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Grimoire didn’t own any birds. Sally knew that. He wasn’t really one for owning pets, it was something they’d gotten into a chat about around the time he’d first hired her as his assistant.
Yet, she’d found a few feathers in his house.
She had no idea what bird the were from, but she’d get an answer from Grimoire about it eventually. After all, they were sure to get a long case or two that meant she could bring it up. And he may end up scatterbrained enough to give her a real answer.
Hello Detective Grimoire fandom! My brain was eaten by plot bunnies after being reminded that Mermaid Mask was gonna come out some time this year ago so I felt like I needed to write something for the series. And, since magic stories are my bread and butter, I’ve turned Grimoire into a creature.
I have no idea of how far I’ll manage to get this story, but I wanted to try it and see how far I got.
It probably won’t be too far, since this is a very niche series that doesn’t have very many people in it. But we’ll see.
The Detective with Magpie Tendencies Chapter 1: Shedded Feathers
Grimoire didn’t own any birds. Sally knew that.
He wasn’t really one for owning pets, it was something they’d gotten into a chat about around the time he’d first hired her as his assistant.
A fairly normal icebreaker to pull out when you wanted to get to know someone that she’d pulled out while making small talk with her new “boss” as he filled out a couple reports for a solo case he’d just finished before she’d shown up at his office looking for work. Boggy’s Bog finally being properly shut down, and leaving her without a job. And no recommendations she could use to help her apply to a new job. (Though Harper had been willing to write a letter of recommendation for her.)
So she’d taken the chance and went looking for the detective in hopes of either being hired or at least getting pointed to somewhere that would take her.
(Thankfully, he’d said yes. Mostly because he needed help with paperwork more than anything else and she was willing to sit down and actually work on that.)
She’d learned he never had pets of his own, but a few of his cousins owned cats. He didn’t plan on getting any in the future, not unless he stumbled on the Right pet, just because he wasn’t sure he’d have time to take care of them.
Sure, his detective work could be slow at times, but then he might get a case that would have him away for who knew how long, with a client that wouldn’t be keen on him bringing a pet along with him. And he didn’t want to leave them home alone, even if he had neighbors that would be willing to take care of them for him until he came back.
Sally could respect the reasoning, putting the animal’s needs before his own want for a companion at home.
Plus, she’d quickly learned that the man could be pretty absent minded when it came to taking care of himself.
He’d forget to eat some days when deeply focused on something he was trying to solve, or just something he really enjoyed doing. He’d forget to brush his teeth when staying somewhere new to him, or to change out the trash can in the office after he’d thrown a banana peel or something into it and it started rotting. He’d once gone for days without deodorant because he kept forgetting to stop by the local pharmacy on his way home to pick some up.
And the less said about the dirty laundry pile she’d seen in his bedroom during one of her visits to his house, the better.
So forgetting to care for a pet, even something that could get his attention like a cat or a dog, was definitely something she knew he could do without meaning to.
All of this was to say, she knew fully well that Grimoire didn’t own any pets. Least of all a pet bird of some kind. And his house was way too small for him to’ve gotten one without her finding out about it.
(It wasn’t one of those cheap single-floor prefab houses, but it was roughly the same size. It was also messy as hell, because the man was a human magpie who picked up everything that caught his eye and loved collecting little knickknacks to bring home with him and often forgot to clean up or organize the place. Honestly, she was half-tempted to ask to move in just so she could have a valid excuse to clean the place from top to bottom without him being able to stop her.)
Yet, she’d found a few feathers in his house.
They had been getting ready to leave for a case and Grimoire was running around trying to pack the things he thought he needed and had forgotten where he’d put them in his dinky little house. Leaving her to wait while he tried to grab them quickly so they could head out quickly.
She’d flopped down onto the couch to wait for Grimoire to finish his packing, and felt something jab painfully into her thigh. Something that drew a small “ouch!” from her over the sudden spark of pain near her knee.
It didn’t do any real damage, there was no blood after all. It was surprising more than anything else.
