Yankee

World of Light

Word Count: 787 (+2 exp)
Level: 5 - Total EXP: 226/50
Location: Dystopiascape - Port Meridian

So the ship wasn't fast enough to outpace the storm - and it looked like it would be way too dangerous to try and break through it my climbing in altitude in order to get above. The static in the air tingled. Eyes combed the clouds looking for their assailant until Sandalphone called him out. As the form of Z and his vehicle came into view, Pit flew to the edge of the Victory's deck. He was leaning so far over the rail that he was in danger of falling off, but he had to get a closer look - because Z's ride looked way too similar to the Lightning Chariot!

"Hey! What gives?!" he yelled. Unless it ended up somewhere else when the world got all messed up, Viridi and Pittoo should have possession of the Chariot. He worried over their safety, though when Z zipped across the sky overhead his fears were dispelled. Those unicorns were not Phos and Lux, and the chariot the Consul drove was of a different make.

The proximity also told Pit something else, which he should have picked up on already from the energy the storm was giving off. "Z" was more than just really powerful, and his differentiating himself from the "mortals" was for a reason.

"Those Consuls even have gods working for them!" Pit exclaimed, honestly surprised at that revelation. It wasn't the nature of any deities he knew to stoop to teaming up with a big group, instead he would expect any random god out in this world to strike out on their own to try and amass power. It also didn't occur to Pit that this god, Z, and the god that Angel Land's master charioteer served could just have coincidentally similar design senses, so he also hollered into the storm, "Gods that totally rip off other people's chariots!"

Cue thunderbolt, as the battle had just begun at that point.

As one of the Seekers with ranged options, Pit didn't hesitate to return fire at Z. His light arrows may not be as fast as lightning bolts, but so long as the Conul wasn't zipping around he could strike the man and his steeds even from afar - especially because the more distance there was between the arrows and their target, the faster the arrows would move. Of course at the same time, he had and the rest of the group had to deal with the lightning itself and the Zeustrikes conjured.

The latter wouldn't have been as much of a problem if they weren't accompanied by Z's divine wrath. They were not only fast and aggressive, but tending to keep their distance and go for long ranged attacks. On the flip side though, they were easily dispatched. At least it seemed that way to Pit, who briefly swapped from firing on Z to pelting the nearest couple of Zeustrikes to stop their Thunder Blasts from going off. But when combined with the dangerous rocking of the ship and the near constant electric barrages either from actual lightning bolts or just the static electricity building up too much and discharging, it gave the Zeustrikes much freer reign of the small battlefield.

Thankfully some of the Seekers dedicated themselves to handling the minions, on top of the area of effect abilities helping to thin the herd as they were summoned in. Trusting that to them, Pit kept his focus on the Consul. They had to at least try and knock him out of the sky! And for that the angel gave up trying to mitigate the lightning entirely, since he had no real way to counter it. If he swapped to his defensive orbitars it would sacrifice his offensive, and if he tried bouncing the lightning back he had no clue if it would even hurt the little thunder cloud guys, let alone Z himself. Besides, even just getting grazed by a bolt seemed to electrify him, making his hair and feathers poof up.

The defensive barrier Goldlewis had given everyone helped, and he could dodge to the best of his ability, but it was the chain lightning that was Pit's biggest problem. Whenever it jumped around the Seekers, which was often, he found it near impossible to avoid - leading to frequent Charges being applied to him, and of course smaller, faster bolts striking him when the Jolted went off.

Gaah! I feel like a living lightning rod! The angel separated as best he could from the others to spare them the splash damage of the detonations. He poured his own energy into more powerful and more frequent dash and charge shots which he fired at Z, aiming to stop his pursuit before he and anyone else ended up fried.

World of Light

True Colors

Primrose & Nadia Fortune
Location: Gerudo Town, Sandswept Sky
Word Count: 6898 (+7 exp)
_{@Yankee@Lugubrious}

Primrose patiently waited for Ms. Fortune to inform the guys, standing with one hand on her hip as she idly surveyed the city. Whispers and rumors were sure to already be circulating around Gerudo Town about the man claiming to be king and those that had come with him, but the dancer was already used to having eyes on her. She took the stares in stride, knowing they would lessen at least a little once they split up from Ganondorf.

It had been a few days since she’d been here last, but now that she was back she was sure she could navigate to Yuria’s shop. She recalled it wasn’t on the main market street, but near the palace at the end of an alley - so they were actually close by. And since everyone had been thoroughly rinsed by the rain in the Home of Tears, it wouldn’t be a bad time to try on new clothes.

