[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/4DgO1VH.png[/img]
[sup][i](ft. The Master of Masters)[/i][/sup]
[color=FFC6C6]Word Count: 3120 (+3)
[u]Level[/u]: [b]1[/b] - [u]Total EXP[/u]: 3/10
[b]Location[/b]: Smash City Alcamoth[/color][/center]
[color=DB5D39]"What was that all about?"[/color]

A woman emerged from the restroom area of Mona's Pizza. She was slender, and her showy clothes clung to the curves of her body. When she moved in a certain way, the coins braided into her outfit made a pleasant sound, but when she spoke it was even more pleasing to the ear. Her curly brown hair bounced lightly on her shoulders as she moved towards a booth were a young mage was already seated. All in all, Primrose appeared as a delicate flower seen through a fence: unreachable, but nice to gaze at.

She slid into the booth, and Ashley looked up at the dancer with the last of her pizza still in her mouth. Primrose's eyes slid to the forms of a metal woman and her small furry companion on their way out the door, and Ashley followed her gaze just before shrugging. The ladies' table was silent save for the sound of the chewing. Primrose pushed the half melted ice around in the glass she left there, patiently waiting to see if the girl, the closest thing she had to a friend here at the Alcamoth, would give Primrose her thoughts. It wasn't that the people in Smash City were unfriendly, but they were strangers; each and every one. Some of them were even a little [i]too[/i] friendly. Ashley was a young girl who was more interested in her own spells than the past lives of other people. Primrose took a liking to her, and she was pretty sure that Ashley secretly enjoyed her company as well.

Eventually, the little witch did speak up.

"A bunch of new people showed up, I guess. They're in the lobby." She sounded so disinterested as she told Primrose the news. Her familiar, Red, must not have been part of these new arrivals. "Apparently they're going to save the world."

[color=DB5D39]"Is that so...?"[/color] Primrose looked back over to the door. That was a lofty goal, saving the world. Even if these new people were just overeager do-gooders with more enthusiasm than concrete plans, Primrose would be lying if she she said she wasn't interested to see what they had to say. Just recently, all of the people living in the Alcamoth woke up and discovered that their situation wasn't normal. None of them were in their own worlds, and somehow this wasn't a dream. 

The brunette woman stood, and the witch looked up at her without even the slightest movement of her head. 

"Going to check it out?"

[color=DB5D39]"I think so. Care to join me?"[/color]

Ashley just sank lower into the booth and picked her book back up, cracking it open with a defiant huff. Primrose chuckled and went ahead to the lobby, leaving the rambunctious restaurant behind for now.

Tucked away in a corner of the lobby, Primrose listened to a princess give a speech. It would certainly be rousing, if Primrose were the type to be roused. After the princess finished, the room exploded into activity. People rushed forward to swarm that poor secretary, others shouted about fighting, and still others surrounded that large man to ask about the specifics of his mercenary plan. There was a dark robed man talking about "spirits" that interested Primrose, and she made a note of returning to ask him some questions soon, but for now she had a different destination in mind. While everyone was chattering away in excitement or heading off to the arenas, Primrose quietly slipped away to the residential area. 

While the dancer wasn't roused into excited, optimistic action, she [i]was[/i] planning to help. There was a certain man she had to get answers from, and to do that she needed this broken "World of Light" to disappear, so she could get back to Orsterra. If her contributions would make that happen even just a little bit faster, then she would do it. The current team working with the Princess were heading toward a few different areas. The Dead Zone didn't sound very appealing at all, something like a graveyard. Or Hell, for all she knew. The other two she would be better suited for. Particularly the Sandswept Sky, a desert area. Primrose spent the majority of her adult life up until now living and working in the Sunlands. She was used to surviving in a harsh environment like that, but there were a few things she needed: food, water, and protection from the sun. 

She slipped into various unoccupied rooms in the hall. [i]I wonder what Therion would think of my technique,[/i] she idly thought as she rifled through drawers. She recalled one late night in the field outside of Noblecourt when the thief shared his words wisdom with her. He laid on his back with his arms folded behind his head and one leg cross over the opposite knee. 'You can be quiet or you can be quick,' he'd said. 'but the most important thing is to be calm.' Calm she was, Primrose took what she needed and left as if she'd robbed a hundred rooms already and grown bored of it. She exited the last room in a long, light colored cloak with a waterskin strapped to her hip. After a stop in her own room to grab to her bag, she made her way back to the lobby. 

Now, after an announcement like the one he made, it was no wonder that the man - dubbed the “Master of Masters,” which wasn’t pretentious [i]at all[/i] - drew a crowd around him. So Primrose waited, leaned against the wall a short distance away in a stolen cloak. She wasn’t out of sight by any means, but while that robed man was occupied perhaps she was out of mind.

She studied him, but it was hard to tell what kind of man he was. Or even if he was a man under that hood. For a few long moments Primrose stayed by the wall, even when the last of the crowd dispersed. Subtly she opened the bottom of her cloak up, letting glimpses of her legs show. It couldn’t hurt, she reasoned.

