[center][img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/dHRmLjk2LjlhMjY3MC5VSEpwYlhKdmMyVWdRMmhoYzNSaGFXNC4w/rouge-script.regular.webp[/img][/center]

The phone vibrated on the counter, moving slightly near the edge. Primrose sat on the chair, sipping a cup of tea she just brewed and glanced at it. It was from her mother. She didn't see the entire message as it cut off, but what she did see didn't make her want to read it.

"Dear, what is this I hear about you working...."

She could easily sum up the rest of it without needing to open the message. Her mother was curious why she was working, essentially, with the police. After all, Chastain's didn't need to work and, if they did, it wasn't in the civil services. And she had no intention of explaining herself. 

She wasn't blind either. She saw the looks she got at the parties she attended. Whispers said she was having a mental breakdown. Perhaps that was the better explanation than the truth. She joined mainly for herself. To answer questions. To put together messy situations so that others got closure. Something she never got. Maybe she never would get it. And, if she were being honest with herself, she was also doing it to spite her family. They didn't care about anything she did growing up, but now all of a sudden they do? Screw them.

Her phone buzzed again and she rolled her eyes, expecting a follow-up text. Instead, she noticed it was an email. She unlocked her phone (the real one that Fynn set up for her team) and opened up the email.

[i]Please report to the scene of an MVA at 30°39'44.2"N 90°42'45.8"W ASAP.
Sunday Group Operations[/i]

MVA? She had to piece together what that meant. Magical Violence Accident? That would be right up her alley. She finished her tea and got herself ready. Her phone vibrated again and Primrose looked at the pictures she was sent. Glyphs. She didn't recognize them fully, perhaps she would on the scene itself. She had a feeling today was going to be a long one.

[hr]

As Primrose pulled up, she saw the scene and did a mental facepalm. It looked like a traffic accident. Why the hell were they called in? She stepped out of her car. Dressed in a light pink blouse and black pencil skirt, her heels clicked as she walked towards the two people on her team she noticed. Her commander...or leader...or boss...really what was the right term for Eleanor? Was looking in the car. Alyx, painter extraordinaire, was also here. As Primrose walked up, she heard Alyx mention a scrambled message. Primrose finally took in the scene as she stood near the others. The man looked like he wasn't having the best day. Glyphs aside, this seemed like a traffic accident.

Which led her to believe it was anything but.

"Well that's....okay I'll be honest. That's gross. Like sorry and all that, but geez, look at the state of this." She took a deep breath. She knew going in that she would be seeing scenes like this, or worse.

"Do we have any witnesses? Any security or traffic cameras that might have seen what happened? I can pretend to be someone and talk to them if need be." Her illusions ranged from helping mask a scene from onlookers to cloaking herself to appear as someone else or even invisible. So long as people were willing to suspend belief for even a second, she could get away with a lot.

She also didn't want to be around the scene any longer than needed be. The glyphs seemed more in Alyx's territory than hers and she wasn't dumb enough to pretend she could do everything.

[hider=Synopsis]
-Primrose ignored a text from her mother about the new job she took
-Primrose arrived on the scene and quickly determined there was more here than meets the eye
-Primrose offered to speak to witnesses or gather security footage of the accident in order to not have to look at the gross dead guy any more than was necessary.[/hider]