Hello, I Am Detective Pearl Moon

I Know the Truth is Hard to Accept, Grian, But This is it

Summary

Pearl fucks around and finds out many times in a row.

Wednesday, February 15

Pearl floated in the void. Just moments before her home server was laid out before her, just as colorful as she remembered. Then it kept changing, becoming more destroyed. And then it was gone.

Pearl didn't know if she was falling, flying, or floating. But she soon found her bearing when her eyes shot open. Or at least she thought they did. Normally, she'd see a faint light from her window. Everything was pitch black. The sounds of the city were still there, along with the warmth from the blanket she had kicked down to her legs. Tilly didn't weigh down the end of her bed, but Pearl still stayed in her sleeping-fetal position. Tilly must've left in the middle of the night.

But, as her wings gave warmth to her torso, they also hurt a little. Like someone was slowly pulling at a feather.

As she was prone to lucid dreams or dreams-inside-of-dreams, Pearl had developed a way of checking. The first one was clothing. In these situations, she sometimes was wearing a pair of overalls, not her normal nightgown. She moved her hand through molasses and felt the soft fabric of her nightgown.

Alright then, it must be the other one. The other tell was her hands. Now, people always say to count your fingers to see if you're lucid dreaming. For Pearl, she checked whether her hands were bloody or not. Rubbing her fingers together, Pearl found out that they were their normal dry.

Her first thought was, Huh. Is the power out for the other buildings? Deciding to investigate it, Pearl tried to sit up. A firm hand kept her down. At this, her heart rate rose. Every night, Pearl locked every lock to her front door. All the windows were firmly shut (she was also on the fifth floor, no one is crazy enough to scale that high).

The light pulling became slightly less light. Pearl recognized where the feather was, it was a primary one. Sure, a singular pissing primary feather wasn't too bad. But it would hurt for a while.

And as she couldn't move for it to stop, she'd have to ask. Pearl opened her mouth to try and ask the person to stop, but nothing came out. Her vocal chords didn't feel weird, it's just that there was no sound.

Pearl's mind raced as she tried to figure out what was wrong. Was there actually a person? Did they have a silencing magic? Does it have to do with work? Is the person a Watcher? How'd they get in? Why can't I get up? Why can't I speak?

She worried and worried as the feather got farther and farther away from her own wings.

Then she used her detective brain. Yes, she wanted to know what was going on. But, if she was to file a report (which she certainly would for breaking and entering and possibly another claim), she'd need evidence. And sitting on her bedside table, was her phone.

As fast as she could, Pearl grabbed her phone and swiped over to the camera. She turned the lens above her and took a photo. The flash blinded Pearl, and she would've cried out if she could talk. There was certainly a person above her because they hissed and ended up yanking Pearl's feather out.

The spell seemed to have broken and Pearl screamed. The pain of getting a feather pulled is commonly associated with pulling a hair out or getting rid of a bad hangnail. Primary feathers hurt 100 times more than that.

But it also made the person mad. They quickly recovered and once again held a stunned Pearl down. Pearl also soon recovered. In a flash of panic, she moved her camera to video and aimed the lens back at the person.