"I’m ready," she said once Ms. Fortune was finished. "I believe it’s this way."

Figuring that the two of them were the only ones interested in the tailor (and she wasn’t sure if Yuria’s skill extended to the more monstrous forms of some of their companions), Primrose set off and led them down a side street. At first she didn’t say much, which wasn’t unusual for her. She was wondering what kind of garment a ‘skinny jean’ was, but after a few minutes she started to tell Ms. Fortune about the last time she’d visited with Jesse and Ann, and what she recalled of Yuria’s process as told to them by the seamstress. Small talk brought on by the warm sun, circumstance, and having gotten to know Nadia a little better over the last couple of days underground - though she did leave out the jailbreak that had happened afterward.

Though Nadia seemed much happier now that the spotlight had shifted away from her, she decided to repay Primrose for her kindness by giving the puns a rest for the time being, and listening to the dancer’s story instead. With everything that happened to Blue Team both atop and within the Deep Blue Seaside, Nadia hadn’t really ever thought about what Yellow Team might be going through in the eastern’s desert on the continent’s other side. She dimly remembered the Ann girl Primrose mentioned from the Seekers’ big reunion in Twilight Town, and she seemed nice enough. Now that Jesse was gone, Nadia regretted not grilling her about the events of the Sandswept Sky when she had the chance.

Their trip to the tailor was short enough that Primrose didn’t have too much time to reminisce, but she still managed to provide a pleasant look back at the Seekers’ previous stay in Gerudo Town. The magic she ascribed to their soon-to-be seamstress also got Nadia excited. “So that’s what you were ‘dune’ here,” she grinned. Even if she held off on the puns for a few minutes, her friend’s reprieve was never going to be anything but short. After reaching a more narrow market street, the two passed by a food stall where aromatic seasonings put a special twist on Squats Chicken (now with extra bones) and an off-duty smith putting the finishing touches on a sturdy doghouse for a scruffy, caramel-colored stray. At the very end of the quaint little avenue sat their destination, made unmistakable by the pair of supersized scissors that hung above the door, casting the whole alleyway in the midday light that glinted off its metal surface. Beneath that impressive eye-catcher lay the tailor itself, open to the air so that everyone could marvel in wonderment at the vast bolts of colorful cloth arrayed there. The whole place possessed a sort of magical mystique, like the den of a fortune teller, and the light of a golden lantern made the well-dressed mannequins cast shadows that danced as if alive.

Right away Nadia spotted the owner, a radiant pink-haired lady in a dress of her own invention, which blended allure and elegance without overreaching into extravagance. Nadia couldn’t help but smirk at the dainty golden scissors holstered like a pistol on the tailor’s eye. This must be Yuria, the miracle worker who could evidently expose and express her customers’ true selves through fashion. Somehow, Yuria beat the feral to the punch, offering her visitors a sly smile. “Well, hello.” She winked at Primrose. “And hello again. Are you here to have your souls made manifest? Your destinies interwoven in color and cloth?”

"More or less," Primrose replied, holding up a hand in greeting. Right away Yuria made her craft sound sensational. It was talk like that which had intrigued Primrose initially. She had been curious the first time she'd visited the shop, and she was just as curious now - even though she honestly liked her current outfit. It was similar enough to her usual dancer's garb, but with a dark, dramatic flair of feathers and metals both enchanting and intimidating. Still, as a woman with feminine tastes, she couldn't pass up the idea of getting a perfectly tailor made outfit... especially from a seamstress who was so confident with her claims. Primrose felt more ready now for the price as well: honesty. Days ago she had been cagey about her past and her identity, just as she had been in her home world. As the adventure in The Under had progressed, its stakes getting higher and their surroundings more unpleasant, she had slowly come to realize that things like that hardly mattered anymore. Or rather, there were more important things to worry about.

Nadia stated her intent a lot more plainly. “That’s what I’m here for! Primrose here said this is the best place a cat can find something purr-sonalized.” She crossed her arms with an upbeat smile, flicking her tails. “Think you can help meowt?”

The pair’s interest elicited a pleasant smile of Yuria’s own. “Why, of course. To spin one’s story like yarn is nothing less than my calling in life. But I think you’ll find that you’ll be helping yourself more than anything.”

