"Wuh." Bubba insists. He has a wrapped granola bar in his mouth that crinkles as he repeatedly butts his head against her's. "Wuuuh!"
"I'm fine Bubba." Amelia says, face mostly covered by a pillow. Her voice doesn't even convince herself, so there's no way Bubba will be fooled. Her tako paws at her face with more squeaky protests before getting fed up and lightly smacking her with the granola bar.
"WUUUH!"
Amelia peeks one eye out from the pillow and sees Bubba angrily stomping his little tentacles. "I don't need d-dinner Bubba, I'll just wait until tomorrow."
Bubba drops the granola bar and hisses. His whole body balloons in anger, and Amelia cringes. She's being a bad owner again. Reluctantly, she sits up while Bubba glowers at her and accepts the granola bar he pushes at her.
"Sorry Bubba." She mumbles shamefully while opening the bar.
"Wah." Bubba huffs, deflating from his angry balloon state. He crawls forward until he's in her lap where he sits sullenly. "Wah-wah, wah."
"Sorry." She says again, and takes a bite out of the granola bar. Her stomach growls as soon as she gets a taste of food, reminding her that she is, in fact, quite hungry. "I-I just…"
Bubba looks up at her, frowning.
"Sorry." She repeats like a broken record. She doesn't know what else to say. "Thank you Bubba."
"Wah."
She nibbles at the granola until it's gone. Her throat feels raw and her eyes hurt, but she's a bit less hungry now. Bubba watches her as she crumples up the wrapper of the granola bar and rubs her face to get rid of any remnant tear stains. "I-I should probably eat something else."
"Wah!" Bubba hops in place, approving of this. He hovers up to her hand, grabs her fingers with his tentacles, and strains to pull her out of bed. "Waaah!"
She doesn't get fancy for dinner. It's mostly just a scrounging of cheese, an apple, and a few crackers for Bubba. He's in a good enough mood with her obedience that he allows her to feed him by hand, eagerly nibbling away crackers she holds up to him with happy wiggles of his flaps.
(Despite her anxiety, seeing Bubba happy does make her happier in turn. The first little coo from him even gets a smile despite herself.)
"I'm glad I have you, Bubba." She mumbles, stroking his head. Bubba chirps and nuzzles into the hand. "...I don't want to go to work tomorrow, but I have to. Her Imperial Majesty is going to be disappointed."
"Waaah." Bubba says reassuringly. He reaches up a tentacle to hold one of her fingers. "Wah, wah-wah! Wa-ah!"
"The worst part is that they're probably going to forgive me." Amelia continues, moving to hold Bubba in both hands like the valuable gem he is and deserves to be treated as. "They can't keep doing that Bubba. I've burned so many chances already. I'll run out of them eventually o-or it'll end up hurting Their Imperial Majesties if they keep giving them to me…"
"Waaah…" Bubba frowns. His flaps droop, and he looks at her plaintively. "Wah?"
"I can't hurt them like that, Bubba." Amelia says. "They don't deserve that."
Bubba whines. He pats her hands gently, reassuringly. She uses a thumb to stroke his cheek in response.
"What do I do Bubba?" She asks. "I keep doing the wrong thing. I'm trying but it's just not working."
"Wah!" Bubba protests, flaps sticking up in disapproval. "WAAAH!"
"I don't know what to do Bubba!"
Bubba pouts for a second then flutters off her hands and to… the phone. "Wah."
"I can't call them, Bubba."
"Wah." Bubba's tone is flat and unimpressed. He raises one little tentacle to point at the phone. "WAH."
"No, Bubba. I- We have done that already. We can't do it again so soon."
Bubba scowls. He puffs up like a pufferfish. "Waaah…!"
"I-I have to talk to Her Majesty tomorrow anyways." Amelia explains hastily. "No point in talking over the phone when we're going to have to talk in-person a-anyways."
Bubba squints as he deflates, but reluctantly allows it. He doesn't go calling Her Majesty on his own initiative to her immense relief.
Not that it matters much. It just means there's more to worry about tomorrow when she has to explain her failure to Her Majesty in person.
The thought makes her feel sick to her stomach. She spends the rest of her afternoon playing with Bubba in a futile attempt to distract herself.
###
She wakes up to tako purring against her cheek.
"Mmm… Bubba…" She mumbles, slurring her words tiredly. "What time izzit?"
"Waaah." Bubba's voice is equally sleepy. She can feel him squirm a bit as he gets comfortable again, and then scrunches her nose when one of his flaps flicks against it. It's only then she realizes she's using Bubba as a pillow, and that she's very much not in her bed right now.
Her neck aches less than she thought it would considering she fell asleep on the couch. Maybe it's because Bubba is so soft. She doesn't even want to wake up as much as she wants to nuzzle back against him, but she has obligations. She has a job to do, no matter how bad she is at it.
