Mosswood.
The countryside settlement was warmer than the region of Tabira, likely for all the grass and trees (growing much more freely than the ones at home) that absorbed the heat and helped radiate it around. At least, that was what Jasmine felt was happening as she paced the hot dirt roads. For the brief time she spent in Rubias in her childhood, the heat there was unforgettable. Though the many years in Tabira had weakened her memory of just how harsh it might be, Mosswood was a reminder of it - not as extreme in the slightest, but arid enough to make her hope to find a refreshing drink and some shade once their work was done.
To her, any of the two towns the guilds had sent them to visit - Rivercross Acres or Mosswood - were equally as appealing, new lands with new faces to see and different tasks to do. Though, she hoped not to be dealing with the enclosed spaces of Darkhowl Woods, especially not where witches were involved. Uncouth types, the lot of them. Destructive to the natural order...
As such, when Noir insisted that they travel to Mosswood, she had no complaints. He'd had his fair share to say about an elderly woman being unfairly judged, and seemed to get even more invested when the local journalist appeared to greet them.
"Hey, you two wouldn't happen to be that Pas de Deux team, would ya?"
The twinkling gold of the Emolga's pelt drew their attention as the flying squirrel swept in apparently out of nowhere and landed right in their path, immediately pulling out a pad of note paper and a quill.
"Yup, that's us," Noir smirked at the significantly smaller Pokémon. "You're the one who found out about our little old grandma, right?"
The journalist - Addy, if Jasmine was remembering correctly - tapped the bowtie around his neck thoughtfully and returned the grin. "You could say that! Really it was just a matter of being in the right place at the right time, but then again that is my job! Thing is, I can only work to find the truth with my eyes and ears. Fighting isn't something we reporters pride ourselves on. And even though I'm sure the folks back in Tabira would love to have their star students out here to handle this problem, I know a lot better than to trust somebody at their word just because they're in charge."
Noir's grin grew noticeably wider. "I like him," he murmured, nudging Jasmine lightly with his leg.
She returned his teasing with a light slap on the thigh; he was here as an assistant, not to be disrespectful and shove her about.
"Anyways, glad to have you here!" Addy continued. "Not that the first look says a lot about anybody, but you two look plenty capable. Ya mind telling me a little about yourselves for the article?"
"The article?" Jasmine repeated, prompting more explanation.
"Yup! The Tabiran Informer is my pride and joy, so I'm always looking for a good story to write up. Don't suppose you've read it?"
Jasmine could only shake her head, explaining that the public news often got away from her. Noir, on the other paw, brightened up almost immediately. "The Informer?" he asked. "You don't write it all by yourself, do you? I enjoyed last month's story about the feud between a couple of Tracker teams!"
"Glad to see my rag is doing what I wanted it to - spreading the word!" Addy grinned. "That was me, all right. And a crowning achievement for the month, too! Hopefully this one will top it, though. Especially if we can get in a happy enough ending to get old Leite back home safe and sound."
"On that note, we'd like to speak with her before we go looking for the real culprit," posited Jasmine. She wasn't all that familiar with how to go about catching a thief, but it only made sense for them to visit the elder woman first, if only for courtesy's sake.
Addy looked a little crestfallen. "So, no interview before you go to work then?"
Noir was the one to take the lead this time. "No hard feelings, buddy, it's just that we need to try and catch whoever's really doing this as quick as we can." He shrugged, splaying his claws in theatrical helplessness. "Every second counts, you know. We can always tell you a little about ourselves after we're done, anyway! Seeing how you write the news, I'm sure you'll get the important stuff down even if we tell it to you out of order."
In much the same way as he had done to Noir only moments ago, Addy perked up from the pep-talk. "Yeah, you're right! Just so long as you promise to give me all the facts when all's said and done, okay? Mister...?" He raised his quill and waved it in a small circle, prompting for a name.
"Noir." Noir chuckled quietly, and then reached aside and patted Jasmine on the back, scooting her forward a bit and prompting her to gently slap him once more. "...And this is Jasmine."
She grunted her annoyance, mumbling a word that sounded like "oaf" as quickly and quietly under her breath as she could, and then regained her composure. "It was lovely to meet you," she said to Addy. "We promise to return as soon as possible."
"Right. Now you two better get going!" Addy's quill moved so quickly that it seemed as though he had only made a single stroke, and then the pages snapped together as he lowered his notes and pointed down the road with his feathery utensil. "She's staying at the inn just down the way..." he paused to raise his other paw to his mouth in a sidelong whisper, suddenly free of any notes. "If you ask me, it's practically house arrest. But at least the owner's treating her with some dignity." His guard then dropped, once more raising to a cheerful pitch. "Just ask for Leite and explain what you're here for, and I'm sure she'll be willing to see you!"
"Great! Thanks a lot!"
Noir took off without any further prompting, leaving Jasmine sputtering for a brief few seconds before she hurried after him, waving her fist in the air. "Noir, for goodness' sake! Stay by my side you lout!"
-----
"A sweet thing like you, being accused of stealing books?"
Noir kept his tone as sweet and friendly as ever, a talent that he'd trained through years of experience, but the look in his eyes as the cloaked old girl finished recounting her halted trip home revealed what he really felt. It was no surprise, really, that Pokémon whom others regarded as "suspicious" would be questioned and mistrusted at every turn, but that didn't make it any less unfair. Besides, who would go accusing an old woman - especially one directly related to one of the leading members of the guild - of stealing from it?
Then again, he didn't know much about this "Madras" girl himself. Jazz seemed to know somewhat better details about the relation between the two of them, since during Leite's yarn she had kept a steady eye between him and her, sometimes putting in a quick word to explain something that he didn't quite get. The fact that both Leite and her granddaughter worked at libraries was a fact that the old lady provided herself, though.
"I was just as surprised as you are, believe you me," Leite sighed. "In fact I still am. A librarian I am, and yet they seem to think that's reason enough for me to steal from my own granddaughter and her friends. Hmph! The nerve."
"You certainly wouldn't have done it," Jasmine assured her. "That's why we've come. There must be some reason why the locals would suspect you. Maybe the real culprit happened to be close to you when the robbery happened, or they share some similar feature with you. Your voice, or maybe your breed or age. Tell us, was there anything suspicious happening on the day you left Tabira?"