“Oh, right,” Nadia tilted her head as she scratched it, running through what her friend told her about this place and how it operated. “Primrose said somethin’ about some kind of interview? Well, this gabby tabby’s down to chat any day, any time.”

Her enthusiasm amused Yuria greatly. Clearly the poor feral had no idea what she was in for. “Something like that,” the seamstress tittered. “In order to divine the one outfit that would truly suit you best, I must first get your measurements–not of your body, mind you, but your soul. To that end, I have a few questions, and you must answer them honestly.”

“Honestly?” Though Nadia laughed it off, a subtle down-and-back shift in the position of her cat ears indicated an instinctual defense reaction “What, do people give you the wrong measurements or somethin’?”

Yuria smiled behind her hand. “That’s one way to put it. And even one falsehood can ruin the whole process, rendering the endeavor a waste. But if you’re able to be true to yourself, the world itself will marvel at you.” She gestured into her shop, toward an elevated round table toward the back. “We can proceed one at a time if you like, but doing this together may very well strengthen your friendship. Are you ready to begin?”

Putting her hands on her hips, Nadia glanced at Primrose for confirmation. “I honestly don’t know what my measurements are nowadays, so this might be a ‘bust’, but we can’t ‘waist’ this opportunity, right? Ready as I’ll ever be!”

Primrose had shown a valiant effort not to react to Nadia's puns this entire time (neither wanting to offend her by groaning or encourage her by laughing), but she couldn't help an amused smile at these. She did get the feeling that Ms. Fortune might be misunderstanding what Yuria was asking, so while she moved towards the shop's interior following the seamstress' invitation she also met the feral's eyes and said, "this is my first time getting one of these special garments too, but I get the impression we'll talk about a lot more than our body sizes."

It was a chance for them to back out if Nadia wasn't comfortable with that. Well, technically Primrose figured they could leave at any time if Yuria's questions got too invasive, but bailing out before then would be less awkward. Though if Nadia had a little more clarity about what they were getting into and was still okay with it, then Primrose was too. Maybe it would be nice to try and form some deep friendships with the people she was trying to save the world with.

Nadia, meanwhile, didn’t think too hard about this. Even if the questions turned out a bit different from what she expected, she could take them as they came. As such she followed Primrose into the shop, then sat down at the round table that Yuria directed them to while the seamstress pulled the curtain. All this ceremony certainly elevated the experience, and Nadia couldn’t wait to get this started.

After a moment Yuria seated herself as well, leaning back in her chair with her hands clasped on the table. Nadia half-expected her to start doing magic tricks, but the tailor adopted a more serious demeanor as she got down to business. “Well, let’s start at the beginning, shall we? What can I call you?”

“Ms Fortune,” Nadia replied without a second’s hesitation.

Her friend then easily answered, "Primrose."

Yuria nodded, her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized her customers. Evidently, despite her asking such a simple question, the process had already begun. “And what would you ladies describe as your style?”

“Style…?” Nadia averted her gaze as she scratched her cheek with a self-conscious smile. “Well, I dunno if I got a lot of fashion sense, really.” She nodded at Primrose. “I don’t think you saw the ‘true’ Ms. Fortune, but my normal outfit’s pretty barebones. I’m not into any fancy, frilly, girly stuff. I’m a sporty kinda gal. I like whatever lets me move freely and doesn’t get in the way during all the action. I’m don’t mind showing off a little either. If you got it, flaunt it, right?” She shrugged. “Still… I guess I like stuff that looks badass. This coat was pretty cool back when it was smaller and lighter. Helped me look a little less shameless, too,” she added, chuckling.

Primrose inclined her head slightly, recalling what Ms. Fortune looked like when they met in Twilight Town. So she was already fused at that time too? It made sense, Primrose had been as well. "We've been through a lot of changes," she agreed, crossing one leg over the other as she listened to Nadia describe her preferred clothes. All of that made sense too, given her fighting style.

When eyes turned to her for her own answer, Primrose hummed lightly, thinking for a moment before she spoke.

"I've always worn beautiful things. Silks, gold. And you can see, I'm a little shameless myself." She winked at Nadia. Her exposed stomach, split skirt, and cleavage teasingly glimpsed through her feathered mantle said as much. It was all part of being a dancer though, and she mentioned that too. "It may just be what I'm used to. Being... alluring, is part of the job. But... I do appreciate an elegant look as well. And I agree - something easy to move in."