With a groan, she forces herself to sit up. Bubba whines a complaint, and she mumbles an apology. She fumbles for her phone on the table (didn't get charged, nothing she can do about it now) and checks the time.
Six thirty? That's fine. Only half an hour past her usual waking time. She can work with that.
It's a bit of a rush to throw something together for breakfast and shove something approximating lunch into her pocket before jogging out the door.
Focusing on just getting to work on time is enough to distract her from the mind-numbing horror that is what's going to happen when she gets there.
"Maybe Her Majesty will be busy." She whispers to Bubba. "And I can try to redeem myself before seeing her."
"Wah…" Bubba frowns. He pats her cheek from where he's sitting on her shoulder. "Wah!"
"I know it'll be okay." She mumbles. "But that makes it worse."
Bubba doesn't speak this time. He nuzzles into her neck, and she leans on him.
She feels a little better after that. It's hard not to; Bubba is good at this sort of thing.
Today, she walks through the city clutching Bubba in her arms rather than letting him sit on her shoulder. It's reassuring to be able to hold him and walk around looking down at his smiling tako face.
"Wah~" He coos even as she squishes him nervously against her body. He doesn't seem to mind. She remembers reading that takos are almost indestructible and it's very hard to make them uncomfortable.
She abjectly refuses to look up at the castle as she approaches. She'd much rather not see her doom approaching so directly.
But no matter how much she wants the palace to get further away, will alone is not enough to make it happen. She arrives at the side entrance regardless, and has to shamefully use her identification to get in and slip up to her office out of anyone's sight.
The note sitting on her desk is ominous, because she knows she did not leave one there when she left. It is likely to be from Her Majesty or Her Highness, though she supposes it could also be from the Mori as unlikely as that is.
(Wistful thinking. She recognizes Her Majesty's elegant writing at a glance.)
Detective,
Please attend to me as swiftly as possible upon your arrival. I find myself with little time to spare. You will find me in the throne room. You are expected. If I am not there upon your arrival, please go about your business as usual, though refrain from any more adventures for now if you would.
Ina'nis
The Detective swallows, but pockets the note and stands up straight. "Bubba, do you know where the throne room is?"
"Wah!" The tako bobs in assent.
"Show me please. Her Majesty is expecting me."
Bubba bobs again and quickly flutters off down the hallway. He moves fast enough that she has to jog to keep up. He leads her down to the first level again, but keeps away from the main hallways and instead leads her around the back.
The Detective's eyes catch on a pair of guards as they round a corner. They're guarding a rather inconspicuous door, which Bubba floats right up to. "Wah!"
"Thank you Bubba." She mumbles, stepping up to the guards. "U-Uh, I'm Detective Watson. Her Imperial Majesty is expecting me?"
The guards simply nod. One opens the door for her. Bubba happily settles on her shoulder, and she mumbles thanks to him. His flaps flutter in pride.
Bubba has not led her directly to the throne room but instead some sort of dressing room that has a pair of doors leading out of it. The Detective is confused for a second until it occurs to her this must be the area behind the actual throne itself. Bubba knows his way around- considering he was initially summoned to show her around that's a given- so the idea of him possibly leading her wrong doesn't even occur to her.
"Wah." Bubba wahs quietly, pointing a little tentacle towards one of the doors. "Wa-ah."
The Detective can hear voices through the door. She takes a deep breath, adjusts her hat, squares her shoulders (Bubba puffs up a little and puts on a 'serious' face, mimicking her), and pushes open one of the doors.
The throne room isn't packed with people by any stretch of the imagination. There's a small group of people crowded near the throne. They're not cultists, interestingly enough, or at least not obviously. It's mostly men and women in business attired, hurriedly explaining…
The Detective cocks her head, choosing to remain hidden in the shadows at the back of the room so she can eavesdrop for a moment.
"-investment, your Majesty. Perhaps a more heavy-handed approach is necessary. Losing their support might cripple our agricultural upgrades program and stall hundreds of projects."
"It is not to you nor the crown to force an investor's hand." Her Imperial Majesty's voice is soft, but somehow cuts straight through the din in the room. "Should negotiations fall through, current projects will be supplemented until completion and a new budget can be discussed. We will do the best we can, and not anything more. We shall not overreach merely because we disapprove of someone's decision, Sir Gavin."
"Of course Your Majesty."
This sounds like a good time to step in. As much as her interrupting an important meeting just to get scolded for being a failure can ever have a 'good' time.
With a silent inhale, she steps out of the shadows. A few of the business people look surprised at her appearance, but no one stops her from stepping forward into view.
