Skizz yawned and sat up in bed. He shook the sleep out of his eyes and glanced around his bedroom to find that his husband, Impulse, was gone.

That was normal, however, since Impulse never got up later than 6:00.

He padded downstairs to find the research team and the hunters sitting around the breakfast bar, watching Impulse flip pancakes, scramble eggs, and fry bacon with an extra flourish.

Again, completely normal.

He hummed as he walked over to Impulse, wrapping his arms around him and hugging him from behind, chin on his shoulder.

Impulse chuckled.

"Good morning, Skizz."

Skizz returned a sleepy hum. "Mornin', Dippledop."

The routine morning was interrupted by the sound of the business phone ringing.

"I got it," Tango grumbled, sliding out of his seat and walking over to the phone. He picked it up, answering, "Phasmophobia Ghost Hunting, this Tango, head of the hunting department speaking. How may we help you today?"

He was met with the sound of a woman on the other side.