grandparents were still alive, and let me tell ya, they're gonna have to pry the last package I deliver out of my cold dead hand before I'll retire." Misty gulped, feeling a little unnerved by the inky blackness of the man's deep set remaining eye and the way his skin seemed stretched almost unwillingly across his weather-beaten face. "Um, hi..." she stammered reaching out her hand politely, somehow expecting the worst. The old courier glanced at her hand for a moment before chuckling quietly as though at some private joke. When he did reach out to take it, his grip was firm but not confining, although his skin seemed dry as bone. "Mighty pleased to meet you, ma'am," replied Joshua with a half a smile that made it apparent that he was hiding several missing teeth. "Um, if you don't mind me asking, sir," stammered Misty impulsively, causing the old man to eye her curiously, "How... What happened to your finger?" Joshua leaned back in his seat, a tight smile crossing his haggard face as his old bones creaked a little. "Ah," he said in nearly a whisper, but it seemed as though everyone in the club had heard it, for as the old courier began to speak the quiet sounds of other conversations died almost instantly, as all eyes focused upon him, "She wants to hear 'the liver story'." Miranda pursed her lips as Joshua glanced at her and gave a dry chuckle. "Very well, then, miss," the dark courier replied as he linked his fingers together on the scarred table, "It was about forty-five years ago. Heck, that's before all of ya were even born!" Joshua took a moment to chuckle to himself "Back when we had the worst snowstorm in last hundred. Why, the drifts alone could burry a man! It was also the year that nearly every city on the continent was paralyzed by the Winter's harshness, and the frozen wilderness between them were filled with nothing but pokemon driven half mad with hunger. Even the one's who normally would have avoided humans weren't too picky about attackin' that year. Food was so scarce that a courier with a paper cut would have a pack of wild growlithe on his trail before ya could blink. And they weren't the worst of it." Joshua accepted the steaming mug of something that smelled of cinnamon from Zack before the younger courier backed away respectfully and the old man continued his story. "So there I was," he said dramatically, lifting his empty hand as though to indicate the storm all around him, "four days outside of Saffron City. I was young, brash, and foolish back then. I thought I was indestructible. So when I was asked to deliver a fresh liver to some sick girl in Saffron, I jumped at the chance. I guess I thought of myself as some kinda knight in shining armor or somethin'. "But anyway, as I was sayin', there I was, the middle of the night, the storm raging all around me, when suddenly, I could hear it..." compete silence fell over the room at this point, no one daring to even breath. The rapt fascination of even those who'd heard the story a thousand times before was evidence enough of the Courier Crew's respect for their oldest living member. "It wasn't just hungry. It had gone beyond starving. No, the creature that now stalked me had been driven mad by hunger. Some of you might say that a single, lone houndour pup, barely two years old is hardly much of a challenge, even in the dead of Winter. Well, let me tell ya all that it was so cold that year, that the loss of feeling in my fingers was nothing compared to the fact that all my poke balls were frozen shut. The mechanisms just wouldn't fire, and I couldn't get any help from Nikademus, my raticate. I was on my own, days from civilization, and I had a dark canine on my trail that'd nearly been eaten by his other surviving pack mates in desperation a week before." Joshua took a long sip of the steaming liquid, but didn't seem to notice that it was scalding hot as those listening to his tale shivered involuntarily in the imagined cold. "So, so what happened?" inquired Misty, her fingers tightening as she held Miranda's hand, causing the old man to give a short, distant sigh. "Well, since you asked, ma'am," he continued with smile and a short laugh that revealed that he indeed was missing three of his worn looking teeth, "That houndour followed me for days. I recon it was the scent of the liver I was carrin', 'cause back in them days, we didn't have all them fancy medical advances and all that. Anyway, I traveled non-stop for three days and three nights without sleep, backtracking now and then, hoping the storm would throw him off. But nothin' I did worked. He was a persistent mutt, let me tell ya!" "But then, just a day out of Saffron, it happened," he paused, noting to his amusement that Misty hadn't blinked in some time, "we met face to face just as the storm was beginning to let up. I reached for my sword, and those days, we had fewer laws. We couriers were aloud to carry actual, metal bladed swords! But anyway, I couldn't even feel it in my hand as I drew it. Couldn't feel much of anything at that point, except I knew some little lady was gonna die if I just laid down and became lunch for a hungry houndour. So, I did the only thing I could do..." Joshua put his empty mug down and leaned back again, an amused, thin smile crossing his face as he held up his injured hand. Between his index and middle fingers, he held a