Her Majesty looks as regal as ever sitting on their throne in their usual outfit. The throne is somehow both rigid and plush at the same time with a high, stern back that forms a sort of net shape filled with tentacle motifs while the actual part where Her Majesty must sit is shaped more like a takodachi with the armrests being the flaps. It's a subtle thing for the most part. There's no obvious face on the throne to give it away, but the legs of the chair are conspicuously stubby and she's far too familiar with how a tako's flaps curl up when they're trying to be imposing (or angry) not to recognize the armrest design.
The Detective worries for when their attention will turn to her. Her Majesty's expression is neutral, their hands folded neatly, primly, with their head turned slightly up in an imposing stare (as much as closed eyes can stare) that is neither accusing nor assuring, simply… above the conversation. It's not a view the Detective is used to. In news and videos Her Majesty is usually a more gentle sort of neutral, simply watching, rather than this deliberately imposing posture they've adopted, and in person they're of course far more personable most of the time.
Her heart jumps into her throat when Her Majesty ever so slightly turns their head in her direction. She freezes under their silent judgment, feeling their gaze on her like a physical force. On her shoulder Bubba wobbles, raising a little tentacle to wave at Her Majesty.
The Detective opts to bow her head politely. They're in public. She needs to show the utmost respect- not that she doesn't usually, of course, but it's extra important now!
"My choice has been made and my policy will not be altered." Her Majesty says quietly, and the room falls silent. "We leave in five minutes. I must speak with the Detective. Please, if you would, prepare yourselves to depart and give us privacy."
The Detective can hear a few sharp inhales and a few stuttered protests, but those quickly fall away into the sound of footsteps, and then the grand entrance doors quietly closing.
"Approach, please, Detective." The tone is a request, but the Detective is under no illusion it's not an order. She hastily shuffles forward with her head still bowed, until she's a meter away from the throne.
She kneels, because what else are you supposed to do at the foot of a throne with an Empress on it? Even Bubba huffing at her doesn't dissuade her. Bubba is smart, but he would have her lean on imperial forgiveness and kindness far more than she deserves.
"Detective…" The exasperation already in Her Majesty's voice has her cringing. She's already messing up. She should have brushed up on the protocol for meeting royalty. There might not be anyone else here, but this is a professional setting- more so than her office or the family room on the fifth floor. "Look at me, please."
She obeys, forcing her head up. Her Majesty's expression is a slight frown, and she wishes with all her heart she weren't in the room right now. Maybe she could be in her office, or her home, or the other side of the planet. Anything to avoid forcing Her Majesty to deal with her incompetence anymore.
The Detective quails when Her Majesty rises from their throne, looming over her, and steps forward until they're directly in front of the Detective.
Her breath catches when Her Majesty takes to one knee, mirroring her position, and the Detective wants to scream. Somehow she's managed to drag Her Majesty down to her level. She must have gotten some signal wrong, and now they are paying the price for it.
"Always the dramatic, aren't you Detective?" Her Majesty murmurs. They crack one eye open a sliver, and Amelia fights the urge to stare at the twinkling void beneath the lid. "What is an Empress to do?"
The Detective doesn't speak. It doesn't feel appropriate.
"Gura told me what happened, and I find myself in the position of needing to apologize again. We hired you for one job, then assigned you to another which was functionally quite different." The Empress says. "We underestimated you, Detective. We expected a sleuth, and we received a commando with investigative skills."
Forget giving her another chance she doesn't deserve, Her Majesty is trying to torture her failures until they become positives. The Empress should not need to put in such effort to excuse their underling's failure to the underling in question. It's bad enough that they likely have to spin a lie to the media for her sake, much less to her own face.
"However, the fact is that you now have this job, and must adapt, so I have a proposal for you, Detective." Her Majesty says quietly. "Today I wish for you to investigate someone for me. You do remember the head priestess of the church of Edinburgh, yes?"
"The old lady?"
"Yes. I wish for you to look into her."
That feels like a bad idea, this is what she got wrong last time, but she can't refuse an order. "Yes, Your Majesty."
"However, at the end of the day, you are to report to me and tell me in exact detail what you did. If it was improper, I wish for you to go back in time and retry until you succeed in completing your task in a non-intrusive manner. Consider this… training, of a sort."
Training. She's been reduced from proper jobs to training because she's so incompetent. If she weren't commanded to look at Her Majesty, she would grovel in shame. "Yes, Your Majesty. You are too kind, Your Majesty."
"Consider taking Bubba with you. Takos are almost unkillable and Bubba is a responsible and skilled little thing. He will not hold you back."
"Wah!" Bubba agrees cheerily.
"And, as always, Detective, I expect you to call us if you feel the need to take further action." Her Majesty says slowly and deliberately, as if speaking to someone particularly stupid, which the Detective supposes she is.
