Archive of Our Own

Silver Coast Stories
By WildSnivy

Case III: A Sense of Duty

Loge kicked the door to the bathroom open as he continued his bathtime caterwaul. He waltzed across the hardwood floors and down the stairs, holding a white towel around his lower half but still managing to drip a water trail behind him. “Aaaaand here we shall face our fears! At the edge of the deepest blackest night! Knowing it’s our time to chase the liiiiiiiiiiiiiight!”

     Emilia Reptilia peered down at her water glass and noticed a crack she could have sworn was not there a minute ago. “I don’t suppose you want to sing any of Ember’s other hits?” she inquired as she continued drafting an article for the Silver Coast Gazette’s Sunday edition.

     “That was her best rendition ever! You were right there!” the Zoroark exclaimed. “There were the lights, and the psychic fireworks, and Ember too of course, and that violin caught fire! You saw that! Fire! And she was doing it all by herself! Uh, I mean, the crowd was helping by proxy but still!”

     The Salazzle could not help but smile a bit, like she was watching a soccer hooligan recount one of his team’s best matches. “Yeah, it was pretty fun, wasn’t it?”

     “Best concert I’ve ever been to! Well, until the next one happens. And now we know she can sell out Limestone! We’ll get in early and find front row seats again and...”

     “Before all of that, could you check the mail for me please?” Emilia cut in. “My first paycheck from the Gazette should have come in by now.”

     “I’m on it!” the Zoroark energetically replied as he strolled out the front door of his home. He dried his mane off with the towel as he approached the mailbox at the end of the short stone path, opened it, and removed its contents: a set of coupons for Kecleon’s General Goods and Sundries, a professional-looking correspondence from the Silver Coast Gazette addressed to Emilia, a newsprint advertisement from what seemed to be a pair of Granbull injury lawyers, and finally...

     Loge brought the final piece of mail closer to make sure he was reading the return address correctly. It was from 17 Lone Tree Road in Oaksbane.

     His eyes widened and he hesitantly opened the letter up.

Dear Logan,

     How have you been? It feels like it’s been ages since we last heard from you. You really ought to write us more often!

     The lumber mill has been doing fantastic as always. Moving it closer to Keystone City has shown to be an excellent decision. Your father has been landing more contracts than he knows what to do with, and in fact he’s finished making a deal to help Silver Coast add a new wing to the natural history museum!

     Construction should start in a few days, and we’re both excited to come by this weekend and see how it shapes up. In fact, we decided it would be the perfect opportunity to come visit the old house and see what our little bathbomb has gotten up to. I hope you’ve been taking good care of it.

     How is work going for you? Say hi to Kit for us and we’ll let you know how our plans shape up!

     Love, Mom

“Sorry, bathbomb?” Emilia blinked as she read the letter.

     “Please don’t ask,” Loge groaned. He was reclined on the sofa, his towel draped over his face.

     “You know I’m going to,” Emilia smirked. “For multiple reasons.”

     The Zoroark sighed. “It was the first illusion I ever did. My parents were trying to get me into the tub, I slipped on the edge, I fell in and a giant explosion of glitter came out. The end. Move it along.”

     Emilia snickered. “Whatever you say. Bathbomb.”

     Loge picked up a loose end of the towel and glared at her intensely. “Do that again and I will start charging you rent. Roomie.”

     “Sorry, sorry, couldn’t help myself,” the Salazzle giggled as she put the note back on the table and reclined in her chair, arms crossed. “But that explains where all your money comes from. You’re a trust fund Zorua, aren’t you?”

     “Don’t rub it in, please. I know I’m a mooch,” Loge sighed as he let the towel limply flop back over his eyes. “This is why I don’t like talking with them.”

     “You gonna reply? It looks like they’re expecting one.”

     “What am I going to say? I can’t tell them I don’t have a job yet,” Loge lamented. “But I can’t really lie to them either. My dad will sniff it out on the spot.”

     “Well, you do what I do,” Emilia replied, encouragingly. “Tell them what you’re going to do about it. You know, let them know there’s a problem but you’re fixing it. That will help reassure them. Got me out of hot water more times than I can count with my editors.”

     Loge nodded from under the towel. “Right...okay, so what if I say something like...”

Hi Ma!

     I got a new roommate in the house. Her name’s Emilia and she’s a reporter for the Gazette. Met her while helping Kit out on one of his cases. He’s been doing really well, and so has Ember. She sold out a crowd at Limestone Amphitheater last weekend. It was really fun!

     On the job front, I haven’t been able to find much in the way of stable work. I’ve been looking for job postings over the last couple of weeks though. If you and Pops have taught me anything, you don’t need all the jobs, just one! I’ve been putting in applications everywhere I can and will let you know what I find.

     I’ll make sure to introduce you to Emilia when you come by. Love you lots! ~Loge

Suppertime came and went, and Loge noticed the Pelipper postman make one last stop at his house’s mailbox. He pretended not to notice and started whistling as he cleaned the dishes.

     Emilia set down the ceramic plates next to the washing basin and peered out the window just in time to see the Pelipper take off. “You going to get that?” she asked after a minute.

     “Nah, probably junk mail,” he singsongingly replied, a peacefully happy expression on his face.

     “It could be the parents?”

     “It could also not be.”

     Emilia blinked. “Why does that sound like an argument I would make?”

     “Which means I’m completely correct and there’s nothing for me in that box,” he concluded as he continued serenely drying off a pot.

     The Salazzle’s tongue flipped in and out of her mouth a few times, then she turned for the door. “I’m gonna see if they call you bathbomb again.”

     Loge’s eyes snapped open. “Get back here!” he yelled at his roommate as he chased her with a wet towel.

Dear Logan,

     Thanks for getting back to us! Sounds like you’ve had a fun weekend as well. We’d be delighted to meet Emilia when we come by. You should tell us sooner about news like that. Regardless, we’re so happy that you...

“FOUND A GIRLFRIEND?!” the two of them yelled in tandem. They looked at each other for a moment as they read that, blushed, then Loge coughed and continued reading.

Which brings me to one of the more pressing pieces of news on our end. Your father insisted on writing this letter himself, but I thought it best you heard this from me and not him. He has a way of being too direct for his own good.

Loge gulped nervously. “I don’t like the way this is going.”

     “It could still be good news?” Emilia tried to calm his nerves.

     “My dad doesn’t really...” Instead of finishing that sentence, Loge coughed again and pressed on.

You of course know that your father and I care about you very much and want you to succeed in whatever you pursue. We want to support you however we can to that end as well. Unfortunately, after reading your latest note, your father is of the mind that perhaps leaving you behind in Silver Coast was not the best decision we made as a family. As you have been living off the family fortune for the past while and haven’t been able to contribute meaningfully to your own future since (not for lack of trying), he has been discussing selling the old house and taking you back to Oaksbane to help run the lumber mill with us.

Emilia’s tail sprung up straight.

     Loge said nothing, and just stared at the note blankly. “W...why though...I thought that the thing we made would...you said that...”

     “H-hold on, the note’s not completely done,” Emilia stammered, and picked up where the Zoroark left off.

While I personally don’t think that’s a bad idea, I am aware you have a lot of your life in Silver Coast and understand if you are unwilling to give it up. To that end, I think the best way to help your father change his mind would be to show him that you found a well-paying job before we come to see you this weekend. With all of the applications you’ve been submitting, I’m certain you’ll have something to show him before then.

     I’ve sent you a little something to help you stand out in interviews alongside this letter; hopefully they arrive together or at least close enough. Please let me know if you need any extra help. I have your back!

     Love, Mom

The two of them looked over at the long, thin box they brought in along with the letter. Loge picked it up and quickly sniffed it over.

     “Is that really needed?” Emilia curiously asked.

     “They’re my parents, but we’re still Zoroarks, so...”

     “Never mind. What do you think it is?”

     Loge examined the box and gave it a small shake. “It’s long, flat, contents are soft...best case, it’s a sub sandwich.”

     “And what’s worst case?”

     “Probably clothes or something.” Loge opened the end of the box and reached inside. His ears drooped a moment later. “Aw...”

     “Worst case?” Emilia asked with a consoling smile as she patted the Zoroark’s back.

     “Yeah,” Loge sighed as he extracted a black and red striped necktie from the box. “It’s not even good clothes.”

     “She means well by it,” the Salazzle said as she inspected the tie. “Looks like it’s a good quality one at least. Blends in well with your fur.”

     “It’s so...tacky though,” Loge protested. “Seriously, who would wear something like this on the regular around here?”

Titus the Mightyena made a small adjustment to the navy blue tie loosely hanging around his neck and pushed the door to the Silver Coast Police Department. He barely made two steps into the stonework building before the cheers and claps started trickling in, startling him a little.

     “Care for some breakfast, Sargento?” said a Hawlucha as he jogged over with a pair of donuts in his hands.

     Titus gave him a reserved smile and continued inside. “My promotion isn’t until tomorrow, Javi,” he pointed out.

     “Oh potato potahto,” Javi laughed back. “When the chief announces something like that, it might as well be official! That tattoo’s gonna need an update though.” He pointed at the pair of black chevrons adorning his partner’s front right leg.

     “Thanks, but I don’t like counting my Torchics before they hatch. Anything can happen before then.”

     “...so I shouldn’t tell you about the party then,” Javi reluctantly replied.

     “What party?” Titus inquisitively asked as he approached his desk.

     Javi set Titus’ donut down on it, pulled over a chair from a neighboring desk, and sat on it backwards, his arms resting over the backrest. “Are you gonna be mad?”

     “Why would I be mad?”

     “I’m just saying, amigo, I’m gonna tell you that we’re organizing a promotion fiesta for you, you’re gonna say that we should have waited until after the promotion proper, I’m gonna tell you what we planned for it and...”

     “Wait, wait, wait, stop,” the Mightyena interrupted as flipped his bag onto his desk and slid himself out from under its strap. “Who’s ‘we’ here?”

     The Hawlucha blankly munched his donut before saying, “Sin comentarios.”

     Titus’ eyes went wide. “Oh, Javi, please don’t tell me you got the whole department in on this...”

     “Not the whole department, Titus. Just Major Crimes, Forensics, boat patrol, foot patrol, aviation, the chief...”

     He saw the Mightyena staring back at him, unamused.

     “¿Sorpresa?” Javi sheepishly smiled.

     “Look, it’s not that I don’t like the thought, but the chief of all people? Did you really sucker him into this?”

     “No, actually,” Javi replied. “Last I heard he’s chatting up the Minster of Finance. They’re organizing the main event.”

     “What main event?”

     “So get this,” the Hawlucha explained as he used a napkin on his mouth. “It’s a sort of mock murder mystery sort of thing, okay?”

     “Oooookaaaay...” Titus hesitantly replied. “Not really sure what that means but...”

     “Yeah, you and me both,” Javi laughed. “But they’re serious about it. Riley’s gotten commissioned to put together some ‘evidence,’ heck, the captain’s offered to cover the night shift. Heard the chief’s putting up some stuff for a prize pool as well.”

     Titus’ ears perked as he took a bite out of his breakfast. “Prize pool, eh? What’s going in it?”

     Javi shrugged. “Not sure. Either way, they figured the best place to give this whole thing a test run would be at the party. They got actors, catering, the whole shebang.”

     “Interesting...” the Mightyena mused to himself. “...can I run a silly idea past you?”

     Javi snickered a little. “Those are my favorite kind.”

     “Since this...is a party and everything, would it be too out of place if we had some friends of the station there as well?”

     “Not sure why they’d want to come to a police function of all things but I guess not, no,” the Hawlucha shrugged.

     “Because I remember hearing a story or two from inside Major Crimes about this private eye pretty much solving cases out of thin air. He seems like someone who’d enjoy this.”

     A smirk sneaked its way onto Javi’s face. “Someone who might help Major Crimes win this contest, amigo?”

     “That’s the idea. Though I wasn’t working any of the cases with him on it.”

     Javi tossed the final piece of donut in the air and caught it with his mouth. “I had one a couple months ago! Let me see if I have his address lying around.”

     “Is this cheating, you think?” Titus asked.

     “It’s definitely not in the rules,” Javi grinned as he headed back for his desk. “So probably fine.”

     “If we get disqualified, I’m blaming you for enabling me!” Titus barked.

     “Long as I get credit for helping us win!” Javi laughed in the distance.

Luka walked across the dojo’s stage, sat down on his legs, and bowed slightly. “Good morning, students!”

     “Good morning, Master!” his yellow belt class cheerfully and chorally replied, bowing back in turn.

     “How was everyone’s weekend?”

     The responses were scattered and ranged from “alright” and “not bad” to “great” and even an “awesome” or two.

     “Excellent,” the Lucario beamed. “You might have noticed already, but we have a new student in the class today. He’s been moving up the ranks rather quickly, so you may only see him for a couple classes.”

     The lone, one-eyed Delphox in the room blankly stared at his instructor, a yellow belt tied around his forehead.

     “Everyone, please welcome Kit the Delphox,” Luka introduced nonchalantly but politely and warmly.

     Kit raised a hand in greeting. “Morning,” he said monotonously.

     The rest of the students, almost all of whom were still in grade school, immediately started clamoring, and a few started bombarding him with questions.

     “Are you really this new to martial arts?” the Espurr to his left asked.

     “Technically.”

     “What do you do for a job?” a Teddiursa behind him asked. “It’s something cool, right?”

     “I solve mysteries, if that counts.”

     “What happened to your eye?” a Sprigatito spritely jumped in.

     Luka was about to object to that one, but Kit already had a reply ready. “I sold it to a ghost for untold mystical power.”

     The class was wowed by the response. Luka was not completely sure if that answer was better or worse than the truth, but he chuckled a little regardless and clapped his hands together. “Alright, settle down now. Kit is a special case; he’s simply here to review the fundamentals and then he’s off to the advanced classes. He has many years of psychic experience under his belt, and given time you all might do...”

     “But he’s still just a yellow belt, right?” a rowdy Torchic piped up, grinning smugly at the Delphox. “So that means we should be on equal footing when it comes to skill level!”

     “You clearly weren’t listening to your teacher,” Kit straight facedly replied.

     “Detective, please allow me,” Luka interjected, and turned to the younger student. “He’s not wrong, Toby. Rank doesn’t mean everything in this school, especially for newer students we don’t know much about. Kit might be a black belt for all I know, and if he is, he can certainly demonstrate skills at this level.”

     “But you can say that about anyone!” Toby shouted before grinning at Kit. “He can’t be that tough if he’s still a yellow belt. Like I said, we’re all the same rank for a reason!”

     “Really?” Kit blankly replied. “Sounds like you want a challenge.”

     “And if I win, I want a Captura Orb of Master Luka holding up my wing in victory!” Toby boisterously added.

     “Detective, you don’t have to accept if you...”

     “Done,” Kit placidly accepted. “I promise the bout will be fast. If that’s alright.”

     Luka sighed and walked towards the back of the stage. “Very well. A quick exhibition match to start the day never hurt I suppose. Both to center.”

     Kit and Toby both walked onto the stage and stood in the center of a painted ring on the floor. Two white lines in the center marked the starting positions. Toby ran over to the one closest to Luka, and Kit lined up against him.

     Luka quickly went over the rules. “First to yield or be forced out of the ring is the winner, as usual. I may also call the match early if someone is clearly winning. No reckless or unnecessarily forceful attacks, obey my instructions. Understood?”

     “Of course,” the Delphox nodded. He stood on his marks like he was in line at a coffee shop.

     “Yep!” the Torchic said, readying himself on the line.

     “On my mark then,” the Lucario stated, raising a hand in the air.

     Toby wound up his legs, ready to make a charge at Kit.

     Kit emotionlessly blinked back.

     “Fight!”

     Toby started running full tilt at Kit. He ran, and ran, and ran as fast as his scrawny yellow legs could carry him, his eyes shut tight in pure focus and concentration.

     The rest of the class, plus Kit and Luka, saw Toby running in place and then eventually backwards as the Delphox’s telekinesis slowly scooched the Torchic out of bounds.

     Luka raised a hand. “Boundary. Kit wins.”

     “N-no fair!” Toby chirped. “I don’t have tele...telepho...I can’t move things with my mind!”

     “You challenged me, bud,” Kit shrugged. “Know your enemy, as the saying goes.”

     Toby grumbled to himself as he strutted back to his place. Kit stood up and joined him as Luka cleared his throat. “And with our exhibition match concluded, we can now move onto our lesson for today. We’ll be studying...”

     “...iiiiiiiiit!” someone from outside was screaming as the door to the dojo was wildly flung open and a Zoroark looked from side to side in a borderline panic. His face lit up as he found the individual sitting about two feet above everyone else. “Th-there you are! I need you for...”

     “DO YOU MIND???” everyone else in the dojo yelled back.

     The intruder jumped. “Sorry, sorry! I can wait! Happy punching! Hi Luka!” He slammed the door shut behind him.

     Toby blinked. “Who was that?”

     “No idea,” Kit shrugged.

Loge sat in the sofa where Kit’s clients usually did, next to Emilia. “And that’s where I’m at. I’ve spent the whole day running all over the city looking for work before my parents come over and everyone I talked to is either not hiring or is way out of my league.”

     “It can’t have been that bad,” Luka consoled from across the coffee table. “Maybe there are a few places you haven’t checked yet.”

     “Like Kecleon’s,” Kit suggested as he reentered the room and took his medicine. “Leslie could probably do with a day or two off.”

     “Her uncle’s out on vacation, and he’s the guy who would get say in that,” Loge sighed.

     “...maybe Ember can do something?” the Salazzle chimed in. “She’s going to need an agent someday to help her stay organized and find events for her to play at?”

     “She needs money to pay him first,” Kit replied, sitting back down next to Luka. “Hate to say it, but she’s still a music store worker for the immediate future.”

     Loge started looking around nervously. “Strangers haven’t gotten me anywhere. Uh...Emilia, does the Gazette need a columnist?”

     “What would you write about?”

     “Uh...opinions! Yeah, I have some great opinions.”

     “Like?”

     “I think a lot of people would think about eating the moon if it was actually cheese!”

     The office went quiet. Kit put a hand to his forehead.

     “I’m...sure they’ll let you know if they want you for something,” Emilia politely rejected with a polite grin.

     “Dang it...uh, Luka, do you need a second teacher?”

     “Oh no,” Kit muttered to himself.

     “What? I’m good with kids, and I’m good at getting hit. It’s perfect!”

     “There are more elements to my position than that,” Luka calmly elaborated. “Physical wellness and strength are good and all, but a lot of expertise and knowledge is required as well. For instance, what are the seven chakram and where are they located?”

     Loge thought for a minute. “They were used to seal away The Evil Shadow Monster of Pengo-Pengo a thousand years ago and are lost to mystery?”

     Kit’s face vanished into both of his palms.

     “What are the different belt rank colors, from lowest to highest?”

     The Zoroark put his chin in his hand. “Uhh...red, orange, yellow, green...”

     “That’s a rainbow, Loge...”

     “Fine, an easy one. I know of some Zoroarks that can learn the art of firebreathing. You probably know it as an attack called Flamethrower.”

     Loge’s ears perked. “Ooh, ooh, I’ve heard of this. I’ve got an uncle in The Wetlands that can do that actually!”

     The Lucario nodded. “And how do you think they learned it? Why can they do it and not, say, a Poliwhirl?”

     “He’s afraid of Beedrills and fate let him take the fight to them one day!” Loge confidently snapped off his answer.

     Luka sighed. “Maybe you can help with a demonstration or two, next time I have one. Besides, you need to be licensed for teaching before I can let you start.”

     “I see. Well, if you need someone to get beat up, I’m your guy, Master!” the Zoroark cheerfully replied. “But I need something a bit more permanent...”

     He looked around and locked on the only person in the room he was yet to ask for help from.

     Kit made a small gap between his fingers to peek through.

     “Hey Kit, could I...”

     “No.”

     “Why not?” Loge demanded. “I’ve helped you on plenty of cases already!”

     “Frankly, I just don’t need it. It’s not that the firm isn’t doing well, I don’t usually have enough casework piling up to need someone like that.”

     “But maybe that’s it!” Loge pointed out. “Think about it. I only really show up here normally because I’m bored out of my mind and want to see what you’re up to.”

     “Great start there,” the Delphox commented under his breath.

     “So, if you upgrade from a standard trusty assistant and self-appointed best friend to a premium trusty assistant and self-appointed best friend, and advertise the business a bit more than you currently are, you can take in more clients without any worries of being overworked or stressed on your end. Because if you’re not on the case, I am!” Loge pointed at himself and grinned toothily. “So? What do you think?”

     Kit crossed his arms, pensively tapping his finger.

     Emilia raised a hand. “What if you gave him an audition?”

     Luka cocked his head curiously. “What do you mean? Like a case of his own to work on?”

     “Y-yeah, actually that’s a great idea!” Loge spoke up. “Give me something low profile, not that scary or important, and just see how I do with it! Who knows, maybe I’ll impress you and then you won’t have to pity hire me or anything.”

