FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Fable woke slowly, the outline of her room coming into a dull focus, tinted by the green haze of her peridot eyes. She yawned, forcing herself to sit up as her hands ran over the surface of her body. No wounds. No cuts. No holes. Only her emerald gem embedded in her chest. The small Sableye let out a sigh. It had been that dream again. The only one she ever had or, at least, the only one she could ever remember having.

Not that she really needed to sleep. One of the perks of not being alive was not needing things that kept others alive. Things like food, water, or sleep, were unnecessary to her - she never found she really desired these things... except for shelter, for comfort, but they were still pleasant to her to indulge, in the same way one might smoke or drink. She couldn't die again, after all. What would she even become if she did? What did a ghost's ghost look like? Questions like these always rattled around in her head after waking. Seemed to be the only time of the day her head was really clear, before the realities of who she was and where she was sunk in. Sleep was a convenient way to stay on the world's schedule, and came with the added bonus of escaping the little problems of existence for a few hours.

The worst part for her, though, were the dreams. Or, really, the one dream. Every night, playing in her head for the duration of her slumber, she would see the same scene, feel the same feelings, smell the same smells. The last hour or so of her life, before it was snuffed out due to sustained injuries. When she'd risen, she'd found some information on her old life, a name, what she used to do, and the fact that she was a trainer pokemon. In the morning rattle of her ideas, she wondered if today was the day she should call him. To reach out, and make herself known to him. It'd been almost fifteen years though. Would he remember? Would he even care?

The thoughts added to the droning that slowly started to clutter the dark ghost's mind as it filled with tricks, pranks, taunts and other things she could do to spread her own particular brand of fun to Cafe Plaisir, the brothel she'd recently taken up residence in as a client. She grabbed her necklace from the nightstand - a small cat's eye marble, yellow, with a red and purple swirl along the center hung at the end of a clasped string. She slid it on, watching it twinkle gently, reacting to her natural energy, as the small orb of Sablenite touched her. She always felt better having it on - you never knew when you needed a wall in a pinch.

Her ace firmly attached to her neck, she reached out and grabbed a sheet of paper that the necklace had been sitting on and unfolded it. Tattered and yellowed from age, and with some repairs made with pen over the years, Fable looked once again at the information for her old trainer. He'd been in his early 30's when she'd died, putting him in his mid 40's by now. She read over the words, as if she didn't know them by heart at this point.

Original Trainer: Seth F. Wyss Originally From: Quilcene, WA Age: 31 Sex: M Trainer ID No. 055079 Trainer Rank: 6-2 Pro2Creation Employee ID: 0001221920339 Military ID: URAR-20905507K

_ _

There was other information - a short blurb about how upstanding a citizen he is and some other general stuff - the sort of details one might find in a fluffy newsprint piece. Nothing that really mattered, at least not to the Sableye at this time, except one little detail on the bottom of the page. This is the part Fable had wanted to look at. She looked at the ten digit string on the bottom of the page. Who knew three little letters and ten numbers on a yellowed piece of paper could give someone like Fable so much pause.

Tel: 360-765-0640

She'd lost track of how many times she'd stared at that number, or how many hours she'd spent wondering if she should call. As much as she loved her Sablenite, it couldn't protect her from whatever was on the line. That number held so much, and yet, so little. It could very well be the key to who she is... well, was. But she'd died. That life was over. She'd started a new one, with new friends, new enemies, new perks and new challenges. What did she have to gain going back to her old life? She honestly didn't know - she couldn't remember what that life had been like.

Death was funny like that. Without a mind to store memories in, they got twisted away. They became mere feelings, things that inhabited the spirit as it took its form. All that was left of her old life was the pain that'd pushed her into unlife at all; pain which formed a knot at the core of her being that she didn't know how to resolve. Maybe this number could resolve it? Maybe having it resolved would let her move on. But... did she want to move on? She was happy where she was - living it up in her afterlife. No need to fight, no need to struggle, had a good job and valuable gems just sticking out of her body - enough to allow her the penthouse suite at Cafe Plaisir, a place that was not exactly cheap, for an extended amount of time. All in all, given what her dream was like, this was a step up. Hell, maybe she'd died and was just in heaven, or ITEM, or the Distortion World, or whatever other afterlife some of those crazy religions claimed.