"Y-Yes, Your Majesty." She mumbles, ashamed. Of course she needs to be reminded of her past failure. It's what led to this situation in the first place. "I will endeavor not to disappoint this time."
"You have never disappointed, Detective." Her Majesty lies. She does it so easily, as if she actually believes what she's saying. An expert politician without a doubt. "I must leave, but again, please, call me."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
As soon as Her Majesty removes their gaze from her, the Detective bows her head again and waits until she can hear the door close, signifying Her Majesty has left. She then takes a deep breath and looks at Bubba.
"Wah." Bubba wahs. He pats her cheek. "Wah!"
"I disappointed Her Majesty, Bubba."
"Wah…" Bubba huffs.
"I have to succeed this time. I can't let them down again."
"Wah wah." Bubba hops in place, looking determined. "Waaah!"
If only she could feel a fraction of what Bubba feels. She pets him on the head, and despite still having his 'determined' face on he leans into it.
"Wah…" Bubba whispers dramatically.
"Have you ever played stalker before, Bubba? Sneaking around?" The Detective- or maybe Amelia? Anything to do with Bubba feels like Amelia most of the time- asks softly.
"Wah!" Bubba, to her surprise, nods.
"Oh." The Detective blinks. "Uh, okay then."
Most of the trip to Edinburgh is the same as the day before, except she has a tako on her shoulder whose serious expression draws attention (for its adorableness, she can only assume). Even she, despite her anxiety, ends up cracking a grin at the serious little nod Bubba gives to the attendant as they step out of the teleportation chamber in Edinburg.
It's only at this point The Detective realizes an issue. "Bubba… I can't take you back in time. The watch doesn't work like that."
Bubba's flaps stiffen, then curl up. He looks at her pitifully. "Wah…"
"That doesn't mean you can't help." She assures him. "It just means we have to avoid time travel today. I've worked like that before. We'll just have to keep a sharp eye out, and if I do have to do any time travel, make sure I always come back to get you."
"Wah."
"Do you know how time travel works, Bubba?"
"Wah…" Bubba shakes his head.
"Well, uh, explaining everything would be complicated." She says. "But if you ever see me, like, disappear into fuzzy static, that's normal. It just means that version of me has been invalidated, and the 'real' me from the future is probably the cause of it, and is probably nearby, okay?"
One of Bubba's flaps rises while the other flops. His brow is scrunched up in a thinking face. He points at her, and then shudders his whole body, then points at himself, and then flutters off her shoulder and makes a point of looking around. "Wah?"
"Yeah, look for me. Maybe be subtle about it though." The Detective says, holding out her hands for Bubba to land on. He does so with a little 'wah!', his flaps sticking out like a kid holding their arms out to balance. "If I'm time traveling, that probably means something is wrong."
"Wah." Bubba nods seriously.
"Okay." The Detective mumbles, only noticing now that her little conversation with a very animated takodachi has gathered her a few amused looks from people walking by on the street. "Uh, let's get out of sight."
"Wah~" Bubba whispers, flattening himself on her shoulder a bit.
Amelia- and this is Amelia- can't help it. "Agent Bubba, going dark."
"Wahhh~" Bubba repeats, his flaps wiggling while a smile is on his face.
"Okay." The Detective mumbles as they round a corner into a less populated street. "So, last time I did this, I had to get on a few rooftops just to stakeout the place."
"Wah?" Bubba tilts his head. He points at a nearby house. "Wah?"
"A bit taller. That hotel actually." The Detective clarifies, pointing out her prior vantage point. "I also staked out the other side. There was this sorta strip mall thing I managed to get on. I think we should repeat this, if only from one direction. It'll give us a vantage point."
"Wah." Bubba nods rapidly.
It's fairly simple to repeat her past actions and get back up onto the hotel's roof. Bubba seems oddly excited after seeing her jump, and she doesn't exactly get why but at least he's happy.
The stakeout is a much different experience with a companion. It makes lunch more entertaining, at least, when she can feed Bubba crackers and watch his little flaps wiggle in excitement while he eats, as if he doesn't eat this all the time and it's the best thing he's ever had.
Honestly, it makes her squished cheese sandwich slightly more enjoyable to eat in its own right. If Bubba can enjoy his lunch, she can too. She even remembered to bring a drink this time. She's just glad the juice boxes didn't burst in her pocket.
Yes, plural. She brought one for Bubba. She punches through the top with the straw for him, and then does the same for her own.
"Have you ever had apple juice Bubba?" She asks, watching him take an experimental sip from the straw. The tako nods, taking another, longer, very dramatic sip that makes his whole body quiver from the effort. Amelia sighs and smiles and takes a sip of her own.
They're lucky the weather is nice today. Rain would make this significantly more complicated. Even a slightly strong wind could be a hassle, especially at this height.
With their lunch finished and the garbage stuffed back in her pocket, they settle in to watch the church.