     “My contracts are already paid for, and moreover my clients sign them because the person working their case is Kit the Delphox specifically,” the detective calmly explained. “The idea is fine I guess, but if we’re doing this, it has to be a new case, and, like you said, something low stakes.”

     “But...that would depend on you getting a new client, right?” the Salazzle quietly asked.

     Kit nodded. “Sorry, but I can’t let you take over an ongoing case without breaching my contract. You understand, right?”

     “Yeah, I get it,” Loge sighed and hung his head. “So the only thing I can really do is hope someone...”

     Loge’s ear perked as he heard the best noise he could have possibly heard. He turned to Emilia excitedly, and saw the Salazzle’s eyes were just as lit up as his were. “Knocks on his door!” they chorally cheered. Loge leaped up from his seat and dashed to the door. “I’ve got it!”

     “Halt!” the Delphox commanded as he stood up.

     Loge relinquished the doorknob and grinned sheepishly at his friend. “Oh, right. You banned me.”

“Corporal Titus the Mightyena,” the police officer introduced himself. “Silver Coast PD, Major Crimes Division.”

     Kit and his three compatriots were either sat down or leaning on the other sofa. “Major Crimes, eh? Is Javi still around?” the Delphox asked as he passed a notebook to Loge.

     “Yes, he’s my partner now,” Titus replied with a reserved smile and a tie adjustment. “He’s actually the guy who directed me to your firm, Mr. Kit.”

     “Kit’s fine, thanks,” he corrected. “Meanwhile if I may introduce...”

     “Uh, Kit?” Loge interrupted as he flipped through the notebook. “Where are all your notes?”

     The Delphox’s eyes narrowed, and he pointed at his own notebook on the coffee table and raised it into the air.

     Loge figured it out after a moment. “Ah, it’s for me, got it,” he said as he flipped to the first page and took the pencil out.

     “Sorry Corporal, I’m doing some on-the-job interviewing today. This is Loge, my prospective assistant,” Kit introduced.

     “And self-appointed best friend!” the Zoroark ebulliently appended.

     Emilia started jotting down some notes of her own. “Can’t forget that part of his title,” she commented.

     Kit covered his eyes again for what felt like the seventeenth time today.

     “I’m assuming you work for the firm as well?” Titus asked the Salazzle.

     “Silver Coast Gazette, actually. And myself in the long term!” she cheerfully replied, a wisp of smoke coming off the tip of her pen. “Emilia Reptilia, journalist, behavioral scientist, author, PR lady, and knower of things!”

     The Mightyena blinked. “That’s...impressive, Miss Reptilia. You might be a good fit for this as well.”

     Emilia’s tongue flipped in and out of her mouth, and she leaned over to Luka. “I don’t like the way he said that,” she whispered.

     “May I ask what brings you to the detective’s office today, Corporal?” the Lucario asked politely.

     “Of course,” Titus nodded. “Normally, since this is a police matter, I can’t discuss it with anyone besides the investigator himself and his direct associates.”

     “I can ask them to leave if you want,” Kit offered.

     Titus shook his head. “I did say, ‘normally.’ I think this time I can make an exception without needing my supervisor.”

     “Well, what’s the case then?” Loge asked.

     Titus smiled warmly and said, “I want you to help me solve a murder.”

     Luka flinched and his eyes went wide.

     Kit’s eyebrow raised.

     Emilia slipped on something and fell onto her back.

     Loge’s pencil lead snapped. “M-m-murder??”

     “Yeah, murder!” Titus repeated, his tail slowly swishing back and forth.

     “Not a real one, presumably,” Kit calmly pointed out.

     “Oh no, of course not,” Titus reassured. “Actually, I should have provided some context first...is she alright?”

     Luka helped a weary Salazzle back to her feet. “She’ll be fine, Corporal. She gets a little excited when she sees a story.”

     “And then I find out it’s not even real...” she disappointedly moped.

     “Yeah, sorry Mr. Cop, but Kit’s Detective Agency And Consulting Office only deals with real mysteries,” Loge sneered. “You know, really big stuff. Real high profile casework with real crimes and real people-ow!” He rubbed the back of his head and glanced over at Kit.

     “Really?” the Delphox chastised.

     “Sorry...”

     “Now apologize to the nice officer and ask him for the full story. And use some tact this time.”

     Loge bashfully got a second pencil out and looked the Mightyena in the eyes. “Forgive my outburst, good sir,” he stated in a very posh high-class accent. “What was all this about context now?”

     “Luka, please end me...” Kit sighed, a hand to his forehead. The Lucario gently patted his shoulder.

     “R-right,” Titus stammered and cleared his throat. “I’m receiving a promotion to sergeant tomorrow, and the department decided to throw a party in my name tonight.”

     “Congratulations!” Emilia cheered as she went back to scribbling in her notepad. “Not a bad beat for an article either! Is there any chance I can sit you down over a coffee and...”

     “Not now!” Kit barked.

     Emilia’s pen flew out of her hand. “Y-yes sir, sorry sir!” she stuttered before catching it again and quietly going back to work.

     The Mightyena chuckled a little. “Flattered, Miss Reptilia, but maybe later. To the point, the chief found some extra funds and he’s putting it towards a side event at the party itself. It is a mock murder mystery from my understanding, and I heard there are prizes up for grabs to whoever can solve it first.”

     “So nobody’s actually dead or anything,” Kit clarified. “It’s just going to be...what, actors?”

     “To my knowledge, yes,” Titus nodded. “I actually got Javi to ask for me. It’s a group called Eva And The Eons. I understand they’re...”

     “They’re really, really cool!” Loge blurted out, then looked around. “...really? You guys never heard of them? They were just The Eons until a few weeks ago?”

     “Nope,” Kit stated.

     “First time,” Luka replied.

     Emilia flipped to a fresh page.

     “Sheesh, where do you people live?” the Zoroark snarked.

     Luka pointed in the general direction of the dojo. Kit pointed at the floor. Emilia pointed at Loge.

     “...fair enough.”

     “They’re an acting guild mostly renowned for putting on shows at private events,” Titus clarified. “Ranges from stage performances to interactive stuff like this, list goes on. Don’t know a ton about them beyond that. Anyway, it looks like they’re going to be staging this whole thing. There’s going to be evidence planted, they’ll be playing as actual suspects, everything is planned out.”

     “Sounds a little hectic,” Luka commented. “But why are you bringing this to us?”

     “Like I said, there’s prize support on offer, and I figured one of the best private eyes in the city deserves a crack at it,” Titus said, grinning at the Delphox. “Plus Major Crimes would be happy to give you a cut if you help us win.”

     “Interesting...” Kit said to himself before getting elbowed by Loge.

     “Hey. Hey Kit. Remember what you were saying about an audition earlier?” he toothily reminded.

     The Delphox stared at him just long enough for the Zoroark to get uncomfortable, then turned back to Titus. “Would the invitation be extended just to me?”

     “I intended to invite you only, but if your firm’s associates are interesting in coming along, I don’t see the harm in it,” Titus offered. “They can play along too if they feel up for it.”

     “I see,” Kit replied. “In that case, Loge here will be assisting Major Crimes in their efforts.”

     Loge’s face lit up like he was a kid going to an amusement park. “Really??”

     “Really,” Kit nodded. “But I’m not going to be helping you personally.”

     “What do you mean?” Titus asked.

     “If it’s all the same to everyone else, I wouldn’t mind trying to work out this mystery by myself. See how far I can get with it. If that’s fine with you of course.”

     “Whatever makes you happy,” Titus replied. “It’s supposed to be a friendly competition in the end. You sure you’ll be fine by yourself though? You’ll be outnumbered after all.”

     Emilia raised a hand. “I’ll go with Kit!”

     Loge jumped. “E-Emilia! How could you?”

     The Salazzle smirked back playfully. “What? Gotta keep the odds balanced. Besides, I always wanted to take a look at his techniques up close and personal!”

     The Delphox was not overly fond of how she said the last part of that sentence, but shrugged anyway. “Alright, if you want to. Luka might be better for helping my trainee out anyway.”

     “I was just about to suggest that,” the Lucario noted as he turned to Loge and bowed. “I look forward to working with you, Not-Detective.”

     “Oh, hahaha, you won’t get to call me that for long,” Loge snapped back as he slipped his pencil and notepad into his mane. “So! When and where’s this party?”

Emilia Reptilia crossed her arms in front of the closed bedroom door. “Loge, come on, I’m sure it doesn’t look that bad.”

     “No!”

     “I told you it looks pretty spiffy already. Besides, you’re dressing to impress, aren’t you?”

     “Why can’t I just impress people the normal way?” the Zoroark protested.

     “It’s a bit of a formal event, everyone’s dressing up,” the Salazzle consoled. “Kit’s looking for a tie for himself too, you know. I got out some makeup and the good scale lotion. I bet Luka has something nice to wear as well...”

     The door swung open and a depressed looking Loge shambled out, the red and black tie done up like he was trying to improvise a ship rigging around his neck.

     Emilia had to suppress a chuckle.

     “And this is why I never dress up. I’m not good at it,” Loge grumbled as he wrestled the tie off of his neck. “I can sell this thing to Leslie, right? Ma won’t notice if I did, right?”

     “Oh, don’t be like that,” Emilia responded as she took the tie in her hands and started knotting it around Loge’s neck. “Everyone sucks until they learn enough to become good at it. Just watch what I’m doing, okay?”

     “Right...” Loge said, clearing his throat. “You, uh...you look nice.”

     “Aw, thank you,” Emilia smiled. “It didn’t take long to do either. It might be a small detail but every bit counts towards something. Kit, Titus, and everyone there will be grateful we put the effort in.”

     “...you think I’ll be able to do this?” Loge muttered.

     Emilia looked right up at him, her striking violet eyes meeting his turquoise gaze directly. “Absolutely. You are one of the most street savvy, intuitive, personable people I’ve met. All of those things go a long way towards detective work, and all three of those are things you do far better than Kit does.”

     Loge blinked and sighed. “I don’t know. Kit’s not perfect, nobody is, but he’s done a lot more than I have with a lot less. He’s got his own business, making money doing stuff he likes doing and is really good at, and I...I’m just a mooch.”

     Emilia finished the knot and patted Loge’s shoulder. “You’re not a mooch, Loge. If you were, you’d still be lying around on the couch downstairs wondering what to make for dinner. This opportunity is here because you put effort into finding and taking it. You’ll do just fine, especially with Master Luka helping.”

     Loge offered up a weak smile in response. “You think so, huh?”

     “I know so,” Emilia beamed as she tightened up the knot.

     Loge examined the freshly knotted necktie and took a deep breath to reset himself. “How do I look?”

     The Salazzle started flexing her journalist vocabulary. “Dashing. Handsome. Charming. Groomed.”

     The Zoroark raised an eyebrow. “Groomed?”

     Emilia shuddered a bit and blushed. “Did I make it weird? Oh Necrozma, I made it weird didn’t I. Let me go find my thesaurus and...”

     Loge chuckled and strode past her. “Don’t worry about it. Handsome and dashing gentlemen like myself can live with an awkward compliment from their roommate.”

     “I’ll write a new one on the way over!” Emilia offered sheepishly as she followed her friend down the stairs.

     “Maybe try out new words?” the Zoroark suggested.

     Emilia’s brain went into rapid fire mode. “Uh...fresh. Squeaky. Proper. Lubricated.”

     Loge stifled one of his louder laughs as he opened the front door for them.

A Farfetch’d regally marched towards the Raichu working the front desk and smacked his sword of office on it to get her attention. “Lord Kristofferson, madam! I seek the Major Crimes Division of this establishment. I have a promotion party to attend.”

     Sergeant Riley, assuming the nameplate on the desk was accurate, flinched from the noise and started poring through the invite list. “O-of course, sir. Let’s see...C-H...”

     “K! K, good madam, K!” Kristofferson exclaimed, flapping his wings. “Christofferson with a C-H is my nephew’s cousin’s brother, and considering he’s on an expedition to Pengo-Pengo at the moment, it’d be quite a shock if he showed up, wouldn’t it?”

     The Bewear behind him nodded quietly.

     Riley blinked. “And who is this?”

     “This would be my guest for the evening and my security detail, Boris,” Kristofferson introduced cordially.

     Boris raised a paw. “Hi!”

     Riley jumped and ducked behind her desk.

     “Sorry,” Boris apologized.

     “He’s harmless, madam, fear not,” Kristofferson assured with a chuckle, to a questionable amount of success. “This won’t be a problem, will it?”

     “N-not at all, sir. No, sir,” Riley stammered as she slid a clipboard his way. “J-just check in and you can head right in.”

     “Splendid!” Kristofferson lauded as he picked up a pencil. “I appreciate your flexibility, madam!”

     “Lord Kristofferson?” came a familiar sounding voice from the front door.

     The Farfetch’d and Bewear turned around and Kristofferson smiled a welcoming grin. “Well well, if it’s not the esteemed Miss Emilia Reptilia once again!”

     The Salazzle strutted into the room with three others in tow: a Delphox sporting a high quality orange and yellow necktie, a Lucario with a black headband tied around his forehead, and a Zoroark wearing a rather tacky looking red-and-black striped tie that someone clearly did up on his behalf.

     “I wouldn’t have expected you to be here, of all places,” the reporter noted.

     “Nor would I you, but alas, life is nothing if not filled with surprises,” Kristofferson stated as he walked over, lifted Emilia’s hand and respectfully gave it a small peck. “A pleasure as always. You remember Boris, surely.”

     “Oh yeah, I actually do!” Loge recalled as he warmly waved at the Bewear. “How have you been?”

     Boris smiled widely and waved back. “Hi!”

     Loge and Emilia yelped. Riley ducked for cover again. Kit and Luka did not seem too fazed.

     “Sorry.”

     “I take it you’re here for soon-to-be Sergeant Titus’ party as well?” the Delphox assumed.

     “Somewhat, yes,” Kristofferson nodded. “I was looking over the police department’s financials and noticed a sum of Poké tucked away for a rather immersive field training exercise. As Minister of Finance, I thought I’d come by and see whether it’s something worth doing again in future.”

     “I was led to believe it was more of a contest than a training exercise,” Kit blinked.

     “That so?” Kristofferson asked dubiously.

     “Lord Kristofferson, this is Kit the Delphox,” Emilia introduced.

     “Private detective and part-time consultant for SCPD,” Kit added. “Titus thought I might be interested in playing along with this ‘case.’”

     “And possibly assisting?” Kristofferson suggested.

     “Nope, that’s my job!” Loge chimed in, enthusiastically shaking Kristofferson’s wing. “Loge the Zoroark, second best private eye in the Coast and Kit’s trusty assistant and self-appointed best friend!”

     The Farfetch’d was practically bouncing up and down. “I-I-I do say, I like your gumption, g-g-good sir!”

     “I don’t know what that is!” Loge happily replied.

     “It means you’re going to dislocate his wing,” Kit grumbled, massaging the bridge of his nose.

     A stomp and rumble of the tile floor caused Loge to halt and look up at the shadow of Boris, who looked like he was preparing to boot a soccer ball.

     Loge could only manage to utter, “Meep.”

     “Now, now, Boris, he means well enough,” Kristofferson goodheartedly called off the Bewear. “We are in a police station after all.”

     “I’ll be keeping an eye on him too, Lord Minister,” Luka mentioned with a polite bow. “Master Luka of the Silver Coast School of Iron...”

     “Oh, of course!” Kristofferson’s eyes lit up. “You’re that splendid martial arts instructor my second cousin’s stepdaughter’s niece keeps telling me about!”

     Luka blinked. “I am?”

     “Boris, do escort us into the venue properly. I have oh so many things to ask you, Master!”

     “Yep!” Boris saluted Kristofferson before scooping up Luka in both paws.

     Emilia started to panic. “M-Master, please be careful!”

     “Detective, it seems I’m being stolen,” the Lucario blankly noted.

     Riley meekly peered up from behind her desk and raised the clipboard. “Could you at least sign in first or...”

     “Oh, their colleagues can handle that for them, madam. Presently, we have many things to discuss and not that much time before the main event!” Kristofferson said as he marched past the main desk along with Boris and Luka. “Now then, I’ve been told you’re from a secret...”

     “H-h-h-hey! That’s my assistant! I’m useless without him! Get back here!” Loge yelled and began pursuing them.

     Kit and Emilia just looked at each other and sighed. “I’ll sign us in,” Kit said, shaking his head.

     “At least tonight’s going to be eventful?” Emilia replied, sheepishly grinning.

     “More than I’d probably like,” the Delphox muttered as he took the clipboard from Riley.

Loge, the professional nonprofessional that he was, had a very strict protocol when it came to venturing into any unknown territory, friendly or hostile, wild or civilized. The first item on that list was, without exception, to find out where the food was. Fortunately, at parties such as this, that was almost always a trivial task, and the first ten or so minutes of his visit to the Silver Coast Police Department were spent loading up a paper plate with as many hors d’oeuvres, desserts, charcuterie and whatever else was on offer at the snack table.

     Kit blinked as the Zoroark sidled past him with a six-inch high stack of food. “How do you not weigh...all the pounds?”

     “No idea! But the worst thing you can do in life is let good food go to waste, and my family is nothing if not resourceful!” Loge replied as he reached for an apple-stuffed pastry. “Pardon.”

     The Delphox shook his head. “Just promise me this won’t cause a hinderance. You’re auditioning remember?”

     “Yeah, yeah, I haven’t forgotten,” Loge said as he munched on a cannoli. “But you gotta start casework right! Brain food!”

     “You put too much fatty food in your body and the blood will go from your brain to your stomach to help digest it,” Kit mentioned, crossing his arms.

     “So?”

     “So your methods are already off and we don’t even have a crime scene yet.”

     “But this is a party on the other hand,” a Mightyena chimed in as he paced towards the two friends. “You’re allowed to have at least a little fun, is my thoughts.”

     “Yes, sir! Already on it, sir!” the Zoroark saluted as he tossed a couple tarts onto his platter.

     “More people here than I was expecting, honestly,” Kit observed, looking around the room. A few desks had to be moved about but the Major Crimes division had a remarkable amount of floor space when it was not cluttered with all the trappings it normally had. Kit counted close to fifty officers in total, and it would have likely been higher if Silver Coast magically solved all its problems for the night and the ones on shift could come in.

     Titus nodded. “Turns out you can get a lot of colleagues to show up if you just offer them food and entertainment.”

     Kit peered over his shoulder at his assistant. “You don’t say. Never said thanks incidentally.”

     “Pleasure’s mine, Kit,” Titus smiled back, brushing his loose hanging tie off. “Though, if you don’t mind my saying...”

     “Gomph raiaheamph!” Loge tried to say through a mouthful of snacks.

     Kit shot the Zoroark a glance and sighed. “I’m good at this. He tried to say, ‘go right ahead.’”

     “You have quite the eclectic entourage,” the Mightyena observed.

     Loge forced a swallow before shouting “Thanks!” back at Titus.

     “It’s a little makeshift at times, but I guess we all have complimentary skills in one way or another,” Kit added, glancing over at Emilia in the crowd. She was borderline salivating at the prospects of getting a lot of work done on her almanac. “Emilia’s a bit high strung but she’s really good at understanding people. Probably even better than I am, come to think of it.”

     “And what about Master Luka?” Titus asked before surveying the room and cocking his head. “And are we sure he’s safe with that Bewear holding him?”

     Loge nearly forgot his assistant had been abducted and whirled around looking for him, Mt. Snack swaying with the momentum. “Oh shoot, where did he go? Is he okay?”

     Kit grabbed Loge’s shoulder and pointed in Boris’ direction. Luka was still casually reclining in his arms while seemingly being peppered nonstop by questions from Lord Kristofferson.

     “...I’m not getting him,” Loge stated.

     “Calm down, it’s just a Bewear,” Kit replied. “Look at him. You can probably take a nap on him.”

     “You know exactly what you’re saying!” the Zoroark exclaimed.

     “Well, he’s your assistant, ‘Detective.’ I’m just here to make sure you don’t mess anything up,” Kit stated, motioning towards Boris. “Communicating with others is the most important part of the job.”

     Loge gulped and started woodenly walking in his direction. “Maybe he likes food?”

     “See? You already have something in common.”

     Titus blinked as Loge vanished into the crowd. “And you’re...certain this Zoroark is up for working at your firm?”

     “He’s helped me out in the past,” Kit answered. “A lot, actually. Has a good intuition but...lacks technique I guess.”

     “Like, experience?”

     “Something like that,” the Delphox shrugged as he dusted off an apple from a fruit bowl. “He’s got a knack for being in the right place at the right time. After that, he just kinda flies by the seat of his pants and hopes for the best.”

     “Sounds a lot like me starting out,” Titus chuckled a bit. “Did a few years working a patrol beat before I got the call up to Major Crimes. A lot of my arrests were really just down to me happening to be near where the action was. Nothing big most of the time, but I got to do my job. Can’t really complain about that, right?”

