Early Mourning Ritual

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That was fucking embarrassing.

I know.

You just- you stood there screaming at the sand for over four hours! You didn't even make a single mote of this Dark energy shit or anything!

I know…

You voice is croaked to hell and back, Litleo laughed at you like he said he would do, then you went and started shoulder-checking a fucking boulder like that was going to help. What were you thinking?

I just wanted to not be useless, okay?!

Too late! Now you have a child thinking you're useless, a sore shoulder and a broken voice that'll last for two days. Good job, woman. There'd be slow clapping at that, but I'm just the part of you that's angry at yourself.

This place sucks. She gets the sudden urge to throw a fit and break something, but the condition of her surroundings stops her. And I still don't know where Shinx is.

He's probably dead in a ditch, somewhere. The feeling admonished. Nice one, Dick Mullen- oh, wait, he doesn't exist: he's a fake detective that doesn't stop searching for a lost person just so he could learn superpowers and magic. You're worse than a fake detective.

Zorua briefly contemplated if it would be worth it to throw herself back into oblivion, if only to shut up her brain.

Then a different feeling pipes up. Okay, I think that's enough self-admonishment. You've been at this for hours.

She feels bewildered at that last feeling, then a bit annoyed. Hey, where were you when I needed a pep talk?

You wore out your self-esteem trying to use powers and screaming like a maniac for four hours, all while a kid laughed at you. I needed a break.

Oh. She pauses. Are you feeling better?

Yes.

Good, good. Another pause. How am I supposed to feel better? Do I go do a feel better thing, or…

A small, whispering feeling crawls up her spine. Getting a few drinks sounds divine right now. Maybe a few glasses of wine to grease the sleeping wheels: it can't be healthy to not sleep for this long.

For once, that little feeling has a point. This coming morning marks the third day she hasn't slept. As to why that is, Shinx made a point that some pokémon don't need as much. Still, she feels like this is unnatural in some way: living things need to sleep, even if it was for a handful of hours. Not being able to sleep after doing a whole day's worth of activities is…

Don't forget the drink. The feeling whispers. The drink is key to relaxation.

For all I know, it is key. Where can I find some alcohol around here, anyways?

At a bar… It trails off, almost beckoning.

Well that was a new objective, if she's ever heard of one. Guess she can go looking for any bars in this town. There has to be at least one dive, somewhere: what kind of town doesn't have some liquid courage?

(A Spinning Twirling Stumbling Apologizing Wandering Wondering Searching Deciding Mixing Hearing Smiling-)

She shivers, curling up a bit more. That's mostly thanks to the holes in the walls.

Right, her current dwelling - if it can even be called that - isn't the greatest. Some part of her says it isn't the worst, either. That thought really doesn't comfort her, though.

After being laughed at and ribbed by Litleo the entire walk back to the abandoned neighborhood, where he didn't give her so much as a 'goodnight' before retiring to his home for the night, she didn't have many options on where to stay. She could chance heading back to Shinx's place, but while that would help solve finding Shinx, she doesn't want to intrude on the kid for another night. That, and she has no clue if he would even be there.

She doesn't want to be anywhere near Litleo, mostly because she can only handle being laughed at by children so many times before she wants to curl up into a ball and wish to disappear back into that oblivion she first remembered. Also, he's a kid. She's not going to rely on children to stay safe: it's supposed to be the other way around!

Which lead to the surrounding neighborhood and all its abandoned homes. She searched most of them, some she couldn't even enter because of the weather damage collapsing some roofs inwards, and found one with the most stable roof. For some reason, they aren't tree houses like Litleo's tree hollow, but she figured at this point that the architects of Treasure Town don't care about sharing an ascetic. Funnily enough, it's still within eyeshot of Litleo's den, about a half-minute walk from hers.

Of course, it isn't perfect. Far from it, really. The breeze comes from a hole in a wall that she managed to cover with a rotting table of decent size, then got a rock from outside to keep it upright. The front door's hinges are so rusted that she has to shove her entire weight onto the door to shut it, only to find out that she couldn't open it anymore unless she pushes it from the outside. She has to move the rock and table if she has to leave, now.

She looks despondently at her paws. If only she had hands, then she could get a grip on the door and not have to push a rock that took her ten minutes to drag into the dilapidated home.

Hold on. The feeling says. Why did you think that?

Think what?

"If only I had hands." Why 'hands'?

…because hands are good at, you know, doing things? Like opening doors.

But you could have said "I could nail a rope to the door, then use my teeth to drag it open." The feeling countered. There's a lot you could do with your jaws, but you haven't bothered to use them at all. Not even to carry that basket of food you got Litleo: even he picked it up in his mouth.

Which was… true. Very true. Not once did Zorua want to pick up something in her mouth to carry or interact with it. It was all with either her paws or her body. Hell, when she was trying to use a Move like Litleo said pokémon can do, she barely used her paws except to ram herself into a rock and her jaw wasted on yelling out words as if it'll activate something within her.

Not claw. Not bite. None of that.

The feeling picks up on her silent realization. You see? You act like you don't even have the parts of your body that could help you. It's always something else.

She sighs. Then what could it be? For all I know, I'm just used to being around a pokémon with hands, or something.

True, if this mystery pokémon had to touch everything before you could.

When the feeling doesn't come up with anything else to say, she takes another look around the small shelter. The floor used to be packed with dirt, but over time grass and weeds trickled inside, concentrated near any opening that had holes to let light inside. The biggest collection of greenery is by the strange hole she put the old table against. There's even a line of it that has been flattened by the rock she dragged in. Because it's autumn, however, the grass and its green luster has already started to fade.

