The CANALAVE Team

"It a kind offer...Jerome?" The Haunter's voice rises at the end on the sentence, unsure if he could trust his fading hearing to have picked up the name correctly.
With an eloquent sweeping bow that is merely a shift in the swirling of his gases the Haunter greets the tall dark/steel type.
Its movements were stiff, mechanical and its voice much the same but it was polite at least, a rare quality in this time but it seemed Namdnas had found himself in pleasant company.
Vaguely he wonders at the creature's blue coloring, it seemed very much to be similar to Courtney apart from that minor detail.
His memory was faded and he had never really traveled further than Hoenn.
Perhaps it was simply normal for the species.

He bows also to the powerfully built grass-type in reply.
"Yes if there are others we must wait for their return. A few more moments will not make much difference."
The Haunter smiles vaguely as if trying to remember something he has forgotten.
Whatever it was the moment soon passes and the ghost type settles down, almost touching the ground.
He surveys the group with his red eyes then takes a careful watch on the surrounding, being careful that there are no other infected lurking nearby to take advantage of them.
Fortune has not been in large supply here, something the old tired Haunter hopes to change.

[[I just entered the safehouse cuz I'm leavin for a week! It's DreamingAura's turn]]

The Gallade pulled away when he heard Natsumi. He tried to catch his breath as his head felt alittle funny. A slight buzz was ringing inside his head, though he wasn't sure why. As he looked at Natsumi it hit him. I'm drunk. That's what it is. I've gotten drunk on this feeling. Apollo held the Zoroark so to his body. He wanted more. Oh, so much more, but he didn't want to come off as greedy, but he was already drunk on the feeling and he didn't want to let it go just yet.

Then again, he didn't want to lose Natsumi either, so he just hugged her. Alright, lets go. He looked away from her eyes. Apollo didn't want to see her look at him right now. No, thats not it. He didn't want to look into Natsumi's eyes for fear he might lose himself or even worse. So he started to walk, or in this case stumble back toward the others.

As the Gallade and Zoroark walked back to their friends, Apollo fiddled with his fingers as he forced himself not look at the Zoroark. All Apollo wanted right now was to drown himself in Natsumi's kisses. That kiss meant so much for the Gallade, but he had no idea what or even how the Zoroark felt about. He had his guess, but he wouldn't know unless he asked, but he just did want to lose himself like he did earlier. He sighed and looked at Natsumi from the corner of his eye, Hey um, Natsumi, h-how do you feel about the whole um, scene earlier? He gulped slightly, afraid of what the Zoroark might say.

Alright, lets go. Natsumi heard Apollo say softly as he held her close and hugged her. She was glad that he was willing to ease off for now until he was healed though the Zoroark didn't want this moment to end between them she also didn't want Apollo to pass out from blood loss either if she can prevent it. She was just brought back from the dead and she didn't want to lose him after coming back. She noticed from the corner of her eye, as the two of them headed back to their friends and she making sure Apollo didn't fall, that Apollo was fiddling his fingers and avoiding looking her in the eyes. She had an idea why he was doing that and felt a small smile come from her lips as she thought about that. She was also trying not to catch Apollo's eyes at the moment as she reached up with one of her clawed hands to gently touch her lips as she remembered the kiss they shared. The feeling she got from that kiss made her feel so warm on the inside. Hey um, Natsumi, h-how do you feel about the whole um, scene earlier? Which caused the Zoroark to turn to look at Apollo as they walked and smiled softly as she said, "I really like it Apollo." She reached up to touch her lips again and moved to nuzzle Apollo's neck with affection as they walked. She wasn't trying to cause another scene to happen so soon, at least not until Apollo was healed, but she felt that she needed to do that.

Courtney grew worried as the shiny Bisharp remained silent. Namdnas thought it was a kind offer for Jerome to help with the burial. The Pawniard agreed with him. It was kind of him to help with a burial for someone he didn't even know. However, the kind Haunter said something that Courtney had completely forgotten about. "Yes if there are others we must wait for their return. A few more moments will not make much difference." Courtney then realized that the Gallade and the Zoroark.