     “Hmm,” Kit thought as he munched the fruit. “Guess I don’t really have that luck.”

     “How do you mean?”

     “I don’t like charging into things before I can get a good lay of the land,” he elaborated. “So I don’t really get chances like that to just spring into action. I’d rather set everything up first, make sure I have all my avenues covered, that sort of thing.”

     “I see,” Titus replied. “You like being in control, don’t you, Detective?”

     “That’s one way to put it, Detective.”

     “Nothing wrong with that of course,” the Mightyena added warmly, and glanced over at Loge. “If you don’t mind my saying, I think you and Loge complement each other a lot more than you think.”

     “We get that a lot,” Kit noted. Loge was shakily holding a jelly donut in front of Boris’ nose. He was turned off to the side, eyes shut tight like he was ready for his hand to go with it. 

     “More on a personal level, probably. But professionally I think he’d be a good fit for your firm. He might not be as experienced or as deliberate as you are, but people who take initiative aren’t easy to come by. Javi and I work the same way; I might pull together a lot of the pieces on our casework, but someone needs to go out and find them first.”

     Kit blinked and took another bite of apple. “You got all of that from a guy you met this afternoon, eh?”

     “It’s more my thoughts,” the Mightyena stated with a friendly smile. “After all, thinking is what we’re best at, isn’t it?”

     The Delphox was interrupted by the tap of a microphone near the front of the party area.

“¡Damas y caballeros! ¡Bienvenido al Departmento de Policía de la Costa de Plata! ¡Es hora...del evento...prrrrrrrrrrrrrincipal! ¿Quien? ¿Esta? ¿Liiiiistooooooooo?”

     “Javi!” Titus yelled from the crowd. The Hawlucha immediately paused his introduction and blankly stared in the Mightyena’s general direction. “Can you say that all again in a language we know, please?”

     “We-he-hell, discúlpeme señor, for trying to stoke some enthusiasm!” Javi protested into his overly echoey microphone. “There’s a reason everyone loves the Terapagan soccer commentators more. We put our heart into everything! What’s wrong with giving a not-murder case a bit of that spice as well, huh?”

      “I quite like it actually,” a Farfetch’d commented from the back, waving a scabbard around. “Carry on, good man! Your words are nonsense but your spirit is brilliant!”

     “Haha! See that, Titus? Not gonna argue with the mayor now, are you?”

     A Zoroark raised an éclair into the air. “I thought he was just...”

     “¡De todos modos!” Javi interrupted with a flourish. “We’re almost ready for the party’s main event! Before that, though, we have a few words from el capitán himself.” He lowered the microphone and looked behind him, and then around the room. “Uh...of course, assuming he’s not already on patrol or anything.”

     “I-I-I can get him,” Riley offered, a tremor in her voice.

     “If you can! Thanks!”

     Riley put a hand to her ear. “Uh...Zero-One, 10-25 HQ?” she asked, her voice rising in fear with each word. “Y-yes, Code 3,” she finished with a gulp before ducking down and covering the back of her head. The rest of the officers did something similar, and Loge barely got a second to think about what was going on before a thunderclap boomed from the front doors and a bright yellow streak of light zipped towards Javi. Kit winced at the noise and pulled his ears down against his head. Emilia yelped and leapt into Loge’s arms, expecting him to scramble for the exit in turn. Boris and Luka merely blinked at the spectacle, neither particularly perturbed.

     A Zeraora, wearing a blue officer’s shirt that looked a few sizes too small against his strong, athletic frame, skidded to a halt next to Javi and panted a bit. “I’m here,” he said after a moment, in a gravelly baritone.

     Javi blinked back. “Y-you really didn’t have to run if you...”

     “Yes, I did. Gimme that.” The captain nabbed the microphone from Javi and paid him no further mind. “Alright, Blues, listen up! For the first time since I took over as SCPD’s captain, I’m out on patrol! There’s a lot of ground to cover in this city, but I’m handling all of it for the duration of this party and training exercise! It’s not gonna be easy, but the chief wanted all hands on deck and someone has to keep this city safe while you guys are mingling and playing pretend! You lot are lucky I am capable and willing to handle this for you and our city!”

     “Yes, sir!” the officers in the crowd yelled back.

     “So! While I’m out making sure the city doesn’t burn to the ground while everyone who should be on duty is in here, you people had better make this the best promotion party this half of The Worldspine! The department is counting on you! Not-Yet-Sergeant Titus is counting on you! And if I come back in here and find out you have been dishonoring and wasting my time and efforts, I will send your tail right to Internal Affairs and we will give you the proper motivation! Do you get that, Blues?”

     “Y-yes, sir!”

     “Then what do you say to your kind, selfless captain?” the Zeraora bellowed.

     All of the officers, including Titus and Javi, saluted and replied in unison, “Thank you, Captain Fluffyface!”

     Captain Fluffyface crossed his arms and grinned reservedly. “That’s more like it. Now, Javi will...”

     Someone snickered in the crowd.

     The captain’s eyes slowly narrowed. “Who’s laughing?” he quietly asked.

     “S-sorry,” Loge wheezed. “F...Fluffyface?”

     Emilia scampered over to Loge in a slight panic. “Loge, cut it out!”

     “L...hehe...look at him! Just cut to the quick, call him Captain Prettiest Princess!” the Zoroark snorted in stifled laughter.

     A thunderstrike boomed. “WHO SAID THAT?!?”

     Boris and Luka pointed at Loge.

     Emilia took cover behind her notepad.

     Kit sipped a can of lemonade.

     Titus looked slightly worried.

     A zap of electricity snapped in front of Loge, and his mirth immediately made way to intimidation as Captain Fluffyface towered six inches over him at about twice his weight.

     “...how can I help you, Officer?” he toothily, nervously grinned.

     “Yeah, you’re not a comedian anymore now, are you?” Captain Fluffyface shouted before scanning the Zoroark. “I’d rip you a new one but you’re not one of my guys! I don’t think I even know who you are, and Arceus help me, I wish it stayed that way! What’s your name, sunshine?!”

     “U-u-uh...I have the right to remain silent?”

     “That you do, but you also clearly don’t have the ability to exercise it!” the Zeraora boomed. “You have to be one of the stupidest people I’ve met and I’ve known you for a whole thirty seconds! Next time I catch you snickering at so much as what my shampoo smells like, I’ll turn you into the barbell I use for my morning bench presses! Got all that?”

     “Y...y...yes...”

     “YES WHAT?!?”

     “Y-yes, Captain Fluffyface!!” Loge yelled back, a tear in his eye.

     “That’s more like it!” Captain Fluffyface huffed, and stole a cheese slice from Loge’s snack plate. “At ease!” he barked before bolting back out the doors.

     Kit silently sipped his beverage again. “Is he always like that?”

     “Close to it,” Titus admitted, tugging at his tie. “But nothing we’re not used to. Everyone’s been ranted at by him at least once.”

     “What’d he say to you?”

     “Something about me being stuck in the K9 unit for my entire career.”

     “Ah,” the Delphox uttered, and went back to his drink. “...were you good at it?”

     “Four commendations and a service medal,” the Mightyena sheepishly boasted.

     Loge stood motionless for a minute, staring at nothing, all color gone from his face, before limply shuffling over to Boris for a hug. The Bewear cheerfully obliged.

     “There, there, Not-Detective,” Luka said, patting the Zoroark’s head with his free hand.

     “I had no idea the hardened police veteran would be so scary,” Loge whimpered. He thought he felt his shoulder dislocate but at this point anything was better than what he just went through.

     Javi picked the dropped microphone and cleared his throat. “Uh, thank you, capitán, for your motivational words. And with that out of the way, I’d like to formally introduce our star guests for the evening. Amigos, here to explain our training exercise in detail, Señorita Eva and The Eons!”

     Two files of four Pokémon filed onto the “stage” as Javi set the microphone back into its stand. Kit was hardly surprised at what he saw, given the name of the group, but he still eyed Emilia writing a novel into her notebook from the far end of the room. From left to right, a Vaporeon, Jolteon, Flareon, Espeon, Umbreon, Glaceon, Leafeon, and Sylveon, all crossed and had a seat upstage. The sound of rapid footsteps came from behind them as an Eevee bounded across the desks and with a great leap and a flip, landed in front of the array of evolutions with a fabulous pose.

     Some scattered applause filtered in and the Eevee sat down in front of the microphone stand. “Ahem,” she said after a minute.

     “Oh, sorry,” Javi apologized as he dashed over, lowered it down to her height, and ran back off stage again.

     “Better,” she beamed and turned to her audience. “Thanks for having us tonight! I am Eva, these wonderful people behind me are my family, and combined, we’re The Eons!”

     All eight of them plus Eva raised a paw. “It’s good to meet you!” they said together.

     Boris dropped Loge and copied them. “Hi!”

     The Eons all recoiled with an “Ack!”

     “Sorry!” Boris called back and tried to scoop the Zoroark back up.

     Eva fixed the bow tied around her ear and righted her posture, her nose snootily raised. “You’re forgiven, Mr. Bewear. Don’t do it again though.”

     Boris dropped Loge and raised a paw to salute her. “Yes ma...”

     “Ack!”

     “Sorry!” he apologized again as he gathered up Loge again.

     “Ow...” the Zoroark quietly whimpered.

     “Maybe I should just introduce everyone and say what the rules are,” the Eevee hurried along. “Ladies and gentlemen, your suspects!”

     The Vaporeon went first. “Mrs. Blue.”

     “Mr. Yellow,” the Jolteon bowed politely.

     “Mr. Red!” the Flareon enthusiastically beamed.

     “Ms. Black,” the Umbreon happily introduced.

     “Ms. Lavender,” the Espeon said with a warm smile.

     “Mr. Blue,” the Glaceon proudly stated.

     The Leafeon sneezed. “Excuse me. Ms. Green.”

     “And I’m Mr. Pink!” the Sylveon shouted.

     “He did it,” Emilia chimed in.

     Mr. Pink shuddered. “How did you kn...I mean, how dare you, madam!” he replied with a gasp.

     “Now, now, let’s all take a step back,” the Eevee consoled. “I’m sure Ms. Salazzle has a perfectly good explanation for her accusation. Where’s your evidence?”

     Emilia’s tongue flicked around like a party streamer. “Well, I...uh...” she hesitated and blushed.

     Eva laughed to herself. “That’s the game after all, isn’t it? Your job is to collect evidence, interview suspects, and at the end of the night, figure out which one of my dastardly compatriots conspired against me!” She fluffed up a bit and started to cackle as she finished her sentence.

     The crowd of officers blinked back at her. Somebody coughed.

     Eva settled down. “As for myself, as I will be meeting my untimely end during all of this, I will be unable to field any questions about the mystery itself. I’ll still be walking around and mingling of course but...”

     “As a zombie?!” Loge exclaimed.

     “No, not as a zombie!” Eva impudently shouted back, craning her neck and standing up on her hind legs a little. “It’s a mock murder mystery, you inconceivably dense buffoon, wherever you are! I’m not actually going to be...”

     A jagged quill of yellow and white fur flew in from offstage, and Eva never got to finish her thought. The Eevee got struck in the neck by the needle, and she froze up immediately.

     All eight of The Eons gasped.

     Eva twitched slightly before rigidly falling over onto her side like a stuffed toy.

     “...d-d...dead...” she quietly squeaked out.

     The crowd started bustling and muttering amongst themselves in shock and confusion.

     Emilia Reptilia was scribbling into her notebook like she was witnessing the story of the century.

     Titus raised a paw after a moment. “Excuse me. She’s...fine, right?”

     The Jolteon paced over to Eva and looked at her. “You alright? That was supposed to be one of the lower voltage ones.”

     “I th-th-thought we w-were using the other s-s-script...” Eva stuttered in between electrified twitches.

     The Eons all looked at one another in confusion. “Revision Eighty-Six, right?” Mr. Blue asked.

     “I thought this was Eighty-Six,” said Ms. Black, baffled.

     “Didn’t we make an Eighty-Seven at one point?” asked Mr. Pink.

     “Oh dear,” sighed Mr. Red. “We’ll have to get this sorted. Everyone, uh...go with the backup plan. I’m sure Eva will think of something in the meantime. Right?”

     “Someone j-just take this th-th-thing out,” the Eevee grumbled. “And g-g-get me some cake...”

     Ms. Green ran off to the snack table as Mr. Yellow sat down and extracted the electric quill.

Loge shook his head and clicked his tongue. “It’s horrible, Luka. She was such a sweet kid too. Bit on the bossy end, and her fuse is shorter than my dad’s somehow, but...”

     “I can hear you,” Eva sternly interrupted as Riley finished tracing around her.

     Loge sighed and peered up at the ceiling. “I bet she would be reminding me that she can hear me right now if this didn’t happen.”

     “Tragic,” the Lucario solemnly added.

     Eva growled.

     Titus approached with Kit from behind. “Any initial thoughts, Detective?” the Mightyena asked.

     Kit did not answer. Loge wondered why not for a minute, and then figured it out. “Oh, right. Um, nothing yet. I’m waiting for our excellent forensic scientist here to finish up.”

     “I’m really more of a medic,” the Raichu clarified as she finished the chalk loop around Eva. “But I guess we all have a role to play tonight so...”

     “We appreciate you volunteering,” Titus smiled. “You, Javi, Captain Fluffyface, the chief, everyone. This wouldn’t be going on without you.”

     “Oh, i-it’s nothing, Sergeant. Uh, Almost-Sergeant. Or Titus still, I guess, since we’re going to be equals and...”

     “Can I stand up now?”

     Riley shuddered and put the chalk away. “S-sorry, yes, you can stand up.”

     “Finally,” Eva groaned as she stood up and shook herself off. She glanced down at her outline on the floor, then leered up at Riley. “I’m not that chunky.”

     “Your neck...floof thingy was in the way! I had to do something!” she protested. “Did we do something to get you so upset today?”

     Eva bristled. “As a matter of fact...”

     She stopped as she caught the emerald one-eyed gaze of the Delphox. He was staring at her. Almost like he was studying, analyzing her every movement and mannerism.

     She quickly backed off and cleared her throat. “I’m sorry for yelling. Between the hard floor and the electric needle, it’s not been a fun past half hour for me.”

     “Can’t be any worse than what Captain Fluffyface put me through,” the Zoroark commented, itching the back of his head.

     The Eevee glowered at Loge again. “Do you want to try getting stabbed by that thing?”

     Loge dashed behind Luka in response.

     “It’s...fine, Miss Eva,” Riley stated with a shake of her head, then turned to a paper stack she left on one of the nearby desks. “Would you like me to start passing these around?”

     “Yes, please. I’m going to take a break,” the Eevee replied, her tone calmer but no less uppity. She strutted away towards the crowd. “What happened to that cake anyway...”

     The Raichu grumbled to herself and straightened the pile with a clack against the desk’s top. “What is with her tonight?”

     “I’d try not to be too mad, Sergeant,” Luka politely interjected. “She is staging her own death in a way. That shock she took was probably the real deal.”

     “Well, she scripted it and decided to go through with it, so she doesn’t get to...n-never mind,” Riley sighed and hung her head. “I’m going to shut up before I say something out of line. Here.”

     She handed Loge one of the papers out of her stack, and he quickly looked it over. In the upper right quarter of the page was a small drawing of Eva, with a small dot penned in where her neck would be. The word “electrocution” was connected to it with a small line. The rest of the sheet was devoted to other details about Eva: her name, species, birthday, height, weight, location, cause of “death” (Riley thought it appropriate to add the quotations herself), and whatever else the Raichu felt relevant to the case.

     “Forensic report?” Loge asked.

     Riley nodded. “I tried to make enough copies for everyone. Sorry if there’s any mistakes; I had to rush these out a few minutes ago.”

     Kit’s eye narrowed. “They weren’t already made?”

     “There were a couple inconsistencies with the events onstage that I had to address,” the Raichu explained with exhaustion. “I don’t really like missing the small stuff, you know?”

     “Hope it wasn’t too tedious,” Titus consoled as he took a copy of his own.

     “I-it’s fine, really,” Riley replied, forcing a smile as she continued to pass the papers around. “This is one of the last things I need to do today, with any luck.”

     “Well, we appreciate the effort, even if it seems like others don’t,” Luka said, peering at the food tables at Eva.

     “Thanks, I guess...” the Raichu said as she tried handing a copy to Kit. “Mr. Delphox?”

     Kit ignored her, his gaze still fixed on the Eevee, who still looked rather annoyed going from her walk and what he could make of her facial expression.

     Riley tapped his arm with the report. “Mr. Delphox!”

     “Hey, smart guy!” Loge cut in, waving his hand in front of Kit’s face. “You might want that.”

     “Oh, sorry,” Kit replied and took his copy. “Just something on my mind. Thank you.”

     “What is it?” Loge asked.

     “Not saying. You’re the detective tonight, aren’t you?”

     Titus nodded. “Indeed. So what’s our first port of call, Mr. Loge?”

     Loge flinched and looked over his report, then back at the crime scene, then back at Titus, then back at Kit, then back at Luka. “Um...let’s just talk about the evidence we have first?”

     Luka nodded. “Seems decent. Do we have the weapon somewhere?”

     “N-no, not yet. But I’ll make sure it’s brought out,” Riley stuttered and speedily walked through the crowd. “Sorry, I need to give these out. Good luck, Titus!”

     The Mightyena nodded and turned to leave as well. “I’ll find us a table.”

     “Thanks!” Loge grinned toothily and turned to his friend. “What’s up with you?”

     “I dunno, ‘Detective.’ What is up with me?” Kit asked back.

     “You know what I’m talking about,” Loge scolded. “You’re usually more dialed in than this!” He gasped sharply. “Oh, don’t tell me you’ve cracked it already!”

     “Not really,” the Delphox calmly responded, then turned towards the crowd and scanned for The Eons dispersed within it. “I’m trying to work on my people skills.”

     “By zoning out in the middle of conversations?” Luka inquired.

     “I was deducing something, thank you kindly,” Kit rebutted, then put a hand to his chin. “It’s a little hard to explain right now though.”

     “What does that mean?” Loge asked, befuddled.

     “It means I have a few questions to ask our murder victim,” the Delphox deflected as he paced towards the crowd. “Happy crime solving, bathbomb.”

     “Thanks, Ki...” The Zoroark’s expression went icily stern. “What did you say?”

     “I think he called you ‘bathbomb,’ Not-Detective,” Luka repeated.

     “Oh, not you too!” Loge moaned.

     “I’m not sure why he would though. Does it mean anything to...”

     “No, it doesn’t! Moving along!” Loge ranted as he stormed over to his team’s table.

Emilia Reptilia delicately sipped a cup of tea with one hand as she scrawled interview notes with the other, slipping in a factoid that might be useful for her almanac here and there in addition. “So then how would the quill have come from the direction it did?”

     “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell everyone!” Mr. Yellow exclaimed before defeatedly, exhaustedly slamming his head on the table he was sitting at. “I’m the prime suspect just because of how Eva died and I can’t change anyone’s mind.”

     The Glaceon patted his friend’s back. “Oh, now, now, it’ll work itself out. We believe in you, don’t we, dear?”

     “Absolutely,” Mrs. Blue nodded. “And Miss Reptilia is here to help.”

     “If you want to pay me back, I’m working on a project you guys can help with?” Emilia enthusiastically offered.

     The Jolteon heaved a heavy sigh.

     “...later, of course,” she quickly added and flipped to a new page. “How long have you guys been working with Eva?”

     “A while, actually,” Mr. Blue replied. “A couple years now, though she’s only become leader this past month.”

     “We’re a family act. We originally worked with her parents up to their retirement. They were very kind,” the Vaporeon added, grinning a little at Mr. Blue. “Even let their son-in-law in on the family business.”

     “You two are married?” asked Emilia.

     “Our fourth anniversary is next week,” Mr. Blue beamed.

     “Congrats!” the Salazzle cheered as she continued scribbling and sipping. “I was under the impression you were all brothers and sisters or something like that.”

     “Not entirely,” Mr. Yellow mentioned. “Mrs. Blue, me, and Mr. Red are all her older siblings. Everyone else is an in-law or an aunt or an uncle or something like that.”

     “I see,” muttered Emilia as she started doodling a diagram. “And what do you guys do for the troupe, if I can ask?”

     “You may!” the Glaceon grinned with esteem. “The missus and I are in charge of the team’s props! Mechanical devices and engineering specifically.”

     “Mr. Blue owns a workshop near the harbor,” his wife elaborated. “He might only work part time with us, but his services are indispensable.”

     “Oh please, love,” he chuckled back. “Eva’s father knows more about stagecraft than I ever will. My work is hardly comparable.”

     The couple’s conversation devolved quickly into lovey mush that Emilia’s brain had problems transcribing, so Mr. Yellow picked up where they left off. “Mr. Red is our head scriptwriter and Eva’s right-hand Pokémon, and I just...kinda help out with whatever I need to.”