Zorua has examined everything in this room about seven times already, but she has nothing else to do. The boredom has started to set in, with her mind racing to do something that isn't waiting for sleep, which also hasn't come for her for some unknown reason. With that, and the feeling of spending hours upon hours sitting down, waiting for daylight to come, she decided to leave early.

Of course, leaving early meant that she had to move the rock again. The front door isn't going anywhere, anytime soon. At least from this side, with her lack of hands and their fancy thumbs.

It takes her longer than she'd care to admit to move the rock without knocking over the table, then try to move the table down without shattering its dry rotted legs and surface. Even then, the effort left her huffing and puffing for air, the urge to drink something gripping her throat.

The basin inside that house has been dry for some years. The feeling supplies as she glances back at said bowl. The others around here were mostly the same, with the ones with caved-in roofs full of rainwater.

Right. Can I drink that?

Not unless you want to shit your brains out.

Oh.

As she steps out into the dark of early morning, she takes a look around the abandoned neighborhood. Then pauses. I can see pretty well in the dark. That doesn't seem right.

Sure enough, most of the dirt street is quite visible in the starlight and gibus moonlight. The color of everything is lacking, but everything is bright enough to see shapes clearly enough, if only in grayscale.

Who knows? The feeling hums. This is just another hand situation. Although, if you look to your left some…

When she does, she spots Litleo's tree home. Litleo's?

Yes. A fully furnished home, one with clean drinking water in an unbroken basin. You could bother him for a drink.

Sounds like a plan. With that thought, Zorua takes the half-minute walk down the street to the front of Litleo's tree.

The night is oddly quiet. The only sound that graces her ears is her own breathing and the sound of her paws softly treading on the packed dirt road. Even when she hits grass, the sound barely shifts to something else.

It's almost too quiet. The feeling observes. Maybe another look around is in order?

Shrugging to herself, she stops a few steps away from the door and turns around. She gives the run down street one more look, eyes drifting from one house to another. Each home is in various levels of abandonment, and seeing how Litleo lives in a hollow inside a tree, the effect makes this one place look like a ghost town. It's even worse, considering how she's the only one out and about, well into the night. Morning is coming, however, so the sky should start to lighten soon.

Praise be to the internal body clock. The feeling cheers. Useful for timing things like this.

That's nice and all, but I still don't see anything out of place. She gives the street one more visual sweep before turning back to the tree house. Now, about that water…

She goes up to the door and raises a paw to rap on the door, then pauses. Wait, my paws are too soft to knock with.

Hands would be useful here.

She glares at the offending paw, then lightens the look. It is super cute, though.

Very cute. Like little black beans on a patch of ashen snow.

Seeing how knocking isn't going to help her, she tests pushing on the door with the paw.

It slowly swings open, only letting out a small squeak after the halfway point.

She stares at the doorway.

…he didn't lock the door? Wait. She thinks back to last afternoon, then to her own shelter's door. Hold on- why doesn't his door have any locks? Why doesn't mine have a lock? Do any homes around here have locks?

The feeling rushes to her forethought, bringing a sense of urgency. He could be in danger, get in there!

Her eyes widen as far as they can go, then her legs start stumbling as fast as they can to get her into the one-room home.

"Litleo, are you-" She starts to shout, voice panicked as adrenaline starts to pump into her mind.

Then her eyes are almost blinded as a ball of fire the size of her head suddenly appears from across the room, rushing right for her-

And then it stops.

She wants to flinch when she realizes that, but her body doesn't move. She tries to look down at what could be stopping her, but her body doesn't listen to her. Even her eyes can't peel themselves away from the oncoming doom of burning orange flame.

W-what's going on? She thinks to herself, panic still fresh in her mind.

A feeling not unlike a crisp breeze falls over her shoulders, then… something changes in her. The level of panic doesn't lessen in her, but it's almost as if it doesn't cloud her thoughts anymore than stubbing her toe would make her feel mildly annoyed and pained.

That's me. Almost as if responding to the feeling, the colors in the blinding flash of fire and the surrounding room seem to… bleed? No, they drip like wet paint, pooling around the floor and swirling in the air like mist. That was close. Another 0.4 seconds and your face would've been cooked.

Uh… She feels the urge to blink, but she can't. Did time stop working, or something?

No, time is working fine. Another feeling said. This one almost tickles her skull. But your perception of the world is working overtime.

Oh. She focuses on the ball of fire heading towards her. Sure enough, she can see little embers drifting off to the side, slowly, like watching paint dry. Even those weird paint-mists seem to stylize it in an oddly beautiful way. However… So that's cool and all, but there's still fire heading right for my brain container. I need my brain container.

Well… The feeling makes her limbs feel almost liquid, ready to move at a moment's notice. In about 0.3 seconds, it will have passed through the space that your head occupies. If you drop straight down- no, down and slightly to the right, then you'll be out of the red. Your fur will get clipped, though.

As long as I don't get third degree burns on my face, then I'm all for it.

Good, because if you want to do that then you need to move right about NOW-

-but she throws herself down - and a bit to the right - narrowly avoiding the fire as it sails over her head and out into the street.

The scent of singed fur reaches your nose. This is the best-case scenario. One feeling tells her.

Eyes forward: whatever threw that at you is still in here with you and Litleo. Another feeling warns.

Wait a second… Another says, then drifts off.

Not willing to wait for her feelings to get in order, she stays in that crouched position as her eyes adjust from the sudden flash of light. As soon as Zorua can see again, she has to find out what is assaulting her and find out what happened to Litleo.

(You Are Now Manually Breathing Laughing Crying Despairing Spiraling Falling)

Say something detective-like. That's what detectives do, right? A feeling tells her.

No! One stops her. You need to order it! You're the law woman here, they need to listen to you!