"I could go get them. Be right back." Courtney said out loud. Without waiting for a response, the Pawniard was already out of the pokemon center. She wandered through the streets, looking for Apollo and Natsumi. When she turned a corner, she found them. The Zoroark was nuzzling the Gallade's neck with affection. Courtney's brain suddenly shut down, unable to think of something to say. "Oh... umm..." Crap. She was making things awkward. "So, uh... yeah. We're all back at the Pokemon Center. We're planning a burial for Gyro so..... uh.... yeah, sorry for making things awkward if I was interrupting anything between you two..." She was now just mumbling as her thoughts vanished.

(OoC: And now things are a bit awkward.)

"Little one wait!" The Haunter calls in concern, floating after the small red steel/dark type. It was one thing to know there were others to be fetched and another thing to let a small pawniard wander off by herself. It would be remiss of his duties to allow it.
Moving as a bubbling gas cloud the Haunter sweeps over the ground, making the dirt below him blow slightly.
He comes to a halt when he sees the other two pokemon and stay nearly completely still as the faint breezes tug the curling substance of his body into new shapes and a few wisps of spirit curl away into nothingness.
Oh.

Thankfully the group seemed to accept his presence without hesitation. The large tortoise introduced herself as Chi and then gestured to the sleeping feline on her back, calling him Hinge. Jerome just nodded at the huge Grass-type and then turned his attention downwards to the Pawniard. She had walked right up to him and was simply looking up at him in awe. Jerome stared back, preparing himself for the onslaught of taunts and laughs that were probably going to come.

But when the Pawniard spoke her tone was friendly. "H-Hello Jerome. M-My name is Courtney." She seemed to be trying to be careful with how she acted around him. Jerome frowned; was she scared of him? He watched her as she agreed with Chi that the burial of the Whirlipede should wait until morning. Turning to the ghost, she then invited him to stay with them before turning back to him and cheerfully adding, "You too, Jerome!"

Jerome said nothing as he continued to stare at her, but underneath his hardened expression a look of surprise started to surface. Not only had Courtney not (yet) made a single remark about his odd colour, but she had invited him into the group as well. Jerome found himself hesitant about what to do. He hadn't intended to stick around, but being accepted for once in his life felt good. Wonderful, even. He almost didn't want this feeling of belonging and companionship to fade.

The Ghost-type said that he thought that Jerome had made a kind offer, but did not offer his name. Jerome didn't make the effort to ask for it just yet. The two Pokemon whom he'd seen entered a nearby building earlier had emerged, nuzzling each other affectionately. Jerome's eyes narrowed as he watched them. Why the hell were they bothering falling in love in a world like this? They'll be lucky if they're not dead soon, the shiny Bisharp thought with spite. Nobody had ever bothered to love him, not even his own parents. He was too 'odd' for that.

Courtney ran over to the couple and awkwardly told them their plans to bury the Whirlipede in the morning. Jerome sniffed as he looked over at the body of the Bug-type. Surely the presence of a bloody, rotting corpse will attract unwanted attention? He decided he'd rather wait to see if they'd see sense before voicing his opinion. The Ghost-type followed Courtney and then disappeared for some reason. Maybe they can teleport or something... Jerome stood rather rigid and watched the Zoroark and the white and green Pokemon approach them, waiting to indroduce himself if they asked.

Natsumi was embarrass when Courtney and Namdnas came towards her and Apollo while she was nuzzling him that a blush appeared on her fur before she look away at a field of wild flowers that she didn't notice before. She moved away from Apollo's side to go pick some of the flowers and didn't noticed the Abra that was sleeping in the area. When she got too close he was woken up in surprise and teleported her away before teleporting himself away.

(I'm sorry guys I know this is a short post but it's Natsumi's leaving post. I'm putting her inactive and not sure if I'll take her out after what will happen later but I had fun rping with you all and hope to do so again.)

