(ACE) The PALLET Team

"Mmmmmmmm."

He rolls over to turn his face from the light filtering through a curtain he hadn't pulled all the way shut last night.  The offending line of brightness tickles the back of his head with warmth.

He draws his legs up and his arms inwards.  No, no not yet.  It's warm, and soft, and... and safe.  He's not ready yet.

But as the thought trickles into his consciousness, it only drags him further awake.  He buries his face into the pillow with a tiny whine of protest.  No, not yet.

I'm still tired.  Okay, that's a lie, sort of.  He... actually feels better than he has in a while.  He pulls his head down and then cracks an eye open, wincing.  Despite the fact that the light is not directly in his face, it's still bright.  Stupid sun.  Judging from the brightness of that line, it's not even early morning.  

He's wishing he had that blanket again to pull over himself and ignore what he just saw.  Ugh.  And the fire isn't even there anymore for white noise...

Nor does he have any excuse to just lay here and do nothing.

UGH.

There's the flapping of wings and he sits up, look ing over at Isolde, unaware of how his scarf is on haphazardly and the fur that's sticking up at odd angles on his head from how he slept on it.  He scrubs a fist into his eye, the other half closed as he glances about the room.

"G'morning,"  he yawns.

Shadowmere's paws twitched in her sleep as the hound's eyes darted back and forth behind her eyelids, her brow furrowing tightly. A light whine escaped her, as the hound's mind flashed with images. Blood coating the grass. The hollow white eyes of a young houndour, gleeful laughs and jeers as the towering Houndoom released the bloodied spine of the small fire puppy.

Paws twitching again, the fur of her shoulders was exposed to the open air as the blanket covering her shifted, moving down to the first bone rib along her back. The fire hound's sleep was stirred by gore filled images that flashed back and forth between the rotting corpses that plagued the world attacking, and the body of that poor blind Houndour. Shadowmere's breath started to shudder and spike as that haunting laugh began to echo in her mind, bouncing back and forth, becoming louder and louder.

A small whine that was not her own, stirred the fire hound from her waking nightmare with a startled gasp. The blanket that was previously draped over her back fell back to form a nest around her paws as she sat up and looking around with a suddenly alert mind. Familiar surroundings wrapped around her, and slowly, Shadowmere's groggy mind began to calm and recollect the events of the prior evening. "G'morning." The yawned greeting from Oliver breaks Shadowmere from her sudden wake, prompting the hellhound to blink the gunk wearily from her eyes as she lifted a paw to finish rubbing the irritating stuff that stuck behind.

"Good mor -" Shaowmere's greeting was cut off as a yawn interrupted her, effectively cutting her speech while the finished the motion with a pitched whine. "- Morning." She finished with a smile. "Did everyone sleep well?"

"Just different. Nothing wrong with that." Phobos doesn't say anything back, instead contemplating the words in silence. He cannot remember a time when he'd been told that it was okay to not be like others of his kind. It isn't exactly in the nature of nasty people to be so generous with encouraging words-hopefully. Truth be told, Phobos doesn't really know exactly what people working for his sibling would do if they wanted to get to him; so far it's been guesswork, and a pinch of common sense. Trust can't be given out easily, even with people who seem so nice, but...maybe, with some time, he can come to feel differently. "If you would be so kind, please keep an eye out for intruders, then?"

"Sure!" Nobody is going to get into this house without his knowledge, that's for sure. Their intentions didn't matter; Phobos doesn't want weirdo stalker people hanging out around the place anymore than Isolde does. And no,, Phobos doesn't count himself as a creepy stalker, because he had a legitimate reason to stay hidden. Safety must be remembered when you have a psycho relative, that's just being smart.

"Oh and... if you want to look around the house, stay out of the two rooms with the shut... doors. Su-- someone else only said the first bedroom was clear, and we don't know what's in the others..." Who's Su? Where are they? As far as Phobos can tell, no other Pokemon is around the house or in the town. Perhaps they're...dead? Missing? Maybe that's why Isolde doesn't want anybody in the rooms; something bad happened, and now extra precaution must be taken. Yes, that sounds reasonable. Only now, Phobos feels his instincts tugging him towards the unexplored rooms, needling him to find out what's inside them. Don't even think about it, me-they're NOT safe! Too bad, though; it would really suck to have to float around all night and be stuck in one little area. Gosh, Phobos is feeling stir crazy already at the mere thought.

"We can look in the morning," Isolde says, and with that, she's soon asleep. Deafening silence fills the room; with everyone else frolicking in the unknown realms of slumber, Phobos is now alone, and the shadows seem to stretch farther than they should. It sure is creepy at night, now that he thinks about it. His gaseous eyes dart from one part of the room to the next, as if seeking out obscured beasts lurking in the unlit corners of the house. Some ghost he is, being such a big chicken during what should have been his natural element. Well...at least he'll be better at snuffing out any unwanted 'visitors' this way.

"Goodnight," Phobos whispers to the other Pokemon. Daytime can't come fast enough.


Sunlight has long since drifted into the little human house, and a certain ghost has been nowhere close to relaxed through the entire night and early morning. Lucky for his straining nerves, the others begin to wake up, Isolde getting up with a panicked flapping of wings. Phobos feels the fading murmuring of paranoid anxiety  begin to ebb away as the presence of other Pokemon begins to wash over him. Finally.

"G'morning," Oliver greets them with a yawn, his fur all messed up from sleep. Shadowmere is the next one to speak, her words initially cut off with a sharp yawn. "Good mor- Morning." Boy, is sleep weird, making Pokemon all groggy like this. Did it really help as much as he'd heard it did? From this one night alone, Phobos isn't convinced. Minus the whole being forced to stay up alone and freak out, ghosts have the easier deal for sure.

"Did everyone sleep well?"

"Nope!" Phobos responds in a chipper tone, his mist-created mouth stretching into a smile. "Is sleep supposed to feel nice? I wouldn't know."

Thankfully, all three Pokemon were still there, Oliver and Shadowmere shortly joining her and Phobos in the waking world. The fire monkey was still on the soft bedding as he rolled over as if debating if he wanted to wake up yet. The sun wasn't on his side however, as the light was shining directly onto him, and he soon gave up trying to stay sleeping. Oliver's fur and scarf were all askew as he mumbled out a greeting, "G'morning." Despite his sleepiness, he looked very well rested, and she Isolde was glad that he looked better than he did last night.

Shadowmere was twitching in her sleep before waking, but there was no more indication about what she could have been dreaming about. The blanket nest had shifted during the night so that it no longer covered her as much, and Isolde couldn't help but wonder how one slept like that. It seemed like having something on top of oneself would be a hinderance if they needed to get moving soon, but then again, they didn't rely on wings rapidly moving like she did. The hound was like Isolde in that she also woke up very quickly, and her eyes were immediately alert. She brought up a paw to mimic Oliver's action of rubbing her eyes as she yawned, "Good mor -- Morning. Did everyone sleep well?"