minimized pokeball. The last finger on that hand, however, were missing at the knuckle. "We came to an arrangement," he finished, his tone sounding proud as a quiet chuckle that was echoed by several of the other couriers escaped his lips. "So, what happened to the girl who needed the transplant?" inquired Misty after exhaling loudly and falling back into her seat, feeling mentally exhausted by the experience. Joshua smirked a bit before raising his other hand. "We came to an arrangement," he replied, showing off the ornate band of silver on his ring finger, "I told ya I thought of myself as a knight in shining armor." Miranda chuckled as the old man slid back out of the seat and picked up his hat. "Thanks, Joshua," she said in a respectful, but still amused tone. "Wow," muttered Misty, leaning her head on Miranda's shoulder as she assimilated the courier's tale, "He's something else." Miranda nodded in agreement. "Yeah, he was mentor when I first became a courier," she explained a bit pridefully, "But I struck out on my own after a few weeks. I guess I just wanted to be alone back then. Unlike now." Misty smiled happily, her quiet sigh full of contentment. "Good," she said softly, closing her eyes for a moment before someone at near the door suddenly exclaimed in a hushed tone that was full of panic and amusement, "She's here!" Miranda glanced suspiciously over at Zack, who was waving frantically at Daniel behind the bar before rushing to the front of the room. "We'd better not miss this," commented Miranda ruefully, suddenly regretting that she had her back to the door. The two slid out of the booth and went to sit upon two of the barstools in time to see the dozen or so other couriers, even old Joshua, line-up in two parallel lines on either side of the door. Then, as the proprietor grinned broadly and flipped a switch under the counter, music blared through hidden speakers. Above the noise, Zack could be heard, desperately trying to unsuccessfully contain his laughter as the soft music changed, and became the distinctive blare of "The Imperial March" as white smoke rolled in from beneath two strategically placed tables. "Oh dear," chuckled Miranda, finding herself caught up in the moment. "Is this 'normal' for this place?" inquired Misty with a bemused grin. "No," assured Miranda, shaking her head with a bit of a chuckle, "Usually it's worse." A moment later, someone's haunter materialized long enough to grab the door handle and yank it open dramatically before fading from view as the assembled couriers drew their surprising array of wooden swords. Misty made a quick observation that each courier's weapon seemed to suit his or her personality in some small way. Joshua's was longer than anyone else's, which was unsurprising as he was at least half a head taller than everyone else. His blade had been carved in such a way that it had two distinct edges to it, which abruptly ended before coming into the lethal range. The weapon also flared out near the end, and two sharp looking spines jutted out from either side near the hilt that which designed to be held two handed. Another, a woman with an amused smirk and a flamboyant cast about her as her curly brown hair concealed part of her face, drew a sword that seemed almost too thin to be feasibly possible, but Misty quickly remembered that the wooden blades were lined with metal, giving them a strength they wouldn't normally have. But of the odd assortment of designs, Zack's stood out in its own peculiar way. His sword was had a wide curved blade, and appeared to be more of child's toy than an actual cutlass. But as the assembled group took half a step back in unison and as one spun their swords over their hands before holding them up at an angle, Misty could tell that the mischievous psychic knew how to use it. As the door swung open, and a peculiar figure entered the club, the courier's held their swords overhead, crossing them in an honor guard formation as the fog rolled in and the Imperial March droned on. The woman who quite literally glided into room had once had hair as black as midnight, but now the wavy locks that tumbled well past her shoulders were streaked with gray. Her stunning magenta coloured eyes, which now burned with conflicting emotions, were set upon a face that still held a beauty that more than four decades of life couldn't diminish. And as she glared reprovingly at the assembly, the couriers withdrew their swords and knelt respectfully on either side of her. "You people are all crazy," she told them, trying to hide her smirk behind a mask of stern disapproval. "Yes, M'Lady!" the courier's all said in unison, most of them in laughing tones. The woman sighed, shaking her head as she moved the small control unit on her wheelchair's arm forward and moved beyond the precession as the proprietor shut off the music and smiled humbly at her. "What'll it be, Viv?" he inquired, fully aware that Vivian's eyes were locked upon her daughter's as the woman came to a hault a short distance away. "Nothing for now, Daniel," she said in a business like tone before giving her daughter a small, tight smile. "Miranda, dear," she said in a knowing tone that sent an unpleasant shiver down her daughters spine, "I'm glad you could make it." "A promise is a promise, Mother," she replied quietly, hopping off the stool before leaning down to