She feels her face pull back into a snarl. "Stop firing, in the name of the Law! Where's Litleo, scumbag?!" Her voice is low, husky, and dangerous.

"Wait- you?!" A surprised voice shouts. A very, very familiar voice.

Ah. The feeling that trailed off huffs. Well that explains the fire.

What does? She tries to see where the next move will come from, but as her eyes adjust to the dark once more-

Litleo is there, hackles raised as he stands on his bed. A near bone-deep relief floods her, but she uses the last bits of adrenaline coursing through her veins to search for whoever broke into the room and shot that fireball at her.

There's nothing else in the room, other than a blanket on the floor. It's the very same one that was on his bed, if she remembers correctly. Everything else about the room is about the exact same as she remembers. Even the food basket is in exactly the same place as she remembers.

"Where did they go?" She asks Litleo. She slowly moves to keep her back to the wall, but Litleo safely in her sights.

His face pulls through a few different emotions, then settles on annoyed. "Who are 'they'- why are you in my house?!" He yells, hair sparking.

Hair… sparking?

There you go. Catching up now, are we? The knowing feeling drones.

Zorua keeps her stance on the floor, but turns her head to look fully at Litleo. "...the guy. The one who shot me?"

Somehow, his hackles raise higher. "That was me, you fucking idiot! You broke into my house and started shouting, what- why?" His voice cracks again at the end.

She frowns, red brows drawing low. "Your front door was unlocked, I thought someone already broke in!"

"What do you mean 'unlocked'? Wait- no-" He shakes off his confusion, leveling a glare on her. "No, stop, just- why are you in here?" He asked for the third time.

If I may? A feeling asks her.

What is it?

I believe we had the wrong idea. Take a look at the door?

She turns away from Litleo - who is still glaring at her - and to the door. She looks it over, trying to find a way of forced entry. She doesn't see any damage to the door itself, so force wasn't used to open it, so she looks down at the small groove that seems to act as a handle for Litleo to use.

She stares at the small divot, which is bare of any noticeable locks. She tries to look for any deadbolts instead, where she also doesn't find any.

…he doesn't have any locks?

Correct. There weren't any at the other houses, too.

That's… She turns back to Litleo, her face more confused than before. "Why do you not have locks on your door?"

He looks bewildered- or, well, more so than before. "Why would there be a lock on a door? That's a chest thing!"

Now it's her turn to feel annoyed. "Why? Because some crazy person or burglar could just walk in and stab you or take your shit, that's why!" She looks down at the floor, shaking her head as if the absurd situation would fix itself.

Litleo stares at her for a moment. "...right. Crazy 'mons breaking in."

He means you. You're the crazy one.

She nods, ignoring herself. "Good. We're going to go to the market and get you a deadbolt or something, this is ridiculous."

His stare turns flat. "What makes you think we're going shopping?"

"Because with our powers combined - your 'having money' and my hustling - we can take the market by storm, kid. Also, the sooner the better, now- wait."

She's about to turn back to the door, then turns her whole body around and starts walking over to the side of the room.

Litleo watches her, an almost-growl in his voice. "I'm pretty sure I said this wasn't going to be a thing, so how about you-"

She steps up to his water basin and dunks her head into it.

Ah, sweet heavens! This water tastes divine! Keep drinking!

He stops talking as she takes large gulps of water for almost half a minute, before coming back up for air. "Ah, that's better." She looks over to Litleo, fur on her face sagging under the weight of water. She smiles. "Thanks for letting me have a drink."

Litleo looks down at the basin, then back up to her. "I didn't let you…" He scoffs. "Whatever, just get out of my house, it's not even morning yet."

She glances outside. If she squints hard enough, she can almost see the sky shifting a slightly lighter color. "It's morning."

"No it isn't."

"Yes it is."

"I can barely see, therefore it's not morning. Get the fuck out so I can sleep." He carefully grabs the blanket off the floor and throws it back onto the bed, starting to crawl in himself.

"I can see the morning light upon us, therefore it is time to grind. Now let's get ready to-"

Stop!

Her jaw clicks shut. She stands extra still, just in case. What is it?

Litleo paused to look back at her. When he sees her standing absolutely still, his head cocks to the side. "What? Finally take the hint?"

Turn your head about 73° to the left. Listen.

She does so, even going so far as to twist her ears slightly for better reception. Listening closely, the silence of the night goes on behind her. The lack of insects chittering disturbs her, for some reason.

Then, quietly, she hears an echo of… something.

The sound is echoing off the buildings outside. The feeling observes. Something's happening.

"Something's happening." She repeats out loud. .

"...what's happening? Did you hear something?" He seems to lose part of his edge towards her and look out the door, too.

She lifts a paw and waves him closer, then gently steps closer to the doorway. When she reaches the entrance, she takes a peek out into the street. Somewhere behind her, Litleo's footfalls are just as quiet as hers.

He knows when to be quiet. Her feeling whispers.

Out in the street, nothing seems to be out of the ordinary. True to what she said, the dark, star-spangled sky is starting to lighten, said stars beginning to hide away from their cousin much closer to this world. The oranges and violets of dawn are still a good few minutes off, but for now she can see a bit better than before. Still, this bend of the street is still as empty as it looked before she entered Litleo's home.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

I don't see anything out of place. One feeling states. She notices a slight bend around the home she was squatting in, her eyes hanging on that. There's the groove you made from the rock you dragged in. There's nothing else out of place within eyeshot.

I thought what I heard was an echo? Wouldn't it be somewhere away from here? She looks down either way on the dirt street. It hasn't come closer, I think.

You think true, my liege. The direction was distorted from being inside, but being outside should help find which way it-

The thought is interrupted by Litleo, whispering to her. "You're not hearing things, are you?"

