Love Lost, Chapter 6b: Ascensions, concluded.
#12 of Love Lost
Love Lost, Chapter 6b: Ascensions, concluded.
The next morning proved quite cold but without new snow falling, leaving only a few inches in places on the ground from the day before. Burner escorted Joe to school, providing a welcome source of mobile warmth at intersections, although it did come with a complaint that Joe was wearing an old jacket instead of a new one. The blaziken was not without ulterior motives, however. While there was a bit of pride involved--Burner noticed every head that his presence turned as he saw Joe off--he also hoped to be at Rennin Park in time to be met by his weekday sparring partner, rather than late enough to meet her. It was his new form's first-impression after all.
He set a paper sack containing snacks and a few training supplies on the concrete bench near the improvised circle, and looked around. He then checked a nearby tree, which stood unoccupied except for a fluffed-up spearow that seemed ready to fight for his naked branch. Burner returned to the bench and sat upon it beside his sack, and took a pose not unlike that of The Thinker. Appropriate, as he thought about many non-specific things until a feminine voice sounded beside him and its owner gripped his shoulders, squeezing them with a slightly rolling motion.
"Wow, is all of this for me?" she asked.
He turned to watch Alice as she hopped down from the table's surface to stand near him and retorted, "Are you ready to handle all of this?"
Alice's expression became less playful for a beat, "Not really," before returning as it was, "but you'll go easy on me until I am."
Burner rose from the bench and took a half-step while turning his towering form toward her. "Not too easy, of course."
A flurry of frost from frozen grass blades kicked up as Alice employed a quick-attack to get beside Burner and slam the back of her fist into the depression behind his right knee, causing his stance to partially collapse. "Of course. I wouldn't like you any other way. Meet me in the circle when you find your balance." Alice skipped to where she estimated the center of the ring hidden beneath a blanket of snow lay and beckoned Burner with a flippant gesture.
Hunter Hague awoke emitting an anguished yell as a terrible weight seemed to be crushing his chest. So painful it was that he struggled not only to breathe in again, but to open his eyes and see what stood upon him. When he managed, he saw a great bird looming over him, pinning him down with its right foot and staring fiercely. Hunter quickly analyzed his situation. If this ho-oh intended to kill him, he would be dead; it wanted something else. He glanced to his sides. His left arm was caught by a talon, and would feature a terrible gash instead of a puncture if he moved it. His right arm was free, and within reach lay scattered what remained of his equipment, including a knife, a large-caliber pistol, an emptied flask, and a master ball provided by his employer.
The bird grumbled, forcing two small plumes of fire through its nostrils. Hunter realized that he was expected to choose a weapon. He slowly ran his hand over all of the items, watching the phoenix for a tell, but its gaze proved unwavering. With a nervous gulp, he scooped up the master ball and pressed its trigger as he shoved it against the bird's plumage.
His eyes bulged as the ball buzzed and ejected its button cap.
The bird cawed a sound that sounded like laughter; little wisps of flame bursting from its beak at a dangerously close proximity to Hague's face. It then tucked its beak into dense feathers near its left wing and extracted a folded fragment of paper, dropping it beside Hunter's hand.
Hague released his dud ball from his grasp and slid open the note: "Enough. Go home!" in a gentle form of cursive. He grunted. "I work for Mr. Well, I don't get the luxur--ahhh!"
The ho-oh's grip tightened, squeezing the air from his chest again and truncating his excuse. The ho-oh spread its wings and took flight with Hunter as an economy-class passenger.
As flakes of snow fell, those in a particular arc across the sky glittered with rainbow colors above Sabrina, who stepped out from the bushes and collected Hague's pistol, knife, and ruined master ball. The ball was her prize, a memento of another sucker who went through a lot of trouble to wind up empty-handed. She tossed the gear carelessly into the passenger seat of her jeep and drove to a place near her ho-oh's lair to bundle up and wait to be warmed again.
The skies over Rennin cleared somewhat, and by noon the sun shined brightly. Rennin Park's vast expanse of terrain reflected a blinding white, except for a wide circle of bare grass and tilled soil, its covering melted away by a fiery warrior. At its center lay a small jackal, recovering from exhaustion with a paw putting pressure on her snout.
The warrior sat beside her, opening a paper sack. "I'm sorry I hit you too hard. I got worked up and usually you deflect those sorts of punches."
"I thought I did deflect it. Anyway, it's just a bloody nose. You're the one who immediately let your guard down and got laid out by my reversal."