The scent of blood was on the air.
The low buzzing of the Scizors' wings approached as the sun slowly set, leaving the sky weeping with the color of death.
The harbinger hovered in the air, surveying what appeared to be a Zoroark and a Gallade, holding each other. The Scizor felt his heart retaliate against him as a flood of emotions overcame him.
What?! How could they!? Jealousy boiled in his veins as he watched them with narrowed eyes.

No! This is NOT going to happen! He hissed, diving towards the tall figure retreating after the dark fox. He slammed into the Gallade, his claws digging into the tender flesh. The white skin of the pokemon suddenly was spattered with red, and screams filled the air.

The Scizor ignored the slashing at his torso and arms and tightened his grip on the Gallades shoulder blades, digging into flesh and lodging them deep between his collarbone and ribs. The male howled in pain and rage, but the Scizor was only further angered.

"You can't have it! You can't have it!!! How could she give it to YOU!?" He roared, as he tore his gaze away long enough to search for the Zoroark.

What?....The harbinger paused, his eyes wide with confusion.

"Where is she...? WHERE IS SHE?!" He snarled, his wings flaring up as he pulled the Gallade up and close to his decaying face. The Gallade said nothing, merely spitting up blood. The harbingers' eyes began to glow brightly as a sinister hiss came from him.

"....Fine...." He whispered, launching himself and the bladed creature up with him into the skies, never once looking away from his face. The harbingers' gaze was cold and vengeful, his wings beating fiercely as they rushed straight up into the darkening skies.

"I will find her...and she will give that beauty to me...she will be mine..." He hissed gently, holding out the Gallade in front of him and pulling his claws from him. The green and white creature gasped, his eyes going wide as he was tossed into a free-fall. The harbinger watched callously as his victim hit the ground with a pop, and a sudden red splotch appeared, far, far below.

With a twitch and a snarl, he flew into the oncoming darkness, to search for the Zoroark that had escaped his clutches.

Courtney watched the couple break apart. First, it was Natsumi. She left Apollo's side and went into a flower field. She seems to have disappeared in it. Courtney was worried, but had no time to react to what happened next. A Scizor came down and started attack the Gallade. Courtney was stunned as she watched with wide eyes. The undead kept asking him about Natsumi before flying into the air with a firm grip on Apollo. The young Pawniard eatched in horror as he was thrown into a free-fall and hit the ground as the Scizor left.

It was just like Gyro's death. So sudden and brutal. It wasn't fair. Apollo was killed because he loved Natsumi? It made no sense to her. She watched someone die over something that happens everyday. It brought the Pawniard down to tears, considering how she recovered from Gyro's death not too long ago.

Courtney quickly ran to a back corner. She had seen too much death the past few days. Apollo. Gyro. Natsumi, who came back to life. And the man whom she grew to love like a father; Dennis. She became lost in her own world of sadness, away from eveyone else.

"Little one!" Namdnas cries out in concern as from above the stink of rot barely has time to warn him of the lightning fast bolt of danger.
He shelters the young pawniard's form with his gaseous body but in vain for the undead scizor could not care less about them.
Too late the Haunter draws a bubbling power to fill his throat to try and sedate the rotting bug but it digs its claws into the Gallade's shoulders, screaming out a question which apparently neither the Gallade or the Haunter could answer.
As Namdnas tries to hypnotize the creature into sleep its short wings roar into life and carry it up, far away from the reach of the Haunter's voice.
Namdnas looks away as the Gallade is released but the sickening wet crunch the body made when it hit the ground would haunt him for many nights to come.
He had never seen the Gallade before but this, this wasn't right.
This was not the way the world was meant to be.

Courtney had fled not soon after the Gallade hit the ground and hurriedly the Haunter swept after her, more fragments of his form breaking off and squeezing through the gaps in his Reaper Cloth as he worried.
"Little one..." He said softly as he approached the Pawniard in her corner.
She was crying, tiny silvery tears running down the metal of her face.
Carefully the Haunter drifts closer and wraps his three clawed hands around her shoulder.
The thick mist of his curling tail is light but as soft as silk.
"He is beyond pain now..." Namdnas says quietly, his voice made soothing and comforting by Hypnosis."There are better realms beyond his veil of an existence. No doubt he has gone on to one of them."

