The CANALAVE Team

With care the deep purple ghost swipes at the edges of the wound with the disinfectant soaked cloth, cleaning traces of dirt and dead leaf from the gash with soft movements of his short pawed hand. Courtney is acting very brave, with only an involuntary gasp when the disinfectant touches a particularly tender spot.
The more he tries to clean the wound the faster the blood flows and his blood red eye widens as Namdnas sees how serious the gash really is. Though it does not seem so deep from the outside, part of the gash has cut deep into the little Dark Type's insides and as he wipes away the blood Namdnas can see the white gleam of exposed bone.
Courtney's spine.
Mentally the Gengar skips ahead. He could continue cleaning the wound, get it bound tightly in clean bandages and possibly even sewn shut on one of the remaining machines. For a time things would seem o.k. Courtney would appear to recover with nothing more than an ugly scar to mark her ordeal but the flesh would never entirely heal. The wound would be infected by ordinary bacteria and become septic and swollen with pus. They simply did not have the technology to cure her now the humans were gone.
In a deep soothing tone Namdnas starts to sing, giving no sign of his intentions. The comforting warmth of his singing voice is coated in the manipulative commands of Hypnosis to make his patient feel drowsy.
"Hush now my little one,
the sun has set, the night has come,
hush now, now need to cry,
For I'll sing you a lullaby."
He starts to sing the lullaby he had used to put the little Dark Type to sleep back in the ruins of Canalave, the lullaby he had put his children to sleep with for many, many years.
"The stars they shine, the day is done.
O'er the hills the Sandman comes,
The flowers close, the Swanna sigh,
And I'll sing you a lullaby."
Courtney's eyelids are already starting to flutter as her body starts to relax. Namdnas puts down the bloodied length of cloth to cradle her head, laying the Pawniard down on the metal table of the healing machine. Drowsily she reaches up her bladed arms as if asking for a hug, a gesture Namdnas manages to provide one armed while he continues to sing his patient into a deep slumber.
"The day is done, the night has come,
Count shooting stars one by one,
To yesterday we say goodbye,
And I will sing a lullaby..."
No matter what they do she will die. The fallen length of Reaper Cloth he scoops up from the floor. Once it had been so precious to him as a last gift from his human trainer but now the peacefully sleeping Pawniard needed it more than him.
Hush now, no need for tears,
Namdnas will quiet all your fears,
For now its time to say goodbye,
I'll sing you one final lullaby..." The Gengar sings the last verse softly as he swaddles Courtney like a babe in the soft black cloth, hiding the deep wound from sight as she slumbers on.
Opening his sharp toothed mouth the half Gengar inhales deeply.
From Courtney's open mouth pours thick curls of pink mist as the Dark Type peacefully slumbers, something any native Unovan would recognize as the essence of Courtney's dreams. A few images can be made out in the coils of pink smoke; a laughing pawniard riding on the shoulders of a human and pointing ahead with one bladed forearm, a strong female Bisharp on a mountain top standing beside a scarred Bisharp with skin of blue instead of red, an image from a Pawniard's point of view of a tattered finned Vapoureon emerging from the water.
Namdnas inhales and the curls of dreaming disappear into his mouth. As the gengar continues to use Dream Eater Courtney's breathing gets fainter and fainter until finally it stops with a peaceful smile still on the Dark Type's face.
"Resquiat in Pace." The Gengar says softly, drawing the cloth over Courtney's face in a funeral shroud.

((OOC: Fill in Harbinger attack completed and wow, I didn't mean for this to be so long. It'll all the singing sorry.))

Jerome was starting to get a little impatient; Namdnas was sure taking his time in dressing the wound. He picked the bottle of disinfection up off the floor, trying to decide whether to just go on ahead and try it out for himself. But then something odd happened. Something ... disturbing. Namdnas started singing to her, the same lullaby that he had sang to her the night before. "...What are you doing?" Jerome got shakily to his feet and watched the scene unfold, slightly dumbstruck. Why was he singing to her, and why had he stopped trying to heal her?

