#lietext

It had been about an hour since Katherine had been picked up by Interpol’s on-call paramedics. She had been taken to an undisclosed location to where their hospital was situated. The detective himself had been there a few times-- an agent of his rank was bound to accumulate more than his fair share of injuries-- and now, he was about to drag another person with them.                             Someone he really, really wished he didn’t have to disturb. 

The detective heaved a deep sigh, stopping in front of the house. He’d actually driven here, though he usually preferred Pokemon traveling methods, he needed to talk to Colress while he took him there. In the comfort of a car. Privately. Sliding from the driver’s side seat, he gently shut the door. No doubt the sound reverberated off of the house before him. It was quite possible the scientist had even heard it. 

As he walked toward the steps that led to the metal door, his mind wandered to a common subject: how to phrase his words. He always did this when he delivered bad news; there was never an easy way to go about it, either. It was likely Colress would be able to tell something was wrong by the fact that Looker showed up at his house, late at night and by car, never mind the exhaustion present in Looker’s eyes. There was no sugarcoating it. The detective would just have to be honest.

While kneeling down, he withdraws a bean from his coat. He liked to carry them to lure in Pokemon before snatching them and using them for splice fodder. He had to ensure this Litten was friendly with him, first though. He offered the bean, his overcoat revealing his rod further. It was latched to his belt, but there was a part of the rod that pushed in so he could take off easily. If the Litten wanted, she could yank the rod so the back would snap forward, releasing it from the leather around the man’s waist.

The Zoroark snickered, which only looked like Florie snickering to herself. She leans against a counter, still grinning.

“How’s the party?” 

He stared at her wide-eyed when she spoke, shocked that she could even do so in this form. His attention went back to the metal in her teeth, though. Was there... purple behind it? He dropped the whole ‘I can talk’ matter for now.

“?!-- GAAH!!”

Her screech rang out in the night as she felt her beanie yanked from her head and claws dig into her back. Her tank top easily tore as did her skin and she fell forward, crashing on the ground with a grunt. Pain seared through her body as it almost felt as if she were burning. Her arms got clawed often-- her back, however, did not. Her ears were now also exposed, still clipped together. They began to ache, as the Lyncaroc was not gentle taking off the beanie that once resided on her head.

Viktor hissed in frustration and spun around, his heart pounding. It was rare a Pokemon would completely bypass him to attack his Trainer. Then again, as Katherine had noticed, this ‘Pokemon’ had spoken human language. Was she-- as she had sounded to Viktor-- really a Pokemon? There wasn’t much time to think on that. The Umbreon had to protect his Trainer! He raced forward, sand seemingly falling from his paws as he ran, eventually skidding and whipping his back end around in several directions to attempt a Sand Attack on the beast. 

Katherine meanwhile shut her eyes as she felt the sand hit her face. It couldn’t be avoided, with the, whatever it was, behind her and standing on her back. The Trainer attempted to struggle out of the Lycanroc’s hold, wriggling anxiously. If she ever got away, she was going straight for Swampert’s ball. Not much could beat down her mega evolved tank of a frog, after all, and this seemed too vicious to be a Grass-type. 

Ah, Aether Paradise. Was it really a paradise? Who knew. Looker heard his fair share of rumors and the fact that Miss Wicke had aided the International Police with the capturing of the escaped Ultra Beasts didn’t really help their case. But that wasn’t why he had come here today, no. He walked swiftly along the empty-- even dreary white halls, flashing his badge to those who were of enough importance to stop him and ask why he was here. Usually with this certification, he was left to his own devices, unbothered.

Despite that others had halted his progress-- it seemed a mere moments after one person stopped him, another came out the woodwork-- there was only one person who could help him. 

There was a light rap on the door to Florie’s office, a voice coming after it.

The double snickers, putting a hand on her hip.