It was a mix between a crunch and a splat. The low moan, SNAP! of bones seemed to play in slow motion, while there was a subtle pattering of blood that seemed like a spurt of rain played in fast forward.

Hinge knew that something died before he opened his eyes. There were muffled, warped noises before, but the crystal clear sound roused him form his sleep. He hoped he was dreaming; he prayed he was dreaming, but the blood-smell in the air and the weariness that lay in every hair on his pelt ust had that real feeling. He was awake, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Shame he had to awake to a noise like that.


Chi nearly cried out when she spied Natsumi being whisked away in a blip by a Teleport. She pressed down so hard on her moan as Apollo was slaughtered that she felt like she was choking. In the short time it was done, her throat was so tight that only a strangled rumble/moan escaped her.

Wait for morning? How naive. How stupid. Chi thought, hating herself. As if the dead would let us wait for the sun. Chi was aware of Namdnas comforting Courtney as she strode onto the ground near where apollo lay and let Iron Head reinforce her muscle and bone. Turning her head sideways, she began tearing large ruts in the ground with the horizontal horns studding her head and neck, deeper and deeper into the ground. She paused for a moment, breathing a little heavily, and Hinge slipped between her feet and dug, too, without words between them. He --surprisingly quickly--sifted away the loose soil and leapt onto her back, and Chi thrashed her head side-to-side again, digging deeper and deeper. She cast a look around, checking to see if any members of the team were fit to help.

Courtney felt something on her shoulder. She looked over and saw it was Namdnas' hands. He protected her from the Scizor, too. The Pawniard saw the kindness inside of him, and how easily it was showing. "Little one..." He said softly. His voice, like always, was soothing. "He is beyond pain now... There are better realms beyond his veil of an existence. No doubt he has gone on to one of them." Courtney placed the flat part of her bladed hand on his hand. She leaned her head on his hand as well.

The Haunter reminded her a lot of Dennis. His way of comfort, his relaxing tone of voice, and just how much he cared for the young Pawniard. She sniffled a little bit. "Namdnas..." She began. She stopped for a moment as if she was embarrassed at saying it. "You remind me of someone I lost." Courtney looked over at Chi, who was burying Apollo. "My mentor. He taught me how to become stronger and he made me an apprentice in his profession as a woodcarver. He was killed not too long ago, right here in Canalave."

The thoughts of him brought a few more tears to the Pawniard's eyes. He didn't want to think of him, but Namdnas reminded her of him. She closed her eyes as she leaned her head on the Haunter's hand. She was starting to grow a bit tired from everything that had happened tonight. But she felt safe as long as Namdnas was with her.

The Haunter's three clawed hands soothingly stroke along the pawniard's back as he confides in her in return.
"My trainer was Daniel of Lavender Town, a leaque champion to be and he looked after me since I was just a little Gastly...He got a scratch from a ratatta and the disease started to kill him...I sung him to sleep and carried him back to Lavender Town. I was so sad I thought I would die again but I learnt there is more to life that being sad. The world is still beautiful if we only look out and see."
Carefully Namdnas wipes away Courtney's tears.
"We have to be strong."
The Haunter reaches out a hand to her and smiles.
"Do you feel well enough to aid in the burial?" He asks softly.

Chi thrashed her head back and forth, rotating her body and widening the hole. Eventually she got deep enough that she had both forelegs in the hole, and the hole was nearly as wide as her shell. The bodies of both Gyro and Apollo would fit in a hole this wide, but it needed to be deeper to keep out scavengers, and the dead. Only narrower pokemon, like the pawniard and bisharp, could be able to complete the project -- Chi would get stuck, and she was much to heavy to be pulled out. Chi backed out of the hole slowly, like some sort of primeval backhoe, and gave her head one more shake. Several clods of earth dislodged from her horns and hit the ground, but she knew she was still very muddy.

She didn't care much at all.

