A New World, Detective Style!!!

by Doctor D

Chapter 6: Flickering flame, a dangerous friend

There were a large assortment of eyes looking at a certain Anteater Pokemon. This list included, but was not limited to:

An angry looking griffon whose glare could melt a steel door.

An utterly horrified and frantic looking earth pony mare who was still clinging to said griffons head like a frightened cat.

A unicorn who looked at Heatmor with a mix of contempt and scientific curiosity.

Gizmo the Shopkeeper, whose headpiece gizmo was zooming in on Heatmor’s interesting and cool physiology, accompanied by Klinky the Klink

A tiny gleefully grinning Ditto who sat on top of Goomey’s head, trying to look intimidating and failing spectacularly.

And a glaring Goodra who was currently holding the Heatmor in the air by his chest. The Heatmor in question was wildly flailing his limbs about in the slime dragon’s very strong grasp.

“AAAAH! Not the face! I need it to look pretty!” Heatmor screamed in panic as he continued his fruitless attempts to escape Goomey’s hands.

“Be silent, fiend! Thou has a lot of sins to pay for!” Edgar bellowed, pointing his accusatory nub at the Heatmor.

“Yes. I hope you are prepared for punishment.” Acacia added, voice cold and chilling as ice.

Heatmor was basically sweating bullets and flailed his arms about. “Wait, wait! I can explain! Don’t hurt me!”

“That better be a darn good explanation.” Acacia said with a glare.

“I wasn’t me! Okay?” Heatmor said hurriedly “I-I must’ve hit my head ‘cause I remember standing on a cliff. Yeah, that’s it! I fell and hit my head!”

“That sounds dumb.” Goomey said, tightening her grip just a tad.

“Gaah! I’m not lying! Just hear me out, okay?” Heatmor stuttered, fearing for it’s life.

Edgar looked at Acacia and spoke to her. “Miss, I leave this charlatan in your capable hands! Now if you’ll excuse me.” He then hopped off Goomey’s head and bounced his way to the crowds.

Speaking of the crowd, many ponies were not conversing with Pokèmon. Just a few moments ago Acacia had gathered all the unicorns in town to set up a Translation Field, a sort of invisible magic bubble over the entire town that allowed anything within the area of Sunset Hills to communicate despite the language barrier.

Apparently this was some very complicated magic as six out of the twelve unicorns had fainted immediately after it was finished. Apparently it was due to magic fatigue. But that is beside the point.

“I’unno, gal.” Gizmo the Shopkeeper said, eyeing the Heatmor through her headpiece. “I don’t see no lies, bu’ Gizmo is real suspicious. Something up with this bruv here.”

“Thanks for the opinion, miss Lie Detector.” Acacia replied dryly, focusing her deadpan looks at the Fire-type with all the intensity of a very upset mother, something that seemed super effective. “Alright, spill the beans, mister. And be quick about it!”

Heatmor whined quietly, the most pathetic sound ever heard. “I-I got a condition, okay?”

“Extrapolate.” Acacia ordered, causing Heatmor to gulp nervously.

“Ah, it’s kindasorta, like, a kind of...” Heatmor rambled a bit before trying to get a hold of whatever loose nerves he had. “Look, anytime I hit my head I just sort of black out, you know?”

“And what happens then?” Acacia pressed on, much to Heatmor’s growing displeasure.

“L-look, I told you I black out! I don’t know specifics, it’s a medical condition.” Heatmor defended his point, trying to shield his face as if expecting a hit any second.

Heatmor looked kinda pathetic to say the least, and everypony and mon watching more or less silently agreed on that.

Acacia remained doubtful, however. “And what sort of medical condition is this? More over, how can we tell if you’re lying?” Her glare intensified to frightening levels, causing a series of shivers run across Heatmor’s body.

“I-I wouldn’t lie! Honest! I would never- HURGH!” Heatmor made a weird noise as a frying pan smacked him on the head, knocking him out instantly. What was holding said pan dropped back onto the ground with many sets of eyes on him.

“Edgar, what the hay!?” Acacia roared so angrily that a good amount of ponies, and a gryphon as well as some Pokèmon stepped at least a step away from her.

Edgar looked as nonchalant as one could. “Oh, I was just putting a theory I made into action. A test, if you will.” He explained while twirling his mustache.

Acacia’s eye twitched. “And what sort of test involves knocking a creature out with a frying pan?! That makes no sen-”

“Hush.”

“Don’t you hush me, mister!”