Burner dropped a few berries on her chest.
She popped one into her mouth and ate it like she were starving.
Burner picked out a few for himself and laid down, too. He raised his arms and folded them beneath his head, closed his eyes, and relaxed, falling half-asleep until Alice shook him gently.
"Hey. Not to sound greedy, but can I have some more?" she asked.
"Help yourself to anything you like, but I think there's just a couple sprays and a little Halloween candy in there."
Alice sifted through the bag and found a small paper box with a wire handle, crushed almost flat by neglect, and read its label to herself. She knew where the box came from; her gift was a tiny calendar with a series of dates circled on them. The last circled day was this day, with little marks around it like a symbolic sun. She looked at her sparring partner, and figured that he was almost asleep. Kneeling and leaning against his firm torso, right elbow propping herself up, rising and falling with the rhythm of his breath, she picked up the small box with her left paw and shook it to listen to its contents rattle. "We're best friends, aren't we?"
Burner groaned a little and mumbled, "Yeah."
"Do you think we'll always be?"
"Sure. Why not?"
She lifted her weight from his chest and slipped a clawed digit beneath the box's flap. "Not counting your trainer or his pokemon--'cause they're like family--if you could only have one outside friend in the whole world, would you feel any regret if that friend was me?"
"No. I might feel bad if it wasn't you." Burner raised himself up a little, opening his eyes to look into hers. "Would you regret it if you only had one friend and it was me?" Her gaze drifted to the side, to the box, but Burner did not notice their new target and settled down again with a faint groan.
Alice slid open the box's flap and found a cracked rare candy inside. It shined iridescently in the sunlight. She moved closer to whisper to him. "I wouldn't regret it for a second."
Burner opened his eyes again and saw a grin grow across her muzzle. Then, she popped the candy into her mouth.
He sat upright. "Alice, was that a--"
Alice tried to affirm vocally but choked a little and nodded instead. Seconds later, she felt a sensation that began as a tickle but became a blaze as it spread throughout her body. On shaky limbs she crawled against him and found her voice with a gulp. "Hug me, Burner."
He sat upright and held out his arms; she leapt into him and turned, pressing her back against his chest as he wrapped her tightly.
Alice spasmed with a jerk. "Promise me you'll hug me until I'm through this, and that you'll never finish hugging me."
Burner used his beak to catch the loose ends of Alice's ribbons and pulled their knots free as her sensory organs bulged. "I promise." Like a living straight-jacket, he held her restrained as she thrashed through her transformation. Her yells and cries drew the attention of occasional pedestrians passing by Rennin Park, but they were driven off before forming an audience by Burner's cold glare.
"Of course I'll be there, your Honor. Even I can't win them all, right?" So engrossed in his conversation with Justice Barlow, Mr. Well did not notice as Ivana squawked and quite literally flew across Simon's office, away from its great doors. He did notice when the doors' glass shattered from the impact of Hunter Hague being thrown through them by a legendary phoenix.
Justice Barlow inquired about the commotion he heard over the line.
Mister Well replied first with a hearty laugh. "Oh, another of my batters has struck out. Yes, back to the minors with all of them! Well, the ones still living."
Hague crawled to Mr. Well's desk and reached for its top surface to aide him in pulling himself up. Ivana pecked his hand and inspected the bloody print it left behind with disdain.
"We'll talk again." Mr. Well hung up his telephone and rolled in his chair beside Hunter as he struggled to stand without being pecked for further staining the furniture. Glancing through the window opposite his shattered doors, Simon gazed at the spectral shine of a setting sun's light reflecting off of an elusive quarry's feathers. "Our arrangement was for you to bring me a ho-oh, not vice-versa."
Finally on his feet, Hague was not in the mood for wordplay. "You said there were no trained ho-oh in Ocimene."
"There aren't."
"The ball you gave me scanned that bird and popped its cap, so either your information is out of date or you're full of shit."
"Neither is particularly likely, Hunter, but I expected a professional of your caliber to have been able to overcome trivial set-backs nonetheless. Ivana, he hasn't been thrown around enough today. Drop him off at the hospital helipad before he bleeds on anything of value."
Ivana blasted Hunter in the face with frost. She leapt on him as he fell to the floor again, gripped his back with her talons, and carried him away to be tended to by persons who care about the unsuccessful.
James wiped a bit of sauce from his lips. "Tell me if I have this right. The annoying shrieking hell-beast that's been tormenting us for months won't leave, but the sweet polite puppy who makes the best ravioli I've ever eaten can't stay?"