     “Neat!” the Salazzle noted, then put the end of her pen to her head. “It’s a little troubling that someone would be willing to attack Eva like this though. You all seem pretty well-knit.”

     The Jolteon heaved a sigh. “You’d think that at first glance, wouldn’t you.”

     Emilia raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

     “Well, we’ve historically gotten along well but...” The Glaceon looked around furtively for a minute and then leaned closer towards the reporter. “I can think of a few reasons why someone would be...displeased with her.”

     “Such as?”

     “Well, she’s downright atrocious to work under, for starters,” Mr. Yellow grumbled. “First thing she did was rebrand us to Eva and The Eons. Not just The Eons anymore. She has to be the headliner now.”

     “Which is fine, to an extent. It does have a nice ring to it,” Mrs. Blue pointed out. “But she’s also our leader. And she’s...how should I put it gently, icepop?”

     “She’s abysmal at her job,” Mr. Blue bluntly replied. “We had weeks of prep time for this event and Eva would not stop having ideas and demanding we implement them. The murder method was particularly sticky, and every time she came up with something new, all of our work got tossed into the bin and we’d have to start over again.”

     “How often did this happen?” Emilia cautiously asked.

     “Too often to count,” Mr. Yellow grumbled with a shake of his head. “And then you got to the rehearsals. Everything had to be perfect with her. We don’t usually do interactive improv events like this, but she’d groan and yell at people if they didn’t have a response ready within a second of her asking a question, no matter how bonkers it was. It really hurts everyone’s morale, you know?”

     “Why don’t you just quit?” Emilia suggested. “Or just tell her to get lost and make your own troupe without her?”

     “It’s...not really that easy,” Mrs. Blue admitted. “The Eons aren’t really a new act. We’ve been performing for the past fifty years, just with the mantle of leader being passed down from generation to generation.”

     “When we say it’s a family act, we mean it,” added Mr. Blue. “If we left or we shoved Eva to the side, we’d be destroying part of the family legacy with it. You don’t do that to family, even those who get on your nerves as much as she does.”

     “Which makes this all the more shocking,” Mrs. Blue sighed, then glanced at the Jolteon. “Uh, no pun or offense intended.”

     “Is there any reason she got selected as the act’s leader specifically?” the Salazzle asked.

     Nobody seemed to want to answer. “You would need to ask the parents, and like we said, they’re retired,” Mr. Yellow spoke up after a minute. “Frankly, when she got chosen over Mr. Red, I think everyone was surprised. But we went with it regardless. Everyone trusted her dad.”

     “And we still do,” Mrs. Blue asserted. “She’s inexperienced when it comes to running shows like this, but you can argue she was pushing the boat out. It’s stressful doing something like this. On everyone’s fronts.”

     “You think that might have gotten to someone then, do you, dear?” Mr. Blue inquired.

     “I think that’s most likely,” the Vaporeon nodded, then turned back to Emilia. “But I’m speculating of course. A journalist like yourself should be able to get to the bottom of this with no problems, surely!”

     “That’s the hope at any rate,” Emilia shyly smiled back, and flipped her notebook shut.

“Right then!” Loge stated as he started flipping through the report, holding a pretzel rod between his teeth like a Pangoro with a particularly thick bamboo shoot. “Victim is a Miss Eva the Eevee. Height is one foot two inches, weight is...it just says ‘rude.’”

     Luka and Titus looked at each other as they read along. “...I mean, it is,” the Lucario commented.

     “It’s a police report, we have to be scientific,” Titus corrected as he scanned the room for Eva. “Bet I can eyeball it.”

     “¡Hehey, mi amigos!” hailed a Hawlucha waltzing towards the party. “Uh, nineteen pounds by the way, Titus. She wouldn’t let Riley write that down.”

     “...but it is rude to ask that,” Luka repeated.

     “Well, she shouldn’t have volunteered to be murdered then,” the Zoroark chortled as he edited the report.

     “Here to help?” asked Titus.

     “Love to but can’t. My role as maestro de ceremonias forbids me from getting involved,” Javi replied, then looked over his shoulders and hopped into a seat. “...is what I’m supposed to say. And now that I have, what are we doing?”

     The Mightyena looked like he was going to say something, but shook his head instead. “Just reading over the forensic report right now.”

     “Let’s see here...” Loge muttered as he crunched his snack. “Cause of death is electrocution, practically instantaneous. One highly charged Jolteon quill right to the floof.”

     Javi blinked. “The...floof, you say.”

     “Yeah, you know, the...” Loge stammered, motioning to his neck and flexing his hand like he was fluffing up his mane in the morning. “The...the floof!”

     “That would be her neck,” Titus politely clarified.

     “Yeah, that!” the Zoroark cheered. “Thanks, Not-Yet-Sarge. So! All signs point towards Mr. Yellow, right? It’s his quill, which my trusty assistant and self-appointed best friend’s yoga teacher can probably attest to...”

     “It’s not yoga.”

     “Which naturally makes him the prime suspect,” Loge continued, tapping his chin with the pretzel rod. “Hmm...this would be the part where Kit makes me look silly...”

     “I think there’s more to this,” Titus added, pawing at the mocked-up forensic analysis. “The quill hit Eva about square on her right side, but Mr. Yellow was behind her to her left when she was speaking. Unless he fired it at light speed and off a wall or something, he couldn’t have shot her directly.”

     “That’ll do,” Loge shrugged. “But that doesn’t really vindicate him. He could have made a trap or something to launch it.”

     “Think about this another way, zorro,” Javi suggested. “The murder weapon is a Jolteon quill. Everybody knows this. If I’m Mr. Yellow and I want to get away with this, does it make sense for me to use something that is practically yelling, ‘¡Hohoy, mírame, soy el culpable!’”

     “I don’t know what you said, but I’m going to guess no,” Luka stoically replied.

     “He’s trying to say Mr. Yellow wouldn’t use his quills if he wanted to avoid suspicion,” the Mightyena translated.

     “Right, because they’d be traced back to him,” the Zoroark nodded and crunched on his pretzel again. “You think someone set him up?”

     “Can’t say without examining the weapon at least,” Titus stated. “Either way, his role in this case isn’t nearly as big as we think.”

     “Pardon me, good fellows!” a voice interrupted from the side of the table. Loge leaned over and saw Kristofferson porting around the quill on a piece of cloth. “I’ve been charged with...”

     “Heh, charge,” Loge chuckled, then quickly stopped himself. “Sorry, continue.”

     “Have you had a chance to examine the weapon yet?” the Farfetch’d finished.

     “No, but I’d like to,” Luka replied, taking the quill and cloth off Kristofferson’s wings.

     “Do be careful with it,” he cautioned. “Very sharp and still highly electrified.”

     “Thank you, Lord Minister, but I’ll be fine,” the Lucario calmly asserted, and he shut his eyes and gently placed his hands on the quill. It erupted into azure flames as he did.

     Kristofferson recoiled and flapped his wings. “My goodness gracious, he’s destroying evidence!”

     Luka heaved a quiet but heavy sigh.

     “I don’t see anything burning,” Javi cautiously observed.

     “I hope it’s supposed to do that,” Titus said nervously.

     “Yeah, it’s just part of his thing. Everything’s fine!” Loge reassured. “Usually.”

     “U-usually?!” the Farfetch’d exclaimed, grabbing his scabbard and shaking it a couple inches away from the Zoroark’s nose. “Now you listen to me here, my good fellow! The city of Silver Coast has graced me with the appropriate funds to orchestrate and organize this event for the fine ladies and gentlemen that patrol our streets and ensure our safety every day! I will not have one of the most vital components to this exercise be incinerated by a...oh, it’s fine.”

     Luka opened his eyes and passed the quill back to Kristofferson. “I’m sorry for the concern, sir. You may have it back.”

     “What’s the word, assistant?” Loge asked eagerly as he flipped what remained of his pretzel over his fingers.

     Luka crossed his arms. “The quill is undoubtedly Mr. Yellow’s, of course. But the aura attached to it is unrecognizable.”

     Loge’s ears perked.

     “Does that mean anything?” Titus asked.

     “It means it was handled by someone else,” the Lucario explained. “Which means...”

     “We have more than one culprit,” Loge concluded, and popped the rest of the pretzel in his mouth.

Eva huffed and sat down at a table by herself. What an absolute mess this night was turning out to be. Mr. Yellow nearly actually electrocuted her, then she found out that nobody figured out which revision they were supposed to be rehearsing, and now half of her troupe had gone ahead and vanished on her. Her immediate family was still in the room, sure, but Mr. Pink, Ms. Green, and Ms. Black were all noteworthy absences. Ms. Green was particularly infuriating, since that meant she had to get her own food before Boris could run over and inhale all the cake.

     At least she arrived in time though, and she grumpily took a chomp out of the slice.

     “So, how’s the party?” asked someone off to the side. She looked up and met the single-eyed gaze of the Delphox she spotted next to that one Mightyena everyone kept talking about.

     “I’m not supposed to be talking with you,” she firmly stated as she took another bite of cake. “I’m demph rememberph?”

     “I know you’re ‘dead’, but you can still talk about other things, right?” Kit replied, motioning to the seat next to her. “May I?”

     Eva felt a strong urge to tell him to buzz off, but on the other hand she did not really have anyone else to talk to. She sighed and swallowed her food. “Fine, I guess.”

     Kit helped himself to the chair. “Rough day?”

     “Everything’s misfiring,” she growled. “It’s all wrong. And the worst part is everyone thinks it’s all going fine.”

     “It is, to an extent,” the Delphox replied. “If everyone’s improvising then they’re doing a good job of selling it.”

     “I hate it,” Eva shortly snapped with disgust. “I spend three weeks coming up with a plot and preparing set pieces and getting everyone rehearsed for their characters, and then there’s this giant mix up and it’s all worthless now.”

     Kit felt his one-eyed stare narrow almost on reflex and tried to soften it a little. “Do you want to talk about it?”

     “Why, do you?” Eva barked. “What are you doing here anyway? You’re not a cop.”

     “My name’s Kit. I’m a friend of Titus’. He invited me over, mostly because of what you and your family’s doing.”

     “Hmph,” the Eevee grunted. “Well, I’m sorry you’re blowing your evening away then. This is not a great showing on our end.”

     “You sound like you could use someone to vent at,” Kit said. “Don’t suppose that’s why you’re over here by yourself? You’re frustrated and don’t want anyone around right now?”

     “What are you, a psychologist?” Eva glared at him.

     “Detective. But interviewing people is part of the job.”

     Eva looked down at her cake, then sighed. “Fine. You want a vent? Here goes. I’m so tired of constantly having to run around solving problems that I should not have to solve. There are nine of us but somehow we can’t collectively nail this one thing that we’ve been trying to rehearse since the start of the month. We don’t even have lines to memorize this time! Just characters to portray. It’s improv, Kit! We’ve been doing improv games as acting exercises since who knows when!”

     “I’m guessing this isn’t what you normally do, then?”

     “No, and that’s not an excuse in my book,” Eva huffed. “But mean ol’ Eva has gotta make everyone rehearse and put effort in of all things. I tried to be accommodating and give people characters they wanted to portray. Heck, Mr. Red even drafted some scripts for everyone to use, since they like rehearsing scenes so much.”

     Kit nodded slightly. “Just going from what you’re saying, it sounds like something fell apart.”

     Eva took another big bite of cake. “Mmph, ‘something’ means it’s just one thing. Everything’s off. Everyone had a different version of the script because of...I have no clue, so we’re doing our Ultra Secret Backup Plan right now.”

     “Bit of a flowery name.”

     “It’s a nickname for our Super Duper Ultra Special Top Secret In Case Of Mega Emergency Backup Plan,” the Eevee explained. “I came up with the name myself.”

     “I see,” the Delphox coolly replied. “And what does that entail?”

     “We just drop all the pretense. Characters, relationships between them, everything. We were originally going to pose as competing business owners with me being the big cheese, but since we clearly don’t know what’s going on anymore, everyone’s playing themselves. It’s way easier than trying to work on your own and possibly clashing with someone else’s idea.”

     “What’s wrong with just standing up and saying something went wrong and you need to work it out?”

     “You mean retconning. Absolutely not,” Eva firmly stated, almost like the suggestion offended her. “We have a show to put on. My dad never admitted to on-stage mistakes and even if he did, he knew exactly how to roll with it and make sure things don’t get interrupted. I’m not stopping anything for any reason. Period.”

     Kit blinked. “And what about the actual case at hand?”

     “I’m going to have to work on that in a minute, then circulate it to everyone else. Probably need to get that medic to help me as well or something,” Eva muttered. “What a mess, I wasn’t even supposed to die that way.”

     Kit’s ear twitched. “You weren’t?”

     “Not in my version of the script at any rate. The whole Jolteon thing was an idea I had before, but I scrapped it a while ago just due to the possible danger. I wanted to have Ms. Green pretend to poison me tonight but I guess someone gave the old version to the organizers here and that’s what we set up so...”

     “That seems like a pretty big thing to mix up,” Kit stated.

     The Eevee sighed. “Yeah, you’re telling me. We switched off of it because everyone kept going, ‘oh, Eva, you really shouldn’t be doing stuff this dangerous, that’s what Ms. Black is for, are you suuuuuuuuure you want to do this?’ Of course I’m sure! I’m not volunteering because I actually want to die or anything! Seriously...”

     Kit flinched and his head snapped up, his lone emerald eye staring narrowly into the distance.

     Eva took another bite of cake and curiously looked at him. “What’s up with you?”

     “Oh, uh, nothing. Just thought I heard something,” Kit apologized, tapping his head. “Happens all the time with psychics.”

     “Does it now.”

     “At least those of my skill level,” the Delphox replied as he excused himself from the table. “I’ll keep this all between us for now, as a courtesy. Don’t want to break anyone else’s immersion or anything.”

     “Appreciate it, I guess,” Eva shrugged. “Sorry for being a drip and everything, just...what a mess.”

     “Could have been worse.”

     “Not sure how,” the Eevee sighed. “But thanks for talking with me anyway. Good luck with the case. What little of it there is.”

     Kit nodded and turned around before muttering under his breath. “More than you know.”

Emilia Reptilia scribbled another note and itched her head with her pen. “So you two are in charge of all of the stunts, essentially?”

     The Espeon and Umbreon nodded almost synchronously. “Yep. We probably work together more than anyone else,” Ms. Lavender happily explained. “Mr. and Mrs. Blue build the props and gadgets...”

     “And I’m the one who actually gets to play with them,” Ms. Black proudly boasted. “And if anything goes amiss, my sister here can sense it and alert me.”

     The Salazzle nodded, and then paused. “Wait, so you’re really the only one doing anything possibly dangerous most of the time?”

     “I guess,” Ms. Black shrugged, sipping some water. “Honestly everyone’s taken a turn at some point during our history, but if there’s something especially dangerous, I get called up for it.”

     “So then...why Eva tonight?” Emilia asked.

     “She insisted,” Ms. Lavender and Ms. Black answered together.

     “Normally she’s banned from doing anything that could get her hurt,” Ms. Lavender stated. “She’s the leader after all and still really young comparatively.”

     “But when we got word from the Ministry of Finance that they wanted us to perform for them, she got this whole murder mystery idea in her head and demanded she play the victim,” Ms. Black continued. “She had about a hundred ideas on how she wanted this to go down too. There were rewrites, rewrites for the rewrites, edits, versioning, it was crazy.”

     “Sounds like,” Emilia muttered. “Sorry to hear about it.”

     “No need to be sorry,” Ms. Lavender smiled back. “Stuff like this happens sometimes. If anything, I feel a bit bad for Mr. Blue. He’s had to make all sorts of stuff that he didn’t need to. Can’t imagine that was fun for him.”

     “But now we have things on hand for future performances, and I got to give our niece a crash course in stunt work,” Ms. Black chimed in. “Everyone wins at least a little.”

     “For this stunt in particular?” the Salazzle inquired.

     “She had so many thoughts on how she wanted to ‘die’ and so little turnaround for this event that I had to cover as many as I could,” the Umbreon said with a sigh. “We’re lucky this was one of them.”

     Emilia’s pen stopped moving and her eyes narrowed. “What does ‘we’re lucky’ mean?”

     Ms. Lavender scowled a little at her sister. “Do you read your sentences back to yourself before saying them?”

     “Sorry, but am I wrong?” Ms. Black snapped back.

     The Espeon frowned and turned back to Emilia. “Forgive my sister’s out of character remarks. I’d appreciate you disregarding them for the purposes of this case, Miss Reptilia.”

     The Salazzle’s tongue flipped in and out of her mouth for a second, then she shrugged and scratched something out of her notebook.

Titus sat down in the middle of the crowded floor, then took a deep breath and shut his eyes. His ears twitched and turned and rotated, seemingly randomly to an untrained eye.

     “...are we doing here anyway...”

     “...kinda lame, but I guess we don’t really...”

     “...prints on the murder weapon?”

     “...this whole thing looks like amateur hour doesn’t it?”

     His ears halted.

     “I mean, it’s kinda neat. Experimental.”

     “Okay, yeah, fine, but...I don’t know, Hesh. I’ve seen The Eons put on plays before and this just feels...off.”

     “You’re also the biggest theater nut on the force. Come on, dude, dial it back a bit. There’s gonna be some imperfections.”

     “...alright, fine. What’s the report say about...”

     The ears flicked around some more, then stopped again.

     “...did Titus do to get on the fast track for this anyways?”

     “Don’t be like that, man. He’s good at what he does.”

     “What, he’s been on the force for just a few years and he’s gotten a transfer to Major Crimes and now two promotions? Is the chief a relative of his or something?”

     “You know he isn’t. What’s up with you?”

     “I’m saying the game’s rigged. I’ve been working the beat more than twice as long as he has and I don’t think anyone’s ever brought up a supervisor role to me. What’s the point of experience if it’s not going to count for anything? What’s he doing that I’m not, eh?”

     “Titus?”

     The Mightyena gasped and his eyes snapped open.

     “You okay?”

     Titus steadied his breath and looked at the Delphox that had approached him. “Yeah. Sorry, I was...tuned in to something.”

     “You looked like you were meditating,” Kit noted as he crossed his arms.

     “Not quite,” Titus explained. “I was trying to listen in on the other teams, see if they had anything that your assistant and I don’t yet.”

     “And you can do that with all the noise in here and everything?”

     “Mightyenas like myself can pick up audio cues from family members miles away. With a little practice, it’s not too hard to use our hearing to hone in on something specific.”

     “Seems useful,” Kit replied. “Don’t say that around Emilia though. She’ll eat up the rest of the night asking you things.”

     “Duly noted, Detective,” Titus chuckled. “Can I help you with something? I thought you were doing your own thing tonight.”

     Kit turned to face the other detective directly, a deep green eye staring at the Mightyena coldly. “I need to tell you something, but it absolutely cannot be shared with anyone besides my colleagues and Major Crimes.”

     Titus’ expression quickly transitioned from friendly to serious in turn. “There’s something wrong, isn’t there.”

     “I can’t prove anything yet,” Kit sternly qualified.

     “Confidence?”

     “No less than fifty percent.”

     Titus sighed and nodded towards an empty table. “Let’s hear it then.”

Eva flopped onto her right side again as a charged quill buried itself in the fluffy cream-colored collar.

     Javi back down at the forensic report and grumbled. “No, no, zorro, you keep messing up the angle.”

     “You’re welcome to try this yourself if you want to, you...” Loge wanted to finish that sentence in the Hawlucha’s native tongue, then realized that not only was his sole language Arcean, but also insulting the police detective was probably not smart regardless. He growled under his breath and rewound the scene. The illusory Eevee stood back up and the incorporeal quill removed itself from her fur before zipping back up towards the wall it seemingly flew in from.

     “We’re just trying to help, Not-Detective,” Luka replied. “I’d try moving the launching point up a bit more, we’re hitting her too low.”

     Javi peered over his shoulder and noticing a good number of the other officers watching them work. “Looks like we’re getting attention from some of the other teams.”

     “Do I count?” Kit asked as he approached the duo, with Titus following shortly behind. “Sorry, I had to consult with the almost sergeant here on something.”

     “Uh oh, I don’t like how you said that,” the Zoroark remarked, with a little too much singsong in his tenor for Kit’s liking. “What’s wrong now?”

     “I’ll expla...” Kit paused when he saw Eva blankly staring and politely smiling at him from the stage. “...is she okay?”

     “Hm? Oh, that!” Loge grinned toothily as he strutted over to her. “The latest in crime recreation technology, Kit! I’m still working on a name but Loge-a-vision has a ring to it.”

     “Does it now,” the Delphox asked, unmoved.

     The Lucario shrugged. “It’s his idea. Only fair he gets to name it.”

     “I sat Eva down exactly where she was when she got hit by the Jolteon quill and Javi and I have been trying to trace its trajectory back to where it was launched. All illusion based on my end, so no need for volunteers to get hurt, plus it gives me an excuse to slip in a second or third dinner afterward! Neat, huh?” Loge proudly leaned on Eva’s head, then remembered she was incorporeal about halfway through his fall.