Before anyone else could speak, Phobos spoke up in a cheerful tone, "Nope! Is sleep supposed to feel nice? I wouldn't know." While it was still odd to find someone who didn't need sleep, the child's curiosity was endearing. He seemed happy that everyone was awake, and she felt bad that he had been stuck alone for the entire night. She would have thought about setting up a watch or even staying up herself, but everyone was just so tired last night. Isolde's racing heart settled as everyone's safety and location was confirmed, and she faintly smiled.

She finally spoke up, "Good morning. I slept... Okay. I'm not really used to lying down to sleep, and I'm not sure how you two manage it." She really needed to figure out a better sleeping position for herself, but that would be something to worry about later. They had other things they needed to worry about now that they had daylight. Then to Phobos she said, "Usually. It's nice not to feel so tired anymore." Now that she had daylight, she could get a better look at the human shelter they had selected to stay in. One of the first things she could see was that there was something on the ceiling instead of it being flat like she assumed, and she couldn't help but flutter up to it. The best thing she could compare it to was a flower that was missing a few petals, but she couldn't smell anything from it. She reached to touch one of the flowers, and she found out that the petals were hard and moved strangely. The center of the flower had multiple clear parts that vaguely reminded her of the strange clear walls that Oliver called "windows." She didn't think that the word fit here though. "What is this? I've never seen a flower like it..."

((She's looking at a ceiling fan lol))

"Good mor--" Her words break off, interrupted by a yawn, but she continues the thought.   "Morning. Did everyone sleep well?"

Oliver nods, trying to rub the last of the sleepiness from his eyes.  Phobos pipes up.  "Nope! Is sleep supposed to feel nice? I wouldn't know."

Oh, so he really doesn't sleep.  That's... huh.  Oliver considers what it must be like to not need to sleep.  On one hand, there's no need to fear being too tired to think clearly, or run fast enough.  On the other, he's not sure he can stand being alone with his own consciousness long enough to not need sleep.

Isolde speaks now, addressing the room as a whole first, and then Shadowmere.  "Good morning. I slept... Okay. I'm not really used to lying down to sleep, and I'm not sure how you two manage it."

... Wait, she sleeps sitting up?  Standing?  He stares at her.  That sounds uncomfortable.  Don't horses and cows sleep standing up?  How do any of them stand it?

... Stand it.  Hah.  Oh wow that was a bad one.

Isolde is speaking as Oliver tunes back in.  "--nice not to feel so tired anymore."

Oh wait, she must be addressing Phobos.  Who asked a question.  "It's nice.  Safe?  You don't have to think for a while and it's- s'nice."  His eyes move from the ball of gas to the butterfly as she flies up to the ceiling fan.  Her antennae twitch a bit--is she smelling it?  Or sensing it somehow?  She pokes it and seems surprised to find it hard.  Oliver can't help the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as she examines it.

"What is this? I've never seen a flower like it..."

"It's a ceiling fan.  When it works right, it rotates-- those things you think are petals, they stir the air around, and the moving air cools the room down a little.  Humans and plenty of Pokemon are sensitive to heat.  A ceiling fan isn't powerful enough to keep the room cool when it gets dangerously hot outside, but when it's just at uncomfortable levels, flicking it on makes it much bearable.  I personally don't really need one because I'm... not sensitive to heat-" he gestures to his tail "- but yeah."

(HIS GOLDING POST IS MAKING A SHITTY ACCIDENTAL PUN AND EXPLAINING A CEILING FAN BRB LAUGHING FOREVER)

"Good morning. I slept... Okay. I'm not really used to lying down to sleep, and I'm not sure how you two manage it." Phobos is almost frustrated by the lack of information regarding sleep-okay is just so vague. But he drinks in the rest of the words, wondering why some Pokemon have to sleep differently than others. Obviously it's got something to do with body types and all, and size, but still-wouldn't it be so much easier for everyone to be able to sleep lying down, or however else it worked? It might've been boring, but if sleep really is as important as it's made out to be...well, "one method fits all" would've been a lot more practical than making the process so complicated and convoluted. Why's he thinking so hard about this, again? "Usually. It's nice not to feel so tired anymore." Phobos tries to think of what it'd be like to be "tired," but it only takes a few seconds for him to become frustrated once more. His body's just so different, that's all. Surely being a ghost is normal, even with so many other Pokemon being fully corporeal and capable of things like exhaustion.

"What's being tired feel like?" Gosh, he is full of questions today. But then, he's never really gotten a chance to speak to flesh-and-blood creatures extensively before, and they're all so different from him in both body and soul. Phobos simply has to know more while he has the chance.

"It's nice.  Safe?  You don't have to think for a while and it's- s'nice." Safe...? Has Phobos ever felt that way? Always, for his entire life, it has been as if he's always had eyes trained upon him no matter where he looked or went, and not thinking is an even more foreign concept. He simply cannot imagine not living constantly with his thoughts, or the feeling of being in danger. Mulling over the thoughts, Phobos absentmindedly watches Isolde fly up towards a weird structure and begins to inspect it. What is it like, to forget everything for hours, to be carried away into a realm of peace, to not even be aware of your very existence? Time, space, your own body, nothing would matter... Oh, what's the point. I'll never know myself. There would never be a time when Phobos would not know he was being hunted, or be able to let go of the thoughts that ran laps in his being every second. Ghosts don't sleep, and according to what he's hearing now, that means they never, ever stop thinking, and that means Phobos can never feel safe in his lifetime.

It's the one thing he has full confidence towards.

"What is this? I've never seen a flower like it..."

"It's a ceiling fan.  When it works right, it rotates-- those things you think are petals, they stir the air around, and the moving air cools the room down a little.  Humans and plenty of Pokemon are sensitive to heat.  A ceiling fan isn't powerful enough to keep the room cool when it gets dangerously hot outside, but when it's just at uncomfortable levels, flicking it on makes it much bearable.  I personally don't really need one because I'm... not sensitive to heat-but yeah." Phobos looks up at this "ceiling fan", suddenly feeling a tinge of unease around it. If it moves air around, then that meant it could potentially move him around, completely out of his control. Bad enough that he has almost lost his body several times during fierce winds, Phobos doesn't like the idea of anything other than himself being able to mess with his form, as sensitive as it was. Even if the thing isn't particularly powerful, and he has no idea if it'll actually start moving the mist that makes up his body, the little ghost still doesn't want it on. Human things are fascinating, yes, but in his already worried state, Phobos really doesn't want something else to stress about.

"Might be better to keep it off," Phobos says quietly, hoping they would understand.

"What's being tired feel like?" Phobos inquired. The ghost is just as full of questions as she is, and it makes Isolde feel a bit better about her lack of knowledge as well. Granted, her lack of knowledge was on matters related to humans, and Phobos was wondering about sleep. Part of her was incredibly tempted to offer using sleep powder on the ghost, but she'd wait until nightfall to do so. She was fairly certain that the move would force the ghost to sleep, but there could be consequences, or the ghost could outright not trust her enough to use any sort of move on him.