Still, what was there to lose by calling the number? She didn't know if he was even alive anymore, let alone if he'd remember her. He may not pick up at all, even if he wasn't dead. It at least couldn't hurt. Maybe he'd care. Maybe he'd want her back. Maybe he'd want to raise her, if he was still training... He was getting a little older now, but that didn't stop some of the higher ranked trainers. But did she want to fight? Did she want a trainer? She had a happy unlife. Would it be worth throwing it all away?

Fable shook the assorted doubts and confusions from her head, bringing peace to her internal monologue, and cast around the room. For all its opulence and splendor, she didn't feel any better for being in here. Maybe she needed a bath in the jacuzzi. Maybe she needed to go take a walk. Maybe she needed to go and torment a particular security Espeon. Maybe she needed to go do _literally_anything else than worry about a life that wasn't hers.

But it was. Was. But hers all the same.

Her eyes locked on the room's phone, and her hand hypnotically lifting the receiver from the hook. She read the directions and with a steeling breath, she began to slowly punch the numbers, and put the phone to her ear...

Ring... Ring... Ring... Ring... Ri...

_ _

_ "Hello?"_ came the voice from the line. It sounded like a man.

...Fable held the receiver to her ear, not even knowing what to say.

"Hello?" the voice called again. "Is there someone there?"

_ _

_ _ "H...hello?" Fable squeaked out in reply. Her free hand clutched her gem - it couldn't protect her from the conversation, but it did make her feel more safe. Nothing like a giant wall...

"Hello!" The voice said, sounding more cheerful with a response.

"Is... is Seth Wyss there?"

"In the flesh, missy! Sorry, I don't recognize this number, who are you?"

"F-fable."

"Fable? Well, what can I do for you today, Miss Fable?"

Fable held the line. She didn't know how to say this. It sounded crazy in her head. Hi, i'm your dead pokemon calling you from beyond the grave to ask you about my old life. Her mind raced, thinking of how to put it, how to ask it, what to even say. Finally, she had a thought.

"Mr. Wyss... Do you mind if I call you Seth?"

"Not at all."

"Seth, I'm calling on behalf of Pro2Creation, I'm one of the consultants here, and I see that one pokemon registered to you hasn't been active in some time. Is that pokemon still available for breeding service?"

The line was quiet for a while. Fable held her breath, before realizing she was a ghost, and didn't need to breathe.

"I thought I filed that paperwork a decade ago. No, sorry. Nyem... well, he died back during the Liberation. I'm no longer affiliated with your group. I retired a few years ago. It just doesn't make sense in this world we live in, not like it used to."

Fable wanted to ask so many questions. Nyem was in the Liberation? Her memories were dying on some battlefield during the Liberation... Also, he?_Did Seth just say _he?

"I'm sorry to trouble you, Seth. Just one more question: did you say Nyem was male?"

"...Yes, he was. Gallade. Strong, fast, smart. Raised 'im myself from a Ralts."

_ _

_ _ Maybe it was time to drop the charade. These questions needed to be asked.

"Seth, sir. I... I'm a Sableye."

"I don't see how that matters, but what's a pokemon like you doing working for Pro2 anyway?"

_ _

_ _ "Well... Sableye are ghost pokemon. We come from the unresolved emotions from the dead. When I woke up, I found a package from Pro2, saying that I was Nyem... or Nyem is me, I guess, and offering me work... It also came with information on you."

"I was wondering how you got this number. Not many have it. But I'm sorry Miss Fable, but I don't think you can be Nyem's ghost."

_ _

_ _ Admittedly, this was not the answer she expected. "Why not?"

"Well, he's male for one thing. You sound clearly female. He also died in the liberation fifteen years ago. If you are his ghost, you should have contacting me a lot sooner. I asked him to give me a sign I don't know how many times back then."

Fable's face grew a nervous expression. "I...'ve had the number for almost fifteen years now. I don't know why I never called you sooner. Fear, I guess."

"You guess. A ghost, afraid! That's rich! Nyem was never afraid of anything, even his death, and you can't even make a phone call a decade later. No missy, you can't be Nyem." His voice sounded... derisive wasn't the right word. A tempered patience that was starting to crack.

"I have his ball." Fable said simply in response.

"What." The voice was sharp, and sounded incredulous. And mad.

_ _

_ _ "His ball. Heavily damaged quick ball?"