She frowns, whispering back. "That's what I'm doing, now hush."

He doesn't listen. "What did it sound like?"

"I don't know."

"Did you hear voices, or was it some kind of move someone was using in town?"

"I don't-" She stops to look back at him. "How would I know that? The only move I've ever seen used was that fireball you just did."

"Then what do you know?" He shoots back, equally annoyed.

She waves a paw along the street. "Echoes. Something loud enough to be heard from somewhere either up the street or down it. I'm trying to find out-"

Shut.

Her mouth closes with a click. Her ears automatically move to listen to the air, waiting for the soundwaves traveling across them to make sense in her head.

Then, almost like a low roar, a sound like a cross between a screech and a wail sounds from further up the street- towards the center of town.

There's pain in that cry. Her feeling notes. A pain that sounds familiar. Horribly familiar, to the point that the sound rakes your eardrums.

As she comes to her senses, she sneaks a peek at Litleo. His ears are also perked up, facing towards the same direction. "Hey, I think I heard that. Sounds like some ghosts partying early in the morning, or something."

He means that literally. Ghost-types, being too rowdy at this time of morning.

She shakes her head. "Sounds sadder than that. It… almost sounds painful."

He glances at her. "Painful?"

She shakes her head. "Sorry, I mean- it's more like mourning."

They both fall silent after that, looking down towards the bend in the street leading towards the sound.

"...welp." Litleo yawn, loudly. "Good thing we found that out. I'm going back to sleep."

"Wait, wha-" She starts, looking back at Litleo.

Instead, his front door slams into her face.

Somewhere behind it, she hears a voice. "Go look at it, or whatever. That should keep you occupied until late morning."

She's about to shout back at him about how his door still isn't locked, but a feeling stops her. If that wailing was something bad, you should be quick about it. Litleo's lock can wait.

For the third time that morning, her jaw clicks shut. Okay, fine. But after this, I need to find a good locksmith and a place that sells grease. If I'm going to live in that house over there, the front door needs to work.

Task set, ma'am. A feeling replies. Now get to detecting, detective.

With that line of thought complete, she nods to herself, looks down both ways on the street, then walks back to the more central part of Treasure Town.

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Absol didn't think she'd start her morning like this.

She's not an early riser by nature - most Dark types aren't, most of them being nocturnal - but work doesn't wait for those who sleep, and sleep has never been easy for her. So, when she woke up that morning with the night sky still over her, she decided to head the rest of the way to Treasure Town. By her estimation and experience, she's only an hour walk to it, but last evening she felt like one more night under the stars was what she needed before dealing with the pokémon of this Town.

Seeing how poorly she slept, it was debatable on whether it was worth it or not.

Regardless, Absol did so. She got up sometime before the sun rose, stretched, had something to eat she packed, then spent about an hour walking in the dark of early morning to Treasure Town. Because it was so early, almost nobody was around to see her, but it's something she preferred: she's only been here a pawful of times, and the people here are… odd. There's a saying, back at the Clefable Guild, that the Town is all sunshine and smiles until something bad happens, then it's like a Legendary went on a rampage through town, tearing apart buildings and hurting innocent pokémon.

Of course, Clefable herself blames the Wigglytuff Guild for that. Inter-Guild politics wasn't something Absol put any money on, so she took it with a grain of salt.

Sadly, it was halfway true. The people almost feel too nice, sometimes. It itches at her instincts like no other, and being hailed as a pokémon who is said to sense natural disasters (not really, in her opinion) it irks her.

So, naturally, she felt an impending sense of doom as she got closer to the public board that the Wigglytuff Guild operates.

At first, she thought she had a really rough night of sleep. It was true enough, and part of her curses her poor sleeping habits. Then, as she passed a crossroads, she swears she had to look to her left to see something. The sensation was so odd that, for once, she decided to entertain this feeling.

Looking down the other dirt path, she looks at the bare hints of morning light giving her enough illumination to work with to show… a crowd. Moving around a single spot, but not exactly in that one spot. It's like a group of campers sitting around a campfire, but with no fire. It's hard to tell, given… well, poor eyesight and bad lighting.

She's heavily aware of the irony that implies, and just as heavily hates pokémon pointing that out.

Then one of them, by the shape of them it must be a geodude, starts floating up the street towards her. Then, after stopping for a moment, starts floating much faster towards her. As the floating rock pokémon gets closer to her, she can see its face: a grim, determined look directed somewhere behind her. Glazing behind her, she can see the stairs heading up to the Wigglytuff Guild.

Steeling herself, she shakes off any sign of fatigue and stands in a way that isn't exactly in front of the geodude, but still noticeable, and uses The Tone. "I'm an Explorer; what happened?"

The geodude comes to a sudden halt, rotating to look at her with the same stony expression. Vaguely, she can see its exterior seems to be smoother than usual. Rock Polish. "Are you?"

Her firm voice turns to steel. "Yes. Freelancer." She lifts up a paw and taps a claw against her shoulder strap carrying the bag, a light tink sound of claw on metal. Her badge.

After a moment to glance down, it nods. "There has been a murder. Patrat died sometime in the night, neck sliced open."

Taking in the words without another thought, she lets experience do the talking for her. She nods. "Keep going to the Guild, let them know what happened, and…" She thinks for a moment. "Tell them to send someone who's comfortable working with the dead; someone needs to move the corpse."

If the words seem crude at all, Geodude doesn't show it. Probably because it's kind isn't known to be very expressive, but still. With a nod, Geodude speeds off, starting to float up the steps to the Guild. With that done, Absol starts to walk down the street to the scene of the murder.