She mused a few seconds before answering the ghost's question, "The best way I can explain it is... when your body simply decides it doesn't wish to keep moving that day. It's usually gradual before you're so tired you can't keep moving and have to rest. You know how yesterday right before going to sleep, most of us were moving sluggishly? That was because of our tiredness." It was strange to need to explain something that was so natural to her, but then again, her mentor had once had to explain how Isolde was a freak. It wasn't in those words, but it wasn't hard to figure out that she wasn't normal. At least Phobos had an excuse for why he didn't understand corporeal biology.

Her inquiry about the strange flower brought some amusement to Shadowmere and Oliver, but she refused to back down. She didn't have any contact with humans and their strange devices before leaving her swarm, and she needed to know what these things were. Oliver explained, "It's a ceiling fan.  When it works right, it rotates-- those things you think are petals, they stir the air around, and the moving air cools the room down a little.  Humans and plenty of Pokemon are sensitive to heat.  A ceiling fan isn't powerful enough to keep the room cool when it gets dangerously hot outside, but when it's just at uncomfortable levels, flicking it on makes it much bearable.  I personally don't really need one because I'm... not sensitive to heat but yeah." As he explained she looked at the strange device, and she reasoned that humans must be more delicate creatures than Pokemon. When cold, they needed layers of cloth to survive, and even then, that wasn't always enough.

She nudged one of the petals to make the whole fan rotate a little, "How do they even work?" Touching it didn't appear to make the device work...

Nervously, Phobos suggested, "Might be better to keep it off." Isolde stopped her intense staring at the fan to look at the small ghost, and it occurred to her that he was not solid like her and the others. Something like this fan might hurt him even if they did manage to make it work. She mused for a few seconds as she considered her group. Two of them were fire types, which didn't mind heat as much, one of them could be hurt by the fan, and that just left her. While she was from somewhere much colder, the heat was more of an annoyance for her than a concern. Besides, a constant air flow would probably mess with her ability to fly inside since her large wings would definitely catch the wind.

"I agree." She floated back down to the floor, trying to focus on what they needed for the day. Food was definitely at the top of the list, her stomach reminded her, but her eyes were drawn to the now more lit hallway. There were two doors that Sukoshi had cleared, but weren't ready for them to sleep in, and they needed to figure that out sooner rather than later. What if there was an entrance they were unaware of? In a business like tone she stated, "Well, we have two things we need to take care of urgently. Food and clearing the rest of the house. I know I'm starving at this point, but I'm concerned about the unknown rooms. Which would you prefer to tackle first?"

"How do they even work?"  She's staring up at it in confusion.  That's... actually kind of adorable.

"Might be better to keep it off." Oliver looks at him, worried about the note of anxiety in the young ghost's voice.

"I agree."  She floats back to the floor, silent for a couple moments.  She looks calculating.  

"Well, we have two things we need to take care of urgently. Food and clearing the rest of the house. I know I'm starving at this point, but I'm concerned about the unknown rooms. Which would you prefer to tackle first?"

That's an excellent question.  On one hand... his stomach is starting to growl complaints at him.  Glancing at his body it's no wonder why.  He's underweight, and he knows it, pausing to groan inwardly in disgust at himself.  Still, despite his hunger...

"The- the rooms?  If... if there's anything dangerous in there we'd know by now, but still... I think we all might feel better if we just... get that out of the way?"   He wrings his hands in his scarf.  "I could always be wrong, of course, but... y-yeah that's... that's how I... feel..."

They're probably empty, but... something smells... off.  It's not easy to tell, as the room still smells a lot like fire.  It may not even exist; his head might be making it up.  

So I'll just keep that to myself.  If it were anything dangerous, like he said, it would have attacked them by now, so rather than risk sounding stupid or insane... yeah, he sees no reason to confide in them that something doesn't quite smell right, not when he could be completely wrong and there's no chance of it being a threat.

Shadowmere sat atop her small nest of blankets and sheets, Her sky blue eyes drooping with a tired gaze. She seldom had peaceful dreams anymore. Her jaws opened as she yawned, raising a paw to rub at her eyes. "How do they even work?" Shadowmere smiled at Isolde's questioning of the fan. "They tend to turn on with a switch. Usually on a wall." She said quietly, dropping down so that she was laying down on the blankets.

"Might be better to keep it off," Looking up at the ghost, Shadowmere could see why the fan would trouble them. Gastly were made mostly of gas, and the fan would spin those and make it hard to move around. She never liked fans anyway - they made it too cold. "I agree." Nodding, the fire hound had to bite her cheek to stop herself from yawning again. I could do with another few hours of sleep. She thought with a sigh.

"Well, we have two things we need to take care of urgently. Food and clearing the rest of the house. I know I'm starving at this point, but I'm concerned about the unknown rooms. Which would you prefer to tackle first?" Lifting her nose to the air, Shadowmere breathed deeply, trying to sort through the scents, but nothing immediately jumped out at her. While she was hungry, she could wait for a while longer. At least she knew that she would most probably get food today. Some days there she went without eating because she couldn't find any food.

"The- the rooms? If... if there's anything dangerous in there we'd know by now, but still... I think we all might feel better if we just... get that out of the way?" Nodding, the fire hound looked behind her towards the other rooms. "I could always be wrong, of course, but... y-yeah that's... that's how I... feel..." Standing up, Shadowmere stretched and shook out her fur.

"I can ignore my hunger for now. I'd say we get the rooms checked out first." She said, sitting down for a moment so that she could scratch under her chin with her hind leg, standing up afterwards with a short yawn. "Ready to go when you all are."

"I agree." Whew, that's one more thing Phobos can take off of his mind. It's nice to be around rational people for once; he'd half-expected Isolde to turn on the 'fan' just to torment him. Maybe that was being unfair to her, having such expectations, but...hey, he hasn't gotten this far by being completely trusting of every other Pokemon, right? Luckily for him, the subject of the air-controlling fan is quickly dropped.

"Well, we have two things we need to take care of urgently. Food and clearing the rest of the house. I know I'm starving at this point, but I'm concerned about the unknown rooms. Which would you prefer to tackle first?" Oh man, these guys were sure lucky to have a ghost on their side! Phobos is vaguely familiar with "food", well enough to know he doesn't need it, and he can float through walls. No need for doors with him around. If anything sinister is lurking in one of the "unknown" rooms, then he can look and be out of there before anything can notice him. Did humans keep weird, dangerous stuff in their shelters anyways? These Pokemon seem awfully worried over what could be lurking elsewhere, so Phobos assumes that humans must have been well-known for being unpredictable creatures even in the comfort of a home.