It's just as dull the second time around (or the third, if you count watching from the back), but stakeouts are always that way. What surprises Ame is Bubba's patience. Rather than his usual squeaks and protests and flails for attention he's quiet, barely moving, turning his head very slightly to sweep his eyes across the scenery.
The Detective keeps getting distracted by the takos atop the church's spire. They're more like little purple blobs at this distance, but it still feels odd to see them up there rather than down with the cultists or at least in the yard.
Maybe they're smart and don't like the church members either. Her research has implied that takos have human-like intelligence, just that they rarely feel the need to act like it.
At some point she can't identify Bubba switched from perching on the edge of the roof to her lap; no less alert but much more comfortable. It helps her too, because her hands have something to do in stroking Bubba's head rather than absently clenching and unclenching them as she waits.
She sees some minor similarities to her prior observations. People leave at some of the same times; shift changes she assumes. Though they all have to stop for a few minutes at the entrance because…
The Detective squints and leans forward. Her sight is good, but not nearly as sharp as her hearing. "Bubba…"
"Wah?"
"Is there something at the entrance?"
Bubba mimics her lean forward, flaps sticking up at attention. When that's not enough for him, he floats off the building into the sky, keeping high enough up so as to not be too noticeable until it's hard to distinguish him from the background.
She doesn't have to wait too long for him to float back into view and land in her lap. "Wah!"
"There's something?"
Bubba nods. He then attempts to stand up straight, puts a serious expression on, and salutes.
"A solider?"
He wiggles a tentacle in a so-so gesture. He then points at her and shouts "Wah wah wah!" and attempts an (extremely ineffective) tackle.
"A guard?"
"Wah…" Again, the so-so gesture. He takes a moment to think, then his face brightens. He mimes holding something in one tentacle, and then putting something else in that thing he's holding with another, and then eating the thing he just put inside…
"Oh! A police officer!"
"Wah!" Bubba nods rapidly.
"I guess it would make sense they have the place under surveillance given the… well… stuff in the basement." The Detective mumbles.
"Wah…" Bubba mumbles. She's not sure if he's trying to say something, or just copying her.
They keep watching. The Detective takes further notes about the schedule the church seems to operate on, including when mass and ceremonies are held and when they simply receive an usually large number of visitors.
"Am I going about this wrong, Bubba?" The Detective asks after they hit four in the afternoon with no sign of the old woman. "I'm too used to relying on my time travel for this stuff."
"Wah." Bubba gives a noncommittal wiggle.
"There are other ways to get information." She muses aloud so Bubba can comment if he hears something wrong. "Internet research can be vital, though I'm not so great at it. It wasn't a big thing back in Uncle's time so he couldn't teach it to me, and I never really learned. I know how to find public records and stuff, but that's a lot more limited than you might think, especially when they don't have any prior criminal record to infer from."
"Wah…" Bubba frowns, nodding.
"Of course, another problem is that investigations generally involve, uh, interviews." The Detective mutters. "And I'm not great at those. I've done them before for, like, identity theft, which is often a lot simpler than you might think. Mostly just figuring out where and how it happened and asking around, and going from there."
Bubba hums.
"I'm just bad at my job, Bubba."
"Waaah!" Bubba pouts. He turns around and headbutts her again. "Wah, wah, wah!"
"S-Sorry…" She mumbles, rubbing his head as an apology.
Bubba huffs, his flaps curl in momentary anger. It doesn't last because the power of head rubs is too strong, but he's made a firm point. You do not argue with a tako and expect to win.
It doesn't feel right to just… sit there, knowing Her Majesty is expecting results and having to simply wait for them. She can't go back empty-handed. She can't face Her Majesty's disappointment again.
"I suppose we could interview church members." The Detective considers, taking note of another small group of cultists leaving around four thirty. "Though I think the police are probably better suited to that."
"Wah?" Bubba tilts his head.
"I know how to do them, but they're nerve-wracking." She admits. "Talking to suspects is scary. I usually let the police handle that part. I sometimes talk to witnesses and other people who might have information, but…"
Bubba listens patiently.
"Unless it's a Special Request, of course." The Detective admits. "Everything is different for those."
"Wah?"
"Can't hold back when doing a special request." She murmurs. "Also time travel, so I can fix my mistakes easier."
Bubba expresses his understanding with a soft cooing noise.
"I don't know why I have an easier time dealing with dangerous situations than simple ones." She continues. "I know I can handle this if I could break into a few houses and listen at a few doors, but I'm not allowed to."
"Wah." Bubba nods firmly.
"What do I do then?"
"Wah wah wah, wah!" Bubba chirps, pointing at the crowd below. "Wah-wah, wah wah!"