When she arrived, most of the collection of pokémon had given the scene more space, more than half leaving to try and not be near a dead body. It makes sense: from what she knows of this town, the most disastrous thing to happen in this place was property damage, and the durability of pokémon tends to make that a minor inconvenience for about two weeks. Someone dying is usually an occurrence lending to old age, and even that is incredibly rare. There was a report of the first public execution in over two decades a few years back, but that involved a Shadow Pokémon so Absol wouldn't count it.

Now, a murder on the other paw, is something else entirely. The pokémon around here are just too… soft. They don't want this kind of peace to be shattered, so they wander off and away from their broken peace and try to be normal. There just aren't any murderers in Treasure Town, in their eyes.

Shaking off those thoughts, she notices that the feeling of doom hasn't gone away. Like an itch at the back of her skull, almost. Not terrible, but…

She ignores it, looking towards the body. Just like what the floating rock pokémon had said, the cadaver is a patrat, with a large cut right at his neck. The blood had started to coagulate, despite the volume that had poured out of his neck, so the killing hadn't happened within the past few minutes. Perhaps sometime earlier, in the middle of the night? But if that was true, then the body must've been discovered much earlier than that: it was lying in the middle of the road, soaking the dirt around it and turning it a muddy red color-

And then all at once, her headache went away. It was something like a dull roar in her ears suddenly being silenced, without the sound being involved in the first place. Absol almost didn't know why her sense cut off so quickly, but if she knows one thing about it, it's not supposed to do that.

"Well that sucks."

Absol flinches, looking next to her to see whoever snuck up on her.

Then she stares at what is standing next to her.

From the poor coloration of the morning light, she sees what almost looks like a zorua standing next to her, staring at the body with sad eyes. Of course, after looking at it for more than a second, the difference becomes obvious. For one, she's never met - or heard, even - of a zorua with white fur, of all things, with their red coloration seemingly stretched out and waving in the air like wisps of smoke. She'd call them a different pokémon altogether, if the general shape of it was exactly like a zorua but fluffier.

Especially the neck fluff. Why does a zorua need so much?

Then, after the third second passes looking at the strange pokémon her senses kick back in. "Who are you?"

"Good question." The zorua-like answers automatically, voice noticeably husky. She looks at Absol, then slowly looks up to her face. She's about half the size of Absol. "...you're tall. What are you?"

Slowly, Absol blinks. She's almost thankful that her face is usually blank all the time. "Absol. And you?"

"Zorua. Maybe." Her head cocks to the side. "That's actually a matter of debate, at the moment. Zorua seems to fit me the best, but nobody really knows. I'd give a name, but I'm out of luck on that, too."

"...right." Absol says slowly. She really appreciates her own face, right then. "Is there a reason you approached the dead body?"

Zorua shrugged. "I wanted to know what the commotion was all about." She pointed further down a street, this one seemingly abandoned. "I was down there when I heard some kind of mournful wailing. I guess dead bodies do that to people." The fox then looks back to the body, continuing to - as Absol now realizes - examine it.

Deciding that this weird pokémon has had enough fun for the day, Absol stands up straighter. "If you're this detached from the crime, then I suggest you either answer some questions or leave: I called for another Explorer to assist in this investigation."

Zorua's ears perk up, turning back to Absol. "Investigation? I can help with that!" Despite the excited voice, her eyes still seem to look tired. Perhaps another quirk about her… strangeness?

She shakes her head. "The most you can do is help answer some questions. Do you know who Patrat was?"

Zorua tilts her head to the side, then looks back to the corpse. "Maybe? I haven't been in town long, so I don't know if there are any other patrats around."

"You're not local?"

"No. I showed up not long ago, around…" She thinks about it. "Two days ago, around late afternoon? I didn't go directly into town until yesterday morning, though. Although…"

When she doesn't finish, Absol clears her throat. "'Although', what?"

"I did see a patrat." She shakes her head. "Only in passing. Shinx was leading me to the Guild building for something, when I saw one looking at me like I killed their mother. I didn't recognize them, though." Under her breath, she mutters "I'm pretty sure they were racist. Some kid told me that people don't like zoruas for some reason."

Absol frowns. "You don't seem too bothered by that fact." After a moment, she adds "And sorry. On the bright side, if it is the same patrat, that's one less bigot to worry about."

Zorua flashes her teeth and snickers. "Yeah, fuck 'im. If this is the same one. As for why I'm not too bothered…" She shrugs. "I don't know how to feel bothered about it? Maybe the staring does something, but that's probably because I'm a freak."

Yet again, her face saves her from looking too surprised. The delivery is just so… normal. If it wasn't for the life Absol lived, she'd be creeped out by it. Moving on, Absol keeps talking. "Have you seen this patrat anytime after that?"

Zorua shakes her head. "No, not that I know of. I had a pretty busy day yesterday, so I wouldn't know if I passed them by or not."

Absol nods, then glances down the road that Zorua came from. "Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary? Perhaps any particularly violent pokémon moving about last night?"

Zorua shakes her head. "I don't think anybody goes down this road but Litleo. I was camping out in one of the abandoned homes, then visited him before we heard the…"

The small fox trails off, again. She starts looking around the street, methodically looking up, then down to where the exit lies a good few paces from them, then back to the body.

Her head cocks to the other side. "Why are they down here?"

Absol raises a brow. "What makes you ask that?"

Zorua raises a paw to gesture around them. "Nobody lived down here but Litleo, and I'm only here because I've got nowhere else to stay in town. It's practically abandoned, this neighborhood." Her wildly moving paw then points at the dead body. "So why is Tyler Treasure here in a place nobody goes, anyways?"

Absol blinks. That's… a fair point to make. And a weird moniker to give the deceased, but still. However… "How do you know nobody goes down there? Didn't you just arrive yesterday?"