     “What’s your working theory for the quill, if I can ask?” Kit inquired.

     “We’re still not completely sure yet,” Luka replied. “A quick analysis of the quill indicates more than one person was in close contact with it, one of them of course being Mr. Yellow. I’d need to meet with the rest of The Eons before I can say anything definitive however.”

     “So until then, we’re figuring out where it came from,” added Javi. “We haven’t found anything capable of firing it from the general direction it came from, so our best guess is the Espeon did something to it.”

     Kit peered in the general direction of the quill’s origin. There was not much to notice apart from the large decorative wooden wall. Apart from a few slight irregularities in the planks – a hole here, a deformation there – the combination of oak and redwood tessellated itself rather elegantly to form the official seal of Silver Coast.

     The Delphox’s eye narrowed. “Sergeant?”

     “I think we agreed on Almost-Sergeant for the night, Kit,” the Mightyena corrected.

     “Do you remember what you said at the firm when you were talking about Eva and The Eons? And this event specifically?”

     “Let me think...I was chatting them up, describing what they were good at, they were managing this event, playing as suspects...”

     He flinched.

     Javi’s attention turned towards his partner. “Titus?”

     “And planting evidence,” Titus finished, and turned to the Hawlucha. “Javi, it’s in the wall!”

     “What’s in the wall?” Loge asked.

     “¡Nuestra arma homicida!” Javi replied, smiling widely and punching his fist. “Where do we dig?”

     “Uh, uh, uh...!” the Zoroark panicked a little and ran off stage. He quickly replayed the incident for everyone.

     Luka watched the wall for the quill to fly out, and pointed in the rough area of where it did. “Right around there, Detec...”

     “Aha!” Javi yelled with a laugh as he leapt towards the wall. Two forward flips later, he began to descend, a foot raised and ready to strike the section the Delphox indicated. A mighty CRASH reverberated off the department’s walls as the Hawlucha’s High Jump Kick impacted the artistic crest. Another laugh and a high-flying triple backflip later, he landed elegantly on top of what would have been Titus’ desk during normal working hours. Javi took a rose out from a celebratory bouquet someone left on it and slipped it in between his teeth, posing like he just finished a tango.

     “¡Olé!”

     Titus stared flabbergasted at the newly punctured wall, jaw agape.

     Kit blinked at it, his gaze a bit wider than usual.

     “...tive,” Luka finished.

     Loge scratched his head and turned to Javi. “...yeah, I was just gonna ask if someone had a hammer.”

     “What was that now, zo...” Javi stopped when he turned his head and saw a throng of enraged police officers leering at him.

     The rose rolled out of his mouth. “Ah.”

     “What is wrong with you, Javi?” a Purugly patrol officer yelled.

     “Blimey, that thing was a work of art, I tells ye!” a Stoutland scolded.

     “Didn’t the chief yell at you about this already?” a Corviknight demanded, flapping his wings.

     “¡A-ah, discúlpeme, discúlpeme! I had probable cause!” Javi panicked defensively. “K-Kit, sí? Please tell me I didn’t deface the department’s interior design for nothing!”

     The Delphox walked closer to the wall and looked up towards the hole the Hawlucha made. His eye narrowed as he saw a metallic glint in the light, and he took the enchanted poplar branch from his crimson fur sleeves. With a swipe against his arm the branch caught fire as he levitated it up towards the hole. The amber glow illuminated a crossbow-like device hidden between the wall and the stone exterior, fixed to the wooden stud by a few nails and aimed in the vicinity of the fake Eva.

     Javi’s face lit up again as it slowly dawned on him he was actually going to live. “Ha...haha, see? Perfectly reasonable! I always know exactly what I’m doing!”

     The officers muttered to themselves some more.

     “Fine, but you’re repairing it,” the Purugly hissed.

     “Cap’n Fluffyface is gonna have yer case for months,” the Stoutland shook his head.

     “Someone slip a Captura Orb in his office when he does,” the Corviknight suggested.

     Kit watched the other guards filter out, and then motioned for Loge and Luka to come over.

     The Zoroark jogged over to his friend and looked up at the machine. “Well, that’d do it. You can probably fire a quill through the gaps in...”

     “When there’s enough people not looking, I want you to do your show again,” Kit interrupted.

     Loge raised an eyebrow. “Okay, but why can’t we just do it now?”

     “You’ll see.”

     Loge stared at his friend for a second, then sighed and got ready to set things back up, this time lining up the quill with the device in the wall.

     “I don’t suppose this has to do with your conference with Corporal Titus earlier?” Luka asked politely.

     Kit heaved a sigh and turned to watch the show. “It does. I’m hoping I’m wrong.”

     Javi slowly paced back over to Titus and patted his head. “Well, it all ended fine in the end, eh Titus? Haha!”

     “What did you do?” Titus asked, his stare still fixed on the wall and its latest addition.

     “Solved a mystery! Standard police stuff.”

     A plank clattered onto the floor.

     “...it’ll buff out.”

     “The chief’s gonna take my promotion away before I even get it,” the Mightyena squeaked.

     “I’m taking the rap for this, amigo. You have nothing to...”

     A lightning bolt zipped over Javi’s head and struck Eva.

     “¡Madre de Arceus, zorro! Watch where you’re shooting!”

     “Sorry!” Loge sheepishly apologized.

     The Hawlucha rubbed his head to check for burns. “Ayayay, at least we have more accurate data for Eva I guess,” he moaned as he turned around to inspect the illusion.

     He froze. “T...Titus?”

     “What, Javi?” he quietly replied.

     “Turn around...”

     The Mightyena did. His eyes widened, but more out of intrigue than shock.

     Loge and Luka walked over to the two police detectives and stopped as soon as they saw Eva. Loge could not get much of a reaction mustered beyond a soft “...oh.”

     “Like I thought,” the Delphox stated. “When Eva was giving her speech and Loge cut her off, her posture changed. She stood up to figure out who interrupted her. So when the launcher fired, it caught her in the neck, where her fur would have absorbed most of the impact and the shock. And now we know where it was aiming.”

     Before the five of them laid Eva’s illusion, a sharp Jolteon quill lodged into the side of her head.

     Kit crossed his arms and peered up at his colleagues. “Eva was supposed to die tonight. And not just theatrically.”

Emilia Reptilia scribbled one last note and itched the side of her head with her pen. “So...just to make sure I’ve got it all straight, Eva is the youngest between herself, Mr. Red, Mr. Yellow, and Mrs. Blue, who’s married to Mr. Blue, Ms. Black and Ms. Lavender are her aunts...”

     “You’ve got it!” Mr. Pink nodded enthusiastically. “Meanwhile, I’m the fun loving uncle of the bunch and Ms. Green here is...”

     “Choof!”

     “...still sneezing,” the Sylveon finished. One of his ribbons scooted a pile of napkins the Leafeon’s way.

     “Caught a cold?” Emilia asked.

     Ms. Green shook her head. “Allergies. I’ll be fine.” She took a napkin and rubbed her nose with it.

     The Salazzle’s tongue flipped in and out of her mouth for a moment, and then she said, “You’re not allergic to...”

     “I’m not allergic to myself,” Ms. Green preemptively answered. “Just grass.”

     The other two Pokémon at the table blinked back at her.

     “You know what I choof!” she sneezed. “...mean.”

     “You took your medicine, right?” Mr. Pink asked. “Wouldn’t be the first time you forgot.”

     “I never forget it before a show. You know that,” the Leafeon defensively sniffled. “Never had it just not work like this bechoof!”

     Emilia flipped to a new page and tried to change the subject. “What do you guys do for the troupe?”

     “I’m our art department,” Mr. Pink replied. “If anyone needs a basic prop made or a set painted or a lighting piece rigged, I’m the person to see.”

     “You do look like you’re one of the more dexterous members of the family,” the reporter commented.

     “You might say that!” Mr. Pink beamed with a flourish of ribbons.

     Ms. Green finished with a napkin and set it aside. “I do more of the practical effects for us. If anyone needs makeup or something needs to happen at a certain time, I’m the one...”

     She paused.

     Emilia halted her scrawls. “The one who...?”

     “The one to...” She leaned her head back.

     A few tense seconds passed.

     Ms. Green finally eased up and smiled with relief. “I’m the one to choof! Curse me!”

     “Bless you,” Emilia politely refused. “But I think I get it. Special effects, essentially.”

     “Y-yes, that exactly,” confirmed the Leafeon. “Also sometimes I get asked to prepare something more...specific to our scripts.”

     “Such as?”

     Mr. Pink offered an encouraging grin to his sibling. “Mind if we show her? A little behind the scenes look never hurt anyone.”

     Ms. Green smiled weakly through her allergies. “Go ahead.”

     Mr. Pink reached a ribbon into her satchel. “I assume we’re off the record?”

     “Of course,” Emilia smiled, and flipped her notebook shut and placed it on the table. The Sylveon extracted a small vial of white powder and set it on the table.

     “I have a thing for chemistry, and I formulated this mock poison myself,” Ms. Green commented. “Tasteless, odorless, dissolves instantly in water. And perfectly safe as presented.”

     “As presented?” the Salazzle repeated, an eyebrow raised.

     “Much in the same way pure sodium and chlorine are lethal on their own but table salt is not,” Ms. Green explained further. “We wanted a compound that would test positive for common poisons but would be completely – choof! - harmless despite that.”

     “Funny story, actually. My sister came up with this lovely little invention for this event specifically!” Mr. Pink chuckled. “We never got around to deploying it, as you can see, but it was one of the methods she considered during the drafting process.”

     “Neat!” Emilia nodded. “Though...I guess I’m a little confused. Why would you bring this along for the show if Mr. Yellow’s quill was going to be the murder weapon?”

     The Leafeon and Sylveon glanced nervously at each other, and Mr. Pink cleared his throat. “Well, if you’re willing to keep this a secret still...”

     “There you two are!” a voice barked from in front of her. Her gaze snapped back up and she noticed a Flareon marching towards the interviewer and her two interviewees.

     “Evening, Red!” Mr. Pink cheerfully greeted. “Is this what I think it’s about?”

     Mr. Red nodded. “Yeah, all hands on deck in Conference Room 1. You were the last ones I had to find.”

     The Leafeon stepped out of her seat and bowed apologetically to Emilia. “Sorry to cut our meeting short, Miss choof!”

     “Miss Reptilia,” Emilia corrected. “We can pick this back up when you get back, alright?”

     “We’ll look forward to it,” Mr. Pink beamed as he hopped up and followed Mr. Red off towards their meeting.

     Emilia scooped her notebook off the table and promptly scampered off to find her other companions.

“This is nuts, this is nuts, this is nuts, this is nuts, this is...”

     “We get it, Loge.”

     “How can you be so calm about all of this?” the Zoroark loudly demanded as he followed the Delphox around the party floor. “Like, like like, someone could have died a few minutes ago! How are you not, like, rattled or...”

     “Because that’s not something I’m allowed to do,” Kit interrupted. “And keep your voice down. We don’t want anyone overhearing this right now.”

     “Who’s going to hear me, a cop?” Loge shouted. “Oh no, someone qualified to handle crimes and investigate them might learn there was an attempted murder. Definitely don’t want them involved in any of this!”

     “Loge, you need to...”

     “What, chill out? This isn’t what I signed up for and you know it!”

     “We don’t know who the culprit is, and for all you know at this point it could be one of the police,” Kit sternly stated, leering over his shoulder. “The only thing going for us right now is that only a handful of people know what’s really going on, and that advantage is going out the window if you don’t shut your yap.”

     Loge’s stride slowly came to a halt.

     Kit stopped shortly afterward, and sighed a little. “Look, if I went off a bit there then I’m...”

     “I’m done.”

     The Delphox blinked. “Done with what?”

     “I’m done,” Loge repeated. “I can’t handle this.”

     Kit stared back at him. “What’s wrong?”

     “I know what you’re going to say,” Loge replied, his head hung. “Something like, ‘Get a grip, Loge. You’ve been through worse, like that Black Forest case a while ago. Surely you can handle one near-miss murder mystery. Sometimes that’s just what you get called up for in my line of work.’ And earlier today, I thought I could handle that too. You gotta be ready for anything after all, right?”

     “Something like that.”

     Loge heaved a heavy unsteady sigh. “Yeah...well, there’s something...different when you see something like this in person. I can handle disappearances and haunted places and vandalism and heists and whatever else but...but when I reenacted what should have happened earlier tonight on that stage, I...”

     He clenched a fist. It trembled slightly.

     “It felt like we came an inch away from disaster, Kit. Someone almost lost their life and everyone would have just been watching it happen with no idea how or why or who or anything.” He forced a laugh. “Arceus, look at me. I’m a wreck just from this alone. Can you imagine what I’d be like if things actually went to plan for whoever we’re chasing?”

     The Delphox remained silent.

     “We’re just built different. Emilia can say I have street smarts and a good intuition and whatever, but you’re better just about everywhere else...heheh...it’s kinda funny. The guy who got picked on in school for being a glorified plank has got me beat in the emotional intelligence department of all things.”

     The Zoroark laughed again and looked back up, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. “So, with that in mind, I’ll save you the trouble of rejecting me and retract my application.”

     “Loge, calm down...”

     “I’m the calmest I’ve ever been,” Loge replied with a disappointed smile. “You need a certain mindset to be a detective and I don’t have it. Simple as. I’ll still be around if you need a best friend though?”

     “You still need to find work. For your parents, right?”

     Loge shrugged. “I’ll keep at it. And if they ship me off, we’ll just have to stay in touch. It’s not like Oaksbane is on the other half of The Worldspine or anything. We can probably still visit.” He forced a toothy grin.

     Kit had nothing to say.

     “...but I’m not going to make you hire me if I’m not right for the job. That’s not fair for either of us.” The Zoroark spun on one foot and started walking back to the food tables. “I’ll leave you to it, foxy. You know where to find me.”

     The Delphox stood still for a few seconds, then heaved a sigh and continued on his way.

     Loge picked up a plate and tried to hold a forced, pained smile.

Eva let out another frustrated huff as she hurriedly paced for the conference room. She was tired. Spent. Exhausted. And she still had the entire reveal for this entire shambles masquerading as live entertainment to plan and execute with eight people she was not thrilled to be working with right now.

     Three of them stepped out of a side hallway and joined her. “You doing okay, Eva?” Mr. Red asked quietly. “How does the...”

     “I’m perfectly fine, Red, thank you very kindly,” the Eevee preempted.

     Mr. Pink was taken aback somewhat by his niece’s tenor. “Eva, dear, I know you’re jammed up about this whole event and it feels like nothing is going right tonight, but it’s times like this that you need to put on a strong face and step up as a leader. Your dad was an expert at making proverbial lemonade when we were working with him.”

     Eva shook her head. “Uncle, I know you’re trying to help and all, but there’s more to making lemonade than just lemons. Like sugar. There has to be something for us to build off of, right? What do we have?”

     Ms. Green glanced over at her brother. “Well, we have the...ah...ah...!”

     Mr. Pink held a ribbon to her nose and used another to excavate the vial of powder from his bag. “We prepared this for the evening. We were planning on using it after the introduction tonight but...”

     “Yeah, yeah, I remember it,” Eva rolled her eyes. “I only wrote the entire thing. What are we doing with it though? I’m already dead, remember?”

     Mr. Red thought for a second. “Maybe we can do, like, a fake-out sort of deal? The assailant didn’t finish the job with Mr. Yellow’s quill and so...”

     “No, absolutely no retcons,” the Eevee butted in again. “It’s unfair to the audience and the detectives working my...I mean, our case.”

     The Sylveon’s eyebrow raised a little. “Are you sure everything is alright?”

     “Ask me that one more time and I will Double-Edge you so hard you devolve!”

     Mr. Pink’s eyes widened, and then he chuckled to himself. It was good to see Eva riled up like this; it meant she was taking her job seriously. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a smile.

     The quartet approached the conference room, but slowed down as they saw the Blue couple talking with a Lucario and Mightyena outside the door. Eva sighed again. Another obstacle. The exact opposite of what she needed right now.

     “...either way, I hope it’s nothing too serious,” the Glaceon worriedly stated.

     “We assure you it isn’t,” the Lucario consoled. “And we thank you for your cooperation.”

     “Best of luck, Detective!” Mrs. Blue beamed as she and Mr. Blue entered the conference room.

     Eva marched up and sat down in front of the door. “What’s going on now?” she demanded.

     “Sorry for the interruption,” the Mightyena bowed. “Detective Titus, SCPD. Someone has had their bag stolen from the party floor and we’re trying to look for the culprit.”

     “Oh dear,” exclaimed Ms. Green. “Nothing valuable in it, I hope.”

     “We can't really say without violating privacy,” Titus replied. “But if you’ve seen any suspicious activity, my partner and I would appreciate any accounts you may have.”

     Mr. Pink glanced at the Lucario curiously, and noticed Titus had something hanging around his neck that he was lacking. “Are you an officer yourself, Mr. Lucario?”

     “It would hardly do if every officer in the department had their badge out at all times,” he stoically answered.

     “Ah. I suppose not,” the Sylveon nodded. “Well, sadly, I’ve been mingling about the party hall with the various guests in character up to now, so if someone’s property was stolen, I didn’t notice it.”

     “Me neither,” the Leafeon shook her head. “But we’re happy to keep a – choof! – eye out if you want.”

     “That would be excellent, thank you,” Titus smiled. “Sorry for holding you up.”

     “You’re solving a crime, it’s no trouble at all,” Mr. Red responded. The Lucario pushed open the door for him to walk through.

     “Thanks,” Eva quietly mumbled as she followed her brother in.

     Ms. Green sniffled and nodded to the two officers.

     Mr. Pink bowed politely and entered the room as well. As the door closed, he peered over his shoulder curiously.

     He caught a glimpse of the Lucario’s eyes glowing gold.

Loge’s mountain of food gradually lost height as Loge continued to dig into it with myriad crunches and snaps and snarfs and gulps. He found a table in the corner of the party hall that nobody was paying much attention to, and decided to make that his new home for the night. He did not know what Kit or Titus or anyone else was up to, nor did he really care at the moment. He had enough of his own troubles for now. They needed fixing. Or they normally would. But after seeing what happened with his experiment and what could have happened in front of tens of officers, in front of his friends, in front of himself, he knew he was not going to be of further help. He was not fixing anything tonight.

     And whatever he could not fix, he buried. A number of passing officers and other guests glanced at the Zoroark wolfing down a pile of food nearly as tall as he was. If he noticed them, it failed to register. They muttered a few words of confusion and concern as they passed by. If he heard them, it failed to register. The plate itself towered with just about any snack, pastry, dessert, fruit, vegetable, or anything else one could think of. If he was tasting any of them, it failed to register.

     He was too busy to notice any of it. He had problems to fix. To bury.

     He nabbed a water cup and downed about two-thirds of it in one swig before he slammed it back down onto the table and finally saw someone he recognized.

     Emilia Reptilia was standing next to the table, peering up at the snack pile before her. “What’s all this about?”

     “I’m working,” Loge grumbled back, jamming a handful of crackers into his mouth.

     The Salazzle crossed her arms. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

     “Leave me alone, Emilia,” he quietly demanded.

     Emilia blinked. She thought about pulling up a chair for a moment, and then decided to stay standing. “Is...everything alright?”

     “It will be,” the Zoroark tersely stated as he ripped a croissant in half with his fangs.

     Emilia frowned. “Loge, I know we haven’t known each other that long but this is the first time I’ve seen you eat angrily.”

     A slice of chocolate cake vanished into the maw.

     “...Loge? Talk to me.”

     A few carrots and celery sticks.

     “Loge!”

     Something slathered in ketchup.

     Emilia reached across and scooted his plate out of reach.

     Loge leaned over and grabbed it with both hands. He glared at the Salazzle, growling, teeth bared. “Let go of it.”

     “Not until you talk with me,” she sharply retorted, pulling back.

     “I don’t...want to!” Loge snarled with a yank of his own.

     “Why...not?” hissed Emilia. The tower of snacks wobbled.

     “Because I’m done!”

     “Done with what?”

     “Myself!” Loge hollered as he heaved again. The plate slipped out of Emilia’s grasp and Loge fell backwards in his chair. The plate’s contents flew into the air and fell onto him, splattering the Zoroark in icing and sauce and condiments, while creating an enormous mess on the police department floor in addition.

     The Salazzle scrambled over to Loge, and saw him splayed out on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. “Oh Necrozma, Loge, are you alright?”

     “You were right about me being a mooch,” he quietly replied.

     Emilia blinked. “Is that what’s going on still? I told you...”

     “I’m not a mooch, yeah, I know,” Loge interrupted. “But I am something worse though. I thought about it before you came by.”

     The Salazzle stooped down and tried to soften her tone. “Did something happen with Kit?”