The Gengar wrapped her up in the ominous black cloth that he always held and opened his mouth, inhaling deeply. What emerged from Courney's mouth both astonished and terrified him. Recognising the pink vapour as Dream Mist, several images floated through it as exactly what was happening finally hit Jerome, and he started to pant. "Wh-What? Namdnas, stop it!" He marched forward, ready to snatch the young Pawniard from the ghost's grasp, but one of the images ground him to a halt. Two Bisharp, a red one and a blue one, stood on a mountain top side by side, their bladed arms raised as they looked just about ready to take on the entire world. "That's..." Tears poured from Jerome's eyes and a splutter escaped his tight throat as Namdnas finished absorbing Courtney's dreams and covered her face with the cloth.

Jerome stood for several moments in complete silence, barely aware of the small puddle of water his tears had left on the floor. "Courtney..." Dropping the bottle of disinfectant on the floor and smashing it, Jerome rushed over to where Courtney lay and cradled her head in his arms, sobbing quietly into the cloth. He hadn't done enough to save her; all of his efforts had been in vain. "It's my fault," he whispered, his voice muffled by the cloth. "I-I didn't ... I couldn't--"

TD's heart seemed to quiver as she watched Namdnas clean Courtney's wound. A gentle chill trailed down her spine in a oddly enjoyable rivet to see him work. With each stroke of of his hand any clots and debris was swept away and a new gush of bright blood replaced it. It dripped down to reveal the insides of the Pawninard to the point the Vaporeon didn't know a gash could be so deep. Courtney winced at the bitter fluid touching her wound, body rigid with dull lashes of pain.

Blue paws inched a tad closer to inspect, curious and wanting to help. A look in the Gengars eye made her feel as though something was very wrong. He spoke something she couldn't catch, broken words and odd spacing that only confused the water type until she didn't bother trying to decipher. Whatever it was, it seemed to be causing Courtney to become so drowsy she nearly fell over.

Namdnas was still speaking, so she couldn't voice her concerns about the shaky Steel type. It didn't seem to matter as he gently support and laid her down on the Healing Machine, a peaceful tiredness coming over her face. It made sense that she would need rest now, after the travels, injury, and exertion she had been through. The look in her eyes made TD feel her own exhaustion return. Maybe it was time to rest. But the serene feeling was not to last.

Namdnas wrapped his black cloth around the Pawniard, and something horrifying happened. A pink foggy vapor that, being born and raised in Unova the Vaporeon recognized as Dream Mist, released from her mouth. What that meant.. A gasp overtook TD's face. Jerome barked at the Gengar as panicked as the Vaporeon. "Nam das, what..!" He knew what was happening, what could she say? The words seem to stick to her tongue as she peered at Courtney's dreams.. "Courtey.." Tears blurred her vision as the pictures all but vanished within the ghost Pokemon, his Reaper Cloth was then draped over her face in a.. burial shroud. She was.. she was, gone.

Jerome seemed to just break. Tears falling from his usually firm face as he cradled his prior evolution with saddened agony. Everything they had done was for nothing. Courtney had.. she had died! They had lost the life of their friend even with all the effort.. The Vaporeons entire body trembled with emotion. Courtney was dead! Gone, dead, died. "Courtney.." She whimpered clearly, "Court.. n-noo." What could she say?

Her legs felt weak beneath her. They shook until she was hunched over for support, unable to stand otherwise. Why? Why did she have to die? Why her, what had she done.. Was TD to, blame Namdnas? No.. something told her, he wasn't at fault. Let it be the kind motions he had showed in the Pawniard end or the acceptance he always showed TD, Namdnas was innocent here.

The fins on her head quivered at the feeling of Jerome's tiny, heavy movements through the floor. The air of the room was heavy and thickly laden with sorrow which chocked the Vaporeon. Her heart lurched in her chest making it hard to breathe How many more must die? Her tears fell freely from her eyes.