She's not quite sure what he's saying, but she's fairly sure it's cute- er, has to do with the crowd. Yes, the crowd. She isn't getting distracted by Bubba again. "The crowd?"
Bubba nods rapidly. His flaps flail wildly with that motion.
"What… oh!" She blinks. "Talk to some of the worshippers, right?"
"Waaah!" Bubba smiles. She pats him on the head, and he purrs proudly.
"Now, or second cycle?"
"WAH." The single tentacle Bubba stomps the ground with is a pretty telling (and cute) 'NOW!' gesture.
"Okay, okay…" She can't disappoint Her Majesty and Bubba.
The Detective carefully descends from the hotel's roof onto the fire exit, and then holds her hands up for Bubba to jump on… forgetting that he can fly and doesn't need her help. Bubba indulges her anyways and does a little wiggle like a cat preparing to pounce before hopping off the edge of the roof into her hands.
He even poses proudly like he just did a trick. Amelia kisses him on the forehead, and he squeaks in protest.
"Yes I know, you're a very impressive tako." She reassures when he pouts at her. "But you're also cute."
"WAH." Bubba huffs, pretending to be angry and curling his flaps.
She quickly descends the fire escape, vaulting over the railing at the second floor and landing without issue.
"Wah-wah~!" Bubba says, imitating a 'tada~!'.
"It wasn't that impressive."
"WAH-WAH~!" Bubba repeats, louder.
"Alright, alright, shush." She mumbles in embarrassment.
With Bubba sitting smugly on her shoulder, she peeks out to the street and scans the path leading up to the cathedral. She keeps that position, hiding around a corner, until someone who isn't obviously one of the cultists working there leaves the cathedral, and moves to intercept.
She consciously straightens her posture, schools her expression, and pulls out her pencil and notepad as she closes in. She has a routine for interviews to help maintain some semblance of professionalism.
"Excuse me ma'am." She calls, raising her hand to catch the lady's attention. The lady in question is middle-aged, with short, tousled orange hair streaked with a silvery grey and accented by sharp green eyes set behind round spectacles. Her outfit is fairly normal, consisting of a beige cardigan overtop a purple shirt and a long black skirt that goes down to her ankles.
"Yes?" The lady responds, face neutral, eyes searching the Detective's face. Her hands are clasped and her tone is cordial. The Detective feels a bit more confident. She's used to this. She calls this 'the salesman response' because it's how people deal with salesmen. Polite, but plainly disinterested.
"I'm Detective Watson, on business for an investigation into the church by order of the crown." The Detective says. It's true, after all. Besides, it makes her sound more professional, and therefore more likely to be cooperated with. "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind answering a few questions. Won't take more than a minute or two."
It's always a gamble whether people will actually agree to questioning, hence why the Detective leads with the 'I'm investigating something' line. People are more inclined to help if they know it's important and not just some school project.
"I can spare a minute." The lady says with an imperious tone. "Ask your questions, Detective."
It's almost like dealing with Her Majesty, except without that hint of benevolence that makes Her Majesty so awe-inspiring. "Of course, Ma'am. May I have a name for my records?"
"Elspeth."
For a moment she thinks the lady slurred her words, until the Detective remembers she's in Scotland and some of the names here do actually sound like that.
(In the back of her mind she reminds herself she worships a god named Baelz, which isn't any less weird of a name… not that she'd ever say that aloud, much less to The First Real Thing's face.)
"Are you aware of the recent incident that took place here, Elspeth?"
"Yes." Elspeth says curtly.
…okay, one-word responses it is. "And do you have at least a passing familiarity with the local high priestess?"
"Yes."
"What would you say your impression of her is?"
"Dutiful." Elspeth replies. "She understands the needs of the faith."
That's a strange and mildly concerning phrase to hear from anyone. The Detective writes it down and pushes on. "Do you believe she's involved in the alleged illegal dealings of the church?"
"No." Elspeth says bluntly. "Whatever the Priestess is involved in, I am sure it was for the betterment of the faith."
Again, not exactly reassuring. Bubba's tentacles grip her shoulder, which she's fairly sure means he's having the same thought. Still, blind loyalty aside, that's still a vouch for the old woman.
"Thank you, Elspeth. Is there anything else you'd like to add?" The Detective asks, eager to have this impromptu interview over with.
"Indeed. You would be better focusing your investigation on your employers, and why they are so insistent in framing the priestess."
The Detective blinks twice, then inclines her head. "Noted. Thank you for your time ma'am."
Elspeth nods her head, turns on her heel, and merches smartly off the property. The Detective watches her leave in concern.
"...you're sure this is a good idea Bubba?"
"W-Wah…" Bubba mumbles while nodding, though far less confident than before.
"We can try again." The Detective says, forcing some determination into her voice. "For Her Majesty."