Noir drummed his claws on the wooden countertop, somewhat distancing himself from the conversation and instead spacing out, his eyes seeking some hidden knowledge nobody could really see. Jasmine had a point; it was possible that the real thief had set Leite up as a red herring, but if they went to the length to make it happen, they must have been skilled enough to make the whole thing work without tipping their hand. While Leite gave an apologetic line that ultimately led to an answer of "no" in the background, he pondered what other clues they could use to track this guy down.
If it were him, he'd use his illusions to create misleading roads behind him as he ran from the crime scene, and then after a little while switch it up to disguise the books as part of his body - whatever he couldn't just stuff into his fur, anyway. From there it would just be a matter of carefully swapping out his disguises at each opportunity, making himself harder to track down. And that was even assuming that they happened to go along to Mosswood at the same time Leite did.
Besides, he was thinking too strictly about what he would have done. There was no telling if the thief was a Zorua or Zoroark like he was, or at the very least a witch with practice in the same tricks, which meant illusions could very well be a talent they wouldn't know. In that case, sticking to the shadows all the way through was the next best thing.
"Did anybody have proof that the guy came through this way?" he prompted.
Jasmine's mouth had been open, as if she was saying something, and as her eyes flicked to him she closed it and gave him a stern look. Probably interrupted something she thought was important. Well, no big deal - this was his sort of work, after all, and she would have to follow his lead.
Leite looked equally unhappy, though as she opened her mouth to speak it turned out it wasn't about his manners. "Only one, I'm afraid. And he's the one who took the opportunity to cast the blame on me." She jerked a thumb over her shoulder toward the seats at the opposite end of the inn's cafeteria, pointing out a Machoke and Braixen seated at a far table. "That yellow scoundrel there."
"Are my ears burning?" the fox prompted as he stood up, a cheerful grin on his face.
The Machoke reached up and clamped a single big fist around his spindly forearm without a second thought. With a single yank, he was seated again. "Sit down. You're here for community service, not to rile up old Leite again."
"Indeed! And I'd say helping these two find their culprit would be my share of serving the community, no?"
The female snorted and folded her arms over her chest. "As long as you don't try to cast the blame again, then that's fine. Tell them the truth, Xavier, and nothing but."
"By my honour, I would never stoop so low as to lie!" The Braixen scoffed at the thought, then cocked his head in their direction to offer another charming smile. "The facts, gentle sir, ma'am, are simple." He reached up to his forehead as though to tip a hat, except there was nothing there, causing him to look momentarily unhappy. "Those books taken from the grand library in Tabira were reported missing only two days before our dear Miss Leite's arrival. And frankly, one was found in the streets when she arrived, which had the local law enforcement in quite the tizzy, I assure you. They are valuable after all, holding decades worth of information on various works in Pokémon biology and alchemical formulas."
"Which is why the word went out that they need to be returned as soon as possible," offered the Machoke. She held out a hand, as though she were offering up her share of information physically as well as verbally. "Madras and the rest of the Scholars made it clear that the alchemy in those books could easily be misused by anyone with the wrong sort of goals, to devastating effect I should add. Especially if they turn out to be a witch."
"Ultimately, that one hardback was directly in the path Miss Leite had taken, which led me to believe she may be related to its sudden appearance." Xavier waved one of his dainty paws in the air. "And as it turns out, she is indeed a librarian. Perhaps the goal was to store them in her own haven of knowledge, to share with the masses less fortunate to access the Great Tree of Tabira?"
Noir felt himself bristle. That sort of a conclusion was so flimsy; who would ever try to pass it off as a clue to the thief? Xavier was probably making up a story just to get out of community work as quickly as possible.
So then, why was he getting so upset? he wondered as Leite said something about Bianca and herself only allowing academics into their library. The guy was only doing the same thing he would've done in this sort of situation. With the guilds hounding him everywhere, he must be doing his best to meet their quota for good deeds as quickly as possible, so he could be on his way. ...It was probably the fact that he picked an old woman - one who, for the most part, seemed friendly and not the least bit suspicious - as the scapegoat. Yeah. He knew what it was like to be in Xavier's boots, but just as much how Leite was feeling.
"That is idle speculation at best," Jasmine announced firmly. "Now, about that book. Where exactly was it found, and what condition is it in? May we see it?"
The Machoke frowned. "Well, that one's being escorted back to Tabira already; we don't want it to stay where the thief can reclaim it. But we can show you where it was found."
"Let's go then." Noir shoved his chair back and stepped down to once again support his weight on his own two feet. "We're wasting too much time." The forceful nature of his words caught up to him quickly, and he backpedaled as best he could. The old lady could use some cheering up, at least.
"Not to worry, Miss Leite!" he purred. "This case is being handled by an expert, and the real thief will be found. I don't suppose as a reward for our efforts I could trouble a beautiful lady like yourself for a home-cooked meal~?"
Leite looked up at him with a gentle smile, and laughed. "Home-cooked? Might be hard to do that until I've made it back to Fableton. Besides which I don't fancy myself as talented a cook as I am a keeper of the written word, young man. But I suppose if all is said and done I can spare one more night here in Mosswood before I must return."
"Then our work will be done by tonight~" Noir gently took the significantly smaller woman's hand and kissed it.
"Right, too much of this sappy stuff for me." It was now the burly fighting Pokémon's turn to shove their chair back. "We're going, loverboy. You can go on your date later. Xavier, get up."
"My my, first I must sit down and now I must stand! Would it be rude of me to ask you to make up your mind, Miss Marble?"
Noir kept his tone as sweet and friendly as ever, a talent that he'd trained through years of experience, but the look in his eyes as the cloaked old girl finished recounting her halted trip home revealed what he really felt. It was no surprise, really, that Pokémon whom others regarded as "suspicious" would be questioned and mistrusted at every turn, but that didn't make it any less unfair. Besides, who would go accusing an old woman - especially one directly related to one of the leading members of the guild - of stealing from it?
Then again, he didn't know much about this "Madras" girl himself. Jazz seemed to know somewhat better details about the relation between the two of them, since during Leite's yarn she had kept a steady eye between him and her, sometimes putting in a quick word to explain something that he didn't quite get. The fact that both Leite and her granddaughter worked at libraries was a fact that the old lady provided herself, though.
"I was just as surprised as you are, believe you me," Leite sighed. "In fact I still am. A librarian I am, and yet they seem to think that's reason enough for me to steal from my own granddaughter and her friends. Hmph! The nerve."