Alice beamed and cleared the table's empty places. "Thank you for the compliment, Sir, but I do have my own place. If that's an open invitation, though, I'll accept it."
"Well, at least stay around a couple more hours. It's family movie night." Alice prepared a comment in response but forgot it as, continuing, James looked toward the ceiling and shouted, "No ghosts allowed!"
Alice became a little concerned and beckoned James aside as the others left the dining table. "Sir, I would like to ask a question that's really none of my business."
"Sure, shoot."
"Your household seems to treat pokemon with human respect, but you exclude your misdreavus in such an," her ears drooped a bit, "almost hateful way."
"That ghost made it clear that it doesn't want friends, so we're not going to act like we are," James began walking away, "or put on a show when company calls."
In the living room, Joe re-arranged the furniture somewhat while Burner brought a couple extra chairs out from storage. Grace examined the film's case. In a house full of boys, a genre she enjoyed came around about as often as the new moon. Tonight it happened to be, but no luck this time. She cast the case aside carelessly and floated to the kitchen's window. The sun had set and the sky was clear and bright.
Alice saw her look at the case, and asked, "What are we watching?" while she finished cleaning their dishes.
"Some old import comedy."
"Oh? I love those. Daddy got me a little video player and when we traveled through a town, we would pawn old movie discs and chips for a few different ones."
"Daddy?"
"My trainer. He's--" Alice closed her eyes and tested her enhanced aura perception to ensure no one was near enough to eavesdrop. "I guess there's no sense in hiding it from a Psychic. Politeness is the only reason you haven't seen already, so go ahead and look."
Alice knelt as Grace approached and placed her palms on Alice's temples. At first, Grace saw what Alice wanted her to see. When she dug deeper, Alice snatched her palms away.
"No! Please, don't. Even in Daddy's care, there were some bad times that I don't want to remember, or share. And before that--" Alice glanced aside with her ears folding down.
Burner entered the kitchen. "The movie starts in a few minutes. I'm making popcorn; do you girls want some?"
Alice stood up straight with a smile. "Popcorn isn't one of the three foods no lucario can resist, but I'll make room. Grace?"
Grace shook her head. "No, I'm not going to watch that show."
"Okay. Well, if I don't see you before I go, it was nice visiting you tonight." Alice glanced at Burner, who was rummaging through the kitchen while his corn popped.
Burner hollered to the living room. "Where's the popcorn salt?"
Joe called back, "With the rest of the shakers!"
"I looked there, and in the cabinet."
Joe entered the kitchen, "I know it's right there," and started looking where Burner looked moments before. "Did you move it?"
Alice knelt again and whispered. "You and I need to get together again soon. I think both of our guys suffer a serious case of oblivious." The girls stared at them--between them, actually--at a shaker of popcorn salt standing on the counter.
Grace giggled. "Do you think we can cure them?"
Alice rose, parted the myopic morons, and brought the salt to their attention by holding it up and shaking it.
Burner took it from her with an embarrassed caw. "Uh. Thank you."
Alice strutted away, stifling a laugh, as Joe gently slapped Burner with the back of his hand and said something about making them both look silly, starting a whispered argument.
Grace levitated to match Alice's level and Alice took Grace by her hands, shaking them once with a small jolt. She stared into Grace's eyes with a look of absolute seriousness. "Working together, we have to cure them, because they'll drive us crazy if we don't." Alice turned back to face them and stepped slightly aside to ensure Grace too had a clear view. "And, we wouldn't give them up for anything."
Everyone watching was fully engrossed by the film within minutes. Its surreal nature was sharply enhanced by being both an import and being from an era where something with the features of a trainer's device would be a futuristic tool of tomorrow. Grace found no difficulty in borrowing Joe's jacket--which she wore more like a poncho than a jacket due to her size--and slipping out into the backyard. With a levitation-assisted leap, she bounded to the rooftop, cast away some of the snow to provide a place to lie, and settled down to stare upward. The moonless sky and Rennin's lack of a night life meant that the stars above were free to put on the best show in town, even if it was suffering lower attendance than the ribald affair presented inside on James' television screen.
The air was still enough that Grace's exposed feet did not mind the cold, until a sudden chill brushed through them.
"You know, it kinda makes me wonder if she does that to annoy me," spoke an equally-chilly voice.
Grace looked down and across her body to see Marianne's two-tone eyes glowing bright in the night.