"Wah." Bubba nods, standing up to his full (small, adorable) height. He thrusts out a tentacle in a clear 'onward!' gesture. "WAAAH!"
She delves into the next interview with intense focus, and gets very different results. A casual church-goer, male, middle aged. He's shocked at the allegations, doesn't know what to think about them, and thought the old woman was nice but admitted he hadn't actually talked to her that much or anything.
With the confidence from that relatively normal interview, the Detective moves onto a few others, then a small group walking out, and then even some people just walking by to get some public opinions, and before she knows it the sun is setting, it's eight in the evening, and she's spent nearly three and a half hours straight doing interviews.
"Okay, that's… forty people; a decent dataset for general opinion. Probably needs to be expanded though." She tells Bubba while flipping through the pages of her notepad. "Not the most useful thing either because, you know, opinions are just words."
"Wah." Bubba hums.
"Still, got some info out of this." She says, pointing to a few entries. "It seems the idea that the clergy can do no wrong is pretty strong in this area. There were a lot of people willing to believe the church must have had a good reason for magic arms dealing and slave trading, regardless of whether the old woman was involved."
"Wah…" Bubba nods, frowning.
"You'd think that with Her Majesty being the head of the religion they'd be more inclined to trust her before the local priestess."
Bubba nods again, silently this time, his little tako face furrowed in thought.
"I think this says a lot more about the local mindset than the old woman though." The Detective says. "She may play a part in it; the sentiment that she specifically knows what's best seems rather prevalent, but that's not a certainty."
"Wah." Bubba hums. He points to a few specific interviews, even flipping pages to get to the right ones. "Wah wah wah, wah-wah, waaaah, wah!"
"I… huh, yeah." She blinks. "I guess they all said pretty much the exact same line, didn't they? 'For the betterment of the faith.'"
"Wah." Bubba nods.
"Quoting something maybe?" She asks him.
"Wah…" Bubba wobbles his head to communicate he's unsure.
"I guess we can't jump to conclusions." She agrees. "You're right as always Bubba. You're a smart tako."
Bubba hums. His flaps wiggle happily. She pets him on impulse, and he obliges her.
"We should probably get back to Her Majesty." The Detective mumbles. "Right Bubba?"
"Waaah." Bubba coos, still pressing himself into her hand. He's barely paying attention now. "Waaah…"
"I'll take that as a yes."
Bubba purrs, and almost flops over when she removes the hand petting his head. He whines pleadingly and paws a tentacle at her hand.
"Nevermind, you're a needy tako." She says, unable to prevent a smile. She pockets her notebook so she can devote both hands full time to petting the tako on the return trip. No one gives her a second look when she walks down the street holding a purring tako.
She'll never argue with an uneventful return trip. As far as she's concerned, uneventful means safe. Uneventful means good. Uneventful means boring and a boring trip means one where she doesn't have to shoot something.
The palace closes to the public at eight- on weekdays that is, it's earlier on weekends- so it's rather quiet when the Detective steps off the teleportation pad. There's a janitor and a cultist in the hallway, neither of which pay her any mind as she nervously hustles to one of the access stairwells to stay out of the way and start climbing up to the fifth floor.
"Do you think Her Majesty is done with her job today? Like, whatever that trip was?" She asks Bubba.
"Wah." Bubba nods.
"...maybe I should wait until tomorrow to-"
"WAH."
"Okay, okay, I'll go." She says meekly.
It's with shame she shows her ID to one of the guards and gets permission to enter the fourth floor, and from there get up to the fifth floor.
She presses her ear to the stairwell door before opening it, hoping to get some clue what she's walking into before she possibly interrupts Her Majesty or Her Highness.
No sound greets her ears beyond the faint noise of air conditioning. With a grimace, she carefully pushes the door open, trying to be as quiet as possible.
Bubba flutters off her shoulder and down the hall, entirely unbothered by the possibility of disturbing Their Imperial Majesties.
The Detective creeps down the hallway, eyes and ears straining. What if they're in one of the extra rooms to the right of the bedroom? She doesn't even know what those rooms are. What if they're dangerous to enter? What if they're doing something that's not meant to be interrupted?
It probably wouldn't be appropriate to press her ear to every door and try to hear if anything is going on inside. Too intrusive. That's exactly what Her Majesty is trying to teach her not to do.
"Wah!" Bubba calls to her. She looks up to see him pointing at Her Majesty's meditation room. "Wa-ah!"
"Her Majesty is there?"
"Wah." Bubba nods.
"I should wait until they're-"
"WAH."
"B-But they're meditating." The Detective insists. "They're probably relaxing! I can't interrupt that!"
"Wah…" Bubba pouts. He lands on the door handle and starts trying to push it open. "Waaah…!"
"Bubba no!" She whispers desperately. She grabs him and tugs him off the door. "You can't bother Her Majesty!"