     “I’m a fraud, Emilia.”

     She shook her head. “You’re not a...”

     “Don’t say it, we both know I’m right,” Loge cut her off again. He kept staring at the ceiling. “I thought I could hack it with Kit in the whole mystery-solving thing and realized that I wasn’t gonna handle it when things got tough. When the parents told me they were moving the lumber mill out of Silver Coast and over to Oaksbane, I stayed put because moving to a new house was going to be harder than just staying here. I kept putting off finding a job because I could just use the family fortune to keep myself going until I saw something I liked. When I was in school, I didn’t study or get good grades because I had sports to play and Kit could just help me turn in assignments when I saw him. Every step of the way, I’ve been riding someone’s coattails and picking the easy way out. What else am I supposed to call myself? I’m not successful; everyone else around me is and I grab whatever leftover pieces of their success that I can. At least mooches can say they don’t know any better.”

     He slowly picked a cookie off the ground. “My dad got angry at me one day after failing an exam for the third time in a row. He yelled and yelled at me until my mom had to take him back to the kitchen to get him to calm down. You know what I heard him say right before the door shut and the room got quiet?”

     He looked at the pastry blankly. “He said, ‘I swear, eating is the only thing that boy is good at.’”

     Loge forced a chuckle and opened his mouth. “He’s not wrong.”

     A black streak blurred in front of him, and he noticed that his hand had been vacated. He turned his head to the side and saw the cookie roll down Emilia’s tail. She flicked it, and the cookie popped itself into the air and landed in her hand.

     She took an aggressive chomp out of it and leered at her roommate. “So what if he isn’t?”

     “Emilia, I...” Loge sighed. “I just want to do something well.”

     “You already are, if you’d slow down for once and look at what you’ve done,” the Salazzle scolded. “And even besides that, nobody is demanding you impress them all the time. Not your dad, not your teachers, not Kit, not even me. You know what I care about? I care about people. And I care about the stories they share. And not every single one needs to be about how they became a millionaire by starting a lumber business or how they started up a small private eye firm or anything like that. They’re successful, yeah, but they’re successful by their own metrics.”

     Emilia reached up for a napkin and handed it to Loge. “You are not a fraud, Loge. But you’re looking at people you think are doing better than you and then putting yourself down when you’re not matching their pace. Nobody wants you to do that.”

     Loge slowly took the napkin, and the Salazzle smiled encouragingly back. “The only thing we do want you do is be authentic. And that’s something you absolutely do better than anyone else I’ve met.”

     The Zoroark silently peered back at her, then smiled weakly back and started to clean his face off.

Kit was in the middle of the part of the job he despised most. It was the part where there was nothing to do while everything else happened around him. Luka was off trying to sample auras so he could sort out who was involved with the quill and the launcher. Titus had to keep an eye on wherever The Eons and more specifically Eva in case someone tried to make a second move on her. And what in the world happened to Emilia? She was interviewing everybody under the sun, especially the other eight members of Eva’s troupe, and now she had practically vanished from the premises altogether.

     He peered up and checked the ceiling just to make sure. No Salazzle to be seen.

     “What are we looking for?” came a voice from in front of him.

     “At this point, anything,” the Delphox sighed, then sat up and turned to Javi. “Did that launcher turn up anything?”

     “Looked like it was on a timer of some sort,” the Hawlucha stated. “Launcher was aimed, loaded, set for six thirty-three and then boarded back up. Then all Eva had to do was hit her marks and...well, not do what she did.”

     “...interesting.”

     “So I guess, paso uno, we need to figure out what happened before the show and everything tonight,” Javi continued, helping himself to a seat and flipping a notepad open. “Because this was clearly premeditated, like you said. Eva was not supposed to live.”

     “I’ve been thinking about the scripts up to this point, actually,” Kit replied.

     Javi raised an eyebrow. “Scripts? I thought this was all improvised.”

     “It was supposed to be. And then when Eva noticed no progress was being made during rehearsals, she started writing everything out,” Kit corrected. “Problem was there were too many revisions. It seems like something they’d keep organized given everyone’s experience levels. But according to Eva, there was a clerical error meaning this was the ‘death’ that the police were told to anticipate, even though she wasn’t expecting it herself.”

     “So...let’s say I’m el chico malo,” Javi stated. “Sometime before today, this launcher gets set up in the walls, presumably to be found by someone. It’d either be my troupe or the police department that handles it, but probably the former because we don’t want to hurt Eva and we’ve done the math beforehand.”

     “My thoughts exactly,” Kit agreed. “Then we play out tonight, Eva gets shot, and when the news comes of her actual death, we can just chalk it up to a stage accident. She agreed to the stunt and knew what the risks were when she did. If the murderer’s part of the family, then there would be so much chaos and arguing about this disaster nobody ever thinks about foul play.”

     “And if they’re with us, then they just vanish into the crowd and maybe even just out the door if they wanted.”

     “There’s an issue though,” the Delphox pointed out, adjusting his eye covering. “If everyone’s scripts were in disarray, then I think it would make sense for there to be some blocking issues on stage. Different stage notes, cues, lines, even minor changes would have been visible to viewers in the audience. Eva said there were at least eighty-six different revisions. So why did the opening scene we saw go as smoothly as it did?”

     Javi thought for a moment. “The script for that section would have had to stay the same across revisions?”

     “Correct, but I think there’s more to it,” Kit stated. He took out a notebook of his own, and quickly scribbled something on multiple pages. He then ripped a page out and wrote the word “Quill” on it. He slid the loose page and the notebook towards the center of the table.

     The Hawlucha leaned over to see what he wrote. “...you just doodled on it.”

     “Pretend it’s the script that was supposed to be used tonight,” Kit explained. “And Eva and The Eons are one of the most venerated performing groups around, so you would think they know better than to muck up scripts like this, even with all the variables flying around that we have. So let’s assume they knew what the plan was going to be.”

     “Alright, guess that’s reasonable,” Javi nodded and flipped through a couple pages, until he found one that said “Poison” on it. “And I guess this represents...”

     “The ‘death’ scene, yes,” Kit confirmed, as he held up the loose Quill paper.

     “...so that’s what you think,” Javi replied after a minute.

     Kit slid the Quill paper over the Poison one in the notebook. “There never was a versioning issue. The script was finalized and everyone got a copy. But when they were disbursed earlier in the week, some of them were tampered with. The cause of death specifically. Some of The Eons got the version where Eva gets shot by the Jolteon quill, and the rest got the version where she’s poisoned. And since Eva is the only one who cares about that part and the rest of the script would have been character notes for improv...”

     “Would the topic not have come up during group rehearsals or something?” Javi inquired. “This is a pretty big detail after all, sí? Eva at minimum would have...”

     “Not had time to clear things up,” Kit finished for him as he cleaned up his notebook. “Considering the nightmare that was the runup for this event for her, and that the police department was only shown the final script the day before the show, this tells me this got rushed. I’ll ask Eva, but I’m guessing that, since everything past her death scene would be improv, she only rehearsed the group scenes with everyone. And don’t forget she was cut off; there was probably a lot more to that scene than we saw.”

     A green eye peered up at the Hawlucha. “Put yourself in their shoes; you’ve spent three weeks wrestling with an unruly script and two or three days before the show, you finally have something finished and one if not two giant scenes to block out and practice. Are you going to point out anything that isn’t a critical detail for that part of the show?”

     “I guess not...” Javi muttered to himself. “But then why only mess with some of the scripts? Tricking everyone and keeping them on the same page seems more practical, no?”

     “I’m still working that out,” Kit sighed. He leaned back in his chair, looking back up at the ceiling. “What I really want to do is figure out who set up the launcher. The culprit’s probably spooked since their Plan A failed, though. So we can’t really ask The Eons who was there that day and take their word...”

     Something tapped his left arm, in his blind spot.

     “Hey, foxy,” someone playfully offered.

     He turned his head curiously.    

     Loge tiredly smiled back, holding a clipboard out to him. “Need a hand?”

     The Delphox glanced down at the clipboard for a second, then peered back up at the Zoroark. “I thought you were throwing in the towel.”

     “Yeah...yeah, same,” Loge sighed. There was a pause. “You, uh...wanna hear the story?”

Emilia Reptilia flinched violently and yelled, “She almost got murdered?!?”

     Loge promptly clamped his hands around the Salazzle’s snout. “Don’t yell that!” he whispered. “We’re the only people that know about it.”

     Emilia nodded and tried to make a remark. She ended up sounding like someone was polishing a window.

     “Yeah, Kit said something similar.”

     The Salazzle mumbled a question.

     Loge sighed. “I wish. Kit found that launcher thing in the wall and, well...”

     Emilia held up her notebook and asked a third thing through her gag.

     The Zoroark released her mouth and sat back in his chair. “Sure, if you want.”

     “Thanks!” the Salazzle smiled as she flipped through her pages. “I’m not sure how helpful it’ll be, but I figured the other half of murder mysteries is suspect interrogation, so I made sure I talked to everyone in The Eons for their input on things.”

     “You get anything useful out of it?” asked Loge as he reclined in his chair and popped a piece of chocolate in his mouth.

     “Depends on your definition of useful, honestly,” the reporter sheepishly admitted. “And I’m not sure how much of it is actionable either...”

     “Kit said something about Eva’s Ultra Secret Backup Plan. I think in case of emergency, everyone drops their character notes and just plays themselves.”

     “I see,” Emilia quietly noted. “Makes sense given what people have told me. She’s stubborn on the whole ‘show must go on’ thing.”

     “Anyone catch your eye?”

     “Nothing that ties into the crime scene, if that’s the question,” the Salazzle said, shaking her head. “But a lot of the family doesn’t really approve of how she’s running things. Not to mention there’s maybe a little resentment over her being chosen for the leadership.”

     “That’s not a lot, is it...” Loge frowned.

     “I’d bet Kit can do something with it though,” Emilia encouraged, as she stood up and spun her pen in her hand. “Come on, we’ll...”

     Loge stayed sitting.

     “...you’re coming, right?”

     “Yeah, I am,” the Zoroark nodded, resting his head in his hand. “I...just kinda embarrassed myself in front of him. This whole case got too real too quick when I was working my magic earlier and...”

     “That’s how this whole thing started?” Emilia finished.

     “Something like that.”

     The Salazzle knelt down and smiled again. “You made one of the most important discoveries of this entire case. It was something nobody else, not even Kit, could have shown off. We would not have had any way to confirm his deductions without you. You’ve done more than enough tonight.”

     “I know, I know,” Loge replied. “But...I don’t know, it’d be nice if I had a way to show him I’m not completely useless now.”

     “I can see if Kecleon’s is still open? Get some apology flowers for you?”

     “Very funny,” Loge chuckled, and slid his food-stained copy of the forensic report back over to him. “He’s more...practical I guess. I drew pictures in school and he did math puzzles and stuff like that.”

     “...you want to give him something he can actually work with on this case.”

     “Yeah, exactly,” the Zoroark agreed. He turned to the report and started scouring it again. “Probably easier said than done though. I’m not even sure where I can start. He’s already thought of everything...”

     “I wouldn’t say that,” Emilia consoled as she sat back down next to him. “Even Kit has his blind spots.”

     Loge snorted and stifled a laugh.

     Emilia needed a second to realize what she said, and then visibly blushed. “That’s not what I meant. That is not what I meant!”

     Loge wheezed.

     The Salazzle hurriedly tried to change the subject. “A-anyway, what I was trying to say was to just think about what we talked about earlier. Kit’s good at analyzing facts but we’re better with people, right?”

     “Yeah, but the ‘people’ we have aren’t turning up much, so...”

     Loge never finished his thought.

     Emilia blinked. “What’s wrong?”

     “People.”

     “That’s a little nihilistic.”

     “No, not that!” Loge half-shouted before remembering he had to keep quiet. He reduced himself to a whisper again. “Someone had to set up that device in the wall, right? So someone had to come by with all the parts and everything and put it together.”

     “Obviously.”

     “And they had to come in here, which means they had to come from out there, which means...”

     The Salazzle blinked at the Zoroark’s ramble.

     Loge leaped out of his seat and dashed for the doors.

     “L-Loge, where are you going?” Emilia hollered as she chased after him, notebook in hand.

Riley dragged herself back to the front desk’s chair and collapsed into it. Her head fell onto the desk shortly afterward, smushing her orange and yellow cheek into her face. She released an exhausted exhale as she did. The Raichu had been occupied since the party started – working the desk, summoning Captain Fluffyface, touching up the forensic reports, scrambling to schedule a contractor to fix the aftermath of Javi’s stunt – and she was relieved to finally have some downtime. Police officers like herself treasured the moments where nothing happened, mostly because they had to be on call for anything at any time and be ready to go on a minute’s notice. Finally, she could unwind and...

     Someone slammed their hands on her desk. “Sergeant Rhonda!”

     Riley yelped and snapped her posture right back up to attention. “C-c-can I help you?”

     A widely and toothily grinning Zoroark looked at her straight in the eyes. “Do you have that sign-in clipboard anywhere?”

     “Y-you’re digging your claws into it right now, sir,” she pointed out.

     “Thank you!” he exuberantly replied as he picked it up and started flipping through the individual sheets.

     A Salazzle jogged in and Riley turned her attention to her instead. “What’s all this about?” she asked.

     “Does everyone who comes in here have to sign this?” the Zoroark interrupted.

     “Y-yes,” the Raichu nodded. “I’m not usually at the front desk but policy is to have every visitor check in first. What’s going...”

     “I need to borrow this for a minute!” he demanded before taking back off to the party hall as quickly as he came.

     Riley stood up in her chair and called after him. “B-b-but what if someone comes by?”

     “We’re really sorry about this,” apologized the Salazzle as she ripped out a couple of blank sheets of paper from her notebook and left them on the desk. “Please use those for now. We’ll return it the instant we’re done with it.”

     She dashed off after the Zoroark before Riley could ask anything else. Riley sat back down, staring at the desktop, holding her head in her hands and praying to Arceus that Captain Fluffyface did not have to come back for anything.

“And then we booked it back here and, well, now you’re caught up,” Loge finished.

     Luka and Titus had returned by this point, and the sergeant soon-to-be peered through the sign-in clipboard. “So we can narrow down our suspect pool to whoever set this launcher up then?”

     “It may not be as simple as that,” Kit noted. “There’s a story to be told with this family, and the sooner we figure out what it is, the faster we can sort out who caused this.”

     “May I recommend starting with the quill, Detective?” Luka requested. “It was handled primarily by the Jolteon obviously, but also the Espeon, Umbreon, and Flareon.”

     Titus scanned through the sheets. “...and yesterday, it looks like Ms. Lavender, Ms. Black, Mr. Yellow and Mr. Red all checked in at about the same time.”

     Emilia traced her finger down a page in her almanac. “Ms. Black is the stunt coordinator for the group, and Ms. Lavender is on standby for emergencies. So it makes sense the two would want to go together. Maybe they test fired the rig a few times.”

     “Mr. Yellow has to supply the quill of course, and I guess Eva was doing other things so she sent Mr. Red to supervise,” Javi added. “Making sense so far.”

     “The problem is that Ms. Lavender didn’t really...do anything,” the Salazzle mentioned.

     “Meaning what?” Kit asked.

     “Espeons are good at detecting when something’s about to go wrong,” Emilia explained. “Because their fur is so sensitive it can pick up shifts in stuff like air currents, so they can react to just about anything they need at any point.”

     “Given enough time to actually...figure it out though, right?” asked Loge.

     “I guess, but I’ve noticed they tend to be pretty fast about it,” she admitted. “So that she didn’t do anything when the quill launched would mean...

     “Somebody tampered with it after setup,” Kit stated.

     Everyone else at the table turned to the one-eyed Delphox.

     “Ms. Lavender would have tested and ensured this launcher behaved as expected multiple times before Eva even thought about sitting in front of it. And she would have done so again when she was here earlier with the other Eons setting it up for tonight. She didn’t react because she was never expecting this error to occur in this manner, because why would it?”

     Titus thought about this for a moment. “The launcher was closed off, so she wouldn’t have noticed any changes to its setup if she wasn’t in the room.”

     “And all it took was a small shift in the angle to turn it from a safe stunt into a murder weapon,” Kit concluded. “A miniscule change in something in a closed-off space would have gone right under her nose.” He shut his eyes in thought.

     “We need the aura off of the launcher then,” Luka asserted as he stood up. “Shall I investigate?”

     “Maybe not yet. I don’t think that wouldn’t demonstrate anything in particular,” Emilia pointed out. “Just that someone was handling it, right?”

     Titus grumbled. “I hate this. We know something is wrong. But there’s nothing to suggest any wrongdoing by anyone in particular.”

     “No hard evidence of it at any rate,” Luka nodded.

     The Delphox’s eyes jumped open. “That’s the point.”

     “What’s the point?” Loge asked.

     “There wasn’t supposed to be any evidence.”

     “I mean...if I’m a smart enough criminal to set all this up, I hope I wouldn’t leave any evidence,” Javi commented.

     “Everything leaves evidence,” Kit asserted. “Any time someone goes out of their way to do something, something always gets left behind. And it’s not always physical.”

     “But that’s the problem, isn’t it?” the Mightyena repeated. “There’s nothing in Emilia’s interviews and not much more on stage. So what do we have?”

     “Corporal Titus?”

     Titus turned his attention towards Kit. His green eye sparked in the ambient light.

     “When did anyone say there was nothing in those interviews?”

“No. I flatly refuse,” Eva stated, slamming a paw on the conference table and glaring at Mr. Red. “What did I tell you before we came in here? No retcons!”

     The force was hardly felt by the Flareon sitting next to her. “It’s the cleanest solution we have, even if you don’t like it.”

     “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for...uh, embellishing the tension in the troupe a bit,” Mr. Yellow said, bowing his head. “You said to act what we know and I figured we needed something to build off of with, well, motives and everything and...”

     “For the last time, Yellow, it’s fine,” the Eevee repeated with mounting frustration. “Everyone did what they were supposed to do given the circumstances. Just...ugh, let me think.”

     “I still like pivoting to the poison idea, like we discussed,” Mr. Pink stepped in.

     Eva glared at her uncle.

     “Just making sure my position’s clear,” he defensively added.

     The Umbreon and Espeon finished whispering to each other and Ms. Black turned towards the head of the table where Eva sat. “I hate to say it, but Red and Pink have the right of it.”

     “I can fix this!” Eva shouted.

     “Eva, hear us out,” Ms. Lavender pleaded. “We think you got carried away on this one. This whole thing just got too elaborate. There were so many changes and plans and things to do in such a short timeframe that everyone got lost. To the point where not only was the wrong mechanism set up, and not only did it fire unexpectedly, but half of the troupe had no idea what was about to happen because they got the wrong scripts.”

     Mr. and Mrs. Blue exchanged glances nervously, and then the Glaceon leaned forward a bit. “It’s not that we lack confidence in you or anything, but knowing when to quit and change plans is what improv is all about. That’s what this effectively is, right?”

     “Nobody, either in or out of this room, is going to think less of you. Or the family in general,” the Vaporeon added. “Sometimes things just happen.”

     “And what about Lord Kristofferson?” Eva asked. “This isn’t just another performance. The city is sponsoring this thing, and might even contract us to do this again in future. This is a lot of money and if we give up now...”

     “I’ll handle the Lord Minister if that’s what happens,” Mr. Red cut in. “But that’s not an issue right now. We need to finish the show first. You know this.”

     The Eevee went quiet and stared at the wooden table.

     Mr. Yellow heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry, Eva. At least you tried, right?”

     Ms. Green sneezed again.

     “If nobody’s objecting, then I think we have a consensus,” Mr. Pink noted, then turned to his niece. “Pending your approval, of course.”

     Eva hesitated, like she had more to argue, but she hopped out of her seat and slowly paced towards the door. “Do it. I’m getting some water.”

     “We’ll talk details when you’re back,” the Sylveon said with a weak smile. He patted Eva as she passed behind him.

     The Eevee sighed and pushed the door to the conference room back open. She turned towards the main hall, but stopped as she caught something out of the corner of her eye. She thought she saw someone’s leg, grey and black, duck past a corner down the adjoining hallway.

     She rubbed her eye with the back of her paw, then put it out of her mind and went on her way.

Eva set her water glass down upstage, where the rest of her family was lined up in their standard positions. She stepped up to the microphone and cleared her throat into it, and the party area immediately quieted down in turn. The rest of The Eons faced forward and tried to look professional, despite the knowledge that Eva was in the middle of one of her career’s more humbling moments.

     “Uh, e-evening everyone,” she greeted in an unusually uncharismatic demeanor.

     The crowd murmured a little, curiously.

     “Hi!” Boris cheerfully exclaimed from near the back.

     “Hey,” Eva replied, ears drooped.

     “Aw...”

     “I’m...I’m really sorry about all of this, but...”

     The crowd’s musings escalated a bit more. Eva was not sure what to say. She sniffled a bit.