"You certainly wouldn't have done it," Jasmine assured her. "That's why we've come. There must be some reason why the locals would suspect you. Maybe the real culprit happened to be close to you when the robbery happened, or they share some similar feature with you. Your voice, or maybe your breed or age. Tell us, was there anything suspicious happening on the day you left Tabira?"
Noir drummed his claws on the wooden countertop, somewhat distancing himself from the conversation and instead spacing out, his eyes seeking some hidden knowledge nobody could really see. Jasmine had a point; it was possible that the real thief had set Leite up as a red herring, but if they went to the length to make it happen, they must have been skilled enough to make the whole thing work without tipping their hand. While Leite gave an apologetic line that ultimately led to an answer of "no" in the background, he pondered what other clues they could use to track this guy down.
If it were him, he'd use his illusions to create misleading roads behind him as he ran from the crime scene, and then after a little while switch it up to disguise the books as part of his body - whatever he couldn't just stuff into his fur, anyway. From there it would just be a matter of carefully swapping out his disguises at each opportunity, making himself harder to track down. And that was even assuming that they happened to go along to Mosswood at the same time Leite did.
Besides, he was thinking too strictly about what he would have done. There was no telling if the thief was a Zorua or Zoroark like he was, or at the very least a witch with practice in the same tricks, which meant illusions could very well be a talent they wouldn't know. In that case, sticking to the shadows all the way through was the next best thing.
"Did anybody have proof that the guy came through this way?" he prompted.
Jasmine's mouth had been open, as if she was saying something, and as her eyes flicked to him she closed it and gave him a stern look. Probably interrupted something she thought was important. Well, no big deal - this was his sort of work, after all, and she would have to follow his lead.
Leite looked equally unhappy, though as she opened her mouth to speak it turned out it wasn't about his manners. "Only one, I'm afraid. And he's the one who took the opportunity to cast the blame on me." She jerked a thumb over her shoulder toward the seats at the opposite end of the inn's cafeteria, pointing out a Machoke and Braixen seated at a far table. "That yellow scoundrel there."
"Are my ears burning?" the fox prompted as he stood up, a cheerful grin on his face.
The Machoke reached up and clamped a single big fist around his spindly forearm without a second thought. With a single yank, he was seated again. "Sit down. You're here for community service, not to rile up old Leite again."
"Indeed! And I'd say helping these two find their culprit would be my share of serving the community, no?"
The female snorted and folded her arms over her chest. "As long as you don't try to cast the blame again, then that's fine. Tell them the truth, Xavier, and nothing but."
"By my honour, I would never stoop so low as to lie!" The Braixen scoffed at the thought, then cocked his head in their direction to offer another charming smile. "The facts, gentle sir, ma'am, are simple." He reached up to his forehead as though to tip a hat, except there was nothing there, causing him to look momentarily unhappy. "Those books taken from the grand library in Tabira were reported missing only two days before our dear Miss Leite's arrival. And frankly, one was found in the streets when she arrived, which had the local law enforcement in quite the tizzy, I assure you. They are valuable after all, holding decades worth of information on various works in Pokémon biology and alchemical formulas."
"Which is why the word went out that they need to be returned as soon as possible," offered the Machoke. She held out a hand, as though she were offering up her share of information physically as well as verbally. "Madras and the rest of the Scholars made it clear that the alchemy in those books could easily be misused by anyone with the wrong sort of goals, to devastating effect I should add. Especially if they turn out to be a witch."
"Ultimately, that one hardback was directly in the path Miss Leite had taken, which led me to believe she may be related to its sudden appearance." Xavier waved one of his dainty paws in the air. "And as it turns out, she is indeed a librarian. Perhaps the goal was to store them in her own haven of knowledge, to share with the masses less fortunate to access the Great Tree of Tabira?"
Noir felt himself bristle. That sort of a conclusion was so flimsy; who would ever try to pass it off as a clue to the thief? Xavier was probably making up a story just to get out of community work as quickly as possible.
So then, why was he getting so upset? he wondered as Leite said something about Bianca and herself only allowing academics into their library. The guy was only doing the same thing he would've done in this sort of situation. With the guilds hounding him everywhere, he must be doing his best to meet their quota for good deeds as quickly as possible, so he could be on his way. ...It was probably the fact that he picked an old woman - one who, for the most part, seemed friendly and not the least bit suspicious - as the scapegoat. Yeah. He knew what it was like to be in Xavier's boots, but just as much how Leite was feeling.
"That is idle speculation at best," Jasmine announced firmly. "Now, about that book. Where exactly was it found, and what condition is it in? May we see it?"
The Machoke frowned. "Well, that one's being escorted back to Tabira already; we don't want it to stay where the thief can reclaim it. But we can show you where it was found."
"Let's go then." Noir shoved his chair back and stepped down to once again support his weight on his own two feet. "We're wasting too much time." The forceful nature of his words caught up to him quickly, and he backpedaled as best he could. The old lady could use some cheering up, at least.
"Not to worry, Miss Leite!" he purred. "This case is being handled by an expert, and the real thief will be found. I don't suppose as a reward for our efforts I could trouble a beautiful lady like yourself for a home-cooked meal~?"
Leite looked up at him with a gentle smile, and laughed. "Home-cooked? Might be hard to do that until I've made it back to Fableton. Besides which I don't fancy myself as talented a cook as I am a keeper of the written word, young man. But I suppose if all is said and done I can spare one more night here in Mosswood before I must return."
"Then our work will be done by tonight~" Noir gently took the significantly smaller woman's hand and kissed it.
"Right, too much of this sappy stuff for me." It was now the burly fighting Pokémon's turn to shove their chair back. "We're going, loverboy. You can go on your date later. Xavier, get up."
"My my, first I must sit down and now I must stand! Would it be rude of me to ask you to make up your mind, Miss Marble?"
-----
"This is the place," Marble announced, gesturing to the road at their feet. "It was raining when Leite got here, so the book wasn't doing too well when it was found. From the sound of it, a lot of water got into the pages. They'll be doing what they can to save the ink inside without damaging anything."
The road was as unassuming here as it was anywhere else. Not that Noir was surprised. Though, what did confuse him was that the volume of knowledge they found had been dropped right out in the rain. By his own experience, a move like that would only be done if the thief thought they would get caught. But then, why hold onto the other four?
"It can't have been intentional that they dropped it, then." Jasmine had folded one arm over her chest, using it to support the other as she rubbed at her chin with her knuckles. "If the knowledge kept in those books is so valuable, they would never have abandoned one intentionally."