"I don't know about heavily damaged, but it's true, I did lose the ball he was in. I recalled him while he was dying, but... I saw the ball's light go from red to black. I knew what had happened. I lost track of the ball coming back home. How it got into your hands is nothing short of a miracle. Is he still in it?" The sharpness seemed to fade a bit. He almost sounded... excited?

_ _

_ _ "I-i don't know." she stammered

"Why not?"

"I never opened it."

"So how do you know it's his?" Seth demanded

"Because it came with the letter telling me I was him, and giving me your contact information." she replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Seth seemed to be considering this. "So, you say you're Nyem, a psychic/fighting type of the male-only species Gallade, reincarnated as a dark/ghost female Sableye named Fable."

_ _

_ _ The truth was stranger than fiction. "Yes, that's correct."

"And you believe this because Pro2 gave you a letter with a ball you've never opened and assume contains what you believe to be your own corpse, and tells you who you are and who I am?" Seth continued, as if trying to get his bearings on the situation.

_ _

_ _ Again, Fable confirmed.

"I thought you guys were low before. I may have opposed the Liberation back then, but I've changed. The Liberation happened, and now I support my pokemon as equals, not as tools or pets, like you all clearly continue to. You're selling children for profit, genetically engineering them. You and your whole organization makes me sick that I was ever associated with you. Now, fifteen years later, you call me up, claiming to be some ghost, reincarnated version of Nyem to hurt me. I've made peace that I can't apologize for what I did to him or what he did for me, but I don't need you assholes calling me up and trying to use it to twist the blade all these years later. Never call me again, ever. If I have to hear from you again, Miss 'Fable', if that is your real name, then I will find you and unleash the full hell of an E-1 leader on you. Do you understand me?" Fury oozed into his voice. He practically screamed at her by the time they were done.

_ _

_ _ Fable said nothing. Seth had told her a lot, and had also threatened her a lot. Even her prospects of being unkillable didn't seem to be reinforcing her ego, like it usually did when someone threatened her. She felt small, scared and alone listening to the man she thought had been her trainer before unleashed his salvos of furious anger upon her.

" Do I make myself clear, miss."

"Y...yes, sir. Th...th-hank you for your time. I... I hope you have a pleasant rest of your day."

"Rot in hell." Seth replied, the phone connecting harshly with a hook on his end.

Fable sat for a moment, phone held to her ear with a paralyzed shock. She didn't even notice it was there until the friendly voice on the phone started telling her how to make a call. She slowly, absently, returned the phone to the hook, letting her conversation with Seth sink into her. It was a lot to digest.

She needed someone to talk to, and she needed something to take some of the edge off. Maybe someone who could do both, and she knew just where to find someone like that.

Fable sat for a while, staring blankly. Seth's word rang loud in her ears, rattling around within her as they landed. Each time they connected, they burned a part of her mind. She hadn't considered the implications of the work she had been doing up to this point - everyone had always seemed appreciative of the knowledge she'd provided and the services she'd offered, it never occurred to her to think twice about the morality of the employment she had. It was a lot to think about this... what time was it anyway?

Her room's alarm clock helpfully informed her that it was just after 1 PM. She didn't know when she'd woken up, but it had felt like an eternity had passed since then. The number she'd held for so long, the paper she'd taken so much care to maintain and keep track of. To repair and keep close to her. The one link she had to who she'd once been. After all these years of working up courage. She unfolded the paper, staring at that number like she had for countless hours before wondering what she'd done, or what she'd said that'd prompted him like that.

Like she didn't already know.

Seth had reacted the way she'd always feared he would. He wouldn't believe her, and he'd attack her. After all, she was dragging up the memory of his precious dead partner, who, for all he'd known was dead, buried, lost and gone forever. Then some person calls you up fifteen years later? She admitted, she could have handled it better.

Fable finally pushed her way to her feet, letting out a heavy sigh as she felt gravity return to her body. The weight of her own body seemed alien to her, and the world seemed like some sort of waking nightmare as she got her bearings. The basement. That's where the staff quarters are. She thought. I'm a paying guest, and I need some company right now. Let's go find some.

Instead of slipping down through the shadows like she normally would, she opted to take the long way down. She left her room and took a left to get to the elevator. When she got inside the small room, she pushed the button for the Ground Floor before looking around and smiling as the door closed. There was still a stain on the ground. Barely perceptible, but there all the same. A reminder of a very pleasant encounter, and a reminder of who she really wanted to see.