Oliver is the first to answer Isolde's question, though he looks-and sounds-rather nervous about it. "The- the rooms?  If... if there's anything dangerous in there we'd know by now, but still... I think we all might feel better if we just... get that out of the way? I could always be wrong, of course, but... y-yeah that's... that's how I... feel..." Phobos is eager to chip in, a spark of his energy revitalized by the thought of being able to contribute. Not to mention there has to be cool stuff in the rest of the human house that wouldn't actively hurt him. "Yeah! I can help, 'cause I don't gotta worry about walls or doors. If I put my mind to it, I go right through them." It wasn't really that hard to do either, all it took was a little concentration. See, being incorporeal did have its benefits. Had yesterday not been such a mess of confusion and stress, Phobos might have remembered to mention this little ability of his.

"I can ignore my hunger for now. I'd say we get the rooms checked out first." If Phobos could nod without moving his entire body, he would have. Say, what did hunger feel like? Thanks to Isolde and Oliver, he kind of had an idea of what sleep felt like, but hunger was something else altogether. Phobos would have to ask later; what these Pokemon used for 'food' had to be at least a little interesting, and he is ever eager to learn more.


{ooc: I figure ghosts like Gastly could like...phase through walls, since they're not entirely corporeal lol
let me know if anything needs changing though}

Oliver was the first speak up and Isolde's eyes went to him as he spoke, "The- the rooms?  If... if there's anything dangerous in there we'd know by now, but still... I think we all might feel better if we just... get that out of the way?" He brought his hands together to mess with his scarf as he nervously voiced his opinion. "I could always be wrong, of course, but... y-yeah that's... that's how I... feel..." She nodded as she listened to his input, but she waited for input of the others before making a final desicion. While she agreed with the fire monkey, if the others were desperately hungry, then she needed to ensure that was taken care of first. Though... if she was being honest with herself, he looked the worst off of their small group. He was clearly underweight. If he was okay with waiting a bit, then the others were likely able to handle waiting.

"Yeah! I can help, 'cause I don't gotta worry about walls or doors. If I put my mind to it, I go right through them," Phobos excitedly added his input. She took his enthusiasm as another vote to check the rooms first. He seemed eager to explore the rest of the house, and he brought up a good point. He could go through the doors without opening them and could get away the easiest. Sukoshi hadn't said that there was anything dangerous in the rooms, but Isolde was concerned if something had come in through an unknown opening during the night. While having a kid go in alone made her uneasy, she reasoned that the ghost had been doing this for a while now. He had done a fairly good job of staying hidden while he observed the group the night prior, and it was likely only because he stayed for so long that he was "caught."

Shadowmere was the last to voice her thoughts, and she agreed with the majority, "I can ignore my hunger for now. I'd say we get the rooms checked out first." After stretching a second, she started scratching her chin with one of her back paws, and Isolde couldn't help but stare a few seconds at the strange sight. Quadrapeds were so strange... "Ready to go when you all are." The hound didn't appear to be as nervous as she had been earlier, thankfully, and she was ready to go. Isolde really hoped that this would just be a quick look in, making sure any 'windows' were closed, and getting on with the rest of their day.

She nodded to her group and said, "It's settled, then." Pixel eyes met the small ghost's as she asked, "Phobos? If you can, just take a quick peek through the closed doors and make sure there isn't anything moving."  She fluttered down the hallway so that she was between the remaining closed doors, and waited for the rest of the party. Something was bothering her. For the moment, she chalked it up to being in such an enclosed area, but the sooner they checked the remaining rooms, the better. She was simply thinking about undead or living things that were usual threats to her, but then she remembered this was a human household. "Um... Wait a little bit, Phobos." She looked to Oliver and Shadowmere and asked, "Do humans keep anything he should watch out for?" Her eyes focused more on Oliver, as she had come to expect the small fire monkey to have answers to her questions involving humans, though Shadowmere had shown that she had knowledge of humans as well.

To his immense relief, Isolde gives him a sign of approval, nodding while showing no signs of aggression of distaste.  Okay, good.  Off to a good start.  Sharing opinions and making decisions based on them, as a group, yup, he can totally do this.  Oliver lets out an anxious giggle of relief.

"Yeah! I can help, 'cause I don't gotta worry about walls or doors. If I put my mind to it, I go right through them."

Oh that is SUPER cool.  He stares at the Ghastly with stars in his eyes.  

Maybe ghost powers don't have to be all scary.  Maybe ghost powers are awesome.

"I can ignore my hunger for now. I'd say we get the rooms checked out first."  She stretches and scratches herself, Isolde staring at her with what could be fascination.  Guess he's not the only one here getting schooled in other types of bodies he's never really seen before.  "Ready to go when you all are."

"It's settled, then. Phobos? If you can, just take a quick peek through the closed doors and make sure there isn't anything moving."  Oliver follows her down the hallway but pauses when she does. "Um... Wait a little bit, Phobos."

She glances at him and Shadowmere. "Do humans keep anything he should watch out for?"

"W-well- humans who have pets or Pokemon, the- the pets or Pokemon would defend the territory if someone broke into it, but well... they're all gone now.  Only other thing I can th-think of is a security system?  And- and that needs electricity, which also isn't a th-thing anymore, s-so... we should be good?"   He shrugs his skinny shoulders, feeling anxiety well up again, and glances over at Shadowmere.

Phobos's enthusiasm was contagious, Shadowmere found, as they happily piped up, "yeah! I can help, 'cause I don't gotta worry about walls or doors. If I put my mind to it, I go right through them." Shadowmere's thin tail waved back and forth, a silent approval from her as the fire hound chuckled lightly, a smiling warmly.

"It's settled, then. Phobos? If you can, just take a quick peek through the closed doors and make sure there isn't anything moving." As their little group started heading down the hall, an odd scent hit Shadowmere's sensitive nose. She paused for a moment, lifting her head up and trying to determine the scent, but the smell of ash and woodsmoke was clogging the scent. The fire hound shrugged and trotted to keep up with the others. It was probably just her imagination. "Um... Wait a little bit, Phobos." Shadowmere's sky blue eyes met Isolde's pixel ones as the bug regarded her and Oliver.

"Do humans keep anything he should watch out for?" Sitting down, Shadowmere hummed quietly, her head tilting to the side slightly as she thought. As she thought to herself, she listened to what Oliver was saying as well, making sure that the monkey had them covered. "W-well- humans who have pets or Pokemon, the- the pets or Pokemon would defend the territory if someone broke into it, but well... they're all gone now. Only other thing I can th-think of is a security system? And- and that needs electricity, which also isn't a th-thing anymore, s-so... we should be good?"

With a nod, Shadowmere approved silently. "O-Oliver is right. Most threats are probably gone by now. Some humans d-did keep other weapons, and kitchens usually stocked sharp utensils. B-but the basics, like a security system and other pokemon are probably all we'd find here. Maybe a-a knife, or in rarer cases, a g-gun, but without t-the proper appendages, l-like thumbs, both are useless." She said looking around. "I didn't s-smell anything dangerous, so I think we're g-good."