When she’d shifted to the side to look at what had jabbed her, she found a rather scraggly bird feather sticking out from between the seat cushion and the armrest. With the quill of the feather sticking out, obviously being the thing that had jabbed her. She carefully pulled it free to get a better look at it, trying not to tear it before she could get a proper look at it.
It was a dark color, for the most part, and actually fairly long despite the small piece that had jabbed her. A deep red that looked almost black unless she held it under the light, kind of like the darker shades of Grimoire’s hair. And she could see a brighter red closer to the tip of the feather too.
If it had been in better shape, she would have thought it was kind of pretty. As it was, the feather was really scraggly looking.
The feather was bent and broken, with chunks of it missing. Including most of the red tip of the dark feather. It looked kinda dirty, too, from what little she could tell.
Bird feathers were usually kind of shiny or glossy if the bird was properly cared for (at least, that was what she’d always heard) but the one she was holding definitely wasn’t like that.
She pushed the cushion further away and found a few more scraggly dark red feathers and a few washed out, almost creamy red ones too. Some with intact tips to the feathers, others were missing their quills, and some even were broken in half. But there were small fluff feathers between the cushions too.
She had seen those before. She’d always assumed they were from a pillow or a puffy jacket Grimoire owned with a hole in it. But there were way more in the couch than she’d ever seen in the corners of Grimoire’s tiny, fairly messy house.
That did not, however, explain where all of the feathers came from in the first place.
She frowned at the strange feathers, gently rubbing them between her fingers as she stared at them.
It didn’t look like Grimoire was trying to hide them for any reason. If anything, it looked like they’d gotten stuck there by accident at some point and he’d never cleaned them out. Girmoire didn’t have any birds, so where on earth did he get these feathers for them to be lost in the cushions of his couch?
She could ask, obviously. It would be the easiest option, after all. The question, however, would be whether or not Grimoire would tell her.
She didn’t really think he would lie, but this was weird enough that he might try to lie about it. Grimoire was a terrible liar most of the time. He was way too honest and open, in face and mannerisms, for him to give a good lie under pressure. He might direct attention elsewhere, or deflect, but it would be pretty obvious if he did. At least, she felt like she’d gotten to know him enough for it to be obvious.
And… Was it really that important? It was just some feathers stuck in the couch cushions.
For all Sally knew, they were from some old Halloween costume he’d had one year and he’d never noticed that some of the feathers had come off of it.
She ended up stuffing the better looking ones in her pockets when Grimoire scrambled into the room with bag off stuff and a declaration that he was ready and then they were off and away.
She wouldn’t remember she’d picked up the feathers until later, when she found it in her pockets as she threw her things into her laundry basket. And she wouldn’t really think about where the feathers came from again until weeks later.
Not until they ended up on a case where their client had actually factored in how long they would be away from home.
And she ended up learning something pretty big about Grimoire that she’d never thought was a thing.
Sally gets hints that something is up with Grimoire. And notes some things about him.
I realized as I was writing this that I actually was giving Grimoire a bunch of my ADHD traits (messy house, forgetting basic things when focused, not remembering what should be easy pit-stops to get things, etc.) but also- They just feel right for him??? I can’t tell if it’s just how much I like/relate to him or if there’s something in his canon characterization that feels very ADHD. It feels like he’s one to me and that’s enough for me.
Sally mentally stepping in to be the reminder-buddy feels right too. Not a mother hen, per say, but going “Hey, you need to stop and eat man” every once in a while to make sure Grimoire doesn’t accidentally starve himself without noticing. Maybe nipping at his heels every once in a while to take better care of himself or stepping in to help if she notices the Struggle with basic things.
Needing someone like that in his life is part of the reason I think Grimoire looked so scruffy in Secret of the Swamp (at least compared to the version of him from Tangle Tower). He was forgetting to take care of himself due to ADHD. No idea if he’s medicated for it, but he’s got it in this story.
I’ve started a second chapter for this, but it’s not finished yet and I’m not 100% sure when it will be. But I’m pleased with the writing so I wanted to post it anyway.