With a soft sigh the Gengar looks down at the little cloth wrapped bundle. The strength of the young Pawniard's dreams fused with his own gaseous substance, boosting his own strength and repairing a few wisps of his evaporating flesh but it is shallow comfort to know his life has been extended by Courtney's.
He rests his one paw on Jerome's shoulder, seeing the genuine tears that gleam in the tall steel type's eyes. Undoubtedly he had genuine care for the little Pawniard and that made the event even more tragic.
"Jerome..." He says softly, resting his one paw on the tall Dark Type's shoulders. "That wound...it was going septic. Infected, but not in the sense you recognize. The only way to prevent the wound from getting worse would have been to burn the wound closed but...It was just too deep. It never would have healed. She just would have gotten weaker and weaker as her insides rotted. Now she doesn't have to experience this pain."
The ghost turns to look at the tattered finned water type, a small rueful smile on his face as he offers a hug to the Water Type.

"The two places where we are safe from all harm is in the arms of sleep and the arms of death." He softly tells the Vapoureon. "
she died well, that is the most you can hope for. It is a peaceful end to fall asleep and never wake up." The Gengar knows this to be true but cannot say how. All he knows is that the act of euthanasia has left a sick feeling in his stomach.
With care he feels he should leave Jerome to his grief, for all the tender feelings he felt towards Courtney it was obvious the scarred and stiff Bisharp had cared for her the most. Unlike him, one who lived and breathed death and had long since become accustomed to the cycle of life's start and end, Jerome had the air of one who had experienced precious little loss such as this.
"TD..." He says softly, making sure the Water Type can read his words. "She will need a proper funeral. Will you help me with it?"

((Skip, Jerome's still holding Courtney and crying. T_T))

She felt as though the entire room had collapsed on her, the weight pressing down on her shoulders supported by strength she did not have. They had lost the fight. They had lost her. The silence of her world choked out the room. Suffocating the Pokemon inside until it was simply deafening. He, Namdnas was explaining his actions with the calm, worn voice that she imagined for him. That the.. euthanasia, of the Pawniard was the only choice so she wouldn't of had to suffer. That it was the kindest act they could do for her.

For Courtney.

Each ring of her name sent a new wave of tears to fall from her eyes and to the floor below. Let it be the tears themselves or the sheer bulk of the painful grief that hit her heart, TD's vision blurred to unrecognizable shapes. Without sight, without sound, she felt more vulnerable then ever. Her legs shifted closer to her thin frame, able to feel just how fragile her body could be.

The purple streaks that represented Namdnas behind the blurry sheet grew as he came closer. Gently, he hugged her with his one arm as her own forelimbs closed around him in a return gesture. Her finned-head buried itself in his shoulder, finding comfort in his spectral form. Somewhere deep inside the Gengar the very spirit of her friend lay safely at rest.. safe somewhere were there would be no pain.

Her tears fell far enough from her face she she could once again see as Namdnas finished his speech. "The two places where we are safe from all harm is in the arms of sleep and the arms of death." Death, was never something she connected as a place of 'saftey'. But now that the situation had changed.. maybe things were a bit different. "She died well, that is the most you can hope for. It is a peaceful end to fall asleep and never wake up. Tiny Dragon peeled herself away from her friend as one paw came to her eyes to clear them of the remaining tears. She couldn't bring herself to say anything, as it ached in her chest and the words falling flat on her tongue.

There was still a vile feeling in her stomach, bile burning lightly at the back of her throat. "TD.. The look of his face, the Vaporeon knew he was going to ask her something that would crush what was left of spirit. "She will need a proper funeral. Will you help me with it?" There it was. It was all too much for her delicate heart. The wounds, the stress, the death, seeing it happen.. and knowing that none too far away, Jerome was in pieces huddled over the lost Pawniards body.

A deep breath filled her lungs. They, they had to be strong. They had to keep going. For Courtney. Tiny Dragon forced her way into tiny paws only increasing the crushing pain in her heart. For you, Courtney.. She turned her glossy aqua eyes to Namdnas and spoke as clearly as she could with her shaky, croaky voice. "Yes, Namd'enas, I-I will." This was the final gift she could give to Courtney. TD swore she would carry it out.