She prescribed to the notion of "flaunt it if you've got it as well," having nodded along when Ms. Fortune said it. She could easily picture herself in something like H'aanit's cozy furs, but something a little more high class was more to her tastes.

Yuria listened to the two with a keen interest, though not so attentive that she came across as nosy. “I see, yes~” she purred, her tone playful. “You both fit in well in Gerudo Town, as you may have already surmised. Here, beauty is something to be proud of.” She crossed her arms. “Of course, the same cannot be said for superficiality. Now then, my second question. What would your friends say you’re like?”

“Hmm…” That question got Nadia thinking for a moment as she began to realize more of the attention behind this interview. She guessed that this seamstress was more interested in her clients as people than as arrangements of numbers, and the feral could appreciate that. “I figure most people’d see me as that friendly, upbeat gal who’s always ready with a smile and a joke. Someone you could buddy around with, be yourself around, and get up to all kinds of mischief together. I just hope everything thinks I’m purr-etty cool, y’know? Oh, and funny. It’d be kinda awkward otherwise, given how often I make jokes, heheh, heh…” She trailed off.

Primrose closed her eyes for a few moments while Nadia answered, imagining what her friends would say about her. She was sure Tressa and Alfyn would have nothing but good things to say, while the professor would be quite literal with it. She wasn't exactly sure what she thought her friends thought about her, because she generally tried not to care what other people's opinions of her were. So when she opened her dark green eyes and settled them on Yuria, she gave a short answer.

"I've been told many a time that I'm mature and confident... as well as skillful and shrewd. I doubt any of them would disagree on that."

She wasn't sure if she should affirm Ms. Fortune's thoughts, so she stayed quiet on that front and let the seamstress take in their answers.

Yuria raised an eyebrow. “So that’s how you think people see you, is it? Appearances are certainly important. For me especially, given my line of work!” She laughed through her nose. “But just as what you wear shows off who you are, what you wear can hide who you are, as well. What are you really like?”

The inquiry caught Nadia off guard, even after Yuria’s mention of ‘honesty’ earlier. Her breath caught in her throat, and she swallowed. That was a tough question to answer. She wanted to tell Yuria that there was no difference between the person she was and the person the world saw. Hell, most of the time she was convinced, herself. Is it really a lie after all? Wear a mask for so long and you eventually become it, as they say. At the same time, though, she wasn’t sure that was the truth. Nadia just didn’t know. “Uhh…”

She looked over at her friend, hoping the dancer would bail her out with a response of her own as she tried to collect her thoughts. If anyone in the world had her shit together, it was Primrose. She was the very picture of elegance, maturity, and intelligence, strong and beautiful both inside and out. From the moment they first met in Twilight Town she inspired jealousy in Nadia’s heart, and even though they’d strengthened their bonds both in battle and in moments like the Terminal cafe, the feral still felt inferior. Nadia stared at Primrose expectantly, eager for a burst of thoughtful introspection she could crib from.

Primrose shifted, swapping which of her legs was crossed over the other. It only bought her a couple seconds of stalling when both Ms. Fortune and Yuria were looking at her and awaiting an answer. Even though she'd deemed people's pasts not worth worrying about in this world, her own included, she still found it hard to bare her true self even to such a small audience. Maybe starting off small would work... and then she'd just see where her mouth led her. So long as she was honest, it would probably be fine.

"...I'm a good judge of character," Primrose said, her little smile slowly slipping away. "Or I like to think so, at least. I always watch people, because... I can't trust them. Any stranger could be the next one to try and fool me, or touch me."

A flicker of a shadow passed over her face, revealing her unpleasant feelings on that for a moment. "It... takes me a while to warm up to people. For a long time I didn't want to. It wouldn't help me accomplish my goal, and I don't much like talking about myself anyway."

When she mentioned her 'goal' Primrose's eyes seemed to grow darker, reflecting a murderous storm while her expression grew serious. Her tone of voice remained eerily neutral, as though she were talking about a common everyday thing. Eventually that all faded as she continued. "...but you need honesty, right? So besides that... I'm stubborn. Tenacious. I made myself that way. And I already mentioned I'm shameless."

As she started to come to a close about what she was willing to tell the two of them, she smiled again. At first it was sharp when she brought up shame once more, as she refused to be ashamed of herself for any part of her life. Then her smile smoothed out, and the dancer's demeanor changed. She let her shoulders fall casually and she leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand and her elbow atop her knee. She seemed almost genuinely happy, just giddy to be there, a twenty-something girl without a care in the world.