give her surviving parent a hug, "Besides, I don't want you to feel totally abandoned." Vivian raised an eyebrow at the comment before glancing at Misty and smiling warmly as the rest of the patrons went about their business once more and the music returned to the quiet background noise it had been previously. "Ah, Misty is it?" she inquired, holding out her hand as the trainer hopped off her seat to shake the woman's hand. "Yes, Ms... Lilcamp?" Vivian smiled at her seemingly helpless expression. "Wyght, Lilcamp, or Kozlovski," she replied, her tone implying a private joke, "It's all the same really. But I sign the checks 'Lilcamp'. Pleased to meet you, though." Misty nodded as Vivian returned her gaze to her daughter. "I read your letters, dear," she said in a softer tone, her hard gaze softening as Miranda sat back down, looking uncomfortable, "please don't feel bad about letting 'her' get away. It's not the first time, and I doubt that it will be the last-" "The next time WILL be the last," interrupted Miranda through gritted teeth, her tone suddenly angry, her head bowed and her fists clenched, "That woman's caused enough pain and misery already." Vivian sighed, a patient smile crossing her lips as she looked up at her daughter with maternal concern. "You needn't be the soul barer of this pain, my dear. I loved your Father as well." "I know," whispered Miranda, visibly upset, though she shed no tears, "It's just hard. And I really need to get over it, but I just can't." Vivian nodded knowingly. "Though you would deny it, you have his soft heart," she smiled loving for a moment, wishing there was more she could say to comfort Miranda, but chose not to wander the path that lead only to old arguments. "So?" she inquired briskly, her attention turning to Misty once more, "I trust my daughter hasn't been driving you crazy the last several months?" "Oh no!" assured Misty, her orangish hair swishing into her face as she shook her head, "Everything's been great. It's just-" she glanced at her beloved, reaching for her hand- "that I think we both still have a lot of old resentment to work through. She's helped me a lot, and now I intend to help her." Miranda looked up, and found Misty looking lovingly into her eyes. For a moment she tried speak, but found the words catching in her throat as her heart felt not unpleasantly heavy in her chest. "I promised that this year would be different," said the courier, sparing her mother half a glance, nearly unable to tear herself away from the caring look in Misty's eyes, "And it will be. This year I'm not going to spend most of the time moping around in my room, or here. I might even drop by the Cavern if I get the chance." Vivian's eyes widened for a fraction of a second. "Will you also be taking your meals with the rest of the family?" she inquired in a tone that was meant to sound stern, but held a spark of amusement. Miranda smiled, trying to hide her quiet chuckle. "Yes," she assured her Mother, "We'll be there for supper. I already promised Bob we would." The older woman gave a satisfied smile and nodded thoughtfully. "Do you have any food allergies we should be aware of, dear?" she inquired of Misty, half startling her. "Oh, uh, just hot peppers," she replied, finding it somewhat difficult to look into Vivian Lilcamp's eyes for any period of time. There was just something about the woman that said that she could peer right into someone's soul, and Misty found it a little unnerving. "Very well, then," said the ruling matriarch of the Lilcamp Trading Company, going back to her more business-like tone as her wheelchair slid backwards a short distance before executing a tight turn, "See you both at dinner, then." "We'll even do the dishes!" laughed Miranda once her mother was half way to the door, causing her to stop abruptly and spin quickly around, her hand over her heart in mock disbelief. "Miranda!" she joked, causing the couriers in the room to chuckle boisterously, "Don't do that! You'll give your poor old mother a heart attack!" "Bye!" laughed Misty, noting the spark of true amazement in the woman's eyes beyond the sarcasm. "See you there, Mom," Miranda replied quietly as Misty pulled Miranda to her feet. "Come on," she said, feeling tense and energetic as she dragged her lover by the hand to the open area, "you owe me a dance." "I do?" the courier chuckled, suspiciously, "When did that happen?" "Since I said so," her lover laughed in a teasing reply as they joined two other couples who found the slow song that was currently playing too good pass up, "Unless you dance as well as you cook?" Miranda gave her a peculiar expression, and glanced around nervously. "Well, I don't think my dancing'll burn the place down," she admitted, feeling suddenly thankful for Misty's impulsiveness, "So I guess we won't have to worry too much..." "Oh come on, you!" Misty laughed, taking a firm hold of Miranda's right hand, and sliding her arm about her waist, "It's easy, you don't even have to think about it." Miranda nodded compliantly, her smile looking wary. "You know that I can deny you nothing," she said, pulling her beloved closer and kissing her gently as she tried not to trip over Misty's feet. Misty nodded, letting go of Miranda's hand and putting both arms around the courier as she searched for the right words. "Miri, about your mom," she said