Hinge dodged a clump of dirt from Chi's horns but stuck close to the filthy torterra. He knew that the dismal atmosphere would bring her many illogical, deep terrors. Though Chi was resilient, Hinge knew, there was only so much she could take, and she had to take it on her own two feet. His eyes, flashing green with night sight, glanced at the haunters ghostly hands comforting Courtney. Chi was not young and protected like the pawniard, who would be taken care of at high priority because she was young and innocent. Offhandedly, Hinge knew this was right. Kits were to be put first. It was natural. But he was tired despite his recent healing and being sympathetic to Courtney was not in his nature. He stalked silently at Chi's flank, watching everywhere around them for sign of an undead attack.

Courtney could feel Namdnas' hand run down her back as a way of comfort. "My trainer was Daniel of Lavender Town, a leaque champion to be and he looked after me since I was just a little Gastly...He got a scratch from a ratatta and the disease started to kill him...I sung him to sleep and carried him back to Lavender Town. I was so sad I thought I would die again but I learnt there is more to life that being sad. The world is still beautiful if we only look out and see." He told her. Carefully, the Haunter wiped the tears away from Courtney's eyes. "We have to be strong." He said to her.

The Pawniard looked at him smiling extending a hand out to her. "Do you feel well enough to aid in the burial?" He asks softly. Courtney grabbed the hand and pulled herself up. She smiled softly at him. "Yes I do. Thank you Namdnas." She said to him. Courtney went over to where Chi was and started digging in the hole a bit more. "Hey, need help?" she asked the Torterra.

The Haunter smiles as the pawniard stands up and dries her tears. It is good for the children to be strong, the next generation was all that was left behind when you died.
Ethereally he drifts over to the Torterra and Persian.
"May I offer you some assistance?" He asks in a soft voice, taking care to confirm to the solemnity of the occasion. "I am afraid I am not very strong..." He flexes his gaseous, slightly transparent arms. "But I could help carve a grave marker if you tell me of the poor souls who lie here..."
The Haunter's red eyes are solemn as he hovers still in the air.
So many living needing comfort...

((I'm very sorry but please skip me. Things have been kinda mad and I don't have time to make a decent post right now. -_- Just say that Jerome assisted in digging the grave without a word. XD I'll make up for this in my next post, guys, sorry for the hold up.))

Chi nodded to Courtney and Namdnas as they offered their assistance; Jerome has already wordlessly made his way into the hole and was laying waste with his blade appendages.

Chi closed her eyes. She didn't want to see Gyro's terrible pulverized corpse, which lay in the pokemon center, though some gore managed to make it out the open door. Apollo's broken body, laying at twisted, unnatural angles, was not nearly any more pleasant. After walking into some underbrush, she sighed and lowered herself to the ground, slowly and deliberately so as not to crush Hinge. She listened to movement around her, and remained as unmoving as the landscape.


Hinge watched with approval as Chi, faced with a reality of horrors, instinctively camouflaged herself when she did not want to think anymore. She blended in spectacularly with the undergrowth.

Hinge, on the lookout for undead, made his way back to where the graves were being dug.

He sat near the grave, out of range of the clods of dirt that occasionally flew out. He kneaded the dirt with his filthy paws (a certain filthiness that he thoroughly disliked, but refused to clean with his tongue for fear of infection).

"Unless you can blend in like Chi, we'll need a better place to hide tonight." He got up and stretched. "It's not like our pals here don't need the burial . . . but they are gonna attract some nasties, so we need to leave soon."

Courtney started digging the hole. She wanted it to be a big enough hole for both Gyro and Apollo. Two souls who didn't deserve the sudden ends to their lives. Namdnas offered to help carve a marker for the grave. The Pawniard wanted to help him out with that, but saw that Jerome was helping with the digging as well. As much as she wanted to carve, she also wanted to impress her evolved form.

As she was digging, she looked at the blue Bisharp and said, "Uh, hey Jerome. Can I ask you something?" She said, a little nervous at the response she may get from the question. "Tomorrow morning, can you teach me how to become stronger like yourself? It's just that I want to become a Bisharp too and I need to become stronger in order to evolve. So, can you help me?" Courtney let out a small smile, hoping that he would say yes.