"Fancy yourself a detective now, eh Princess?" Noir rubbed at her hair. She slapped his hand away with a grunt.
"The only reasons someone who went to the trouble of taking something like this would suddenly drop it," she pressed on, not willing to look him in the eye, "would be if they were worried about being caught, or decided that what they had with them was no longer useful. For the prior, it doesn't make sense that they would abandon only one book to avoid capture. For the latter, there are much better places to get rid of evidence than a public street."
"You're saying it was an accident?" the Trackers trainer prompted.
"Without a doubt. ...How active was the town when it was found? Was everyone alerted?"
The Braixen shrugged offhandedly. "I thought it best to be subtle about this. On the chance that the culprit tried to return to reclaim their lost prize, it wouldn't be very wise to run about town shouting that a criminal was on the loose, now would it?"
"Liar." Marble slapped him in the back of his head. "If I didn't catch you poking at it, you would've held onto it yourself and tried to sell it for ransom."
"There are better ways to make a living than by reselling something that wasn't rightfully earned, madam!"
"You do it all the time on the roads into Tabira."
"Those are my winnings from a fair wager to battle!"
Noir began to pan his eyes around the streets. Their only real hope to catch this guy was to hope that they would be retracing their steps. If they really didn't know they had dropped that book right in the road, then they would be searching from top to bottom in the exact route they took through Mosswood, and maybe even as far back as Tabira, if they were daring enough.
None of the locals pacing the streets seemed particularly suspicious, though some were giving him suspicious looks. Or was it Xavier? Maybe both. Xavier did seem to have a reputation, and he himself tended to attract negative attention. At least today, they would all be proven wrong when he served the needs of a guild member's family!
One form jumped out at him, more for the sense that something was out of place in that direction than anything. The space in a back alley was noticeably wavering, as though the heat coming off of a fire were distorting what could be seen beyond it. Or, more precisely, an illusion was breaking down as its creator got too far away or released their hold on it.
"I'll be right back," he told the others.
Satisfied that he had left them just too little enough information to keep guessing, he crouched and kicked off the ground, pushing his body forward into a sprint. Jasmine shouted his name after him, but he was too focused to be able to listen to her. He landed hands-down and pushed off once more, bounding off into the alleyway on all fours, as quickly as he could manage.
Around the bend, the light coming into the village immediately began to cut off. Not by a significant amount, but enough for someone to go unnoticed if they had dark enough fur or the right cloak. The space between the wall to his left and the building to his right was small, not even enough for an Emboar to make it through if he had to guess. Unfortunately the illusion-caster was nowhere to be seen. But there was only one path to follow; straight ahead some ways and then a right turn. He hopped up against the wall where the path made a sharp 90-degree turn and jumped off from there, saving himself the extra time to stop and turn.
"Noir, I will not have you running off like this, you lout!"
Jasmine's voice rang out crisp and clear from behind him. He growled, frustrated by the fact that she was coming after him. He couldn't risk stopping, or turn back to call out to her. "Wait with the others!" he called. "This is dangerous!"
"I don't give a damned Rattatta's hind if this is dangerous!" Swearing? From a little thing like her? That was surprising. "I will not be coddled and I will not be undervalued! We serve the guild together, not--"
Her voice cut off, switching to a shrill exclamation. "What in the name of--!?"
That was enough to convince him to turn his head back. There was another Zoroark in the alley - or was it? They seemed small, not much larger than Jasmine, from what he could tell of the comparison between the two as the latter had apparently been knocked off her feet, stricken by the other.
A snarl built in his throat - it was a common trick, hiding from the first person to go charging after you and then waiting to smack down the backup and run off in the opposite direction. This had to be the one; nobody would hide in a back alley and hit a guild member without knowing they were in trouble.
His body had just bounced into the air once again when he grasped hold of the image of Jasmine in his mind and focused that shape over his own body, casting the illusion to mirror her form. He had done this before, and during that particular fight he remembered he was impressed by how powerful the girl's legs were, the result of constant training no doubt. That strength was what he used now to double back and run down the enemy. He closed the distance as fast as his new body would allow him and leaped, dark energy erupting from his now much smaller claws as he lashed out with a Night Clash.
Without so much as turning their head to look at him, the Zoroark imitator ducked and scooted back underneath him with a speed he hadn't expected, leaving him exposed, with his momentum causing him to fall forward toward the ground. Having felt Jasmine's constant slaps all through the day, he knew he couldn't catch himself with this body, so he dropped the illusion and broke back into his true form, hitting the ground hard on all fours and skidding slightly, his claws scraping along the rocks.
He came to a halt over the fallen Jasmine crouched like a wild dog, immediately snapping his head to seek out their attacker while the growl echoed in his throat.
There was no one there.
The Mienfoo groaned and pushed herself up. "Uncouth filly," she grumbled. The reverberating in his chest paused for a moment.
"What?"
"That Banette. She popped out of the ground and attacked me. Likely she wouldn't have had the chance if we were together...?" He felt her paw on his ribcage, and her head brushed the tufted fur along his upper body as she stepped out from under him and brushed at her arms.
For the first time since meeting her, Noir actually felt... bad. Really, he had only left Jasmine behind because he thought he could handle this better on her own. She probably would have been better staying with Marble. Thinking back, though... Jasmine was a lot more free-spirited than any of the other wealthy types he'd come across. Not the kind to sit back and let others handle work for her. Ultimately, even though Jazz had come after him on her own free will, it was his fault she got hurt.
"Uh... so she's a ghost, then?" It would explain how she had just popped in out of nowhere while he was chasing after them.
"Yes." Jasmine pointed along the path. "Now start running, before she gets away! Just don't get too far ahead."
"Better idea." Noir scooted aside enough to get a clear view of Jasmine and scooped her up in his claws, depositing her in his thick mane. The girl uttered a shout which quickly became muffled in his hair, and she beat at his skull with all the fervor of a pair of Cottonee while he broke back into a sprint.
"Will you, for once, tell me what you're planning before you go and do it!?" she shrieked.
"You told me to run, didn't you? This way you won't get in the way."
His offhanded rebuttal made her growl. "We are going to have a talk about your- there!"
Noir had already picked out their target before Jasmine announced her, the same long braid he spotted before dancing in midair behind a floating grey body of cloth and stitches that was poking around what looked like a parking space for several carts, probably meant to be used as Ponyta-drawn buggies or rickshaws of some kind.