While listening in, she got all the basics of “spirits” down. She still had questions, and if she really wanted to go through with this, leave the safety of the Alcamoth and help the world get back to normal just a little bit quicker, then she wanted to know the answers to these questions. 

[color=DB5D39]“Do they die?”[/color]

Primrose slid up to the Master of Masters, posing her inquiry as a casual one. [color=DB5D39]“[i]Spirit[/i] implies a certain meaning... but where I come from, when someone is killed, they don’t... do this.”[/color]

The dancer looked into the dark space under the man’s hood. [color=DB5D39]“So... the people turned into spirits. Are they dead?”[/color]

“Them’s the breaks, kid,” the mysterious man sighed. Extending an index finger, the Master of Masters tapped it against the air in front of his head. “This doggone World of Light doesn’t dance to the tune of any world that came before. Pieces of other worlds make it up, but everything falls under its own logic. That can be both bad and good though, you see.” He held his hands up as if weighing pros and cons literally. “Those who lose their hearts, their ‘ka’, their binding spark of life, lose their bodies and become spirits.” A spooky wiggle of the fingers. “But a spirit is someone’s essence, their personality, everything about ‘em that makes ‘em their own special snowflake. Come across an empty vessel and--poof! The vessel’s moulded by the spirit. Gotta breath some life in there, but that’s where magic comes in. Fusion happens when a vessel already has a spirit in it, so both fight over the vessel’s form and eventually resolve a merged body.” Though he spoke with charisma, the Master of Masters certainly gave off the impression of liking to show off his genius.

[i]The alpha type, then,[/i] Primrose thought to herself. Although everything he said would have sounded crazy, in context with everything else it made sense. [color=DB5D39]"The [i]ka[/i], spirits..."[/color] she repeated. The notion of taking someone else's power as her own was so intriguing to Primrose. If it would help her in her quest, she would do almost anything. The confirmation that she'd have to kill someone just to have that power was humbling though. Could she do that? 

[color=DB5D39]"An empty vessel, hm..."[/color] She tilted her head slightly in thought. [color=DB5D39]"You're saying a spirit can... regain it's "ka," is that right?"[/color]

The Master nodded. “Right on the money. There’s some necromantic types that can do the trick, I bet. For instance, that Cuphead guy can visualize others’ lives as ghosts, and he can slap ‘em back into their bodies. Revival spells, skills, artifacts. Other ways even I don’t know about, I bet Get this: if a really strong-willed person loses a heart in a certain way, their spirit alone can keep the body intact and moving. Isn’t that just fascinating?” 

[color=DB5D39]"Indeed."[/color] That was fascinating, and Primrose lifted a delicate hand to her chin as she took that information in. The "heart," "spirit" and "body"... sounded like the start of a romance tale almost, if that sort of thing included fusing with another person. In a literal sense. 

What Primrose gathered from this so far was that although becoming a spirit meant someone died, they didn't always have to [i]stay[/i] dead. 

She still had a question or two, and the man seemed more than inclined to answer them, but perhaps she could use that to her advantage. Get the source of his information. Primrose smiled at the Master of Masters, a touch of coyness in her expression. [color=DB5D39]"How did you get to know so much about this?"[/color]

“We-he-hell,” the cloaked man began, twirling his hand before placing it on his chest. “I happen to know a thing or two when it comes to such matters. In addition to being a magician, scholar, researcher, inventor of things both living and nonliving…” he said, counting each off on a finger as he did, “I’m so fortunate as to have a Gazing Eye, capable of showing me everything that it will ever see. That means everything done by my apprentice, his apprentice, and on and on and on, even after I disappeared. Pretty cool, right?” He clearly appreciated someone else having a somewhat playful attitude.

The dancer nodded, though she didn't think it was particularly 'cool,' it was interesting. She shifted a hand to her hip and said, [color=DB5D39]"That sounds useful. A special ability of yours?"[/color] Although what she was really asking was, [i]'can I obtain something like that too?'[/i] She could think of quite a few uses for something like that.

Primrose’s response made the Master of Masters chuckle. “Useful, hah. That’s underselling it. I’d say more ‘twist of fate’ than ‘special ability.’ Either way, it’s a heck of a burden. Knowing the fate of the worlds, which missions will succeed and fail, who will live and die...some might call it a curse.” His tone took a sudden turn for the serious, his theatrical manner suppressed.

The Master's shift in attitude took Primrose by surprise for the briefest of moments. She could believe he was being genuine, but then again, this type of man enjoyed playing a part. 'The hero with a chip on his shoulder,' was that the role the Master was playing now? Primrose gave him the moment of silence she thought he was looking for before she went on. While the Master was going off script, Primrose stuck to her lines. 

[color=DB5D39]"A curse, hm? A burden."[/color] She leaned in a little closer. [color=DB5D39]"Are you saying it's too heavy for you?"[/color]

No matter how close Primrose got, the darkness within the Master’s hood remained impermeable. His head tilted to one side, and he clasped his hands behind his back. “Hardly. After all, the future cannot be changed, so knowing what’s ahead makes no difference. But knowing that one cannot prevent tragedy, knowing the extent it will reach...that’s the rough part. Not everyone, I think, could live with that.”