For a moment Namdnas closes his one red eye sorrowfully. He can still feel Courtney's memories beating inside him like a second heart as the curling smoke of her dreams becomes one with the smoke of his form.
Silently he apologizes to the little Pawniard for taking her life away, even if he was sure it was the right thing to do. She reminded him so much of his children...Sweet Yballul and Maerd, he might never see them again and the one child he had to have care of he had failed in his duty.
He wants to hug her, hold her tight and somehow reassure Courtney that things can be alright but that is impossible now. The Gengar leaves Jerome to weep as he holds TD, feeling the warmth of tears drip onto his shoulder.
He can't even face Jerome right now, already he's dreading the moment when he'll have to take Courtney from his arms and put her to rest.
"Let's go TD..." He says softly. "We're going to a long bit of wood and something that burns. She's going to get a funeral pyre like the mightiest of heroes."
Namdnas has seen many funerals, growing up in the Pokemn Tower leaving him knowledgeable about the ways humans sent spirits to the next life and a large Funeral Pyre was how the greatest fighters made their way to the world of the dead. Courtney deserved no less.

((OOC: Going to go gather supplies for a funeral pyre now, don't really know what else to say))

((Sorry guys, I forgot it was my turn. Skip me, Jerome just picked Courtney up off the table and offered to help Namdnas prepare the funeral.))

TD walked in step with heavy paws and a heavier heart after Namdnas to collect material for the Pyre. It felt so surreal. Death, losing a friend, a funeral, a funeral.. for, her friend. Her chest ached with hollowness. Oh Courtney.. TD peered up to the trees that now surrounded her. Bright light filtered through their leaves, leaving dapples along her back and throughout the gaseous form of the ghost beside her. Everything was swathed in a soft yellow, the ground warm and inviting on her pads. It was, beautiful.. if only Courtney could see it as well.

Pain stabbed her hard again at the thought, making the Vaporeon softly recoil. She had a duty to carry out and she kept getting distracted by her own feelings. Though she didn't have much strength effort would hopefully keep her focused. Wiping a paw across her eyes TD stepped over to a fallen branch of admirable size. It was a bit too large but the wood was dry and there wasn't any greenery on it, perfect for burning. With a forced firm shoulder, she shoved with all the might her soft body could muster to the spot Namdnas had chosen.

It caused a great deal of pain to radiate through her body, starting at the shoulder, but she kept pushing until it was in place. It slid slowly across the ground as TD though, if nothing else, it would make a decent part to the base of the pyre. When it was finally set and she took a moment to catch her breath the Vaporeon continued to gather timber, though much smaller then her first branch. With each addition, TD insured her friend would go out with a true blaze of glory..

Namdnas hovers around the city, aimlessly thinking that the abandoned buildings look like gravestones for an entire civilization. Trees have broken the picket fences of the gardens they were once contained in to spread out into the streets in their own growing forests of tangled vines and previously trimmed hedges.
A long straight branch is what is needed for a Grave Marker and bracing his semi-corporeal form the poison ghost lets a gentle breeze lift him up into the greenery. In amongst the tangled branches he finds what he desires and braces his short leg against the tree trunk as he tightly grips the desired branch with his one hand and tugs.
The branch cracks and tears loose with a strip of bark still attached to the end. Though his stubby claws are less well suited to it than the last time he had to perform this morbid task Namdnas pulls loose the rough bark in great curls to add to the growing pyre, revealing the bone pale wood underneath.
One end he files to sharp point to shove into the ground, the other end he splits to a flat surface for carving. Carefully he engraves the wood with a small image of a little Pawniard and turns to TD.
"That'll do TD. Why don't you add something to the marker?" He asks softly as he adds the excess bits of branch to the growing pile for the funeral pyre.
This bit of wood would serve as a mark for all eternity for Courtney, bearing on its all the memories they had shared. It was not up to just him to carve...
Leaving the wooden marker beside TD he floats back to the overflowing garden and gathers up a handful of the brightest wildflowers still blooming along with dead leaves and twigs for kindling. He makes several trips back and forth carrying materials to build up the fire as he idly starts weaving the green stems together to form a Funreal Wreath.

((OOC: Feel free to get in on the crving/wreath making action.))