Jasmine reached out a paw and a light erupted from her palm, sending forth a barrage of glistening pastel stars. "No, don't--!"
The warning came too late; Jasmine had already made her move. Her Swift attack did not have its intended effect, however, phasing right through the apparition's body and instead slamming into the open-faced wooden cart she had been poking around in, smashing it to splinters. The specter reacted as well, ducking into a different cart and disappearing. The compact world of the parking lot vibrated with another illusion, punctuated by the sound of flapping wings, and then once more rippled with an illusion that waned and then shattered.
"Jazz, why'd you do that?" Noir slapped a palm into his face, wincing. "She's a ghost; that was a normal move. Wouldn't have done anything to stop her! All you did was cause a scene. And I bet the guy who this thing belongs to isn't gonna be happy!"
"Ah..." Jasmine shuffled around for a bit, worming her way out from under his fur, and dropped to the ground and a nimble landing on both feet. "But my claws cut her cloth," she offered meekly.
"I'm not paying for this," Noir groaned.
"It can be fixed!" Jasmine said it as though she was pleading, like reality itself might be willing to reason with her and undo the damage she had caused. "Just... help me lift up that other half and reattach it."
The cart having been split right down the middle, Noir could tell that would never work. Even if they did manage to get the two pieces back together, they would never hold against the force of gravity. Jasmine didn't seem to realize this as she crouched underneath the half of the cart over which a single length of cloth was hung, probably to keep it safe in the rain, and pushed from below. Her posture was all wrong, trying to lift it with her back when really she should be using her shoulders and paws. And the extra effort showed, too; she barely managed to lift the broken end a few inches from the ground before the wheels were jarred loose and scooted away behind her, bumping into the next cart in the space. Jasmine lost her balance, slipped and fell. With another crash, the cart jolted into the ground, shaking its contents around.
"Give it up, Princess, the only way you'll get this fixed is to buy a replacement." Now that the momentary excitement had passed, he had broken into a grin. Seeing the young girl trying to cover up her mistake was amusing, like a child who didn't want their parents to see what they'd done and punish them for it.
"Why?" Jasmine crawled out from under the cart and brushed at her fur, now slightly caked with water and mud. "I thought the idea of being in a guild was to be prepared to get your paws dirty. Just 'buying a new one' is the sort of thing I'd be expected to do at home!"
Hmm, maybe not quite the same sort of motivation.
"I get your point, but there's nothing that can be done except replacing that whole plank of wood. And neither of us are carpenters, Jazz."
"Ugh!" Jasmine kicked at the wheel beside her. "What on earth would she be doing over here, anyway? Poking about in a stranger's cart in the middle of a battle."
That sparked a thought in him. "Maybe because there was something important over here waiting for her?" he suggested. The raincloth had slipped forward over more of the broken wood, but stayed firmly in place, tied down by rope that was fed through holed punched in its edge and wrapped around a pole on the end of the wood. It was a way to make sure the cover wouldn't be blown away in the wind, but the way it had been rolled up earlier also ensured that about a foot's worth of the inside of the cart would never get wet...
He tossed the fabric aside, unveiling the space underneath. A set of four books, each with different shades of yellowed covers rested there, jolted out of a neat stack but looking none the worse for wear. "Heh, I think we've just found her hiding spot."
Jasmine peered up at him, too short herself to see into the space. "The books are there?" she asked hopefully.
"Yup, and they're not roughed up. Lucky us, the books only got bounced a little bit, and you're not hurt either."
"Not badly hurt," the girl corrected with a huff. "I suspect you'll be making up for that later?"
Noir chuckled and gestured to the smashed cart. "You mean the same way you'll help fix up this pile of scraps?"
"I certainly will be!" Jasmine exclaimed indignantly. "All that needs to be done is finding the owner."
"First things first." Noir reached into the carriage and stuffed the books one by one into his fur. "Let's get these to Marble or whoever wants to be responsible for them. I think I've earned myself a meal~"
The road was as unassuming here as it was anywhere else. Not that Noir was surprised. Though, what did confuse him was that the volume of knowledge they found had been dropped right out in the rain. By his own experience, a move like that would only be done if the thief thought they would get caught. But then, why hold onto the other four?
"It can't have been intentional that they dropped it, then." Jasmine had folded one arm over her chest, using it to support the other as she rubbed at her chin with her knuckles. "If the knowledge kept in those books is so valuable, they would never have abandoned one intentionally."
"Fancy yourself a detective now, eh Princess?" Noir rubbed at her hair. She slapped his hand away with a grunt.
"The only reasons someone who went to the trouble of taking something like this would suddenly drop it," she pressed on, not willing to look him in the eye, "would be if they were worried about being caught, or decided that what they had with them was no longer useful. For the prior, it doesn't make sense that they would abandon only one book to avoid capture. For the latter, there are much better places to get rid of evidence than a public street."
"You're saying it was an accident?" the Trackers trainer prompted.
"Without a doubt. ...How active was the town when it was found? Was everyone alerted?"
The Braixen shrugged offhandedly. "I thought it best to be subtle about this. On the chance that the culprit tried to return to reclaim their lost prize, it wouldn't be very wise to run about town shouting that a criminal was on the loose, now would it?"
"Liar." Marble slapped him in the back of his head. "If I didn't catch you poking at it, you would've held onto it yourself and tried to sell it for ransom."
"There are better ways to make a living than by reselling something that wasn't rightfully earned, madam!"
"You do it all the time on the roads into Tabira."
"Those are my winnings from a fair wager to battle!"
Noir began to pan his eyes around the streets. Their only real hope to catch this guy was to hope that they would be retracing their steps. If they really didn't know they had dropped that book right in the road, then they would be searching from top to bottom in the exact route they took through Mosswood, and maybe even as far back as Tabira, if they were daring enough.
None of the locals pacing the streets seemed particularly suspicious, though some were giving him suspicious looks. Or was it Xavier? Maybe both. Xavier did seem to have a reputation, and he himself tended to attract negative attention. At least today, they would all be proven wrong when he served the needs of a guild member's family!
One form jumped out at him, more for the sense that something was out of place in that direction than anything. The space in a back alley was noticeably wavering, as though the heat coming off of a fire were distorting what could be seen beyond it. Or, more precisely, an illusion was breaking down as its creator got too far away or released their hold on it.
"I'll be right back," he told the others.