Bubba puffs up like a balloon. "WAH!"
"I-I won't go anywhere, we can just wait." She pleads. "Okay? I'll still talk to Her Maj-"
Bubba abruptly goes still, his flaps fall slack for a moment. He opens his mouth, but the usual 'wah' does not come out. Instead, it's a familiar voice: "Do come in if that's you, Detective, I would hate to keep you waiting."
Her tako closes his mouth, and a second later Bubba shakes himself and then looks up at her, then points at the door. "Wah."
She's torn between being surprised, terrified, and amazed at the revelation that Her Majesty can pass messages through Bubba (though, if she really thinks about it, Her Majesty has implied in the past that they can hijack the senses of takodachis; it would make sense a powerful priestess like themself would be able to do far more than that), so instead she settles on being relieved that Bubba doesn't seem at all bothered by it. He responds to her concerned look with a coo and a nuzzle into her wrist before again pointing at the door.
With nothing else she can really do, she reluctantly opens the door and slips inside.
The room inside is different than she remembers. There was light before, though she can't remember the source, but now it's simply black. She can't see her hand in front of her face, and if it weren't for Bubba's weight on her other hand she wouldn't know if he was there.
On impulse she taps her foot, defaulting to her echolocation… only for the sound to cut out instantly. Her mind is blank for a second as she tries to interpret this until she realizes the room must be soundproofed both internally and (probably) externally. Meditation in absolute silence. That makes a certain amount of sense.
"Hello, Detective." Her Majesty's voice whispers from the darkness. "I was worried you were not going to show up. You must have been quite busy."
"Y-Yes, Your Majesty. Sorry, Your Majesty."
"It is quite alright, Detective. I cannot fault you for enthusiastic work." Her Majesty's voice still manages to echo despite the soundproofing. It's enough to send a shiver down The Detective's spine.
"I apologize for interrupting your meditation." She says quickly, before Her Majesty can brush past her intrusion like they do all her other faults.
"It is quite alright. I am plenty used to intrusion. Gura continues to forget the room is sensitive to the slightest movements of the door, so you are not the first and certainly not the last." Her Majesty says in amusement.
The Detective nods, then realizes she can't be seen like that. She hesitates for a moment on if she should say something.
"Problem, Detective? You look anxious."
"I-" Wait, she looks anxious? It's pitch black. Her Majesty can see in the dark then? The Detective swallows thickly. She needs to be conscious of her composure even now. "It is nothing, Your Majesty."
"Hmmm, as you say Detective." Her Majesty murmurs. "Now, I believe you have a report to give, yes?"
"Yes, Your Majesty." The Detective says, standing up straight. She can feel Bubba doing the same in her hand, and in her mind can see him tilting his head up and his little flaps sticking up at attention.
Recounting everything is a remarkably short affair all things considered, especially since more than half her day was spent on a pointless stakeout. She makes sure to highlight Bubba's contributions, of course. He was instrumental in the whole process after all. It was his idea to go talk to people in the first place!
"Quite the day indeed…" Her Majesty hums. "And Detective?"
She tenses. "Y-Yes?"
"Well done on not intruding, but still finding a way to gather information, if not quite the information you might have wished for." Her Majesty praises. The words tickle her ears, and the Detective makes an active effort not to shiver. "Not so hard, is it not?"
"Y-Yeah." The Detective says, because it would be inappropriate to say anything else, or reiterate how much she relied on Bubba for guidance. "Of course, Your Majesty."
"Good. Tomorrow, please report to Captain Dyne instead of myself just after noon. I do believe you agreed to aid with a security test, yes?" Her Majesty hums. "You should have received an email about it as well today. It was somewhat hastily assembled, so pardon the short notice."
"Yes, Your Majesty." The Detective says, and bows in (what she assumes is) their direction. "I will ensure it is thoroughly tested for your protection."
"My my, how noble of you." Her Majesty says. The Detective almost thinks their voice could be considered teasing, though The Detective hardly thinks she could be considered worthy of such a familiar sort of interaction. The tone is more likely to be amusement at the quaintness of her statement. "Your service is appreciated, my knight."
That has to be mockery. She's overstepped again. The Detective drops her head and swallows thickly. "I-If that's all, Y-Your Majesty…?"
A soft laugh rolls past her ears. "Of course, Detective. You have had a long day. Do not let me keep you."
An absurd thing to say, and she has no doubt Her Majesty knows it. She has no choice but to stay if the Empress so wishes. Permission to leave is just another of their endless kindnesses. Without another word to interrupt Her Majesty's meditation, The Detective retreats from the room and hastily makes the stairwell.
She only gives a passing thought to why one of the unknown rooms she passes, closed and dark when she entered not a few minutes ago, now has light shining underneath the door.