The ghost continued. "I was at rest when she broke into my master's house and started squatting the place up. I let her have that shit-hole, moved over here, and voila, she pops up again just when I'm feeling at home." Marianne spat off of the rooftop, a mysteriously purple-colored fluid crystallizing in the cold winter air. "What a pest."
"Pest? Even James seems to like her."
"Because she's a suck-up kiss-ass who made him dinner."
Grace leaned back and looked upward again. "I thought about that, but I got a few reads on her. She wants to be a friend to us; and to Burner, something more."
" 'Us,' huh."
"Yes. You included. I think she thinks you're part of this family, too."
"She's an idiot on two counts, then. Why would she want to be part of this family when it can't even be bothered to buy a little pebble and help a lost soul with her evolu--so that's it! She and your combat chicken got all lovey-dovey, made her happy enough to evolve, and now she's rubbing it in my face by coming around and saying, 'Look at me, I'm cute and nice and I can cook 'cause I have bones and flesh!' Well, that's not very nice, now is it?"
Grace sighed heavily, exhaling a small puff of fog. "Believe what you want to believe, Misdreavus."
"Marianne."
"Huh?"
"Me. I never told you guys my name because I didn't want to hear it again. Only my master needed to use it, and for some reason I can't remember his voice, except for how he said my name. I was kinda afraid that if I heard someone else say it, or say it wrong, I might lose that, too." Marianne floated upward somewhat, looking at the brightest star above.
Grace looked at it also, through the violet haze of Marianne's tenuous form. "Why don't you tell me about him? Maybe it will help you remember things."
Marianne chose to proceed, but only after much consideration. "I found him when he was young. He was plagued by nightmares; not of anything in particular, though. It was like his sleeping mind liked scaring the shit out of his waking one. At first he was just a bonanza food source to me, but after a while I started feeling bad for him. His parents put him on pills but they didn't work. His grades were always bad and in high school, he got the idea in his head of hanging himself the next time his parents were out of the house. As he suffocated and his mind slipped into subconsciousness, I sensed what he was doing, so I grabbed him and pulled him through his noose. When he came-to again he freaked out, blaming me for all of his nightmares. There was no speech T.M. back then, but pointing to the last day on his calendar and shaking the noose at him was enough to communicate that I wanted him to live a little longer. Night after night, he was my guinea pig. It wasn't until the 27th that I found a way to use the dream-eater technique to absorb his nightmare itself, rather than his energy through it." Marianne turned her gaze from the sky to the kirlia. "And, that was that. Years later, he got his master's degree."
Grace leaned up and asked, "So it was a symbiotic thing between you?"
The ghost looked skyward again. "At first, but it changed at some point. We had an argument--a stupid one, but a big one--and I stormed off. I figured the nasty nightmares would come right back and he would apologize out of necessity if not humility. They didn't, though. I had fixed him. He was all better. Through the coming months, he got on with life. Dated a few chicks, had some of the guys from work come over to play cards, typical bachelor stuff. I'd snipe a dream off of him or one of the broads for my own health, but otherwise I was a ghost of a ghost. One night he came home and made a big dinner for two. I figured it's another date and readied myself to siphon a little love energy. Not as good as a night-terror, but it's still primitive brain-waves. He sits at the table and he waits, and waits; all evening long, staring at the other side, food getting cold, candles burning down to their holders. Finally he shoved his plate away, folded his arms on the table, and started crying. It wasn't until he said, 'I miss you,' that I realized what the damned date was: February 27th."
"What did you do, then?" asked Grace.
"I comforted him. At least, as much as a bone-chilling cloud can. We made-up and vowed to never be idiots like that again. Later on, he captured me, gave me a name that he thought had a beautiful sound to it, and we lived happily ever after."
Grace scooped up some snow and packed it into a ball to play with. "That's a nice ending for your story."
Marianne spat over the edge of the rooftop again. "It's a fucking lie, that last part; I got him killed. I wanted to evolve and he didn't want me to. Always said he liked seeing me the way I was when he woke up from his first peaceful night's sleep. But while I never changed, he did. He grew up, he grew older. I insisted that he get me a dusk stone and I nagged him until he finally ordered one through the Pokemon League Supply Network. We got a call that it was delivered at the center. He said he'd get it tomorrow, but I couldn't wait. I yelled, I screamed, I pulled what was left of his hair. Finally that night he caved and went to pick it up."
Marianne sank downward to the snowy surface of the roof.