Satisfied that he had left them just too little enough information to keep guessing, he crouched and kicked off the ground, pushing his body forward into a sprint. Jasmine shouted his name after him, but he was too focused to be able to listen to her. He landed hands-down and pushed off once more, bounding off into the alleyway on all fours, as quickly as he could manage.
Around the bend, the light coming into the village immediately began to cut off. Not by a significant amount, but enough for someone to go unnoticed if they had dark enough fur or the right cloak. The space between the wall to his left and the building to his right was small, not even enough for an Emboar to make it through if he had to guess. Unfortunately the illusion-caster was nowhere to be seen. But there was only one path to follow; straight ahead some ways and then a right turn. He hopped up against the wall where the path made a sharp 90-degree turn and jumped off from there, saving himself the extra time to stop and turn.
"Noir, I will not have you running off like this, you lout!"
Jasmine's voice rang out crisp and clear from behind him. He growled, frustrated by the fact that she was coming after him. He couldn't risk stopping, or turn back to call out to her. "Wait with the others!" he called. "This is dangerous!"
"I don't give a damned Rattatta's hind if this is dangerous!" Swearing? From a little thing like her? That was surprising. "I will not be coddled and I will not be undervalued! We serve the guild together, not--"
Her voice cut off, switching to a shrill exclamation. "What in the name of--!?"
That was enough to convince him to turn his head back. There was another Zoroark in the alley - or was it? They seemed small, not much larger than Jasmine, from what he could tell of the comparison between the two as the latter had apparently been knocked off her feet, stricken by the other.
A snarl built in his throat - it was a common trick, hiding from the first person to go charging after you and then waiting to smack down the backup and run off in the opposite direction. This had to be the one; nobody would hide in a back alley and hit a guild member without knowing they were in trouble.
His body had just bounced into the air once again when he grasped hold of the image of Jasmine in his mind and focused that shape over his own body, casting the illusion to mirror her form. He had done this before, and during that particular fight he remembered he was impressed by how powerful the girl's legs were, the result of constant training no doubt. That strength was what he used now to double back and run down the enemy. He closed the distance as fast as his new body would allow him and leaped, dark energy erupting from his now much smaller claws as he lashed out with a Night Clash.
Without so much as turning their head to look at him, the Zoroark imitator ducked and scooted back underneath him with a speed he hadn't expected, leaving him exposed, with his momentum causing him to fall forward toward the ground. Having felt Jasmine's constant slaps all through the day, he knew he couldn't catch himself with this body, so he dropped the illusion and broke back into his true form, hitting the ground hard on all fours and skidding slightly, his claws scraping along the rocks.
He came to a halt over the fallen Jasmine crouched like a wild dog, immediately snapping his head to seek out their attacker while the growl echoed in his throat.
There was no one there.
The Mienfoo groaned and pushed herself up. "Uncouth filly," she grumbled. The reverberating in his chest paused for a moment.
"What?"
"That Banette. She popped out of the ground and attacked me. Likely she wouldn't have had the chance if we were together...?" He felt her paw on his ribcage, and her head brushed the tufted fur along his upper body as she stepped out from under him and brushed at her arms.
For the first time since meeting her, Noir actually felt... bad. Really, he had only left Jasmine behind because he thought he could handle this better on her own. She probably would have been better staying with Marble. Thinking back, though... Jasmine was a lot more free-spirited than any of the other wealthy types he'd come across. Not the kind to sit back and let others handle work for her. Ultimately, even though Jazz had come after him on her own free will, it was his fault she got hurt.
"Uh... so she's a ghost, then?" It would explain how she had just popped in out of nowhere while he was chasing after them.
"Yes." Jasmine pointed along the path. "Now start running, before she gets away! Just don't get too far ahead."
"Better idea." Noir scooted aside enough to get a clear view of Jasmine and scooped her up in his claws, depositing her in his thick mane. The girl uttered a shout which quickly became muffled in his hair, and she beat at his skull with all the fervor of a pair of Cottonee while he broke back into a sprint.
"Will you, for once, tell me what you're planning before you go and do it!?" she shrieked.
"You told me to run, didn't you? This way you won't get in the way."
His offhanded rebuttal made her growl. "We are going to have a talk about your- there!"
Noir had already picked out their target before Jasmine announced her, the same long braid he spotted before dancing in midair behind a floating grey body of cloth and stitches that was poking around what looked like a parking space for several carts, probably meant to be used as Ponyta-drawn buggies or rickshaws of some kind.
Jasmine reached out a paw and a light erupted from her palm, sending forth a barrage of glistening pastel stars. "No, don't--!"
The warning came too late; Jasmine had already made her move. Her Swift attack did not have its intended effect, however, phasing right through the apparition's body and instead slamming into the open-faced wooden cart she had been poking around in, smashing it to splinters. The specter reacted as well, ducking into a different cart and disappearing. The compact world of the parking lot vibrated with another illusion, punctuated by the sound of flapping wings, and then once more rippled with an illusion that waned and then shattered.
"Jazz, why'd you do that?" Noir slapped a palm into his face, wincing. "She's a ghost; that was a normal move. Wouldn't have done anything to stop her! All you did was cause a scene. And I bet the guy who this thing belongs to isn't gonna be happy!"
"Ah..." Jasmine shuffled around for a bit, worming her way out from under his fur, and dropped to the ground and a nimble landing on both feet. "But my claws cut her cloth," she offered meekly.
"I'm not paying for this," Noir groaned.
"It can be fixed!" Jasmine said it as though she was pleading, like reality itself might be willing to reason with her and undo the damage she had caused. "Just... help me lift up that other half and reattach it."
The cart having been split right down the middle, Noir could tell that would never work. Even if they did manage to get the two pieces back together, they would never hold against the force of gravity. Jasmine didn't seem to realize this as she crouched underneath the half of the cart over which a single length of cloth was hung, probably to keep it safe in the rain, and pushed from below. Her posture was all wrong, trying to lift it with her back when really she should be using her shoulders and paws. And the extra effort showed, too; she barely managed to lift the broken end a few inches from the ground before the wheels were jarred loose and scooted away behind her, bumping into the next cart in the space. Jasmine lost her balance, slipped and fell. With another crash, the cart jolted into the ground, shaking its contents around.
"Give it up, Princess, the only way you'll get this fixed is to buy a replacement." Now that the momentary excitement had passed, he had broken into a grin. Seeing the young girl trying to cover up her mistake was amusing, like a child who didn't want their parents to see what they'd done and punish them for it.