Hovering away from the others for moment the Haunter selects an appropriate tree, an elm growing strong and tall in some human garden.
Whispering a silent prayer of apology to the mighty elm he uses the three sharp claws of each hand to tear two straight branches from the trunk and carry them to the ground.
The wind causes the swirling gases of his form to flicker as he slowly descend from the tree trunk with both branches held closely in his hands.
The rough cloth he wore as a hood slips a fraction as he descends and as he tugs it back over the wound from his spreading infection he gloomily notes that his lower horn has all but completely become nothing. Making sure the Reaper Cloth conceals the unnatural sight of his substance streaming away into the void Namdnas seemingly lands, letting his comet like tail coil under him as he looks over the branches.
They are young and strong with no canker gnawing away at their heart like there was at his. For grave markers they would last some time.
Carefully with the sharp edge of his talons he peels away long shavings of their bark to reveal the still green heart wood, ignoring the way the sticky sap gums up the cutting point of each claw until the branches are entirely bare.
He could not make a gravestone for them so instead he carves the long wooden stake of his native home, using the tip of his claw to plane smooth the branch on two sides and carving one end into a simple flat to be stuck firmly into the ground. The other end he takes more care with, carving it into intricate swirls and spirals that twine vine-like down the sides of the flat of wood. He carves them into spinning circles and waves of speed for the Whirlipede and surrounded by these elegantly carved emblems he inscribes an image of how the Bug Type must have looked in life to preserve his image for all eternity.
For the Gallade he carves the straight flat lines of blades for a noble life but counterpointed by the softer shapes that represented kindness and responsibility, topped by the straight clean arrow shape that matched the red horn.
Blowing the last few scraps of wood from the markers with a gust of his poisonous breath he carefully looks over both signposts of eternity.
The two look almost like hands of some enormous intricate clock. From the wood the carved eyes seem eerily blank.
Finally and aware of the sacrifice he is making Namdnas calls the fire into his hands. Swallowing his cries of pain as his wound flares and nothingness eats faster into his body he scorches the resin remaining on the markers to form a rough dark glaze of sorts that will waterproof the markers against rain.
His gaseous form falling to the ground as his energy leaves him the infected Haunter gasps silently for breath for several moments before he has the strength to pick up the finished markers and carry them back over to the grave.
"It is done." He says solemnly.

"It is done." Those words of finality were the ones that Jerome had been wanting to hear. He didn't even know the Pokemon who had perished, but after witnessing the death of one of them and seeing the pain of the others, he felt sorry for them. His plan to leave after he was finished with them was starting to look more and more distant. I wonder if they actually want me here...?

"Unless you can blend in like Chi, we'll need a better place to hide tonight," said the feline. Jerome had not seen him wake up. He got to his feet and stretched. "It's not like our pals here don't need the burial ... but they are gonna attract some nasties, so we need to leave soon." "You're right." With a firm voice, the shiny Bisharp spoke for the first time since he arrived. "I've noticed that the ... predators tend to scavenge whatever meat they can find." He looked over at the graves. "It's a sad thought, but it's likely that they will be found. We should leave as soon as possible."

Just then, Courtney appeared at his side. "Uh, hey Jerome. Can I ask you something?" Here we go... Jerome had been expecting this at some point. It always happened, and it was never pleasant. But the words that came from the young Pawniard's lips surprised him greatly. "Tomorrow morning, can you teach me how to become stronger like yourself? It's just that I want to become a Bisharp too and I need to become stronger in order to evolve. So, can you help me?" For a while, Jerome said nothing and simply stared at her. This was a request that was entirely new to him, and he wasn't sure what to say. After a few moments of self-composure, he said, "I'm afraid that I can't teach you much." He paused. "All I know is what I have taught myself. But..." His heart told him to spring at the opportunity to make a friend, to become accepted, so he ignored the potential dangers that his mind was pointing out to him. "...If you wish, I will show you what I know."

He looked around in search of a safe place for them to spend the night. He did not know this city at all, and hoped that the others knew it well enough to know where was safe and where the dangerous spots were. For the first time in his life, he was placing his safety in the hands of others.