carefully, waiting for a reaction but receiving only Miranda's patient look, "Is there any thing you wanted to talk about? You seemed rather... Tense." The courier shrugged thoughtfully. "Oh, it's just the same old thing," she explained half dismissively, "She wants me to stay here. And, I dunno; get an admin job or something. But, you know..." "Everything here reminds you of your Father," said Misty, completing the thought as she now so often did. Miranda nodded. "I would, you know," she confessed, stumbling over her own words for a moment as a sudden sadness crept up on her, "But I'm just not ready. Not until I've settled this. Not until my dad can rest in peace." "Shh, I know," Misty whispered sympathetically, holding a finger to Miranda's lips, "It's alright. You don't have to justify this to me. I'm on your side, and I'm here to help you." "I've never doubted that," Miranda sighed, finding their slow movements across the floor becoming more natural, "And I've long since added it to the reasons that I love you. Say, it's almost lunch time, but what do you say I show you something first?" "What? Here? Now?!" teased Misty with mock surprise, finding it amusing how easily it was to make Miranda blush lately, "On the dance floor? With all these people wa-!?" Miranda quickly covered Misty's mouth with her own, looking around nervously Zack leaned over from his seat and laughed, just before a gastly materialized in the center of the room and gave a quick warning sound. "Its Alex!" exclaimed one of the other dancing courier's as he and his partner suddenly began riffling through their pockets. "What now?" inquired Misty, finding the continuingly changing gag amusing, even as people began slumping over tables and lying on the floor after breaking small capsules of fake-blood on themselves in strategic places. Even Daniel, the owner, smashed an empty bottle on the counter before squishing a small red capsule on the back of his head and slumping over the bar, making it seem as though he'd been hit with the bottle. "Shall we?" inquired Miranda in an amused, yet wary tone. "Yes. Let's," Misty replied in good humor, finally identifing the feelings she felt as they both carefully laid down on the floor. 'These people are like a family,' she mused as they lay on their backs, their fingers linked together as she tried not to laugh, 'And I guess I'm part of that now...' The door suddenly banged open and someone screamed. "Oh no!" came the suddenly cracking voice of Alex, the youngest courier on staff, "What happened?!" The young courier immediately ran into the room, glancing around helplessly as several older couriers began making low, frightful moans. Alex's crystal-clear blue eyes then went wide as everyone began to rise from their often somewhat awkward positions. "Aaaaaallllex," came Zack, his voice sounding as though he'd been dead a long time, the gastly who'd given the warning started weaving small illusions that made him seem a little more gaunt as someone else muttered, "Braiiiins." "What do you want?!" exclaimed Alex, drawing his wooden sword in a bit of a panic as someone suddenly gripped his shoulders from behind, causing him to jump and drop the weapon. "To wish you a happy birthday!" exclaimed Zack as everyone started laughing and the gastly made several small illusions of simple red fireworks above his head. "Uh! You guys are all crazy!" exclaimed Alex, nearly pulling out twin clumps of his pale yellow hair, before calming down enough to laugh about it. "This is a factor you had not considered?" inquired Joshua in a dark tone as he released the frightened and now amused courier's shoulders, "A courier's life isn't as easy at it seems. Thus a little insanity now and then, helps to keep us all the more sane." As Alex nodded, Misty glanced at Miranda who was even now helping her off the floor. "Um, there aren't any 'real' zombies, are there?" she inquired carefully. "Oh, not exactly," Miranda replied with equal caution, "But that was a long time ago, and my Aunt tells the story better. Infact, that's one of the events going on later tonight." "You're unleashing zombies into the world?" laughed Misty nervously. "Goodness no!" laughed Miranda, giving her lover's hand a reassuring squeeze, "It's just my Aunt telling the history of the Tower. Well, the children's version, anyway. Tomorrow's the version that actually tells you everything you wanted to know but were afraid to ask." "Even about zombies?" Miranda nodded grimly. "Oh, and they don't actually eat brains." "They don't?" inquired Misty nervously, almost sounding hopeful. "Of course not!" exclaimed Zack, popping up out of seemingly nowhere with a disgusted look upon his face and a poorly faked upper class British accent, "We don't want to eat your brains. That's disgusting! We just want to eat your skin!" Miranda glowered at him as Misty cringed before reaching out her hand and flicking the end of his nose as hard as she could with her index finger. "'Be gone evil spirit'," she quoted as Zack fell to the ground feigning extreme pain. "Ahh! It burns! It burns!" he called after them, getting at least a few laughs. "See you tomorrow night!" called Miranda in a general sense, waving to the assembled courier's before heading out and leaving the ambient craziness behind.
Back to Lavender Ghost Story Index - Back to Pokemon Shoujo-Ai Fanfiction