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Quinn followed the child’s gaze as it dodged around the top of the lighthouse. He was very pointedly not making eye contact, which was, of course, impolite. Quinn tried to resolve this issue by bobbing its head and shifting around so that he could at least try to match the boy’s gaze before he shifted away. If the boy looked down at Quinn’s shoes, Quinn bent over sideways. If he looked above, Quinn did their best to stand on tippy-toes. This was not the only way that the boy had been rude, however. He also had besmirched Quinn’s reputation in a way that, if Quinn were the more vengeful sort of ghost, would have been dangerous. He was lucky that Quinn was able to take it all in stride. “I have to ask if you start all your conversations this animated,” Quinn said. “I like to think I am consistent in my approach, and I appreciate that it does get the occasional odd reaction, but you seem to be the sort that would respond the way you have to an even simpler introduction.” There were factors that Quinn was only just now considering, such as the fact that xe and Bridget had intruded on this boy’s space, but being caught unawares by a dead adventurer and hir scientist friend was still no excuse to be uncivil. All that said, Quinn did figure out why the boy was pointedly ignoring its gaze. If their eyes met, they’d be honor-bound to fight in a Pokémon battle. For the moment, Quinn stopped trying, especially when the first Pokémon the boy tried to summon turned out to have suffered the same fate as Quinn’s and Normandie’s berries. Quinn’s mental narration tried to stop itself from the phrase “given up the ghost,” but failed, apparently. In any case, Quinn was sympathetic. “Oh dear,” Quinn said. “Well, listen. We can help you find your precious companion, and then, if you would like, you are welcome to try and battle us out of your clubhouse.” Perhaps this was not what Bridget wanted out of this whole ordeal, but Quinn was Quinn’s own ghost. It was only then that Quinn noticed what a state Bridget was in. There was a look on the woman’s face that made it clear both who (or what) was responsible and how much she wanted to talk about it. “Well, perhaps not immediately, but whenever would be most convenient.” A thought struck Quinn and she returned to the boy with renewed interest. No longer was Quinn bobbing and weaving with the boy’s gaze. “I do not believe in coincidences. I imagine we will have to find both your missing Pokémon and this lighthouse’s resident ghost if we are to solve this mystery. But such a task requires your cooperation.”