     Mr. Red walked up to her and whispered into her ear. “Get a drink. I’ll handle this.”

     “Red, I...”

     “It’s fine. Nobody thinks less of you.”

     “...okay,” she sighed and trundled off upstage. Her water glass from the conference room, straw and all, was waiting near Mr. Red’s spot. She sat down and stared at it for a moment.

     “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your interest in our performance,” Mr. Red stated into the microphone. “Unfortunately, we must admit there has been an anomaly in our act up to this point and, as a result, some of the evidence you have been provided is either inaccurate or just invalid.”

     The crowd audibly recoiled.

     “Now what’s that mean then?” the Purugly beat officer shouted.

     “That’s balderdash I tells ye!” barked the Stoutland.

     “I understand, and on behalf of the entirety of Eva and The Eons, we are very sorry for the confusion and misunderstanding,” Mr. Red swiftly added. “This was due to a clerical and organizational problem on our end. We have a solution however.”

     “Yeah...pretty shoddy one,” Eva grumbled under her breath. She scooted her water glass closer to her and repositioned the straw.

     “What kind of solution?” Kristofferson chimed in over the clamor. “I sure hope this doesn’t send the event overbudget. We spent quite a bit on rigging up that bolt launcher for you!”

     “Wait, bolt launcher?” asked an Excadrill.

     “Were we missing evidence?” the Corvinight exclaimed. “Why did we not...”

     The Flareon shook his head. “I know, I know, and that’s why we’ve prepared a Plan B for you ahead of time. We have everything prepared and ready to go, we just need to finish some last-minute directions and notes first.”

     The Eevee went for a drink.

     “Well, when do ye think we can start then?” replied the Stoutland.

     A bolt of purple acid flew in from the side and splattered itself over the end of the straw. The Eevee flinched as she watched the aperture melt away before her. The other Eons were about to gasp in unison again until they collectively remembered that was not the cue.

     Eva looked around in a fluster to figure out what that was. “What was that?” she crossly shouted.

     “Sorry,” a Salazzle shyly apologized as she ran up and nabbed Eva’s water glass in passing. “Need that.”

     “H-hey, that’s my drink!” Eva protested.

     “It is, which is why I strongly recommend you leave it alone,” someone else calmly requested from the party area’s entrance. Just about everyone’s head turned to face its source. A one-eyed Delphox paced onto stage along with a Zoroark, Lucario and...

     “Corporal Titus?” the Purugly stated in surprise.

     “¡Y Javi, muchas gracias!” the Hawlucha promptly corrected.

     The Flareon glanced curiously at the interrupting party. “Mr. Delphox, I don’t know what this is about but...”

     “This is about your star actress’ welfare,” Kit tersely replied. “And moreover your lack of care for it.”

     Mr. Red scowled. “Excuse me?”

     “You’re under arrest for attempted first-degree homicide,” Titus growled.

     Eva’s eyes widened.

     The sea of officers clamored.

     A synchronous “WHAT?!?” came from the other Eons.

     “Wh...choof!...what??” exclaimed Ms. Green.

     “Now now, everyone, no need for alarm,” Mr. Red chortled. “Needless to say, Detectives, you may be jumping the gun. There's no attempted murder here. Well, yet, at any rate.”

     “We’re not in character,” Kit asserted with a glint in his eye. “And you know exactly what we’re talking about.”

     “We’ve decided to ignore what happened earlier today,” Mr. Red replied calmly. “The entire prelude with Mr. Yellow’s quill and everything about it has been discarded. Unorthodox, maybe, but that’s the rule.”

     “Oh, come off of it!” Loge blurted in frustration. “Don’t pretend you...”

     The Delphox put a hand on his shoulder to calm him. “Maybe I should tell the story?”

     Loge paused, then backed down. “Uh, yeah, all yours.”

     Kit took a step forward and crossed his arms. “Before we begin, we need to be thankful that Eva’s Super Duper Ultra Special Top Secret In Case Of Mega Emergency Backup Plan was what it was. What she wanted to do was take away any variables that might come from everyone improvising their own scripts, since clearly not everyone was on the same page from the start. And the most foundational thing she could come up with was the goings-on of the family and more specifically this production. The idea was she consult everyone later and figure out how to tie up all the loose ends into a satisfying conclusion.”

     “Yeah, she gave us a few guidelines on what we should and shouldn’t say as well,” Mr. Yellow added. “That bit about our family history and the tension she was fine with; figured it might be good for intrigue.”

     “And thanks to everyone’s stories regarding what was happening behind the scenes, we managed to figure a few things out,” Emilia said, holding up her notebook with a sly grin before remembering there was something in her other hand. “O-oh, uh...here.” She shoved the water glass into Javi’s arms.

     “What’s your role inside the troupe, Mr. Red?” Titus asked with a leer.

     “I’m Eva’s second in command,” Mr. Red answered. “I’m also the lead scriptwriter. Eva gives me ideas and I turn them into stage notes and lines.”

     “And who’s in charge of making sure the scripts are handed out to everyone?” Kit inquired, much more calmly. “You as well?”

     “Yes. But of course if there are so many handouts that wires get crossed and there’s confusion over which revision we’re using, then I don’t know how that can possibly be my fault.”

     “There was confusion, but not because of the constant revisioning,” the Delphox boldly stated. “In fact, I think it was induced, and that you were the cause of it.”

     The Flareon was starting to get upset. “Is there anything else you feel like accusing me of tonight? Maybe I jaywalked crossing the street on the way here too.”

     “No, no, just the attempted murder,” Kit coolly and swiftly assured. “But you, the scriptwriter, split everyone into two teams without their knowledge. One team had the script where Mr. Yellow’s quill was the murder weapon. You gave that version to yourself, Mr. Yellow, obviously, Ms. Lavender and Ms. Black, because they had to set it up and test it. And Mr. and Mrs. Blue, since they needed to build it.”

     “You make it sound like I included myself on purpose,” Mr. Red growled.

     “Because you did. The launcher angle required extensive setup, plus the plan was to hide it inside of the walls. Presumably any associated costs would be covered by the budget Lord Kristofferson set aside for you. You likely just went under the guise of helping, since the script was finalized by this point. Everyone in this team checks in at the front desk, everyone helps install it here, Mr. Yellow loads it, Ms. Black stands in for Eva, Ms. Lavender ensures everything goes off without a hitch, and you say job done once Ms. Black shrugs everything off.”

     “That’s correct.”

     “But you didn’t stop there,” Loge chimed in. “I did some testing of that launcher myself on someone of Eva’s build. That launcher was aimed at her head. Only reason it missed was because...uh, I distracted her.”

     Eva blinked. “...wait, you’re the zombie guy! The one I yelled at before...what’s going on here? It was aimed at my head??”

     Mr. Yellow looked down at the floor. “I...I didn’t know...”

     “How can that happen?” the Umbreon demanded. “We adjusted the aim immediately after my sister and I made sure it was functional! My neck and Eva’s head are about the same height, so we brought the aim back down for her!”

     “We even sealed it back off afterward once we knew the settings were right. Set the timer and everything,” the Espeon added.

     “When did you leave?” Javi asked.

     “Right afterward,” Ms. Lavender said, and then shuddered. “But Mr. Red stayed behind. He wanted to clarify a few more details with the captain.”

     Javi got a small gem out of his bag. “I can get a hold of him if...”

     The entire floor unanimously answered, “NO!!”

     “No need for that yet, not until the detective can come up with actual evidence,” said the Flareon. “Either way, that’s correct. I stayed behind for a while after my three colleagues left. What, you think I actually used the time to put the launcher back to its original settings and put Eva’s life in danger?”

     “Your stunt coordinator and head of safety were convinced that the launcher was in a safe condition before they left,” Luka reiterated. “There were no other auras of note on the quill, and I’d wager the launcher would be mostly the same.”

     “Um...actually,” Mr. Blue sheepishly interrupted, glancing at his wife.

     “Ours might be on there as well,” the Vaporeon finished. “We’re the team engineers after all.”

     “Interesting,” Mr. Red noted. “So how do we know they weren’t complicit?”

     Mr. Blue jumped up and growled. “Are you saying that...”

     Mrs. Blue patted his head.

     “It’s a possibility, but a highly unlikely one,” Kit continued. “Remember when I said there were two teams, split up depending on how they’d expect Eva to die? The second team was expecting a poisoning, which is why there was so much confusion at the start. That team would be Eva, Ms. Green, as she had to supply it, and Mr. Pink, because he had evidence to manufacture for it. He didn’t need to be involved with the launcher squad since all the evidence for that pretty much made itself thanks to Mr. and Mrs. Blue.”

     Mrs. Blue thought to herself. “Now that you mention it, we were handed a second version shortly after we finished our work for the launcher, didn’t we, dear?”

     “Yeah, and it kinda rubbed me the wrong way. We did all that work just for Eva to have another idea and tell us there wasn’t a point anymore. We didn’t want to waste anything, so we just threw it into the prop closet with everything else,” the Glaceon lamented with a sigh.

     Eva was silent during the entire exchange. Her head hung guiltily.

     “Ms. Green has been sneezing nonstop since she arrived here,” Kit noted. “She said it was allergies, and normally she has medicine for that. But she’s had a flare up tonight even though she’s certain she took it.”

     “How do you usually take this medicine, Ms. Leafeon?” Luka politely inquired.

     “Well...choof!...it’s a white powder and I usually just mix it into a glass of water or something. It doesn’t change the flavor or anything so I just...choof!...use whatever I have at the time.”

     Loge’s eyes widened and he turned to the stolen water glass. “Uh...and...how much do you usually take?”

     “Half a teaspoon’s worth. Doctor’s orders.”

     Kit turned to Mr. Pink. “And how big are the vials Ms. Green typically uses?”

     “About...fifty milliliters?” the Sylveon estimated.

     The Delphox shut his eye and did some math. “So that’s around three cubic inches, which is in the area of ten teaspoons. Twenty times what someone should be taking at once.”

     “Javi, you want to take that water to Riley for a test or two?” the Mightyena requested.

     “¡Sí, Sargento!” the Hawlucha nodded and hurried off.

     “Oh, don’t be preposterous!” Mr. Red shouted. “When would I even have the chance to...”

     “During the compounding...” Ms. Green said to herself.

     The Flareon whirled around.

     “You...you came by the lab to see how the fake poison was coming along,” Ms. Green stated. “And then you asked me to check with Mr. Pink to make sure our projects were agreeing with each other...and you figured out where I keep my medicine...”

     “And you switched the containers’ contents, didn’t you?” Kit concluded.

     Mr. Red snarled and spun back around to the Delphox.

     “I know what you’re about to ask,” Kit cut him off. “Why would you bother with this giant show in the first place? If you wanted Eva gone, why not just do something more conventional? Something more practical than just blindly firing something at her and hoping for the best?”

     Eva slowly turned her head toward her brother, a terrified tear in her eye.

     “You got passed on for the leadership,” Kit stated. His good eye glinted green as he spoke. “Eva wasn’t supposed to get it, why would she? You were older, you had more experience, by all rights you should have been heir to the leading role of The Eons. And it didn’t happen. You didn’t like that decision, but you went with it anyway, on the condition you got to be Number Two. Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad. Then Eva got her first big assignment, and she was not handling it properly. It was rushed, nobody was coordinated, she barked at people for their shortcomings, she kept changing things almost on whim, she was an absolute nightmare for you, wasn’t she?”

     The Eevee slowly turned to the Delphox.

     “She wasn’t fit for a job like this, and you couldn’t stomach the thought of your family legacy’s name being dragged through the proverbial mud. So you took matters into your own hands. You fixed the scripts, the props, everything, and you wanted Eva’s incompetence to be shown to everyone you could. The big day comes, you take your marks, and you sit down knowing that Mr. Yellow’s quill is going to come screaming out of that launcher and into your sister. If she dies, then it’s a stage accident and that’s all everyone can prove. This was a risky thing for her to do in the first place and she knew it. But it was unreliable. Anything could happen and it did. She got hit, but not anywhere problematic. And you were ready, because you made sure that not everyone knew that was going to happen. You knew Eva would invoke her backup plan, and when she did, you talked her into bailing out on making the launcher scheme work. And you talked her back into the poisoning. You dumped Ms. Green’s medicine into her drink, well ahead of when she should have been ‘poisoned’ properly, and then you just had to wait.”

     Titus nosed through his bag for some manacles.

     Mr. Red remained silent.

     “You could have just not bothered with the launcher, sure, but you knew the more confusion and mistakes on the top level there were, the less competent Eva would look, and even if she did survive all of this, her dad would look all of this over and see what an absolute mess she made on the management side. As the troupe’s star no less. You didn’t care whether she lived or died tonight, all that mattered was you got put in charge afterward. And if saving the family’s good name was worth the life of your little sister, then that’s what it came to. You made sure everyone played a part because you didn’t want them to fall under scrutiny. In the end, Eva was the only one who would be seen touching every part of the production, and all eyes would fall on her. Everyone else was just following orders. You cared more about the family than you did about the individuals. And you did what you thought was the only way to save it.”

     Titus stepped towards the Flareon, handcuffs in his mouth. “Turn around and walk backwards towards...”

     Mr. Red whirled around and spewed a gout of fire at Titus. The blast caught the detective in the chest, and the Mightyena yelped in pain. Luka and some of the officers closest to the stage charged Mr. Red immediately after. A cloud of purple smoke exploded at his feet, concealing him and forcing almost everyone to cough and wheeze. Within the smog, Mr. Red made a turn for the police station’s exit. He started to run, but was immediately met with a kick across his midsection. He gasped from the impact.

     His gaze turned towards Luka, who was now glaring at him through the smoke, his eyes glowing bright yellow. The Lucario wasted no time transitioning into a grapple, grabbing the Flareon and throwing him to the floor with a crushing thud.

     A flap of wings from the Corviknight officer cleared the room, and Titus staggered back to his feet to complete the arrest.

Kit let out a relieved sigh and walked over to Eva. He knelt down to get closer to her height. “Are you okay?”

     Eva’s eyes shimmered and stayed looking at the floor. Her ears were drooped.

     “Sergeant Riley’s a medic. If you drank any of that water or got hurt some other way...”

     The Eevee did not respond.

     The Delphox shook his head. “Look, I know that...”

     “Hey, foxy?”

     Kit looked over his shoulder at Loge.

     “Let me try, eh?”

     Kit hesitated for a second, then stood up and made room.

     The Zoroark smiled weakly and stooped down. “Eva?”

     She sniffled back. “What?”

     “...this wasn’t your fault.”

     “I...drove my own brother to...”

     “You’re not responsible for what he did,” Loge stated.

     “How am I not?” the Eevee barked back. “I was in charge of this whole show. I wanted it to be the best debut for my new role as the leader and star and...”

     A tear splashed onto the floor.

     “And I screwed it up so bad that Red felt like he had to...”

     She felt someone pat her head.

     Her gaze snapped up to meet Loge’s.

     “Your dad picked you for a reason.”

     Eva sniffled again.

     “I don’t know much about your family’s internal affairs, but your dad decided you should be the leader of The Eons instead of Red. I think it’s because you care the most about your shows more than anyone else in your ranks. All these zany ideas of yours and the way you looked on stage before we showed up? Maybe you’re inexperienced running things, but that will solve itself in time. You got involved with everything and everyone on the crew, because you wanted to make sure everything was the best it could be. That’s probably the best start you can have when doing something like this.”

     The Eevee sobbed a bit.

     Loge offered a toothy, encouraging grin. “Everyone sucks at stuff until they learn enough to become good. So just keep learning. We all have your back.”

     Eva wiped at her eyes with her paw, and then stood onto her hind legs and hugged the Zoroark.

     “Thank you,” she quietly said. “Thank you for saving me.”

Titus put his pawprint on some preliminary paperwork and gave it back to the correctional officer. “Here. I’ll work on a full report once the party’s wound down a bit more.”

     “Thanks, Titus,” said the Aggron working the processing desk. He flipped through the paperwork and shook his head. “What a mess though. What are his charges again?”

     The Mightyena tried to recall everything that happened tonight. “First-degree attempted homicide for the launcher, then first-degree recklessly endangering safety for the poison, since Eva never drank it, then battery on law enforcement, resisting arrest...”

     “That allergy medicine was a prescription,” added Riley as she walked in with a report of her own. “And he’s not Ms. Green, so that’s another misdemeanor.”

     “So...what, fifty, sixty years in prison on the high end?” Titus estimated. “Fun stuff. Is that toxicology?”

     “Yeah,” confirmed the Raichu as she handed it over to the Aggron. “Put that with Mr. Red’s file, would you, Jasper?”

     “You got it.”

     “How’d it come back?” Titus asked.

     “Water was laced with high levels of antihistamine, definitely not safe for drinking,” Riley reported.

     “For what it’s worth, I found a vial about...yay big when I was searching him,” Jasper stated, holding up his thumb and forefinger a couple inches from each other. “He had it tucked away in his...uh...floof.”

     “Floof?” Riley repeated.

     “Neck area,” Titus explained. “You know how some of The Eons have that...”

     “Oh. Oh, yeah, the floof! Got it,” Riley nodded. “Keep that somewhere convenient. We’ll want to verify that the medicine was in there.”

     “I’ll pull it from evidence soon as I can,” replied the Aggron as he sat down and got back to his paperwork.

     Titus heaved an exhausted sigh and collapsed onto a bench. “I’m gonna be dead tired tomorrow between all the paperwork and writing and everything.”

     “Anything I can do to help?” the Raichu offered.

     “I’m not sure what you can do besides just make sure the captain doesn’t need me for anything...”

     Riley went silent.

     Titus glanced at her. “I’m guessing you called him?”

     “A murder almost happened in the precinct. I kinda had to,” Riley defended herself. “That said, he’s taking longer than...”

     A thunderbolt crashed outside of the doors, then some muffled shouting that Titus had to work for in order to hear clearly. “Blast it all, Fluffyface, what have I told you about running that fast while escorting me? Are you trying to give me whiplash?”

     “Uh, y-yes, sir. Sorry, sir. Won’t happen again, sir,” Captain Fluffyface mewed back.

     Titus raised an eyebrow. There was only one person in the department capable of reeling in Captain Fluffyface like that.

     “Anyway, sir, he’s in Processing right now. I’ll go get him for you, sir.” The Zeraora kicked open the doors and leaned inside, glaring at Titus like he already knew where he was. “Sergeant!”

     “Y-y-yes, Captain?” Riley stammered.

     “Not you, the other one!” boomed Captain Fluffyface. Riley bolted under the bench for cover.

     Titus straightened his tie and got up from his seat. “Uh, sir, technically, I...”

     “What did you say?” Captain Fluffyface’s eyes narrowed.

     Titus blinked confusedly.

     The Zeraora marched over to the Mightyena. “Sergeant Titus, I swear I just heard you say ‘technically!’ You know how much I hate that word, don’t you?”

     “Sir, yes, sir,” Titus flatly responded. Some of the fur on his face was matted backwards by the volume of his superior’s outburst.

     “Only scientists and people that want to be correct for correctness’ sake use that word! And I’ve drilled it into your head by now that I am the most correct person in this entire building! So when I call you Sergeant, then Arceus help me, that means...!”

     “Captain, give the poor sergeant some breathing space, won’t you?” came an elderly, softer voice from the entrance. Titus immediately snapped to attention and saluted the Tropius slowly stomping his way through the doors. Riley scampered out from under the bench and did the same, and Captain Fluffyface corrected his mid-rant posture to follow suit as well.

     He also took a wide step to his side away from Titus. “Y-yes, sir! Sorry, sir!”

     “To what do we owe the visit, Chief?” Titus asked.

     “At ease, all of you,” Chief ordered, then cleared his throat. “I understand there was an...incident at your promotion party earlier, Titus. Care to explain?”

     “I’ll have a full report ready by tomorrow morning, sir,” the Mightyena stated. “But shortly, there was an attempted murder involving some of the live entertainment. We managed to stop it in time thanks to some of the guests in attendance.”

     “Is that so?” Chief slowly replied, looking around the booking area. “Where’s your partner?”

     “Back at the party area. Evidence collecting,” Titus answered. “Most of the guests and other officers have filtered out of there. Needless to say, murder attempts tend to kill the atmosphere.”

     “Hmmm...well, nothing to be done about that, sadly,” Chief stated. “It’s unfortunate. I was hoping I could at least come by near the end. But it’s nothing I can’t make amends for.”

     Titus blinked. “Beg your pardon, sir?”

     “Your promotion is tomorrow, if I’m not mistaken?”

     “Yes, sir. Correct.”

     “Hmmm...your work and service to the city and its citizens never ends, does it? Even when you’re encouraged to have a night off, you still find a way to make Silver Coast a better place to live. Though perhaps tonight it was in a bit more of a...bombastic fashion than what you’re typically known for.”

     “That’s one way to put it...”