Phobos is beaming with pride at this point, awaiting the response his offer to help would give him. Right on cue, Isolde looks at him, no doubt wanting to send him off on this essential mission. He wouldn't fail! How hard could scouting out a few rooms be, anyways? "It's settled, then. Phobos? If you can, just take a quick peek through the closed doors and make sure there isn't anything moving." He eagerly follows her over to the unexplored section of the human house, wondering why anyone would want such a thin corridor...thing in their living spaces. Wouldn't humans feel cooped up and stir-crazy here? Unless they can go through walls too... No way, that couldn't be true, because Phobos would have heard about it. Mom always said corporeal things were trapped by walls, and that has to include humans as well. Still, it'd be pretty cool to see a human like that...a spirit human! He's ready to be the sneakiest ghost in the history of the entire spirit realm, if it meant catching a glimpse of an elusive human and their potentially-real, fantastical ghostly counterparts. Now, for the moment everyone was waiting for; Phobos is going to-
"Um... Wait a little bit, Phobos." The ghost hesitates at first, but quickly stops and shrinks back a little, not wanting to make Isolde angry. His luck must be still with him, though, because she is talking to Oliver and Shadowmere instead of scolding him. Whew, another bullet dodged. "Do humans keep anything he should watch out for?"

I doubt human things could hurt me! Phobos thinks smugly to himself, but it can't hurt to listen and find out a little more about how this strange species once operated. Did they have vicious demons guarding the inner sanctums, or perhaps a legendary guardian that would awaken as soon as he slipped through one of the walls? Or even better, maybe it's all just boring, safe stuff. "W-well- humans who have pets or Pokemon, the- the pets or Pokemon would defend the territory if someone broke into it, but well... they're all gone now. Only other thing I can th-think of is a security system? And- and that needs electricity, which also isn't a th-thing anymore, s-so... we should be good?" What in the world is a “security system?” Phobos knows of Electric Pokemon-did humans keep Electric-types as some sort of protection? Gosh, I know NOTHING. Shadowmere's response, unfortunately, is equally confusing for the little ghost; the only thing he really gets is that there's a very low chance of danger, which is good for him. "O-Oliver is right. Most threats are probably gone by now. Some humans d-did keep other weapons, and kitchens usually stocked sharp utensils. B-but the basics, like a security system and other pokemon are probably all we'd find here. Maybe a-a knife, or in rarer cases, a g-gun, but without t-the proper appendages, l-like thumbs, both are useless. I didn't s-smell anything dangerous, so I think we're g-good."
”So I should have nothing to worry about?” Phobos asks in response to the information he's been given, and drifts over to the door closest to the already-explored room. In his usual childlike haste, the ghost is raring to find out what awaits him inside. ”I'll start here, then!" Gathering the mist of his body together, and focusing entirely on the door standing in his way, Phobos shifts through it with little trouble. Unlike stone, or anything else he's gone through, he can barely even feel the door as he passes through it. Weird. Well, at least he's on the other side.

The first thing he notices is the sheer amount of white; it dominated the other colours in the room, including the...including the...What in Uxie's name? There is something tied to some weird, bowl-shaped object, a shriveled, lifeless creature Phobos cannot identify by sight alone. Its head's been torn right off, and Phobos moves in closer, examining the twice-dead Pokemon. No visible bite marks...probably claws, then? There's no way the wound is old, so who could have done this? Isolde and Oliver, no, and Shadowmere is unlikely too, considering the size of her claws, and he doesn't want to entertain the idea of something ripping a head off with their bare paws. Phobos floats back away from the corpse, mulling over what he's just seen. The poor thing looks awful, shrunken; was this what a lack of sleep did, before it became a red-eyes, or was it something else entirely he has yet to learn about? I don't know enough to figure this out. I might as well go back. Besides, staying in this room alone is starting to creep him out, as if the spirit of the dead red-eyes is starting to possess the very air. Feeling very exposed and vulnerable indeed, Phobos shifts through the door again, more than happy to be far away from-from whatever that was. Even if he doesn't yet know or trust them, simply the presence of other Pokemon is a lot better than being in that uncomfortable little room.

”Well, uh, there's nothing moving in there,” Phobos begins to explain, ”But there's a tied-up dead body of a red-eyes, with...um, no head. Who could've done that? It didn't look like an old wound...”


{sorry for the shitty post orz}

Oliver answered her question quickly, and it sounded promising. "W-well- humans who have pets or Pokemon, the- the pets or Pokemon would defend the territory if someone broke into it, but well... they're all gone now.  Only other thing I can th-think of is a security system?  And- and that needs electricity, which also isn't a th-thing anymore, s-so... we should be good?" He shrugged his shoulders as he looked over at Shadowmere to add anything. The monkey had a good point about any living guards likely being gone by this point; if one had still been there, they would had already run into it. The words security system meant nothing to her, but she would take Oliver's word for it if he didn't think that would be a problem. The fact that it required electricity intrigued Isolde for the dangerous element seemed impossible to tame.

She followed Oliver's glance over to the large hound, and Shadowmere added, "O-Oliver is right. Most threats are probably gone by now. Some humans d-did keep other weapons, and kitchens usually stocked sharp utensils. B-but the basics, like a security system and other pokemon are probably all we'd find here. Maybe a-a knife, or in rarer cases, a g-gun, but without t-the proper appendages, l-like thumbs, both are useless." Isolde wondered if that meant Oliver could use those things if he wanted to or any Pokemon like him. They'd definitely need to look around the "kitchen" to see if there was anything like Shadowmere described; even if they couldn't use the items, they'd want to make sure something else didn't. The hound glanced around as she continued, "I didn't s-smell anything dangerous, so I think we're g-good."

The young ghost quickly asked, ”So I should have nothing to worry about?” Isolde nodded a little nervously, while it should be safe, she couldn't help feeling that something was off. Maybe being inside this closed in structure was getting to her... Phobos was showed none of their nervousness as he excitedly chose the door next to the one already opened. ”I'll start here, then!" He paused a moment to focus, and then the ghost went straight through the door. Even though she had expected it, it was still surprising to actually see it happening. She kept alert for any sounds of distress indicating that she should go in, but Phobos was completely quiet. He stayed in their longer than she expected, and she was relieved when he came back out unscathed. ”Well, uh, there's nothing moving in there,”  he reported. Noticing his hesitance, she waited for him to continue his explanation. ”But there's a tied-up dead body of a red-eyes, with...um, no head. Who could've done that? It didn't look like an old wound...” So there was something they'd have to deal with later.