"And I know that I'm quite the actress, too~" she finished with, keeping the cheerful persona for only a little bit longer. When she dropped it and returned to her usual self, she asked, "Was that what you were looking for?"

The dancer’s response hadn't been at all what Nadia expected. Somehow, Primrose seemed more conflicted than composed, and she hinted that she might be a lot more defensive, suspicious, and even dangerous than she let on. When she said ‘touch’, Nadia unconsciously shifted away. In the time the two had known one another, the feral hadn't even been aware of -much less respected- her friend's boundaries. Of course everyone has their own problems, but Primrose had hidden her dark side very well. ‘Quite the actress's, indeed. Faced with a live demonstration of just how convincing she could be, Nadia couldn't help but wonder how much of the dancer's true feelings she'd seen.

Yuria didn't seem all that surprised, though. If she conducted interviews like this regularly, she must be rather familiar with picking apart personas. “Intriguing,” she murmured. Nadia didn't know if she agreed; maybe she didn't want to know more about Primrose, if it meant finding out that the friend she'd come to know didn't really exist. For now, though, the more pressing concern was Yuria, who sat waiting for Nadia to come clean.

The thief took a deep breath. “Well…” The expression on her face, so ever-present that onlookers could only ever assume it to be natural, began to change. Her upbeat, wide-eyed look, with her brows raised and the corners of her mouth curled upward in vague amusement or interest, relaxed into a more neutral, almost tired-looking visage. “I really wanna be all those things I mentioned. Happy, positive, cool, funny. Am I, though? I dunno.” She placed her clasped hands on the table and shrugged. “Truth is, I'm kind of a mess.”

Admitting that made her nervous, but it also ended up being something of a relief. She sighed and continued. “I'm in a weird place mentally. Really…desensitized, I guess. Numb. If I'm not having fun with my pals, or doing something crazy to push myself, I kind of just…shut off. It's hard to take things seriously when I don't hurt or feel like other people do. But I'm fine being this happy-go-lucky caricature of myself, as long as it cheers people up. Because if I'm not that peppy, cheery jokester…what am I?” After a moment, she shrugged, downcast. “That's why I want people to like me so much, I guess. To confirm that's who I am.”

Nadia chuckled wryly. “And…if we're really doing this, cards on the table, I guess I might as well put it out there. Women intimidate me.” She threw up her hands. “There, there it is. Laugh all you want.”

Of course, Yuria didn't laugh. “My next question, then, is what made you both this way.”

“I’m guessing you don't just mean that last part,” Nadia supposed, scratching her head. “Might as well go through it all though. My parents abandoned me when I was really young. I was raised by the Fishbone Gang. Four dudes. I had mostly guy friends growing up, too. I hung out with ‘em, played their games, and so forth. I was a real tomboy.” She cracked a smile. “Still am. Hanging out with guys was simple and easy. Everyone liked me, and I never had to do anything special. But when it comes to girls…I feel like a fraud.” She made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a gasp, her ears flattened. “Everyone else seems so much prettier, smarter, more mature, more real. And then there’s me, dressing all showy just to prove I'm confident in myself.”

Her chair creaked as she leaned back. “Anyway…I lost my family. Our last heist went south. She killed us, one by one. Carved us up into little pieces. Only I survived.” By now, Nadia didn't even sound that broken up about it. How many times had she circled this drain, after all? “After that, there was no more Nadia. Just Ms Fortune.”

The shop's interior was quiet after everything Nadia said. Primrose empathized with her, but even so she didn't make any move to comfort her friend. She had the feeling that would be the wrong move, and might make her feel worse in regards to her imposter syndrome. It wasn't lost on Primrose that she was probably one of the girls Nadia compared herself to. She couldn't exactly help who she was though.

The last thing the feral talked about drew Primrose's eyes to her. Her gaze flickered from her face to the marks on her arms and legs, the places where her body could detach. Primrose figured that something must have happened to her in order to gain a power like that, but she was surprised to hear that the thief had literally been cut to pieces. And her family as well... It was a terrible story. The protective, violent part of Primrose hoped that whoever did that to them had suffered for it. She didn't offer her condolences then, because she knew from experience it didn't help, but there was a sympathetic look in her eyes at least.