Edgar hushed the furious mare again and pointed at Heatmor’s body. It twitched as his eyes shot wide open in a familiarly manic glare. “Unhand me, you filth! How dare you touch me, The Goddess of Flame and Embers? I will BURRRN YOUR SOUL-HUGRH”

Again Heatmor was silenced and knocked out with a good hit on the skull by Edgar and his Frying Pan of Knock Outs +2TM!

“Stop doing that! And what did you just do?” Acacia yelled at the pink blob again.

“Elementary,” Edgar said as if everything were obvious. “I’ve heard of this a few times on my many travels. A Forced Delusional Personality Shift caused or catalysed by head trauma. Though I wouldn’t personally call it a medical condition it is a real thing. A very rare thing, but that’s beside the point.”

“You see, when our acquaintance here bumps his head on something their mind goes through a shift from the normal personality to a delusional one. In this case a lunatic pyromaniac and a bit of a wimp, if I dare say my opinion. Unfortunately, I can’t say which one of the personalities is the delusional one.”

“... I don’t follow.” Acacia said plainly.

Edgar cleared his throat and hummed thoughtfully. “Well, this is something I can’t say with certainty. Unless I knew this poor sod before this shift first occured it is virtually impossible for me to tell which is the real personality and which is the delusion.”

“So what you are saying is that this guy-” Acacia pointed at Heatmor, who was beginning to come to again “-is crazy but we have no way of knowing if it’s the bad kind of crazy or the benign kind of crazy?”

“In it’s primary essence, yes-siree!” The ditto proclaimed with an attempted fist pump that looked a lot more comical than it was supposed to.

Goomey was in awe. “Wow, you are so smart, Uncle!”

Acacia groaned and facehoofed. “This day just keeps getting better.” The sarcasm in her tone was thick as chocolate fudge.

“... I think don’t like rock concerts any more...” Heatmor whined, rubbing his poor head.

Edgar gestured to his Goodra friend. “I think it’s alright, Goomey, my dear. You can let the boy down now.”

“Okey-dokey!” Goomey said and gently set Heatmor back onto the ground. The Anteater Pokèmon seemed more than happy with this and practically snuggled with the ground.

“Oh, sweet earthen crust, my friend.” He cooed, actually cooed to the dirt.

Ignoring that scene, Acacia calmly walked over to the pink blop and yanked the Frying Pan of Knock Outs +2TM! out of Edgar’s nubby grip. “Give me that before you go insane with power.”

“Why, I have simply no awareness of what thou me-” He got flattened under the pan and now was pooled flat at the bottom of a small crater “-an… I take it you are a tiny bit frustrated-” He got smacked with the pan again for good measure, thrice, though he didn’t seem to mind too much, apparently. “... I assume this is the point where I am to get the hint.”

“Much obliged.” Acacia said with an eerily cheery smile, handing the Frying Pan of Knock Outs +2TM! to Gizmo the Shopkeeper, who immediately hid the wonder pan into her magical invisible pocket. Because that is a thing.

Edgar remained surprisingly quiet in his crater while a horrified Goomey watched Acacia go, locking her previous assessment into stone. “Moms are scary...” She whimpered like a wounded puppy.

“That they are...” Edgar said, for once in his life too scared stiff for melodrama.

“... This place is so loco, man.” Heatmor said, sounding just a bit like a dirty hippie, hugging his dirt..

---

After peeling Edgar out of the crater and Bronze leaving to get Scaredy Cat and her Chimecho home, the group sort of disbanded.

Acacia took Heatmor to the crowd so he could publicly apologize for the minor damages he had caused, partly due to Acacia’s glare scaring the Fire-type stiff. The townsfolk of Sunset Hills were pretty good sports about all of it, once they heard of Heatmor’s condition(now shortened to FDPS).

Gizmo The Shopkeeper and Klinky the Klink went back to Everypony’s Everything. Apparently, since Gizmo the Shopkeeper had nearly anything in stock, the townsfolk went to her for things and due to this fire incident business was booming. OPPORTUNISM!

The Chansey had been looking after a few Pokémon that Heatmor had managed to injure during his maybe delusional rampage. After apologizing to the ponies, Heatmor had more than sincerely asked her if he could make up for what he had done as his alter-ego. Now he was making up by helping the Pokèmon he had hurt.

Edgar and Goomey for their part broke off to interrogate… ahem, question any Pokèmon and ponies they came across, Edgar doing most of the talking while Goomey just looked cute. Most of it involved asking details of the event, you know, detective stuff.

However, Edgar did ask a few Poèmon about a certain thing.

“... Hmm...” A Surskit said in thought. “... Sorry. Haven’t seen anyone with that description.”