She muttered, "Maybe Sukoshi did that earlier? He said he checked the rooms and cleared them..." That was her best guess. If it wasn't his doing, then... she had no clue what could have done it. Since the door was closed, if it had been something else, then it would have had to escape through a different exit. Thinking about the cat hurt; he had saved her life, and she had failed him horribly. Realizing that the small ghost wouldn't know who that was, she quickly explained, "He was a cat Pokemon. Purple fur and long claws? I don't think I caught what his species was called..." She moved to the door and started fiddling with the knob, "Anyway, I want to make sure there isn't an opening... or something else is covering up that smell. Otherwise someone should have smelled it sooner..."

((She still doesn't understand how door's work, lol.))

"O-Oliver is right. Most threats are probably gone by now. Some humans d-did keep other weapons, and kitchens usually stocked sharp utensils. B-but the basics, like a security system and other pokemon are probably all we'd find here. Maybe a-a knife, or in rarer cases, a g-gun, but without t-the proper appendages, l-like thumbs, both are useless."

Thumbs.  Thank god for thumbs.  He rubs one of his with the opposite hand.

"I didn't s-smell anything dangerous, so I think we're g-good."  Oliver nods in agreement.

”So I should have nothing to worry about?”  Isolde nods; though she seems reluctant to give the okay, Phobos is eager.  ”I'll start here, then!"

The little ghost takes a moment to concentrate and then... and then phases right through the wall.  Oh.  Oh wow.  

Definitely super cool.

He returns quickly.  ”Well, uh, there's nothing moving in there.”  

... Nothing moving.  Oliver's stomach sinks a little.  

”But there's a tied-up dead body of a red-eyes, with...um, no head. Who could've done that? It didn't look like an old wound...”  

The boy gags.  Tied up?  Decapitated?  Undead?  Well, now he knows where the source of that smell was.  His head wasn't making it up after all.

Did it die tied up like that...?  Did it live out the rest of its undead days like that?  Who tied it up there?  His head is spinning.

"Maybe Sukoshi did that earlier? He said he checked the rooms and cleared them..." Oh... that does make sense.  He must have dispatched a threat...

So, it hadn't died before they got here.  He shudders.

"He was a cat Pokemon. Purple fur and long claws? I don't think I caught what his species was called..." He opens his mouth to tell her, memories of Anne reading about Liepard from her copy of The Great Big Book of Pokemon flashing through his head, but watching her struggle with the door redirects her attention. "Anyway, I want to make sure there isn't an opening... or something else is covering up that smell. Otherwise someone should have smelled it sooner..."

"I- I did sm-smell it, just- very f-faintly.  I didn't even really think it was real?  And um- the door you- you take the knob; s'that shiny thing.  And you turn it.  Here, l-let me...?" As she moves from the door, he leaps up and grabs hold of the knob, bracing his feet against the door and turning the knob. It swings slowly open, and he lets go and drops to the floor.

(Permission to move Isolde a little.)

Phobos is uncertain of exactly what to do. Do they want him to go back into the room, in case he hasn't snuffed out whatever danger is lurking in the house? He'd been so focused on the corpse of the red-eyes that he barely bothered to look at the rest of the room, after all. No orders to return to the inspection are directed at him, but Isolde does look a little thoughtful. The entire time Phobos has known these Pokemon, she's definitely set herself up as the leader type, so the ghost wouldn't be taken aback if she knows what could have done that...beheading. "Maybe Sukoshi did that earlier? He said he checked the rooms and cleared them..." Wait, what? Who in the world is Sukoshi? Phobos can remember Isolde almost mentioning a Su-name last night, but he'd brushed it off as nothing important. But if there really was a Pokemon named Sukoshi, then his absence and the lack of either mentioning or searching for him is far from a good sign. ”Sukoshi-who?”

Luckily for the little ghost, he's not left to his confusion for long. "He was a cat Pokemon. Purple fur and long claws? I don't think I caught what his species was called..." Long claws, huh? Phobos wouldn't know his species from a hole in the ground, but from what little he now knows, it seems Mister Sukoshi is their most likely candidate. Well, um...hey, there's still a bright side! He's made sure they don't have to handle the gruesome task of taking care of the miserable, shriveled creature themselves; it's a lot better than thinking that a red-eyes was alive and in the house with them the entire night. That's actually a really disturbing idea. Now feeling like Dei is staring right at him, like they always used to, Phobos glances over to see Isolde is now trying to get the door open. Unfortunately, she doesn't seem to really understand how the thing works; at least they've got that in common. Having no limbs of any kind, Phobos fails to see the point in humans having something as convoluted as a 'doorknob'. Why didn't they just make it where you could push a door open? "Anyway, I want to make sure there isn't an opening... or something else is covering up that smell. Otherwise someone should have smelled it sooner..."

"I- I did sm-smell it, just- very f-faintly.  I didn't even really think it was real?  And um- the door you- you take the knob; s'that shiny thing.  And you turn it.  Here, l-let me...?" It's a good thing they've got Oliver here to help out the corporeal Pokemon...which is basically everyone but Phobos himself. He frowns at the now open door, noticing that it takes a lot more effort to use the doorknob than to just shift through the entire thing, but only he has that luxury. Admittedly, it is a little nifty to see how different Pokemon could overcome weird human contraptions. Going through doors is still a lot cooler, though... Phobos is in no hurry to be inside that weird room again, though, only drifting close to the door out of a mental obligation to not look like a total coward in front of others. Hopefully the other room is sunshine and rainbows, because he's not really looking forward to more bodies. It only makes him start to wonder what would happen to his own form, should he die...well, again. Phobos is worried less about the dying itself and more about the fact that his physical form will likely end up vanishing from existence altogether, and nobody will even remember him.

What a lovely thought.

{writer's block=hell}

Thankfully, Oliver realized Isolde's problem quickly and explained, "I- I did sm-smell it, just- very f-faintly.  I didn't even really think it was real?  And um- the door you- you take the knob; s'that shiny thing.  And you turn it.  Here, l-let me...?" Since she had made no headway, even with his verbal help, she moved out the way to let him fix the problem. The small monkey jumped up to the metal knob and twisted it, and the door swung open easily. She really needed to get him to show her how to work the doors for future reference; while she thought she had an idea about how to turn the knob, she wanted to be absolutely sure she knew how to do it correctly. Maybe I should ask him for clearer directions for the next one? Deciding to just have him walk her through the next one, she simply focused on the now opened door and ventured into the even stranger room.

It was entirely different from the room they had been staying in, but her eyes immediately went to the afore mentioned now completely dead Pokemon. She flinched when she realized how the unfortunate Pokemon had died in the first place; its shriveled body spoke of starvation, and it had been stuck in this room until it died. "Poor thing..." The thought of being stuck in a place with no way out utterly horrified her, and she couldn't help but glance back to make sure the door stayed open. During this she noticed a strange hard object and asked, "What's this thing?" It had less then desirous fungi growing in it, and when she fluttered closer to it, she caught a very powerful whiff of something rotting. She scrunched up her face and nudged the thing away from her and the group with her longer legs. "Eehhh... I'll take care of it later." When her attention turned back to the body, her eyes followed the long fibrous thing that sat around it's neck. She asked, "What do you call the thing it was tied to, Oliver?" It had been bound to a white hard thing that looked like the chairs in the room they had been occupying, but it seemed different. Those chairs looked like they provided comfort while this one didn't appear comfortable at all.