The waiters of the day shift seemed to be taking their place on the floor, with the morning crew parting ways from an austere looking grovyle, some heading to the staff areas, others seemingly making their ways to the door. Apparently not all the staff lived here. Weird. She thought that all the staff just made their homes in the basement. But she knew where she needed to be was in the staff area, and last she checked, she wasn't staff.

She did, however, recognize a large, very red ninetales she knew to be an employee. Mostly due to her deciding that big, red waitstaff were good things to pick on in an attempt to get a rise out of them. To date, she'd gotten a few idle threats and promises under his breath, but he had yet to make good on them. Today, though, she wasn't in the mood to pick on him. But he was going towards the staff area, and he did have a large, impressive shadow.

She grinned, making sure no one was looking as her body began to liquefy. She dripped away at her edges, slowly losing definition as she seemed to drain into a shadowy grate in the floor, until she was completely gone, vanished into the shadows. She could still see clearly, and found a way to her target - the big red ninetales. Shadows were everywhere. She slid around the wall until she reached the corner, waiting for her crimson bus to walk past.

As soon as he did, she merged in with his shadow, following him through the winding halls to the staff area, then through another two hallways and a flight of stairs to the basement, where the staff rooms were. The Ninetales came to a stop outside one of the first rooms and opened the door. Fable decided that it was now time for them to part ways, even if he hadn't known she was there, per-se. She broke off his shadow, moving to the nearby wall as he made his way into his room, and shut the door behind him. Fable stepped forward out of the shadow; no one else seemed to be around right now, and she could get a more clear look at the world around her, without the twinge of shadows that often got in the way when she was lurking in them.

"October" read a sign that hung on the door. At least the rooms were marked. Otherwise this would have been impossible. The basement of the cafe was nothing like the well-laid out areas above it, where everything appeared to be designed to appeal to the various senses. Down here was more poorly maintained, and showed less care. Almost as if the staff's living quarters were more a necessary afterthought than someplace truly planned. Something about the area just felt... off to her. Like she was in some dingy hotel or old apartment building. Still, she wasn't about to be deterred. She knew where she had to go.

Well, in theory. She wandered around the hallways, looking at the doors, trying to make it look like she knew where she was going, and that she belonged down here. There we a surprisingly large number of rooms down here. After a few minutes of wandering the hallways, looking for "an empty room," she found her way to one in particular. There was a name hung on the door. "Varalen". She liquefied once more, melting away into shadows as if through some ethereal drain, and slipped under the door.

Fable didn't know what had possessed her to come here. It was stupid. What she was doing wasn't just some kind of prank or harmless fun. She was breaking and entering the room of a security guard. Well, not so much breaking, mostly just the entering. She didn't know why she couldn't have waited until later - the Espeon was curled up in bed, still sleeping peacefully. She paused for a moment. Maybe she should just leave. She'd caused enough trouble today from pursuing things she'd wanted. Besides, she didn't want to get another Dazzling Gleam to the face. Last time he'd done that, she wasn't able to slip away for a while. If she woke him up, and he did that to her again, she'd be stuck here for a while. She weighed her options, then let out a quiet sigh.

It was worth the risk. She slowly, gently crawled into his bed and wrapped her arms around him like a big thistle-colored stuffed animal. That was twice her size. And was breathing. And was warm. It made her feel a little better to hug the Espeon, even if she didn't know him all that well. He was the only one she'd really had any meaningful interaction with yet, and with everything that had happened to her today, he was probably the friendliest face she had. She tried not to think about how sad that was as she tried to get another shot at sleep. She may not need it, but she really wanted to try and take another shot at the day.

Some time later, Fable was awoken. It wasn't a gentle sort of nudge awake. It was more getting blasted by Dazzling Gleam against the wall while a very irritated, slightly blushing Espeon stared you down sort of awake. She instinctively grabbed her glittering gem and, with a rainbow wave, she was brought to a stop by the big, heavy gem that emerged from her chest. Not a good restart to her day. Locked in a standoff with the companion she'd sought out for comfort.

Sleep started to wear off, and slowly the Espeon seemed to recognize who she was. It took him a minute to parse her though her mostly transparent gem. It was a very interesting experience watching Vara's face run a full gamut of emotions. Starting from shock and anger to seeing her here, in his room, in his_bed_, to fear and remorse for attacking a paying customer, to happiness at seeing which paying customer it had been, before flicking back to fear and remorse for having hit her of all people. Eventually he seemed to settle.