"Litleo told me. I spent half the day with him after Shinx brought me to the Guild for something. He said that's the whole reason he stays down there, so he can have some space to himself."

Absol nods, taking in the reason. "Okay. Anything else that you think might be useful to know?"

"Uh, yeah?" She looks back at Absol. "Me."

"...you."

"Yup." She grins. "I'm a Detective, kind of a big deal."

"...okay. What does that mean for me?"

Now it's the fox's turn to blink at her. "It means I can help solve this murder, of course!"

"No."

The rebuttal, said as flatly and with as much no-nonsense added to it, makes Zorua's ears fall. "Aw, why not? I'm meant to do this sort of thing."

"Okay, here's a question for you." Absol sits, then gives Zorua The Look. "Are you an Explorer?"

"What, like a Guild member? Not that I know of."

"It's a yes or no question."

Zorua does another one of those weird pauses, where she seems to be listening to something else, then nods. "Yes."

Absol gives the fox a flat look. "You just contradicted yourself."

"Actually," She sits down and holds up a paw. "I didn't. I said I was trained to do this sort of thing, which implies I must have gotten that from, say, a Guild. I prefer being called a Detective, though."

Absol starts to get another headache, but for a much more normal reason. This zorua - if it even is one - is wasting her time, and it's beyond obvious that there's something going on with her. That, and it's painfully obvious that she isn't an Explorer, based on what she's claimed. There is a middle ground for this sort of thing, but those kinds of pokémon are the type who are strong, but very untrained in being an Explorer. Absol does not need any muscle, she is capable, so there's no need for a tag-along that will get in her way. But saying that to Zorua's face wasn't her way of doing things, by-the-book as Absol is.

Thankfully, there was an easy way to fix that. "Okay, if you're an Explorer, then-"

----------------------------------------

For all the things that Zorua was expecting to find when she went down the street, she wasn't expecting a murder scene. Now, it wasn't to say that it didn't make sense: a terrified wail is fitting for someone finding a dead body lying in the middle of the street. It certainly made her day a- no, her life a lot more interesting, waking up from nothing and waltzing right into a crime scene a day and a half later.

Of course, her feelings practically begged her to go and take a look at everything. She agreed easily: it's what a Detective would do, after all.

Then things sort of devolved from there when she started talking to the white creature - Absol - she somehow walked up next to and didn't notice. Absol is… different. In more ways than one. For one, she's easily twice her size, making her feel small. The second was that she has a fucking sword for a tail, along with a curved, sickle-like blade coming from the side of her head. The red eyes seemed to paint an intimidating feature, which was reinforced by the no-nonsense attitude that she puts forth.

Which… wasn't as blank as Zorua thought it to be, thanks to a tip or two from a feeling.

Zorua will get one such tip in a moment.

Absol also owns one of those swanky shoulder bags that she saw some of the Wigglytuff Guild members wear, if different in design. Zorua's almost jealous.

Then there were the questions, which was a very familiar thing, but in reverse. She answered the best she could, but every now and then her eyes would look back to the deceased. The rodent lay down on the street, back to the ground, face-up, with a crimson smile showing his opened neck. Zorua has a feeling that this could, perchance, be the same Patrat that was glaring at her when she entered the town for the first time, but… Well, it could be anyone. The fact that names are so hidden makes this hard, especially later on when she has to figure out the difference between one type of pokémon, then another of the same species. Identification just became that much harder, especially when it came to why this particular patrat was out and about at night, near an abandoned neighborhood.

Then Absol started getting testy with her credentials of being a Detective. Zorua tried to keep telling her that she is, in fact, very good at figuring things out, but apparently you need to be an "Explorer" for someone to take you seriously.

As one feeling told her, First money, now titles? Nobody can win around here without something to their name. It's worse that you don't even know your name, to boot.

Regardless, she wanted to impress upon Absol that she was, in fact, good at noticing things.

Then another feeling piped up. There's a glint in her eye, right after that last sigh. She knows something, and she's probably going to tell you.

And then another. You have a bad feeling about this.

"-may I see your badge?"

Zorua blinks. "Oh, right, badges are a thing. Um," She starts to pat herself down, then stops when she realizes she doesn't have anything to put a badge into. "I don't have pockets."

"...I can see that." Absol says dryly.

As a last resort, she vigorously shakes herself out, hoping that it's somehow hiding inside her fur- maybe her mane? After a full drying cycle that lasted ten seconds, she looked around her to see if anything fell out.

Nothing. Nothing, except that her fur is now poofed out more than usual.

Uh oh.

You can say that again.

Uh oh. It repeats. Where did you put your badge? Cops are supposed to have badges. Good cops always know where their badges are!

"Uh." She looks back to Absol, who is still staring at her - if a bit surprised by you setting your body to 'tumble dry' - and waiting. "Listen."

"Yes?"

"The badge tends to be, you know… ugly."

"...strange opinion, but okay. And?"

"Look girl, you know, like, yeah."

"Does that mean you have your badge?"

She feels The Expression start to crawl back onto her face. She tries to fight it, but it just makes her face twitch awkwardly before doing it anyway. "I definitely own a badge."

Somehow, Absol's face becomes more admonishing. "So then I can see this badge?"

Her voice is small. "...no?"

The blade-dog's eyes narrow. "And why is that?"

"I, uh… don't have my badge." She ends in a whisper.

Apparently, it was too quiet. "What was that?"

Louder, she repeats herself. "I don't have my badge." Sitting down, she holds up her paws in a gesture to make Absol wait. "B-but I know I have one, it's just that I lost it! It wasn't on me when I woke up a couple of days ago."

Outwardly, Absol gives her one, slow blink. Inwardly…

She's curious about your words, but not curious enough to want an elaboration.