Her eyes went upwards, and now she saw the problem. Between the dead body and the object covered in mold, there should have been a stronger smell, and she was fairly certain she could trust Oliver and Shadowmere's noses. Ignoring the body for the moment, she flew over it to an opening on the far wall that was allowing the smell of the outside to come in and the smell of rot and decay out. The way this opening looked was familiar, and it took her a moment to remember where she had seen something similar. She hesitantly reached a hand out to touch it, but only found open air. She quickly grabbed the edge and leaned out, checking the area. This opening was a problem on many fronts, and they had been lucky that apparently nothing had come in during the night. Thank goodness for complicated doors... After her surveillance, she asked over her shoulder, "Is this another window? Why can I go through this one?"

"Poor thing..."

Isolde's words both sum up everything and yet nothing at all.  They're not strong enough to express the agony stabbing at  Oliver's chest, the sick horror welling up in his stomach.

They died here.  This Pokemon-- a fellow starter, too--was tied up here, probably after they got bit, and they died here, alone, in the bathroom.  Alone and afraid and in pain.  He wants to throw up.

"What's this thing?"  Oliver tears his eyes from the dead Bulbasaur to glance at what Isolde is pointing out.  He opens his mouth to answer, but Isolde dismisses her own question.. "Eehhh... I'll take care of it later."

Fine by him.  He doesn't trust his voice at the moment.  e returns to staring at the Pokemon.  There aren't even coherent thoughts, just... emotion.  Pain.  It's not until she calls his attention again that he tears his eyes away.  "What do you call the thing it was tied to, Oliver?"

She's looking at the toilet.  For once Oliver welcomes embarrassment.  It's better than overwhelming grief.

"Th-the uh... t-toilet.  Humans u-um... they... they use it for..."  He gestures a bit, struggling to recover those words that sound less gross than 'peeing and pooping.'  He knows they exist and they won't make his face turn any redder than it has.  "U-urinating and d-defecating.  I-into the round part.  The knob on the rectangle part would activate water that would suck the waste down the hole in the bottom of the round part.  It would get swept away into what humans call a sewer system.  It was their invention for a more sanitary society."  He'd mention the very basic definition of a sewer system, except he's pretty sure she doesn't even know what a pipe is.  

As he explains, she flutters around, a thing he fails to notice because staring at literally anything else (except the dead person) is preferable to looking at her face as he rattles off that information.  Maybe he spoke fast enough for that last bit for her to have stopped listening.  In fact, he can hope she heard none of that at all.  And won't ask again.

When she speaks it's to address something new she found rather than his explanation.  Thank god.  "Is this another window? Why can I go through this one?"

Huh?  He steps his way around the body to join her, frowning.  What's she describing- oh.

"A- a window.  It's just o-open."  He points at the sliding pane of glass.  "Windows are made to open so that fresh air can come into the room.  See that white rim?  If you grab onto that and pull or push down, a section of glass will slide down into place and close the window."

Shadowmere felt bile rise in her throat as she looked at the scene in front of her. Swallowing thickly, the Houndoom fought off the urge to gag, tearing her eyes away from the corpse. Why hadn't she smelt it? "Poor thing..." Opting to look anywhere else but at the poor Bulbasaur, Shadowmere's eyes were drawn towards the open window, her eyes widening slightly. So that was why she didn't smell the scent of death. The window was blocking it. Add that onto the scent of ash and fire, and the rotting smell was easily dismissed.

"What's this thing?" Looking over at Isolde, Shadowmere strolled up, her nose protesting as the small of fungi and rot hit her snout. Stopping before she got too close, the hellhound looked towards the white-winged bug, tilting her head slightly. "Eehhh... I'll take care of it later." Well... If she was okay with that, then Shadowmere wasn't going to argue. That thing stank. "What do you call the thing it was tied to, Oliver?"

Unwillingly looking back at the corpse, Shadowmere's eyes trailed to the rope which bound it, trailing along the length of the rope, Shadowmere had to bit her cheek hard to stop from snickering. Isolde was looking at the toilet. Coughing to cover up the embarrassment that the subject brought up, the Houndoom let Oliver explain this one. "Th-the uh... t-toilet.  Humans u-um... they... they use it for..." Oh Darkrai, was he actually going to tell Isolde? Shadowmere felt heat rising to her muzzle, and she looked away, her face burning and her eyes were widened slightly. "U-urinating and d-defecating.  I-into the round part.  The knob on the rectangle part would activate water that would suck the waste down the hole in the bottom of the round part.  It would get swept away into what humans call a sewer system.  It was their invention for a more sanitary society." Oh that poor, poor child. Shadowmere was trying to hard not to laugh, thankful that the embarrassment from the subject kept her amusement down.

Shadowmere paced towards the toilet, looking at it, glad that the lid had been placed down. Perhaps if she jumped up onto it, she could close the window? "Is this another window? Why can I go through this one?" Looking up, Shadowmere noticed Isolde was observing the window, a thankful sigh escaping the fire hound as the subject of the toilet was dropped. She felt so bad leaving Oliver to explain that on his own, but that was something that even she didn't want to explain.

"A- a window.  It's just o-open." Shadowmere jumped up onto the top of the toilet, her claws trying to grip the smooth porcelain for a moment as she found her balance tipping forwards slightly as the momentum from the jump pushed her forwards. "Windows are made to open so that fresh air can come into the room.  See that white rim?  If you grab onto that and pull or push down, a section of glass will slide down into place and close the window."

Turning so that she could rise up onto two paws, Shadowmere placed the other two on the window sill, nosing Isolde to try and move the Vivillon out of the way. "Like this," she said, moving her muzzle to the latch, Shadowmere hooked one of her teeth over it and pulled down, the glass pane creaking slightly in protest before it gave way, sliding down and closing the window with a soft thump. "It's a lot easier for humans, or Pokemon with hands, but these kinds of windows are ones that I know how to close with a little effort." She explained, jumping off from on top of the toilet and back onto solid ground.

Her question was met with embarrasment from Shadowmere and Oliver; the hound looked away as Oliver explained, and the Chimchar's loss of words had nothing to do with nervousness. She tilted her head to the side as she waited for him to finish explaining."Th-the uh... t-toilet.  Humans u-um... they... they use it for..." Here he vaguely gestured, but the effect was still lost on her, and she waited for him to spit his words out. "U-urinating and d-defecating.  I-into the round part.  The knob on the rectangle part would activate water that would suck the waste down the hole in the bottom of the round part.  It would get swept away into what humans call a sewer system.  It was their invention for a more sanitary society." Oh. That... that explained the embarrasment. She decided to not inquire anymore on the matter, though she was impressed that humans had come up with something to handle it. If anything else, her embarrasing question apparently lightened the mood and allowed the others to not focus on the poor creature's horrific death.