Her paws pressed hard against the warm ground and her jaw strained to drag the branch. Her mouth ached from clenching all the branches but this should be the last one as their pile of branches, leaves, and other such things was quite admirable now. Namdnas returned with a very large smoothed limb, altered with considerable hand/s to be a beautiful.. graver marker. Tears threatened to fall from her TD's aqua eyes again, making her do several hard blinks to hold them back. Not yet..

The Vaporeon dragged her last branch on top of the others, pausing to watch the ghost carve yet more beauty into the wood. Chills danced along her spine, memorized with each stroke of his hand. He finished and looked to her taking note of the branches in the pile. "That'll do TD. Why don't you add something to the marker?" Shyness flushed her face. He floated off to leave the water type staring longingly at the wood. The little Pawniard he had made looked so cute and happy, exactly like Courtney. Tiny Dragon blinked again. What could she add? An idea came gently, aided by Namdnas. Flowers/

She lifted her delicate paw and with tiny claws began to etch and crave the wood around the Pawniard. She left plenty of space between her marks and the image, encase Jerome also wished to add to it. Tiny intricate steaks made up vines and little flowers that bordered the picture, giving it a light feeling of youth. Namdnas would come and go, adding more flowers for her to reference for her frame. Slowly it built up to make a flower wreath on the wood that matched the one the ghost was. She left the top open, curving the sides in with large bushels of tiny flowers for a littlw flare. It reminded of what she had seen on some human graves, pretty in her eyes. TD took a step back, surprised at her own handy work.

She looked to the flowers Namdnas has gathered that made a beautiful rainbow of colors. They reminded TD of something she had seen while gathering branches. Padding off into the trees again, she looked around for it. Her eyes glanced about the ground for the plant. It wasn't too far away, and rounding a shrub she saw it; a large healthy flower, red with silver tipped petals and black stamen. It was the same coloration.. as a Pawniard. Nipping the stem as low as she could TD brought it back to the pyre. Casting her eyes softly at Namdnas she murmured, "Et's like, Court'nay."

The fresh scent of new cut wild flowers fills the Gengar's nose as he inhales deeply with a small sad smile and takes the bright blooms from Td's paws.
His deft fingers work at twisting together the long green stems of the wild flowers he idly twists a few bright stems around in his one hand, resting the growing lei on the ground as he plats together a few favorite blooms of his into a long string of flowers.
Running out of blooms the Poison/Ghost skillfully knots together together both trailing ends of the flower chain into a crown shaped to fit the head of a young Pawniard.
The blooms are truly beautiful, a glossy deep red with bright silver shining on their edges with large black stamens dotted with dark pollen grains. No doubt they would have been some humans pride and joy once and they will be a memorial for their pride and joy.
Carefully the Gengar pulls the last knot of vegetation tight, turning the stem into a glorious flowered crown and handing it back to the scarred Vapoureon with a soft touch on her shoulder.
The other wild flowers he has gathered have been woven into the pyre to give the dry kindling a more dignified look.

The larger dried branches have been woven up into a shape almost like a dais of wicker work, a scree of smaller wood clippings beneath to make sure the pyre will be blaze strongly when ignited.
Carefully Namdnas picks up the burial marker and looks down at it with his one red eye.
The Water Type's sharp claws have carved a beautiful pattern around the edges of the marker, a cheerful design of twisting flowers and vines. The flowers mimic those of the wreaths he has already made.
"It's beautiful TD." He tells the scarred Vapoureon.

Everything was coming together. The pyre was had become large and proud, with the flowers inner-weaved in its twists and pours dotting its brown/cream complexion. The little splashes of color brought it to life, making it more then a pile of dried sticks and branches. Everything had been shaped and weaved to make it utterly magnificent for what it was, and what it would become. Namdnas was truly a master of crafts. The flowers he had weaved filled the air with the scents of nectar and pollen, making it almost feel like a happy occasion to be doing this. The bitter fact that it wasnt bit the Vaporeon like a sharp sting. Too soon now, it would be time for the final goodbye.