Now that Nadia had put those painful memories out there, it would only be fair for Primrose to do the same. If she grew tight lipped it would not only ruin the point of all this, but also make her a poor friend. Responding in kind with her own story would probably be better than pretty words anyway. So when it was her turn she didn't let the silence drag on for too long, sparing Ms. Fortune from any awkwardness following that.

"...it's no secret that I worked as a dancer. I'd always loved dancing, but the job itself..." Though she'd barely gotten started, Primrose paused. In the Sunlands where she'd spent most of her adult life, only the naive thought that a dancer's only job was to take the stage and entertain. She wasn't sure that either of the women with her would know just what kind of living it was unless she spelled it out a little more. Before she did, she made sure she kept herself looking casual, lest they offer her any unwanted pity. "I spent my days flattering the dignities of men who paid for the privilege. Luring them into the tavern, performing on its stage, and if their pockets were sufficiently deep, giving them a... private, more intimate show afterward. It was made all the more degrading by having to answer to a cruel master.

"I was but a girl when I was taken in by the tavern owner. The target of jealousy and petty pranks from the other girls, and the whims of the master. I was his 'favorite kitten'." She scoffed. Just recalling Helgenish's pitiful existence disgusted her. But the important part of her tale was still to come, so she went on.

"But there was no disgrace I would not endure. And I never regretted it. Because after all those years, it led me to them. ... the men who killed my father."

Though she tried, Primrose couldn't help that her voice hardened at the mention of her father. Though she and Ms. Fortune suffered similar tragedies in regards to their families, in this respect they differed. Her father's death still haunted Primrose a decade later, and her vengeance was her life's goal. There would be no situation where she could remain completely nonchalant when talking about it. But when she realized that her thoughts were going to go to a darker place like they usually did when she recalled her father, the Obsidians, Simeon... she shook her head slightly and cleared her throat, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Seeing him avenged was the reason I left my home in the first place, and ended up where I did," she finished with, not really feeling any lighter for having divulged all of that.

Once she finished, Nadia gave Yuria her attention, wondering just where the seamstress could go from here. Instead Primrose spoke up again, much to the feral's surprise, but her curiosity turned to horror as Primrose, perhaps emboldened by Nadia's own honesty, took a deeper dive into her own dark history. Nadia practically cowered, her skin crawling the whole time, as Primrose told her a grisly tale of wanton cruelty and ignominy. Though she spared her audience the gruesome details, the dancer made the weight of all that she'd suffered in her quest for revenge very clear. Her few minutes of agony suddenly seemed small potatoes compared to years of humanity-stripping sexual abuse. Part of Nadia felt terrible for wallowing in self-pity when someone who'd seen true hell was right here in front of her, but she knew that this was the one time that she absolutely shouldn't be making comparisons. Instead she should be empathizing, making sure that Primrose didn't regret confiding in her, regardless of the circumstances. But what could she say?

Nadia could think of only one thing. "I'm really sorry." She didn't place a hand on Primrose's shoulder, but her heart went out to her.

"Don't be," she said. She fixed Ms. Fortune with a look that reassured the feral that she needn't worry or feel bad for her, then looked back to Yuria.

After a moment, Yuria nodded, her face sympathetic. "Thank you for sharing this. For what it's worth, I'm no therapist. I wish that I could heal your scars, but I am not qualified to do so. Still, I do want to say something, trite though it may sound. No matter what you both have been through, you are no broken goods. I believe that there is no stain so dark that it cannot be washed clean. You can still shine, brilliant as the breaking dawn."

She offered a reaffirming smile. "And since you have so bravely bared your souls to me, I will do what little I can to help." Yuria lifted her hands and began to weave her magic. A soft, multicolored glow filled the shop as threads of light flowed from the shelves and wound through the air, smooth as running water and melodic as sheet music. The threads converged around her customers and began to slowly take shape.

When the light threads began flying, Primrose watched them closely, tracing their paths through the air. She stood up as they wove around her, taking a deep breath to relax herself. She knew this must be the seamstress' process.

When it was finished, her new outfit still evoked the image of a dancer, but a more elegant one. Her dress was reminiscent of her original garments, though in one piece instead of two. It was a rich dark red in color with a mermaid style cut, fitted at the top with a shallow v-neck and more loose once past her hips. Both sides were slit to reveal her bare legs, one side cut straight and one with a clam shell hem. There was more fabric overall than her previous skirt, which hid most of her thighs when she stood still but swished pleasantly when she moved. And it was decorated with little gold beads that glinted under light. The beads were most concentrated at the dress' bottom, scattered and thinning out as they climbed up, with only a few sewn into the top hem.