Everyone quickly jumped to the next topic of the strange window, and Oliver explained, "A- a window.  It's just o-open." She turned her head to look at him as he spoke, and she noticed Shadowmere deftly moving around the body and to the toilet. Oliver pointed towards the opened window, and she turned back to look at it better. "Windows are made to open so that fresh air can come into the room.  See that white rim?  If you grab onto that and pull or push down, a section of glass will slide down into place and close the window." She saw what he was talking about and reached up to touch the white part, but it didn't move at all.

"Oh, I see..." she muttered as she leaned closer to to inspect it.

She heard something jump onto the toilet, and she felt something trying to nudge her out of the way. Isolde shifted over as she tried to see what was going on. Shadowmere had balanced on the precarious white structure and placed her front paws on the lower ledge of the window. "Like this," Shadowmere instructed before leaning over, biting the lower end of the window, and pulling down. The window squeaked slightly, probably from disuse, but closed without much issue. Task finished, Shadowmere jumped down and explained, "It's a lot easier for humans, or Pokemon with hands, but these kinds of windows are ones that I know how to close with a little effort." She was admittedly impressed by the ease the hound had managed to close the window, and she was fairly certain she could replicate it. It seemed simple enough.

With the window closed, it was time to move on, but she felt the need to address the obvious, "We ought to bury this one, but it can wait for now." She fluttered over the body again to exit, but she paused a moment directly over it. Her white wings vaguely glowed green as she used Aromatherapy. The sweet and soothing scent of the attack floated through the room, and she hoped it helped cover the smell of the body and the other object even more. "It's... a custom where I'm from to... cover the body with a... pleasant smell," she lamely explained; she was unsure how to explain everything that her swarm did involving the dead, but covering the body with a calming scent was a tradition granted to friend and foe alike. Unfortunately, a lot of the reasons for why they did this was gone, but Isolde had figured a practical reason. Death had a smell, and rotting was unpleasant. Ritual done, she fluttered back into the hallway waited for the rest to follow.

Oliver watches as Shadowmere demonstrates the complexity of a window by showing Isolde how it closes.  Good lord, how did she not just fall off of the toilet?  Dog claws aren't made for gripping and porcelain is too smooth for them to gain any traction.  

For a moment he recalls Anne's visit to an elderly neighbor and their Lillipup trying to run across kitchen tiles.  They're probably not made out of the same material, but... well... they're probably close?  They're smooth and hard and white, anyway.  In fact porcelain may be more slippery.

He notes the dog pulling the window closed with her jaw and resolves not to get on Shadowmere's bad side.  Dogs have strong jaws, he knows this, but seeing one in action is... unpleasant.  She must have a decent amount of muscle power.  The boy looks despairingly at his own skinny shoulders.

All he has is his firepower.  He's not even really sure if he could close a window anymore, what with all the windows probably being a bit stubborn from disuse...

"We ought to bury this one, but it can wait for now."  He turns his head back to Isolde and nods, moving to follow her out of the room, but when she pauses, so does he.  Oliver watches in silent awe as a soft breeze wafts a sweet smelling scent over the body.  "It's... a custom where I'm from to... cover the body with a... pleasant smell."  

It's like flowers.  Fitting, for the memorial of a grass type.  Maybe she'll do it again at the actual funeral.  That would be nice.  It's a thoughtful custom.  And one that's helpful for the living, too.  The scent is... soothing.  He could swear his heart is beating slower than it had been so far.  

Maybe it's not appropriate to feel this good in a room serving as a coffin.  He tries to push the good feelings away and waits for Isolde to lead them out.  Next up would be the adult room, right?

For once, Phobos doesn't feel a tugging interest in the explanation of human things, or even towards the way Shadowmere could close the window. Normally, he would have been all over the place, asking questions and just wanting to know more. Being in this room-or more accurately, near it-is only making him more uneasy by the second. The little ghost thinks of all the torments Deimos put him through, and there is one in particular that this room is bringing to the forefront of his mind. When Phobos was first learning how to control phasing through solid objects, there were times when his sibling would trap him in dark places, leaving vague threats as to what would happen if Phobos tried to escape. The Gastly would stay put, alone and scared; he knew he had the ability to escape, but the fear was too overpowering for him to even dare to try. That same helplessness...it permeates this very room, like an omnious wind. Maybe this whole house is like a trap waiting to be sprung, and the longer Phobos waits, the more vulnerable he is to the bad things that are inevitably relishing their chance to strike. His first instinct is escape, but is there anywhere he can go where Deimos won't find him?

"We ought to bury this one, but it can wait for now." That catches his attention. Bury...? What is Isolde talking about? Even though it is in his nature to immediately ask, Phobos keeps his mouth shut. He'd already asked a billion questions, and maybe just one more would finally be enough to upset her. The fact that none of these Pokemon have yet told him to stop talking, or uttered even a single threat, is a miracle in itself. The last thing the ghost wants is to screw it up. Instead, he occupies his mind with watching how Isolde's wings glow green, an action the Gastly does not understand the purpose of. Phobos feels...calmer? Like there aren't any eyes watching him, just outside of his own field of vision. As far as he can tell, nothing else has happened, but maybe whatever Isolde is doing only affects emotions; Phobos isn't corporeal enough for anything else. Right now, he kind of wishes he was. "It's... a custom where I'm from to... cover the body with a... pleasant smell,” the Bug-type explains, leaving Phobos as perplexed as ever. Shadowmere gets it, but the one word out of everything she says that really clicks with the Gastly is graveyards. He knows “graveyards”; apparently a lot of ghosts did, but he'd never been told exactly why. Deimos liked those, though Phobos had never been interested in a bunch of rocks with unintelligible scribbles on them. But if Shadowmere associates this body with graveyards, and Isolde mentioned “bury”, then...those rocks, is that where corporeal bodies are placed? He knows some people bury objects important to them, and what's more important to a flesh-and-blood creature than their own body? It makes complete sense, though the choice of using rocks was really strange. Phobos can barely hold back a stream of more questions, and a little bit of his mood is lifted at figuring out the weird puzzle. There's nothing better than being able to figure something out without being told.

At this point, however, they seem to be done with this room, to Phobos' relief. ”Putting bodies in rocks...I'll never understand it,” Phobos mutters to nobody in particular while following after Isolde, barely aware that he's even speaking out loud. This is a style choice he'll probably be questioning for the rest of the day. Right now, though, they've still got a room to investigate, hopefully one that won't be as awful a reminder as the last place was. In reference to the last unopened door, he asks Isolde, ”It's that one next, right? Should I go in now?”