The ghost Pokemon handed her the flowery crown her had created, the spot that it belonged nagged at her heart. He saw patterns she had craved into the wood, "It's beautiful TD." He praised her, causing the heat of blush to come to TD's face. Lightly she brushed one paw past her tattered fin and across her face in embarrassment, careful not to bump the flowers. The moment only lasted that, a moment, before she knew it was time. There wasn't more that she could do now, so the actual funeral would have to begin.

Gingerly she got to her paws knowing that too soon she would have to pad over to Jerome. When they took the Pawniard from him.. TD prayed he would not break. There was no chance she would be able to hold herself together if he did. A small shiver trailed down her body and her fins drooped at the thought.

[quote="Kaze"]
"For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love that Arceus has for his creations."
Namdnas intones as he closes his one eye. Growing up in the pokemon tower he has seen many a funeral before he was captured and most of the words are still surprisingly fresh in his memory.
"They shall not grow old as we that are left grow old, age shall not weary them, or the years condemn...Instead to dwell forever in peace at your side."
Namdnas prays for Courtney's spirit as he keeps his one red eye closed and hovers humbly closer to the ground.
"To the earth we commend your empty body, it has severed you well in times before and to our hearts we commend your spirit to live forevermore..."
Namdnas opens his eye to look at the waiting pyre. It is a more dignified affair then he had managed to construct back in Canalave City.
She deserved it.
A single tear breaks free of his control and oozes down his cheek.
Courtney... He thinks.
Carefully Namdnas turns towards Jerome.
"Please bring the body..."

((Yup, lets pause it here))

"Please bring the body..." Jerome had watched in total silence, barely blinking or moving an inch as the funeral pyre was prepared, all the while cradling Courtney's body close to him. Namdnas's words struck a cord deep within, and he took a step back. The idea of the Pawniard's little body burning into a pile of ash was horrifying.

"N-No. No, I can't," Jerome spluttered as he stumbled backwards, almost knocking over a dead decorative tree. "She hates fire! We both do! Can't .. can't we just bury her? She won't like this, it'll hurt her! Namdnas!" Jerome's chest heaved with heavy sobs as his eyes, usually cold and distant, filled with tears and a silent look of desperation. "We don't like fire..."

"Buried bodies get dug exhumed." Namdnas says softly, looking sadly downwards with his one blood red eye. He knows this is true and perhaps it would be better for a steel type to rest in the earth but as bad as Jerome's words are making him feel he knows that a pyre is the best way to send off a felled companion.
The burning flames helped release the spirit from the body and allowed it safe passage to the Other Realms, buried bodies took longer for the spirit to leech back into the soul of the earth.
Besides even if they dug a grave the sanctity of such an act was no longer respected by the undead.
Namdnas raises his arm in asking for the body, offering the delicately carved wooden grave marker in return.
He dismisses the faintest twitch of the little Pawniard's blade as a grief induced hallucination.
This was hurting them all, surely it would be best to get this over with quickly.
"The Pyre is for the death of a true hero. The ascending spirit rides the smoke upwards to the highest heaven." He says softly, remembering the ancient burial traditions.

"Buried bodies get dug exhumed," Namdnas explained softly as Jerome continued to hold onto Courtney with his life. He took another step back as the ghost held out his hand for the body. "The Pyre is for the death of a true hero. The ascending spirit rides the smoke upwards to the highest heaven." A harsh scoff snapped from Jerome's throat. "You think I believe in that shit?"

But the more he felt Courtney's limp, cold body against his own, the more he wanted to get it away from him. He was holding a dead Pokemon - her heart was not beating; her lungs were not working; her blood ran cold and her eyes would never see again. The fact that this lifeless Pokemon was once his friend repulsed him even further.

After several moments of battling with himself, Jerome slowly stepped forward and held Courtney's body out for Namdnas to receive. "Just get it over with," he added quietly as he turned away.

Jerome's protectiveness over Courtney, the pain in his eyes, TD felt herself shy away low to the ground from the Bisharp. You really loved her.. Her small frame felt as though it was collapsing in on itself, the suffering of her fellow Pokemon welling in her chest. Did this have to happen? Namdnas tried to coax him to relinquish the Pawniard, but the Bisharp only became more defensive. "Jay'rome.." She whimpered softly, not having anything to add to the argument. Finally, the Shiny Pokemon gave up the.. body, unable to hold on. He turned away, the feelings overwhelming him.