"Why?" Jasmine crawled out from under the cart and brushed at her fur, now slightly caked with water and mud. "I thought the idea of being in a guild was to be prepared to get your paws dirty. Just 'buying a new one' is the sort of thing I'd be expected to do at home!"
Hmm, maybe not quite the same sort of motivation.
"I get your point, but there's nothing that can be done except replacing that whole plank of wood. And neither of us are carpenters, Jazz."
"Ugh!" Jasmine kicked at the wheel beside her. "What on earth would she be doing over here, anyway? Poking about in a stranger's cart in the middle of a battle."
That sparked a thought in him. "Maybe because there was something important over here waiting for her?" he suggested. The raincloth had slipped forward over more of the broken wood, but stayed firmly in place, tied down by rope that was fed through holed punched in its edge and wrapped around a pole on the end of the wood. It was a way to make sure the cover wouldn't be blown away in the wind, but the way it had been rolled up earlier also ensured that about a foot's worth of the inside of the cart would never get wet...
He tossed the fabric aside, unveiling the space underneath. A set of four books, each with different shades of yellowed covers rested there, jolted out of a neat stack but looking none the worse for wear. "Heh, I think we've just found her hiding spot."
Jasmine peered up at him, too short herself to see into the space. "The books are there?" she asked hopefully.
"Yup, and they're not roughed up. Lucky us, the books only got bounced a little bit, and you're not hurt either."
"Not badly hurt," the girl corrected with a huff. "I suspect you'll be making up for that later?"
Noir chuckled and gestured to the smashed cart. "You mean the same way you'll help fix up this pile of scraps?"
"I certainly will be!" Jasmine exclaimed indignantly. "All that needs to be done is finding the owner."
"First things first." Noir reached into the carriage and stuffed the books one by one into his fur. "Let's get these to Marble or whoever wants to be responsible for them. I think I've earned myself a meal~"
-----
~~~
A grand return of the five research books stolen from the grand library within the Great Tree of Tabira was made possible today thanks to the valiant efforts of one Jasminami Cenoreilles, the poster child of one Theatre Vagary in the same city.
After a cursory investigation it was discovered that the culprit left their most incriminating clue in plain sight, and then was caught trying to return to the scene of the crime to reclaim it. A daring pursuit led the young heroine to a parking lot, followed by a battle by which one of the delivery carts in the area suffered a loose blow and was destroyed. As luck would have it, the remaining four Scholars research books were revealed cleverly hidden inside the wreckage.
When asked for an interview, Jasminami had this to say. "I'm proud to have had the opportunity to help recover what was wrongfully taken, and demonstrate what can be done even by those of us who are not necessarily fighters."
Further investigation has revealed that the culprit, a Banette, appears to have a knack for casting illusions to disappear at will. The owner of the destroyed cart was found to have been away on a trip, and is innocent of any involvement in the affairs of the thief or guild members.
Hopefully the owner of that particular carriage will be reimbursed for his sacrifice, and then it will truly be a happy ending for all!
~~~
Publication Pilferer Unveiled!
Wealthy Weasel Reveals Hiding Place of Stolen Scholar Scriptures
A grand return of the five research books stolen from the grand library within the Great Tree of Tabira was made possible today thanks to the valiant efforts of one Jasminami Cenoreilles, the poster child of one Theatre Vagary in the same city.
After a cursory investigation it was discovered that the culprit left their most incriminating clue in plain sight, and then was caught trying to return to the scene of the crime to reclaim it. A daring pursuit led the young heroine to a parking lot, followed by a battle by which one of the delivery carts in the area suffered a loose blow and was destroyed. As luck would have it, the remaining four Scholars research books were revealed cleverly hidden inside the wreckage.
When asked for an interview, Jasminami had this to say. "I'm proud to have had the opportunity to help recover what was wrongfully taken, and demonstrate what can be done even by those of us who are not necessarily fighters."
Further investigation has revealed that the culprit, a Banette, appears to have a knack for casting illusions to disappear at will. The owner of the destroyed cart was found to have been away on a trip, and is innocent of any involvement in the affairs of the thief or guild members.
Hopefully the owner of that particular carriage will be reimbursed for his sacrifice, and then it will truly be a happy ending for all!
~~~
"He twisted my words!" Jasmine exclaimed, incredulously slapping the article down on the dining room table at which she sat. Until now, she'd had no idea that Addy intended to take her post-mission interview so far out of context. "I was talking about finding the clues that led to the culprit when I said that, and I specifically searched for the owner afterwards! His family was given the money to replace it."
"This is why I prefer to avoid encounters with news outlets, Jasminami." Pietre pinched the bridge of his nose; having already seen the article himself after some uproar about the carelessness of his family, he was distraught enough without her reaction. "Especially ones quite so troublesome as Addy. Whether boy or girl, that flying rodent will continue to needle at whatever weakness they can find in anyone that does not happen to ally with their own guild."
It was suppertime at the Cenoreilles family home. As per usual, Pietre was none too happy to be sharing company with Noir, but he was more distraught over the matter of the Tabiran Informer article at the moment, and thus seemed to be willing to leave the great obsidian fox to uncomfortably poke at the artistically-prepared food on his plate as he sat next to his consort.
"What is there that can be done to fix this?" Jasmine rubbed at her cheeks, eyes wide and panicked.
"This is why I prefer to avoid encounters with news outlets, Jasminami." Pietre pinched the bridge of his nose; having already seen the article himself after some uproar about the carelessness of his family, he was distraught enough without her reaction. "Especially ones quite so troublesome as Addy. Whether boy or girl, that flying rodent will continue to needle at whatever weakness they can find in anyone that does not happen to ally with their own guild."
It was suppertime at the Cenoreilles family home. As per usual, Pietre was none too happy to be sharing company with Noir, but he was more distraught over the matter of the Tabiran Informer article at the moment, and thus seemed to be willing to leave the great obsidian fox to uncomfortably poke at the artistically-prepared food on his plate as he sat next to his consort.
"What is there that can be done to fix this?" Jasmine rubbed at her cheeks, eyes wide and panicked.
"What's done is done, Jasminami." Pietre leaned his elbows into the table and pressed his paws together. "If you choose to continue this guild work, then the best way to avoid further punishment from the Informer journalist will be to avoid the penman himself. Should that be too difficult, then you will need to cement your place with the Artisans - I've noticed he tends not to heckle those within his own branch of the guild. Or perhaps, at least become close to that Mawile Madras. The friend of a friend, as the saying goes.