After a moment passes, Absol nods. "Okay, that is not good. If you want a replacement, you should check in with the Guild that you started with. Which Guild do you affiliate with?"

That wasn't a question that Zorua wanted to hear. Of all the questions to ask, she really didn't want ones that are both important and she has no clue to answer. Regardless, she tries to think of a Guild that would work. She knows the Wigglytuff Guild, but lying to Absol about being part of that Guild, then having the other member she called to show up would be a problem. But what other Guilds does she know?

Precinct 41.

(A Place To Call Home When All Hope Is Gone.)

A sudden, shuddering breath leaves her lips. Is it her, or did it get colder? What's that?

It's the first spark of a place you know, from your past. It answers.

Figuring she has no other answer to give that won't immediately bite her in the ass, she shakes the shivers off of her and looks Absol in the eyes. "Precinct 41."

A mild look of confusion crosses her face. "'Precinct 41'? I haven't heard of a Guild calling itself that." Her brows furrow. "Where is that, if I may ask?"

Avoid the question. A feeling says. You don't have time to get into your 'situation' if there's a murderer on the loose.

Now it's Zorua's turn to frown at Absol. "I don't have time to explain that. We still have a killer to catch, and the faster we look at the body instead of dealing with bureaucracy, the better chance we have of catching them."

Absol doesn't say anything for a few long seconds, looking over Zorua. Whatever she is thinking now, not even a feeling could tell her. She stares back at the taller pokémon, trying to impress a certain seriousness through looks alone.

Absol nods once. "You're right, we should deal with the body first. Forgive my questions; I want to be thorough when it comes to those I work with." Zorua tries not to sigh in relief as Absol turns back to the patrat. "So far, I've found that the death must be recent: at least sometime around midnight, maybe earlier. It can't have been too recent, because the blood has had time to dry."

Looking over herself, Zorua checks off everything that Absol stated and nods. "I see that. Now…" She trails off, thinking of something normal to point out. "No bags on-" A quick glance down. "His body. I usually see some people going about with a way to carry poké; is it common for someone to go out without one?"

Absol shrugs. "It's not unusual for one to leave their money at home, if they aren't going to shop for anything. However, he could also have had a pouch on him and the killer took it from him."

"Ah, mugging," Zorua sighs wistfully. "Classic way to die."

A shake of the head from the blade dog. "I wouldn't put my money on it. Most outlaws I've dealt with tend to use terror tactics to take someone's belongings. Even then, if it ever comes to violence it usually ends with some small cuts, burns, or bruises. Not this." She sends a frown of distaste at the corpse.

To express danger is usually enough to force someone to listen to you. A feeling says. A fragile barrier to some, but a barrier nonetheless.

Zorua clicks her tongue. "I guess that makes sense. Not a lot of shopping to do at night, or something."

Absol walks around her, flashing a barely noticeable look at her. "Or… I could be wrong. He could have a prideful streak and that led to his death. It's too early to tell."

"Point." Zorua goes back to looking over the body. "There… hm."

Absol glances at her. "What is it?"

She doesn't answer, looking him down from head to toe. For some reason, there's a lot of oddities when it comes to this patrat. Here's a corpse, lying in the middle of the road, with his throat sliced open and blood leaking out into the soft earth around him. The flow has long stopped, with no heartbeat to keep pumping blood, so there's just a sticky mess left around his collar, neck (obviously) and chin. But everywhere else looks perfectly fine.

A bit too fine. A feeling says in a conspicuous way. Even his paws are too clean. The man liked his hygiene.

Another clue to what this person used to be in hand, she takes a step closer to Absol and nudges her, then points at the paws on his arms. "Clean hands. I think he was a clean freak."

Absol tilts her head slightly. "That's an odd thing to point out. How can you tell he likes to be clean by looking at his paws?"

"It's just a thing… well," She looks him back over. "Maybe it's not a hygienic reason why I noticed that. It's just that the whole picture seems a bit… off."

"Well, it is a dead body in the middle of a peaceful town. That can be considered quite 'off'."

Zorua feels a frown tug at her face, looking down at the body. It can't be that, I already pointed that out to myself and Absol by saying he seemed out of place being on this street. If it's not that, then what?

Check his claws.

She glances down at the paws again, then leans towards Absol. "Can I touch him?"

"What?" Absol looks down at her. "Why do you want to touch him?"

"I need to check his paws."

Other than a slight narrowing of her eyes, Absol nods a silent agreement. With no further commentary from a feeling, she takes one more step closer to the patrat and reaches out a paw. The first thing she does is, oddly enough, feel for a pulse. She knows he's dead, but it never hurts to check.

No pulse. A feeling tells her. He no longer vibes with this universe.

Lifting away from his wrist, she slides it down to the paw and gently flips it over. The paw itself seems oddly dexterous, with two 'fingers' and an opposable thumb: a hand, then. The fingers and thumb are tipped with two nubby claws, which could scratch someone if he was to dig them in hard enough, but a simple graze would be near impossible. Just like she observed before, they are immaculate, with only the signs of the dirt just below her dirtying them.

Then a feeling slams into her. There are no defensive wounds. There aren't even any signs of blood from him attempting to staunch the mortal laceration to his neck.

She feels another urge to chew on something, so she settles on her lip. He didn't try to stop the bleeding? I'm pretty sure someone would panic if their throat was slit.

The evidence suggests otherwise. The feeling counters. He didn't struggle with his death. I would claim suicide, but even suicide victims tend to regret death in their final moments.

What could that mean?

Well… The feeling drags out. There is a mild possibility that the laceration is a cover-up. He could have been killed elsewhere, perhaps in a way you haven't observed yet, then dumped here and his throat slashed. But seeing how freely the blood pooled, he was most certainly pumping blood still as he died.