     The Tropius chuckled to himself softly. “Then I think it’s only fair I add a little bombast of my own to your promotion tomorrow, Sergeant. While you’re working on your report, I’ll do some paperwork of my own. Saving someone’s life in the middle of your own promotion party has to be worth some hardware of some variety, don’t you think?”

     Titus hesitated and looked over at Captain Fluffyface for some reason.

     The Zeraora crossed his arms and grunted at the Mightyena. “I know I give everyone a lot of heat around here, but you’re one of the better detectives in the department. Congratulations.”

     “Yeah, that,” Riley chimed in, patting Titus’ shoulder. “We did good today.”

     Titus stared at his comrades for a second, then turned back to Chief and saluted him. “Thank you, sir. It’s an honor.”

“Book six, chapter five, verse five.”

     “For an individual does not decide on their heritage nor bloodline, you must appreciate and honor those that share it with you; it is a collective experience that no others can partake.”

     “Good, Kit. Very good.”

     “I mean, unless they try plotting against you, I guess.”

     “Arceus’ teachings tend to assume the best in people. You’re referring to Mr. Red, I take it.”

     “I figured out why he did it, but I...still don’t know what goes through someone’s mind when they decide that’s the only way forward.”

     “It’s a difficult question to answer. Dark thoughts and machinations like those prey on people at their weakest and most desperate. Mr. Red did what he did because he felt alone and nobody else wanted to correct what he viewed as a grave error. And that drove him down a morally reprehensible path towards that goal.”

     “Yeah, and that’s putting it delicately.”

     “Like the verse I had you recite states, we don’t get to choose our family. Hence it is important that we respect and love them unconditionally. Even when they are at their worst and we are driven to our worst by way of their actions.”

     “Again, barring...well, you know.”

     “Assume the best.”

     “Right, yeah.”

     “The bottom line is you saved a life. Everyone did. You, Detective Titus, your friends...”

     “I just happened to be at the right spot at the right time. There’s no way I could have known that...”

     “If I may interrupt, do you believe in fate?”

     “Not really. I like to think I’m in control of my own choices.”

     “As do I, but fate can still play a role even then. Tell me, what happens when I rub a match against the box?”

     “You get a flame, of course.”

     “How do you know that?”

     “It’s just what it does. It’s predictable.”

     “And is that not fate in its own way?”

     “...”

     “You are a very talented individual, Kit. And you’ve been gifted with the intuition and knowledge to solve just about any puzzle you come across. You’re correct that it may have been a coincidence you bumped into The Eons at that point in time, but make no mistake, Eva is alive because of your skills. And those of your friends.”

     “...trying to get me motivated for my next case, sir?”

     “Even the most exceptional people can do with a compliment and pep talk now and then. You did well.”

     “...thank you, sir.”

     “Oh, I meant to ask. How is Loge doing? You mentioned he needed work. Has he done that yet?”

     “No. Not yet, at least.”

The seven Eons sat at the meeting table backstage looking around at each other. The head of the table, reserved for Eva typically, was atypically vacant, especially for a standard midafternoon briefing like this.

     Mr. Pink glanced at the clock on the wall. “I wonder what’s keeping her.”

     “Frankly, after all the drama last night, I’d be impressed if she shows up at all,” Mr. Yellow commented.

     “Yeah,” Mrs. Blue sighed. “Hard to think Red would do something like that.”

     Mr. Blue patted his wife’s shoulder. “I think a lot of us are shaken up after that, honestly.”

     “Do we...wanna take the rest of the day off?” Ms. Black asked. “I don’t know, just...take a few hours to reset?”

     The door to the meeting room swung open before anyone could answer. “Sorry I’m late! I had a letter to finish writing.”

     Ms. Lavender turned in her seat. “Eva! We were just...” She went quiet as she looked the eighth member of the team over.

     Eva paced over towards her place at the table, shuffling behind some of her family members. “Sorry. Excuse me, Yellow. Still getting used to things.”

     Ms. Green inched her chair in to make room. “You...look different.”

     “In the good way, I hope,” said Eva as she hopped onto her chair.

     “You look marvelous,” Mr. Pink commented. “That said though, I always pictured you taking after me for some reason.”

     “Same, but I thought this was for the best,” the Flareon replied. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking after last night, and I think we need a few adjustments to how things run. On my end especially.”

     The rest of the family looked at one another curiously.

     “The first thing I need to do is apologize,” she said. “I’ve probably been a real menace to work with lately, between tossing you guys into the deep end with an unorthodox project and then constantly changing the formula on you. After last night, I’ve come to realize that I can’t do everything by myself, and I can’t just bark orders and expect the gaps to just get magically filled in. So, I’m fixing that. Because this troupe doesn’t need a star. It needs a team player. And I haven’t been doing that.”

     She looked up at everyone with a determined smile on her face. “So, effective today, we’re going back to our old branding. We’re going to be The Eons again, and I’m going to be just another member of the cast. I was thinking about Ms. Scarlet for a name. Any thoughts?”

     “Are you sure about all of this?” Mr. Yellow asked. “I mean, this is a lot of change in a really short window, so...”

     “I am,” Eva asserted. “For once in my life, I am certain that this is what I want.”

     The room went quiet, and then Mr. Pink chuckled to himself. “Well, who are we to argue then? I think those are all good changes.”

     Ms. Lavender thinly grinned back. “Seconded.”

     “Hear, hear!” Ms. Black cheered.

     Ms. Green raised a paw. “Um, so we need a new Eevee now, right?”

     Mr. and Mrs. Blue looked at each other. The Glaceon smiled sheepishly. “I mean...”

     “Not at the meeting table, you two!” Eva interrupted, pounding an orange-furred paw onto the table with a wide grin. “Now, business. That letter I was writing was for Lord Kristofferson. He’s willing to grant us an extension for our murder mystery performance. There’s a police charity ball coming up on the 8th of next month that he’d like for us to show up for, and this time we’re going to do this as a team. Like we should have. Pink, you’re our secretary.”

     “I’m already ready!” the Sylveon replied, as he placed some blank paper on the table with his ribbons. He prepared a pencil with one of the others. “Ms. Scarlet.”

     The Flareon nodded and gave the rest of the table a toothy smirk. “So! Who wants to kill me?”

A clanging bell echoed up and down the Silver Coast Harbor as a passenger boat pulled into Dock #8. A gangplank clattered onto the pier and the throng of passengers filed off of the SS Lapras Lazuli. Loge nervously readjusted his tie as he tried to identify the passengers. He did not need long before he eyed a pair of older Zoroarks shuffling through the crowd. He had to suppress an urge to duck out in a seaside restaurant instead of waiting to be noticed by them.

     He did not get much of an opportunity to do so before one of the pair – the one with dark purple streaks in her mane and grey fur a few tints lighter than Loge’s – spotted him and dashed over to him, arms outstretched, almost barreling over some of her fellow travelers in doing so. “Logan, dearest!”

     Loge cleared his throat and anxiously, toothily smiled back. “H-heya, Ma...”

     He got interrupted by a crushing force around his midsection as he was lifted about half of a foot of the ground. The second Zoroark rubbed her cheek into his chest. “And look at you wearing that tie I picked out! I knew you’d love it! Look at him, love! Oh, our little bathbomb’s grown right up!”

     “M...Ma, please...” Loge choked, weakly slapping his mother’s shoulder.

     “Release him, Kathrine,” the third dark-brown colored Zoroark cooly demanded, the midday sun refracting off of the lenses of his rectangular spectacle frames. “To your chagrin, I’m sure, but the poor boy does need to breathe.”

     “Shame on you, Willard!” Kathrine scowled as she dropped Loge back onto the stonework. “We haven’t seen our son since last Starlight Vigil and that is the first thing you decide to say?”

     “I-it’s fine, Ma. Seriously,” Loge grinned as he stood up and dusted his rear off. “You haven’t gotten better at not squeezing the life out of me.”

     “Force of habit, Logan, and you know it,” Kathrine replied with a sweet smile. “How have you...”

     “How’s the job hunt been?” Willard interrupted, scanning his son up and down, like he was buying an appliance.

     Loge tried to look at his dad eye to eye, then winced as the sunlight reflected back into his face. “I landed something yesterday, actually.”

     “Have you now.”

     “Willard...”

     “He knows the deal,” the elder Zoroark firmly stated. “And it’s not like I haven’t been fed empty platitudes from our offspring before.”

     Loge scowled. “What’s that mean?”

     “Nothing. Merely that I’ll believe it when I see it.”

     The two males of the group glared at each other for a moment, then Kathrine put a hand on each of their shoulders. “I have an idea. We’ve been travelling a lot lately, and your dad has had meetings nonstop for the past two days. I bet a nice lunch alongside the marina here would work wonders for...”

     “Actually, I have something set up already,” Loge cut in. “It’s at the old house. My employer’s gonna be there too, if you want to meet him. Figured I’d cook something for you guys.”

     Kathrine’s face lit up. “You’re on such good terms with him already? That’s fantastic, Logan! And how long have you been cooking for?”

     Loge chuckled. “Well I kinda had to learn at some point. I’d be broke if I just ate out all the time, right?”

     “That, you would,” Willard icily replied.

     Kathrine flinched a bit and beamed back at their son. “...we’d be happy to accept the invitation, dear. Help us with our bags?”

     “Yes, ma’am,” Loge nodded and walked over to her suitcase.

Emilia Reptilia reached into a grocery bag and blindly threw a bottle off to her right. “Top shelf!”

     Kit slowed the projectile down to a hover in front of him and read the label. There was a grocery card in the prize pool from the party, and naturally Loge jumped at the opportunity to accept it as thanks for his service. His roommate then snapped it up and immediately used it for ingredients for what Kit assumed would be a family lunch. However, the more he and Luka helped her unpack the bags, the more puzzled he seemed to become. “...alright, I give up,” he eventually said.

     “That’s something I wasn’t expecting to hear from you,” Luka chuckled. “What is it?”

     “Fridge!” the Salazzle shouted as a cabbage bounced off the Lucario’s head. Luka managed to catch it on the rebound.

     “What we’re making,” Kit replied as he levitated the bottle to its home in the pantry. “Cabbage, shrimp, potatoes, leeks, I thought it was a stew or something but that’s soy sauce I just put away and...”

     “Middle shelf!” A package of noodles slapped itself across Luka’s face.

     “...that,” the Delphox finished. “I know what Loge likes cooking and this isn’t matching anything.”

     Luka removed the noodles and handed them to Kit. “That’d be my fault, Detective. He visited the dojo last night asking for family meal ideas and I suggested hot pot.”

     “Never heard of it,” Kit replied curiously.

     “I hope the pot’s hot, nothing gets cooked otherwise,” Emilia chimed in as she set a bar of soap down next to the sink.

     “Well, yes,” Luka shrugged. “When the first monks settled in Mt. Whisper, they were of course tired from the long journey to the peaks and wanted to cook something for dinner. One of them wanted something with tofu, another wanted a hearty potato stew, a third wanted to cook noodles, and so on, and nobody could reach a decision. This went on for a bit until the eldest monk took a large cooking pot out of his satchel, put it over a flame, and dumped all of the group’s ingredients into it. It’s been a perfect traditional dish for friends and family ever since. With a nice moral on the side, I like to think.”

     “I wonder if Loge’s parents will get it,” Emilia muttered as she collapsed the now empty paper bag and slid it away under the sink. “They’re a little uptight from the sound of things. Well, his dad is at any rate.”

     “He’s always been like that,” Kit replied. “Met him when Loge invited me, well, here for the first time. He was a little imposing but warmed up once he found out I was doing well at school.”

     “He likes people who get things done, essentially,” the Salazzle concluded.

     “Not the worst mindset to have, in fairness,” Luka commented.

     “Yeah well, Loge does plenty of things. Especially with helping you out, Kit,” Emilia frowned, crossing her arms. “It’s not his fault he’s not getting recognized his crotchety grey-furred grum...”

     “We’re home!” Loge called.

     “I-I-I mean, his fantastic, loving, supportive dad who’s just come in through the front door!”

     “Good save,” Kit muttered, his head in his hand.

     “You must be Emilia!” Kathrine exclaimed as the Zoroarks came in. The Salazzle did not get much time to react before she found herself in the vicelike grip of Loge’s mother. “Logan’s told me all about you! I hope he hasn’t been too much of a handful for you. How long have you two been dating?”

     Emilia squirmed and tried to slip out. “W...we aren’t...”

     “Kathrine, I swear we talked about this on the walk over,” Willard sighed as he put some bags down and took out a polishing cloth for his glasses.

     “M-Ma, please,” Loge tried to step in. “I’m used to it. She’s not.”

     “Oh, fair enough then,” Kathrine apologized and set Emilia back down. The Salazzle was surprised she had enough skeletal integrity to continue standing.

     The oldest Zoroark of the three wiped his glasses off and slipped them back on in time to eye the Lucario. “I take it you’re my son’s new employer then.”

     Luka shook his head and bowed respectfully. “No, merely a friend. Master Luka of the Sil...”

     “Logan...” Willard interrupted with a growl.

     “What?”

     “You told me you found a job.”

     “And I did!”

     “Where at?” Muted anger permeated through Willard’s tone.

     “I can answer that, sir,” the Delphox stated, walking towards the Zoroark pair. “It’s good to see you again.”

     Willard’s gaze turned towards Kit, and his expression softened noticeably. “You too, Kit. My son told me you’re a businessman now,” he stated, extending a hand.

     “Something along those lines. Private detective.” Kit shook it politely.

     “You’re providing something for others. Whether it be wood or an expert opinion, business is business,” Willard replied. “Things been going well?”

     “Very,” Kit nodded, a thin grin on his face. “So well that I’ve been in the market for an assistant.”

     Willard chuckled. “Expanding always feels good. I don’t know much about your field but I can put in a few words with...”

     “Thanks, sir, but I’ve already got a prospective hire set up. He starts tomorrow.”

     “That so?” the Zoroark asked with a hint of incredulity. “And who’s the lucky candid...”

     He stopped. Then whirled around.

     Loge smiled toothily and stiffly waved at his dad.

The evening sun warmed the back of Kit’s head as he sat as his desk, organizing some last minute paperwork. A knock came at the door, and though it was well outside his normal business hours, he knew who it was. “Come on in, Loge.”

     Loge slowly opened the door and slunk inside like he was breaking into somewhere. He stopped when he identified not only the Delphox but also a Mightyena sitting across from his desk, the once silver badge normally hanging around his neck replaced with a bright gold one. He also noticed the two black chevrons that were inked onto his front right leg had become a trio since he last saw him. “Oh. Uh...evening, Corp...er, Sergeant now,” he greeted. “I hope you weren’t waiting too long on me or anything...”

     “My shift ended a few minutes ago. Think nothing of it,” Titus smiled, then stood up and sat back down in front of Loge to better look at him. “I’m here because I never thanked you properly for what you did at the party.”

     Loge blinked. “Uh, yeah, no problem. Though I kinda wussed out near the end...”

     The Mightyena shook his head. “I’ve been on the force for eight years and change now. I’ve had more than my fair share of blunders and personal hangups over how I handled my duties in the past. So has Javi, Captain Fluffyface, Riley and everyone else. Needing to step away from the task at hand and think about what you’re doing doesn’t make you a wuss. I’d honestly be more worried if that never happened to someone. What’s important is you still showed up when you needed to.”

     Loge went quiet for a second. “You...you think I did, huh?”

     “I know you did,” Titus replied. “Honestly, I’d ask if you’d be up for joining the academy and possibly trying your hand at proper policework. Unfortunately, your friend has something else lined up, and he gets right of way.”

     The Zoroark stammered and looked between Titus and Kit, back and forth, confusion mounting by the second. “Kit? What’s he on about?”

     The Delphox reached into his desk for a sheet of paper and motioned to the chair across from him. “I’ve been talking about it with Titus for a bit before you came by. He made some good points and...I think it’s time I started valuing your contributions more than I have.”

     Loge paced over but never sat down. He peered over at the sheet Kit was offering him.

     “Your starting rate isn’t going to be anything extravagant; like I said before, my firm operates on relatively tight profit margins. You’ll be helping me with casework still, of course, but you’ll also be one of the first people incoming clients meet when it comes to hearing their problems.”

     Loge picked up the document and started reading it. He sniffed a little.

     “Most of my work is private contracts, and you’ll have your share of those for yourself exclusively. I’ll be managing my own cases as well as whatever SCPD throws our way. You’ll assist me as needed while also being the sole manager of what I hope will be relatively easy cases of your own.”

     Titus noticed Loge’s eyes shimmering a bit as he read the job offer, and grinned encouragingly. “You impressed, Loge. Allow me to return the congratulations to you.”

     “I...Kit, I...” he stammered, itching his nose with the back of his hand.

     “I know you said you didn’t want me to consider you anymore, so you can think it over for a bit if you want. No pressure either way,” Kit calmly interjected. “But like Titus said, you did amazing work at the party. And that’s worth some recognition.”

     Loge stared at the offer, crinkling and crumpling the paper between his fingers.

     Kit warmly smiled back. “Just let me know what you think before your parents show up, okay?”

     The Zoroark looked at the Delphox as straightly as he could and blinked a tear away. “I will!”

“I have a copy of his contract at my office, if you want to see it,” Kit offered, sipping some tea.

     “No need for that,” Kathrine chuckled. “We just weren’t expecting you of all people to extend an offer to him.”

     “I am more than qualified!” Loge barked from the kitchen as he lowered the heat on the stove. He flinched as he felt Willard icily stare at him over a water glass.

     Kit noticed almost immediately. “It’s not a pity hire or anything, if that’s what you’re concerned about. And I didn’t do it because I heard that he had a position waiting at Oaksbane otherwise.”

     The Zoroark grunted and set his drink down. “It’s the fit that worries me.”

     “Oh, don’t be silly, dear. Logan and Kit go together like Arcanines and tennis balls.”

     “It’s not the people, Kathrine.”

     Luka came in and laid out a heat pad in the center of the table. “If I may. You don’t see him doing it for especially long.”

     “Yes, that exactly,” Willard replied. “I’m glad you’re helping my son, Kit, don’t get the wrong idea. But...I didn’t insist on taking him back to Oaksbane because I wanted to drag him away from his life here. He needs...vision. Something to work towards. He’s not going to find fulfillment by just languishing in an old house, playing everything by ear and hoping things work out in the end. Success doesn’t manifest that way. And neither does happiness. Not in the long term.”

     Kathrine reached over and put her hand on her husband’s.

     He heaved a sigh and took a sip of water. “Logan means more to me than anything else. I’m stern with him because...”

     Willard never finished his sentence.

     “You know, Pops,” Loge interjected as he set the pot onto the table with a thud. He crossed his arms in front of his cooking apron (which Kit just now noticed had a very familiar Braixen needlepointed onto the front). “Winging it isn’t the worst thing in the world.”

     “I didn’t say that it was,” Willard replied. “Also, who is that on...”

     “Don’t ask,” Kit cut in, his hand over his eyes.

     Emilia walked in with a salad and condiments, and glanced over at Loge. She had never seen him look so...serious before now.

     “My time will come,” the Zoroark asserted. “I know I haven’t done a good job at taking initiative lately, and I’m sorry for just being a drag for you guys with money and everything. I’ve always had a lot to prove and never really lived up to expectations. And words only go so far, especially from someone like me. But I’m going to change that. I don’t know how long I’ll be working with Kit for, but it’s not going to be my forever job. I have trust to regain first. And once that’s done, then I’ll start thinking about what happens afterward.”

     Loge looked up at Willard, intense turquoise meeting unyielding brown.

     “I want to make you proud, Pops. You’ve invested in me all my life and I love you guys for that. I promise I’ll make a good return for you.”

     Willard sat still for a minute, then picked up his bowl and the serving tongs. He pulled a small variety of items out of the pot before sitting back down, picking up his fork and sampling it.

     Loge seemed taken aback somewhat, but thinly grinned regardless. “What do you think?”

     “Udon next time,” Willard replied.

     Emilia blinked confusedly. “Udon, sir?”

     “You used ramen noodles. Not wrong necessarily, but udon is thicker, chewier. It’ll help you savor the shrimp and veggies more. Also remind me to give you my sauteed potatoes recipe before I leave. The spices I use would help the broth...”

     “Pops?”

     “What is it?”

     The Zoroark snickered toothily. “I didn’t know you were into food like that.”

     “I was a lumberjack before I was a mill owner, son. Hard work needs good, well-made meals to power it,” Willard retorted.

     Kathrine smiled warmly up at her son. “I think you won this round.”

     Emilia beamed as well, resting her notepad on her thigh and scribbling something into it under the table.

     “I’m glad we could impress, sir,” Luka commented as he took a seat.

     Willard looked around at everyone and adjusted his glasses, his otherwise blank expression not shifting for an instant. “Well, what are we waiting on? You’re not making the hot pot hotter by staring at it.”

     The younger Zoroark hopped into his seat and grabbed the tongs. “Yes, sir!”

     The Delphox chuckled to himself as everyone dug in.