"Of course, there is also the option to abandon the guilds. None would fault you, after receiving such criticism as this on your first field mission. I will personally see to it that our concerns with the subject matter in this article are addressed. I will not stand to have the Cenoreilles name so tarnished, especially not when the supposed blame is to fall on my dearest daughter."
Jasmine slammed her paws down. "No! I will not surrender just because of this!"
Her father was silent. Noir was silent. She was frustrated beyond measure, and had to find some way to release this tension before she broke completely.
"I've had my fill of dinner," she announced, pushing the ornate wooden seat back and stepping down from the cushion. "Noir, come with me to my room please. I need a massage to get rid of some of this stress." She patted his thigh and moved out of the dining room, following the lavish red rug on the floor out into the marble staircase that led to the second floor along each side of a perfectly round landing.
"Me?" Noir sounded genuinely surprised, but slipped into his usual smug tone quickly. "You sure you don't want one of your little servants to do it? I'm no massu...massa... I'm not trained to do that, Princess."
"Perhaps not, but I'd like to find out how you take to it. I can call Lucinda instead, but I prefer having you present first. Call it an exchange of favor."
The favor, of course, was her choosing not to reveal to her father that Noir had abandoned her in the street. Likely as not, doing so would cause Pietre to dismiss him from service, whether or not Jasmine accepted the decision - after all, he was not one to keep servants who broke their contract. And she certainly didn't want to see him go.
"Oh, don't look at me like that, daddy~! I promise I won't be doing anything... lewd."
Doubtless, Pietre had fixed him with a harsh look after she asked him to join her in the bedroom. Ugh... men. But she could easily dismiss both his joking and her father's concern with one promise. She laughed, a single forced sound. "Ha! The day I bed with you, Noir, I will be as loud and risqué as possible, that way no one can doubt my feelings. As funny as you are, I'm sure your size will be the grandest of jokes."
She could hear the sound of the table being slammed hard enough to rattle the silverware, and strangled laughter. There was only one of the two men at the table who could have done that... he certainly was a good sport, at risk of his pride. She strode with purpose toward the stairs that started the path to her bedroom. Perhaps she could vent some of her frustrations into the bed while Noir helped ease her back.
"Of course, there is also the option to abandon the guilds. None would fault you, after receiving such criticism as this on your first field mission. I will personally see to it that our concerns with the subject matter in this article are addressed. I will not stand to have the Cenoreilles name so tarnished, especially not when the supposed blame is to fall on my dearest daughter."
Jasmine slammed her paws down. "No! I will not surrender just because of this!"
Her father was silent. Noir was silent. She was frustrated beyond measure, and had to find some way to release this tension before she broke completely.
"I've had my fill of dinner," she announced, pushing the ornate wooden seat back and stepping down from the cushion. "Noir, come with me to my room please. I need a massage to get rid of some of this stress." She patted his thigh and moved out of the dining room, following the lavish red rug on the floor out into the marble staircase that led to the second floor along each side of a perfectly round landing.
"Me?" Noir sounded genuinely surprised, but slipped into his usual smug tone quickly. "You sure you don't want one of your little servants to do it? I'm no massu...massa... I'm not trained to do that, Princess."
"Perhaps not, but I'd like to find out how you take to it. I can call Lucinda instead, but I prefer having you present first. Call it an exchange of favor."
The favor, of course, was her choosing not to reveal to her father that Noir had abandoned her in the street. Likely as not, doing so would cause Pietre to dismiss him from service, whether or not Jasmine accepted the decision - after all, he was not one to keep servants who broke their contract. And she certainly didn't want to see him go.
"Oh, don't look at me like that, daddy~! I promise I won't be doing anything... lewd."
Doubtless, Pietre had fixed him with a harsh look after she asked him to join her in the bedroom. Ugh... men. But she could easily dismiss both his joking and her father's concern with one promise. She laughed, a single forced sound. "Ha! The day I bed with you, Noir, I will be as loud and risqué as possible, that way no one can doubt my feelings. As funny as you are, I'm sure your size will be the grandest of jokes."
She could hear the sound of the table being slammed hard enough to rattle the silverware, and strangled laughter. There was only one of the two men at the table who could have done that... he certainly was a good sport, at risk of his pride. She strode with purpose toward the stairs that started the path to her bedroom. Perhaps she could vent some of her frustrations into the bed while Noir helped ease her back.
![[COLLAB] - Halcyon](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/eb344d07-a7c6-4b16-8bc5-4e5fdf15dfde/dclgugl-5da3657b-e9fa-4971-9561-9dd2dbd79a65.png/v1/crop/w_184,h_184,x_0,y_1,scl_0.25555555555556/_collab____halcyon_by_zero_zivan_dclgugl-92s-2x.png?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9NzQwIiwicGF0aCI6IlwvZlwvZWIzNDRkMDctYTdjNi00YjE2LThiYzUtNGU1ZmRmMTVkZmRlXC9kY2xndWdsLTVkYTM2NTdiLWU5ZmEtNDk3MS05NTYxLTlkZDJkYmQ3OWE2NS5wbmciLCJ3aWR0aCI6Ijw9NzIwIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmltYWdlLm9wZXJhdGlvbnMiXX0.Z14U2Aj6h1S1JwZPsUPyxpdG9tgKgbtgRS8Qp0jb8VU)
![[COLLAB] - Halcyon](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/eb344d07-a7c6-4b16-8bc5-4e5fdf15dfde/dclgugl-5da3657b-e9fa-4971-9561-9dd2dbd79a65.png/v1/crop/w_92,h_92,x_0,y_1,scl_0.12777777777778/_collab____halcyon_by_zero_zivan_dclgugl-92s.png?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9NzQwIiwicGF0aCI6IlwvZlwvZWIzNDRkMDctYTdjNi00YjE2LThiYzUtNGU1ZmRmMTVkZmRlXC9kY2xndWdsLTVkYTM2NTdiLWU5ZmEtNDk3MS05NTYxLTlkZDJkYmQ3OWE2NS5wbmciLCJ3aWR0aCI6Ijw9NzIwIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmltYWdlLm9wZXJhdGlvbnMiXX0.Z14U2Aj6h1S1JwZPsUPyxpdG9tgKgbtgRS8Qp0jb8VU)