She does one final bite to her lip - which makes her flinch, thanks to her sharp canines - then steps away from the patrat. "No defensive wounds. No blood on his hands from trying to stop the bleeding, either."

Absol has a look of mild surprise. It's a lot more than 'mild', but her face isn't very expressive. "Nothing at all?"

"Nada." She confirms. "What I'm concerned about is what that means. I want to discount suicide, mostly because the death is a bit too clean for that and a lack of a murder weapon."

Absol starts to nod in agreement, then pauses. "A weapon? Why do you think a weapon did this?"

"Well how else are you going to get a cut this clean," She gestures to the wound. "It's not like someone cast a 'spell of neck splitting' or something."

There is a moment where Absol just stares at her.

She's deciding whether you're serious or not.

When the silence becomes uncomfortable, she frowns. "What?"

"Zorua," Absol says calmly. "There are plenty of pokémon with sharp, blade-like protrusions or appendages."

Zorua blinks, then flicks her eyes up to the side of Absol's head. She stares at the sickle shaped blade. "Oh."

Did… did Absol do this? She asks herself?

Thankfully, a feeling comes to the rescue. No. Based on the size of the blade, compared to the much smaller body of the patrat, she has a much higher chance of decapitating the rodent rather than just that cut. On top of that, the blood would have stained all of that white fur, and the condition of said fur looks to be a couple of days since it has last seen a bath.

Another feeling decides to put in their own two cents. Not like you're much better; you haven't cleaned yourself since you woke up, and the salt isn't doing you any favors, stinky girl.

Shut up, I'll take a bath later. Out loud, she says "So we're looking for someone who has swords for arms?"

A breath of air leaves Absol's nose suddenly. There's crow's feet around her eyes. "If only it was that easy, Zorua." She sobers up, face a touch more serious. "There are also a number of pokémon who can use moves that can cut things. 'Cut' is one such move - aptly named - and others that also vary in type. Was there any sign of burning around the wound?"

She doesn't bother glancing back. "No."

"Then we can rule out types that can do more than just cut, like Fire or Poison." After a pause, she looks Zorua head on. "Why did you not think of this right away, if I may ask?"

Before she could think of how to feel about that statement, a feeling barges in. Whatever you do, don't tell the truth.

…I feel like the answer's obvious, but why?

You've already told her that you're an Explorer. Explorers are probably proficient in these 'moves', so it's best to not draw attention to you not knowing any.

Okay, good idea- She starts to think.

Or. Another feeling interrupts. You could tell… some of it.

When no other feeling gives any input, she flicks her ears. I'm listening.

You're a zorua that is different from the other ones, correct? So, instead of bringing to light your utter lack of memories and all moves associated with them, how about you mention the reason you know none by your physical condition.

Oo, better idea. I'll try that.

She feels herself chewing on her lip again, so she stops that and focuses back on Absol. "So. That might have something to do with my… condition."

A light furrow of Absol's brows. "Condition? Are you well?"

"Well enough as is, yeah, but," She fakes a fidget. "I kind of am bad at moves."

"How bad?"

"I can't do any."

Absol's eyes widened. Lots of surprise there. "You-" She stops herself, taking a moment to process what Zorua said. "What does that have to do with not thinking of moves first?"

She lets out a nervous chuckle. "That was my fault: I tend to forget that other people have an easier time doing literally anything else because of moves. When you can't do what others do, you find a way to get around it." She tries to stand taller on all four legs. "It's why I'm such a good detective: I just got better at being sharper than everyone else, mentally speaking."

Absol takes a moment to digest this information, then nods. "That is odd, I have to admit, but your skills so far are showing to be a boon. I apologize for bringing it up."

"No need," She smiles, turning back to the body to hide the smugness in it. "Let's just focus on the body, alright?"

"Alright." Absol turns with her, looking down. "So, a clean cut with no visible signs of other damage leans towards a more physical attack. That does narrow down our options, but there's still a staggering amount of types to look for. I would keep that note further back on our list of possible descriptions for suspects. Now, you were mentioning something about…" She tilts her head. "What was it again?"

"Oh, right!" Zorua continues her earlier thought. "I was saying it couldn't be suicide, because even then he would've struggled with all of that blood leaking into his lungs. At least he would've coughed some of it up, but there's no sign of any flecks of blood anywhere but where it leaked out of the wound."

Absol glances back, but her eyes don't linger much around the body. Perhaps her eyesight makes it a moot point. "This is a strange death, if what you say is true. Is there any other injuries around his head that could indicate he was knocked unconscious, first?"

Zorua dives back into poking around the dead patrat. This time, she has to lift up his head with one paw and look around his head closely. Over the next minute, she carefully scanned over the skin under the fur, checking for bruising, then another two to see if a harder impact fractured his skull.

You feel nothing, other than a whole rodent head. A feeling tells her.

She shakes her head. "Nothing." With that done, she sets the head back down. When she looks back over the body from right over him, she sees that a bit more blood has been massaged out of his throat, trickling down his blood-caked neck and to the ground.

Smells like copper. You can almost taste it on your tongue. Saliva starts to collect at the scent.

This isn't food, it's just a maybe-racist. She frowns at her own thoughts, looking into the brown rodent's eyes. They're an odd red color, with an amber ring for an iris and the same red for the iris. The eyes are starting to look hazy from their owner's death, staring off to the side. Who are you, Patrat?

"I'm gone."

Amber-ringed red eyes swivel to look at her, the mouth just barely moving enough to get two words out that sound like they were chewed through a mouth full of gravel. The eyes do not blink when their master suddenly answers a question that's inside her own mind.

Zorua most certainly did not scream.