As Namdnas took the Courtney, TinyDragon gently placed the flower crown upon her head. With the sweet smelling, bright flowers she almost looked as though only in a peaceful slumber. Another tear dripped down her cheek. If only that was true.. She took her place far away enough from the pyre that the flames would not scorch her. Something occurred to her that she hadn't even thought of before. How are we going to start the fire? She doesn't dare ask, afraid of the reaction Jerome might have. Namdnas would have some trick up his sleeve, he always did.

"Courtney the Pawniard...We commend your soul to any god worthy of it." Namdnas says, raising his eyes to the sky and he lowers his head to Courtney's sleeping face.
The crown of fresh flowers around her brow makes her look regal indeed.
"Goodnight little dagger blade." He says with a soft smile as he touches his forehead to the tip of Courtney's head blade and puts her down in the bed of fragrant flowers and dried branches.
She nestles on the depression in the center of the pyre like a wickerwork throne as Namdnas bows in front of her and ignites his fist with the flickering flames of his Fire Punch.
"Ashes to ashes...dust to dust." He intones softly and slams his tiny flaming fist into the center of the wood.
The flames catch swiftly, spreading tongues of fire over the dry wood and causing a blaze to start in the heart of the wooden pile.
A few faint wisps of light grey smoke spiral upwards, twisting in mid-air as the dry bracken catches and, consuming the rough scree of kindling, starts to grow.
Namdnas inclines his head in a gesture of respect as the flames start to lick higher.
"Resquiat in pace."

Namdnas lit the pyre, and it went up beautifully. The wall of flames crawled up the dried frame as though it had done it so many times before. The burst of warm colors let off a beautiful light, visible even in the heat of the day. TD's scales glowed softly orange in its reflection, her eyes radiant as the fire itself. Deep in the middle of the bedding the little Pawniard's body was lost to the heat, no longer visible in the flames and soon to be nonexistent. "Farewell, Courtney." She whispered without faltering on the sounds.

The flames cried as the heat snapped the insides of the pyre, branches breaking with a puff of embers. There was no sound in the Vaporeon's world but she could imagine each snap as the glowing specks burst into the air. Her tattered fins twitched at each snap, the minute vibrations they made unsettling her water reserves inside mixed with the sight of the fire. With a swipe across the grass her tail lightly covered her darkly colored toes. May you find peace with the legends.

The cloud of smoke from the old and greener branches mingled into a fair shade of grey. It rose to the heavens and mixed into the clouds as it dissipated into the sky out of sight. Her heart felt heavy inside her, thankful that they could sent off the Pawniard so beautifully but sad that it had to happen. A tear fell from her cheek, knowing this was much less painful then the life she would of had. A silent sigh came with a heave of her chest. Would things of been better if she never left Castelia?

Higher and higher the blaze grew, the bright golden flames throwing faint shadows on anything below them as the dried wood blazed brightly.
The flowers shriveled up and died in the heart of the flames, a chilling reminder of the true importance of this event.
The Gengar sighed, looking down at his clawed hand.
He feels so impotent for his lack of experience. If he had been a healer like his trainer's Chansey...
A tiny tear forms in the corner of his baleful red eye before tracing its way down his swirling form and splashing to the ground.
Courtney...
Courtney...
A large wisp of his spirit breaks off and curls away to nothing as the disease continues to eat into his form. He would have risked his life for her if it had helped but he knew it couldn't have.
In the end there had been nothing he could do for her, just like there had been nothing he could do for Daniel.
The Gengar turns his head up at the sky, at the bright mocking sun that seemed to shine cheerfully no matter what. In the curling column of smoke he feels he can see the faint shape of the Pawniard.
Despite his words the Ghost Type was not deeply religious. He had no idea if Arceus was some sort of pokemon messiah or just an ordinary legend or even just didn't exist at all but life after death was something he understood even if it was only in a blurred and confused way from his own life.
Perhaps sometime they would meet again.