“Blast!” Edgar ‘cursed’. “Oh well, thank you anyway, ma’am.”

“Sure!” Surskit chimed and walked off towards the river.

The Ditto Detective sighed in defeat. Sixth one and still nothing on him. Goomey gazed up at Edgar sitting atop her head.

“Hey, Uncle. Who’s this Watson guy? Is he a friend?” She asked innocently.

“Watson… hoo boy, my good Watson.” Edgar said with a nostalgic chuckle. “I can’t even remember how much I’ve experienced with that son of a gun. He has been my loyal assistant and partner for so long.”

“What’s he like?” Goomey asked, growing interested.

“Well, Watson was… has always been a rather unique specimen. Very unique indeed.” Edgar said vaguely. “I met him, I think, a few years after I first encountered you. After a bit of a bumpy start we became partners, him and I. A perfect duo, I might say. With my brilliant mind and his wit and abilities we were unstoppable.”

“Now, to give credit where credit is due, Watson has saved my hide a lot more than my pride cares to admit. Sure, I am a little accident prone, but Watson has always been there to pick up the pieces and drag me out of whatever well of despair I’d fall into.”

“He sounds nice.” Goomey said, trying to imagine in her head what Watson was like.

“Oh hohoho!” Edgar laughed merrily. “Well, he might not show it too outwardly, but he is a good man, as far as I am asked. A little bit snappy, but don’t let it fool you. He cares.”

There was a silent moment between the two. Then Edgar sighed.

“To be perfectly honest, even to this day I am yet to fully figure Watson out. The boy is so groundbreaking in so many ways and breaks his own mold so severely I cannot help but wonder how he does it.”

“What do you mean?” Goomey asked.

“Well… that is a hard thing to answer without meeting him. Let’s just say that Watson is unlike anything you have ever seen before. Once I witnessed him knock out a Tyranitar with a clean uppercut.”

Goomey’s eyes basically light up in sparkles at that. “Wow, he sounds awesome!”

Edgar let out a bellowing laugh in his squeaky voice. ‘Note to magnificent self: Find a way to restore these bellowing lungs to their original capacity!’

“That he is, my good dear.” Edgar said, looking at the horizon, wondering how his partner was doing. For he was sure that Watson was out there. “That he is.”

---

Watson’s Journal

Entry 6

Dear journal

I hate my life.

Good news out of the way first(because heavens know I don’t want to sound depressed right off the bat). I don’t think I need to coach Professor Rowan anymore. I don’t know how, but that Ice Punch he mastered is monster. I sparred with him and while I still won he caught me off guard a couple of times. Gotta respect the guy.

Cheryl is a lot more complicated case. She is eager to learn but there is a bit of an issue with changing that learning into practical use. I don’t know how to go about this, but I will mull it over for a day before trying anything.

Which brings me to the bad news, involving the titular Whimsicott WHO KEEPS LOOKING OVER MY SHOULDER!

… She’s gone, thank the stars. I swear her clinging on me is getting annoying. I don’t know, maybe my masculine image makes her feel safer in a strange land It’s just annoying!

Anyway, screw that tangent. Cheryl keeps trying to steal my pack. I swear, I will need to sleep with one eye open and looking at my pockets. That woman has the most dextrous and sticky fingers I’ve ever seen, though I imagine being a damn Whimsicott helps.

STOP INTERVENING WITH ME AND MY ADDICTION! IT’S MINE AND IT’S MY BUSINESS!

Okay, might need to go punch a tree or something. My stress levels are spiking and I do not want to explode suddenly. Hopefully I’ll find that fat goof soon so I can at least try to feign relaxation.

Entry.6, End~☆

---

PS. Next night, find a good place to hide the stuff. She did it again!

Author's Note:

In this chapter:

-I made a psychological condition and almost nothing relevant happens!

-I keep teasing you about how badass Watson is, but still won't have him officially appear!

Comments

[V-Oblivion]

Oh you tease!

Nice chapter.

[Doctor D]

5059903 Hehehe. Hahaha. MUAHAHAHAAH !

[magpye]

so watson is serprizing hmm did they ever call him a pychi type if not maybe he's a ghost if they did maybe something like a metitite cause Edger call him "boy" not "old boy" or gardevior just to mess with everyone

[Enderstorm]

Pan OP.
OP OP.
valve pls nerf

[Shadow51247]

I still say Watson is probably a Mr. Mime.

[ParadigmShift]

..For a second, i thought this was about Looker.

[Metroid Prime]

well he's been gone for almost a year XD