The tip of Hinge's tail twitched as he lounged without a care . . . and inwardly growled with impatience. Did the damn haunter need to spend so much time on the stupid sticks? But, as the two sharp pokemon weren't done with the hole, he waited silently and let his face remain impenetrable, in that catlike I'm-watching-intently-but-why-give-a-shit manner.

The undead smell, though omnipresent, was getting stronger; Hinge opened his mouth to scent the air. There was definitely a growing number of undead upwind . . . or possibly just something big, with a lot of exposed wounds and a whole lot of stink. The rustlings around them hadn't seemed to change, so perhaps it wasn't very close -- yet -- or perhaps it was only moving slowly. Stealthily.

All that's left now is to put the dead fuckers in the hole, Hinge thought. They can get that done before it arrives . . . probably.


Chi kept her eyes shut and her muscles very still. She couldn't sense any predators near her, and the murmurings of the group of living ran on uninterrupted at her back. Her mind was numb, as if in a trance, or as one who is nearly asleep. She let the night wash over her, soaking up the moment of quiet like a tree slowly sipping water from deep within the ground.

"I'm afraid that I can't teach you much. All I know is what I have taught myself. But... if you wish, I will show you what I know." Courtney nodded her head. "Yes, thank you, Jerome! Also..." Courtney added, "The color looks very nice on you." She wanted him to know that she wasn't going to treat her evolved form differently just because he is a different color.

Courtney kept digging the grave for the bodies. She felt like the hole was big enough to fit a Whirlipede and a Gallade, so she climbed out of the hole and went over to Namdnas. The Pawniard was impressed with the carvings. "The carvings look amazing Dennis..." Courtney soon realized her mistake and quickly corrected herself. "I mean Namdnas! Namdnas. Sorry..." She looked down at the ground, a little embarrassed at her mistake. But who could blame her? It felt like Namdnas was Dennis' spirit, still keeping Courtney safe from harm.

A genuine smile passing across his incorporeal face at the Pawniard's little slip up as he carefully but firmly shoves the unadorned ends of the wooden stakes into the heads of both graves.
What little light the moon provides shimmers faintly off the hardened resin varnish, for a moment causing both figures to seem to flitter with motion.
The Haunter is proud of his handy work. A return to the proper place of rest, the tower in the Lavender Town of Kanto was for them, out of the question but their names and their forms had been recorded and that meant their spirits could finally be at peace.
The part of them that held their immortal soul was no longer linked to the flesh of their bodies just as his no longer was, it was the last gift any living could give to the dead.
"It is nearly time to move on then Little One." he says almost teasingly as he smiles a happy smile at the young Pawniard.
She reminds him so much of his own children, the playful young gastlys he had raised and cared for in the days before the infection.
Like them he could sense within her a light and cheerful spirit suppressed by this dark era. It was his duty to guard such a thing just as it had been his duty to protect the others of his team back when he had still had a trainer.

Feeling none of the others would have the stomach for such work he carefully lifts up the body of the Whirlipede his his disjointed hands and carefully lays it down on the soft dirt. If it weren't for the wounds it would almost appear to be only sleeping.
Carefully and comfortingly stroking one of his claws along the ridged shell he carefully closes both its yellow eyes and hums a few bars of the song he had always sung at burials, the song of Lavender.
The simple tune in the dark seems enhanced by the rich persuasiveness of his voice and seems to be telling the Bug Type that is now time to go.
With equal care he also manages to pick up the body of the Gallade, ignoring how filthy his claws have become.
He lays the psychic type too down on the bed of soil and carefully crosses the sword like arms over his chest.
Closing his own eyes in respect he too carefully closes the Gallade's eyelids and hums a lullaby for him in the soothing tones of Hypnosis.
"Anima eius et animæ omnium fidelium defunctorum per Dei misericordiam requiescant in pace...May his soul and the souls of all the departed faithful by Arceus's mercy rest in peace." The Ghost intones solemnly before rising from the grave and nodding assent for the bodies to be covered over.