With that, Primrose agreed. There were certainly times she wished she could see into the future, to the end of her journey - but if she had the power, she might be afraid to look any farther. Not to mention seeing the lives of everyone around her, if what the man claimed was true. The robe he wore gave Primrose no clues either way. She stood back up straight and crossed her arms over her chest.

[color=DB5D39]"It would take a strong person to be able to,"[/color] she agreed. Her subtle compliment to the man was only habit. Primrose went over everything he'd told her, and the people before her, and she smiled again. [color=DB5D39]"Alright. I have one more question for you."[/color]

A subtle shake of the head greeted the dancer’s conclusion that his ability to bear the burden came from strength. That line of conversation did not linger, however, and Primrose offered a lead-up to her final inquiry. “Well, spit it out then,” the Master told her, spinning a hand in the ‘carry on’ motion.

[color=DB5D39]"And here I thought we had a connection,"[/color] she sighed. Primrose followed the motion of his hand before her eyes flickered back up to the darkness where a face should have been. [color=DB5D39]"Make that two questions, then I won't take up anymore of your time."[/color]

She didn't aim any hostility the Master's way, but her smile gradually turned from coy to cold. A more serious expression to match the tone the conversation had taken, even though she was bringing it back to the start. 

[color=DB5D39]"A strong enough spirit. Can it survive, even fused with someone else? And... if you return a spirit to a vessel, return it to life..."[/color] she trailed off, pausing to collect her thoughts. In the wake of all the things she was learning, her mask slipped just a little, and her next words were softer than the last. [color=DB5D39]"...is it really the same person?"[/color]

The Master of Masters folded his own arms. “Spirits are not alive. They’re more or less just data. But even once fused, a spirit can be unfused. Miss Peach over there can do it, thanks to fusing with that soul-stealing scallywag, Mr. Grimm. And if a spirit is restored to a body, it’ll be just the same as it was before. Like picking up a book where you left off.”

An edge crept into his voice, as if he were speaking through a smile. “Before you go, allow me to share something with you, as a wise scholar of hearts. Well, a couple somethings. The first is that the flow of time is convoluted.” He looked out toward where the speech had taken place. “Remember Vandham, our big mercenary friend? He knew that li’l Tora guy. Tora remembers him dying, but here he is, right as rain.”

He returned his gaze to Primrose. “The second is that there is someone in the Under who can deal with lingering regrets. A Confessor. For the right price, she can summon lost spirits.” With a short laugh, he shrugged. “At least, that’s what I hear. Never been myself. Regret doesn’t do me much good.”

As the Master spoke, Primrose's brows grew furrowed and her hands gradually crept upward, holding each of her arms as if that would protect her from the Master's unseen eyes. Those "somethings" hit a little close to home. 

[color=DB5D39]"How generous of you,"[/color] she said. She turned away, but didn't move on just yet. She was processing what the man just told her. Nebulous time, and a woman who could call back the dead - or something to that effect. Her first thoughts were of her father, and Yusufa. Her next were of Obsidian. While there was a pleasure to be gained in killing those men again, if the world was fixed and she returned to her own realm while they were still alive, it would only create problems. But, if she could bring someone back with her... Primrose gripped her arms tighter, dispelling that small hope. For now, she had to focus on one thing at a time. 

She would remember that though. The Confessor, in the Under. 

[color=DB5D39]"Thank you,"[/color] she said quickly. She looked back at the Master, her brows still pinched together turned her gaze into a glare. The look on her face was in contrast to her words. [color=DB5D39]"That was helpful."[/color]

“Sweet, that’s more than I usually am.” The Master seemed upbeat, no matter what face came his way. “Bye bye now.”

After leaving the Master of Masters to his own devices, Primrose approached the counter. There were still a few people milling in front of it, so while in line she used the time to sort out more of her thoughts. Spirits were like bookmarks, in a sense. Or rather, the pages of a book... that took a little of the reservations Primrose had away. Ideally she could amass the power she was missing in order to get back to her own world and complete the goal she'd been working towards for the past ten years, then return the spirits she used to life. Although when the worlds all separated, there was no way to know if those spirits would return to their own universe. If time would go back to normal in each place. Well, until then Primrose had to use whatever was available to her, including "spirits." Gaining the knowledge and ability of another.

Ashley came to mind. Frustratingly, Primrose couldn't use her magic for some reason. She felt it, deep inside, but she couldn't bring it out. If she fused with Ashley, would the girl's witchcraft bring Primrose's dark magic to the surface? Although the thought crossed her mind, Primrose shook her head to send it away. She didn't think she could convince Ashley to willingly do something like that, and even if she could restore a spirit to life, killing a child was out of the question. 

[i]This will take a lot to get used to,[/i] she thought to herself. Once her turn at the counter came up, instead of signing up for a certain area she gave the secretary a list of seven names. 

[color=DB5D39]"If any of these people show up, please let them know that 'Primrose' was here."[/color]

With everything else sorted, Primrose chose a spot in the lobby where she could see as much of the space as possible and sat down. She pulled the cloak's hood up and kept an eye out for the desert team. When they left, she would steal away with them. All that was left to do was wait... something that Primrose was well practiced at.