The Gengar closes his baleful red eye. He has evolved and with the change in his body the weariness in his bones has receded a fraction though he still feels the tiredness lurking, tempting him to just lay down and die.
He doesn't know where his children or grandchildren are or how to help them. He doesn't know how long this is going to last but he feels like a piece of his old heart has just been torn away.
The flames burn higher, their glow barely noticeable in the noon light but sending up a column of smoke that is as good as a signal flare to any watchers.
In the center of the fire he can see Courtney's form, still wreathed with flowers like a queen on her throne before the blaze obscures it from view.
He had made the pyre well, the Pawniard's cremation will be quick.
"We should leave before anything shows up to investigate." He says softly.

Jerome faced the wall as the ritual was completed, determined not to watch or to even think about what was happening just a few metres away from where he was standing. Only moving an inch when Namdnas suggested that they carry on, the Bisharp cleared his throat to attract the ghost's attention as he stared at a blue-roofed building in the distance.

"That one," he muttered, still not turning round as he marched off in the direction of the Poke Mart. He had no idea where he was going and didn't really care; at least it was an excuse for him not to look at the funeral pyre.

"We should leave before anything shows up to investigate." Namdnas' voice has a lingering sadness to it. TD turns slowly away from the flame as through the moment it goes out of her sight it will vanish forever along with Courtney. To step away from the flames.. wasn't that the same as leaving her to the undead? A stab of pain wrecks her heart at the thought. Jerome doesn't seem to know how to react to it all as he stares toward a wall, his body rigid with inner turmoil. Her light colored eyes gaze toward the sun silently willing it to set and allow a new day to begin, but the Vaporeon knows too well the pain associated with that.

Looking to Namdnas she asks, "Cun we jus leave dis fire gowing?" The point was to set up the blaze but to leave a flame unattended didn't seem right. The Bisharp points off to a building in the distance as he agrees that they should move out. She is obviously outvoted and most likely out-reasoned as well. Rising to her paws TD's tattered fins droop to the sides of her head. Maybe moving on from this event was also literal in that they had to keep moving. A final tear falls from her cheek as she follows the others, her paws dragging oh so lightly on the ground.

Inwardly the old Gengar sighs, his one stubby clawed hand rising instinctively to clutch at the fading void bissecting his body. The raged edge of bubbling gases dissolves under his fingers as he feels the wisps of gas break free and dissolve, growing the ragged wound. The deep aching weariness inside him grows too as if his sorrows were physically wounding him.
The Ghost Type's paw moves from his throbbing head to over his aching heart.
Throwing pale shadows on the bare dirt the pyre obscures the little Pawniard from view as the dry wood crackles. The thin delicately woven branches bend inwards and collapse to ashes as they burn. Bright sparks of embers that glow like Volbeat's tails dance lightly as they are carried upwards by the air current and though he can't see Courtney any more he can see the delicate petals of one of the beautiful red, black and silver flowers wither and die as the fire bites into it.

Tearing his gaze away from the ill omen the Gengar instead looks up at the full bodied column of white smoke like an infant cloud stretching up into the bright blue sky. The streaming hot gases call to something deep inside the body of the aged ghost.
He remembers back before the infection when he was still young and full of energy and the most beautiful spirit he had ever seen...
A faint smile passes across his lips as he recalls the wonderful feeling of pride at seeing the creamy yellow egg shell split open and bright green eyes open within.
Yballul, his first born son...

It takes a while for TD's distorted words to percolate through the misty haze of remembered and return his attention to the present.
He sweeps his gaze over the pyre, they had built it on bare earth with no room for it to catch and once the wood was exhausted the pyre should collapse in on itself and leave nothing behind but hot ash.
"It cannot spread." The Gengar says but his voice sounds more than a little dazed. His red eye trembles uncertainly for a moment before he blinks and clears his mind.
He hovers forwards, almost missing his step as his old body reacts too slowly, but recovers smoothly and places his soft paw comfortingly on the Vapoureon's shoulder.
His red eye closes as he smiles widely, showing the gleaming points of his white teeth.
"It'll be o.k. I promise."

((Sorry but skip me for now. I'm struggling for Jerome now that Courtney has gone. :c))