"Fable...? What are you doing down here?" The Espeon finally asked, sounding incredibly groggy.

"I had a rough morning, to put it lightly." she responded, voice shakily dripping with frustration and fear.

"That doesn't give you permission to come into my room without asking." He said, sounding a lot less harsh, more just flustered.

"I... know. I know. I should have called, or asked, or even just knocked. After everything that happened, I just wanted to be near a friendly face." She recognized the irony in that his face was not looking very friendly, but a mix of emotions, none of which struck her as overly friendly. "Here, please... just... let me explain."

So she explained what had happened that morning. Vara watched her, his expression swiftly growing more despondent as she explained the letter, the ball, and her dreams. Then she started talking about her call with Seth, still holding her gem up between them in case the Espeon wanted to take another shot. Instead, he got up, crossed to her, and pulled her into as good a hug as he could, embracing the imp tightly.

"I'm sorry you've had such a rough day so far." Vara said, quietly, when Fable finally stopped.

"Hey, bad days happen. That's just life. Or unlife, as it is." She let out a small, hesitant laugh, which made Vara hug her tighter. She let the gem fall over with a heavy thud, before it shrunk back down and returned to her body, as she hugged him tightly back.

It was fortunate for Fable that ghosts didn't cry. When your eyes were made of gem, it was very hard to make tears. That didn't stop her from feeling sad, nor did it prevent Vara's hug from making her feel better, at least in a small way.

"How rude of him. If you're really Nyem's ghost, he should treat you better..."

"Well..." Fable started, "I don't know if I am. I think I am, but all I have to go on is the letter I got from Pro2, the breeding manual, and the ball."

"What's in the ball?"

"I don't know."

"Like, you didn't recognize it?"

"No, I never opened it at all." Fable said.

Vara was quiet for a while, considering. "You've had it fifteen years and never opened it?"

"Well, yeah. I don't know what's in it. But I can't go in."

"Well, it's either broken or occupied." He said with a small frown. "Though I don't know which is worse."

"Tell me about it." Fable laughed.

She didn't know why, but Vara smiled broadly, seeming to enjoy her laughter. He decided to change the subject before the conversation went further on about the ball.

"It doesn't matter."

"What, the ball?" she asked, curiously.

"The ball, the contents, the letter, the manual, noneof it matters."

"How's that?" She asked again, really wondering where he was going with this.

"Well, you've never been in the ball, right?"

"Well, no..."

"And have you ever met Seth?"

"Not really, but..."

"Are you Nyem?"

"What?"

"It's a simple question. Are you Nyem?"

"Well, no. I'm Fab..."

"Exactly!" Vara said, cheerfully, giving her another squeeze. "You're Fable, not Nyem. Whatever Nyem did and whoever Nyem was doesn't matter. His life and your life are two vastly different things, and it sounds like you're better off for it."

Fable considered this. Why did she care so much about who she used to be? Why did it matter at all? Vara was right. She'd been so stupid, chasing the ghosts of her old life, when she was the ghost of her own life. Except she had a new unlife, a second chance of sorts. She didn't need to spend it haunting or hurting or sorting out the problems Nyem might have had.

It was true. How had she forgotten that she had her own life now? Why had she even cared what her old life had contained? It wasn't like she became any less herself just because some old trainer on a piece of paper thought she was lying. It didn't make her any less herself because one potential route to her past was closed, should she ever want to actually learn more about who she once was. Sometimes, it seemed, everyone needed a reminder for things they already knew.

She squeezed Vara tightly. "Thank you." She said. "...thank you." She repeated, too overwhelmed by possibilities her life now presented to her. To think, it took death to make her start living...

"You're welcome." Vara said with a happy smile, looking incredibly pleased. "You know... I don't have to be upstairs for a while yet. If... you... uh, wanted to get more sleep..."

She watched him start to blush slightly, before interrupting him and nodding. "Yes, I'd like that, let's go back to bed." She sounded a little tired herself, and appreciative of his talking to her. She was inclined to get a little more affection in before either of them had to go anywhere.

"Bwrf..." He squeaked as he slipped back into bed, followed shortly by the imp. After a small amount of maneuvering, the pair embraced. She snuggled gently into him, sighing gently. She was glad she'd come down here. It'd had been a long day, and the end of a long life. But with a new lease on life, she could comfortably say, at least when she woke up, that her spirits had definitely been raised.