"Two blocks from the center, he got hit by a drunk. He didn't die then, though. He suffered in the hospital for a few days before his body finally gave up. They didn't want me haunting his room but they couldn't drive me off without a fight, so I stayed there the whole time. All I could do was apologize, and all he could do was lie there. I must have said I was sorry a hundred-thousand times. Finally, he gasped and whispered one last thing: 'Marianne, go home and wait for me. I'll come back as a ghost and we'll be together again. I promise.' That's why I need a dusk stone. Until I evolve, he died for nothing. After I evolve, he still died for nothing, but at least a stupid rotten bitch will have what she got him killed for."
There really was not much for Grace to add, but she hoped to at least establish some common ground. "Joe doesn't want me to evolve either."
Marianne slowly rotated to face Grace with a scowl while emitting an ætherial growl. When she stopped, she spoke with a downbeat tempo. "Harvey wanted me to stay as I am because it reminded him of the day I saved him from himself and the day I gave him a new chance at living a normal life. You want to evolve so you will have your best body warming-up his bed before his puberty kicks in fully and he starts getting embarrassing stiffies for the girls at high school. You selfish whore."
Grace bolted upright. "Ghosts may be strong against Psychics, but I can still glean your emotions. I felt your jealousy when you spoke about the other--human--women Harvey slept with, and I've got a gut feeling you wanted to evolve so you could be more than just a foggy head in his bed before he got too old to do anything with you."
A terrible shriek echoed across the rooftops of Rennin's south-eastern residential district as Marianne flew around Grace's head and clamped onto her hair with her mouth and tendrils. She yanked the kirlia off of the roof, and using a ghost's ability to pass through matter, pulled her down into the icy waters of the swimming pool through its protective covering.
Inside the Rainier home, a group of cinema fans asked each other what that strange sound was, and lacking a satisfactory conclusion, watched their film's third act in peace.
Beneath the pool's cover, Marianne assaulted Grace, using her primal fear of drowning to track her in the wet darkness. Sensing the ghost directly was difficult for Grace, but as Marianne was using her fright-absorption powers, her necklace glowed, giving Grace enough of a target to strike with a confuse-ray and get a few clear seconds to teleport through the cover's membrane.
Marianne tried to repeat her stunt a couple times, but Grace was prepared and did not let the Ghost pull her down again. Their battle became more traditional, exchanging attacks as they floated inches above a snowy and wet tarpaulin that served as their combat circle. In the near total darkness, their fight was practically invisible, and aside from grunts and groans, mostly silent until Marianne finally gave up, sort-of.
The ghost was half buried in the snow just beyond the pool's edge. Grace approached slowly, far too exhausted to levitate.
Marianne's facial features coalesced with a grim smile illuminated by her necklace while Grace was still many meters away. "Are you deaf?"
Grace wiped some blood from the corner of her mouth. "No."
Marianne drifted upwards from the snow. "Good."
Grace sensed serious danger on Marianne's mind as she began to rise from the snow and sing a perish-song. Instinctively and instantly, Grace re-located behind Marianne and slugged her in the back of her head, sending her flying into the east fence, scattering her necklace's beads. Realizing that her battle was over, the adrenaline rush left Grace in a mixed-up state, feeling like she was freezing from the pool water that coated her body, and feeling like she was burning from the inside-out. She knelt and curled up, too exhausted and out of breath to even cry for help. She shivered, rolled onto her side, and gripped her sensory horns in pain.
"What is it?" Burner was becoming rather distracted by Alice as she kept looking to her right every few minutes.
"I don't know. My aura sense is better now, but I haven't learned to actually read it, yet. I know something strange is happening to the east, though."
James took a swig of soda. "Maybe it's more poachers. They like our backyard."
Joe asked, "Who could it be? I mean, everyone here's here except Grace. She usually naps in my room if she isn't into the movie."
Alice's eyes grew wide as her sensors lifted and she twisted in her seat to face both Joe's room and the backyard. "No, she's not in your room. It is Grace out there and--" Alice sprang up and dashed to the back door with the rest of the Rainier family behind her. Light from the kitchen window and opened door revealed nothing, and everywhere else was black as pitch. "To the left," Alice advised.
Burner stepped into the darkness. "Stand clear of me." The feathers of Burner's left foot suddenly burst into flame as he swung a blaze-kick through the night.
A flash of orange glow reflected upon a humanoid form on its knees near the pool cover's edge. Joe immediately recognized its profile from months before, but this one was slightly different.
Its eyes shined a shade of green instead of red, and it wore his jacket.