Though the dress was sleeveless, Primrose's shoulders were not bare. A cluster of dark feathers covered both of them while also securing the dress in place. From the feathers, sheer ribbons of gray fabric fell. That fabric didn't become sleeves so much as it draped over her upper arms and over her elbow, and it was light enough that when she moved it moved with her, swaying and appearing to float. A pair of short, formal gloves of the same sheer fabric covered her hands and ended just past her wrist. The cowl that had adorned her head was completely gone, though a hairband remained - golden colored with inlaid spheres of onyx and emerald. Though simplified, her accessories remained; two necklaces, one a choker and the other laying a little lower, an arm bangle, a pair of hoop earrings and two pairs of bracelets. She noted that the talon-rings had remained as well.

To top it all off was a pair of simple, sturdy, and stylish sandals. They had a larger sole than her original pair, so they must have been better suited for walking and hiking, but could still be danced in just fine. The sandals were almost at odds with the rest of the ensemble especially given their darker red leather color, but a ribbon wound around her leg in the same color managed to pull the entire look together.

Whatever impression she may have given off before, now Primrose looked part dancer, part dark sorceress, and part high society socialite. Looking down at herself, she thought that there were parts of the outfit influenced by her fusions that she had particularly liked. The dark feathered mantle transformed into shoulder coverings gave her a kind of dark satisfaction, as she took them as proof she had already claimed the lives of the crow’s right and left wings. And though she was more covered up, the form fitting section of the dress that showed off her figure made up for it... because she still needed to flaunt that figure when the situation called for it. She spun in place, noting happily how the fabric flowed and the beads sparkled. It was easy to move in, and the dress itself moved nicely. Eye-catching, but not obnoxiously so. She was sure she would be able to run, fight, and of course dance in it.

Primrose smiled. The unpleasant pasts she and Nadia had spoken about weren't forgotten, but they were in the past - and in the face of such a beautiful outfit she couldn't help but smile, slow and genuine.

Before she even thought about thanking Yuria or getting a proper look in a mirror, the dancer looked over at Nadia. If her own outfit had turned out so well suited for her, then she was a little excited to see what Nadia's looked like. "How do you feel? Do you like it?" she asked.

Thanks to Yuria's magic, the feral's getup has undergone a complete overhaul that resulted in a striking new look. No element of Nadia's current attire has gone untouched, and nothing stood out more than her new jacket. It featured a shortened bolero style, reaching down about halfway to her waist, and though leathery in texture and appearance its color was dark blue, with a vivid royal blue interior most visible on her braggadocious lapels and the insides of her sleeves, rolled up to the elbows. Black fur around the collar and the jacket's bottom edge made the whole thing even showier. Its size strengthened her silhouette, offering a healthy dose of punk flair.

Beneath the jacket Nadia wore a tapered black silk button-up, though only a few buttons were fastened. Its sides stopped at her waist, but its front and back tapered farther downward in a fashion somewhat reminiscent of her leotard, turning what would be a businesslike article of clothing into something confidently casual. Shorts of the same style as her jacket were a nice compliment, held up by her belt with all its pouches. Her mantreads looked more like black punk boots now, with heavy heels, and they matched the bulk of fingerless gloves almost like MMA gloves. Even her collar was a little different. The bell that hung there seemed to be silver, consistent with the metal visible throughout her new attire, including a silver fishbone insignia.

Overall, the new outfit wasn't a dramatic change. It represented a return to form in some respects, but aspects of Rhodeia, Massachusetts, Cat-5, Kanna, and even Kronya remained, a reminder of how Nadia's time in the World of Light had changed her. In that respect both sets of new clothes had something in common, though the blues and reds (not to mention the very different styles) formed a sharp contrast as well.

The moment she started looking herself over, Nadia appeared to be beside herself with delight. "It's so cool!" She practically sang, all smiles as she turned this way and that to look herself over. Though these clothes covered her more, they did not restrict her, and they still very much brought out the best in her, so the extra material just added extra character. This getup, clearly expensive in make, incorporated both the charm of a scamp and the aplomb of a mafioso to create the look of a high-class hooligan.

Nadia couldn't be happier, and her face said as much as she turned to Primrose. "This is awesome! I feel like a million bucks." Seeing her friend's new clothes, she couldn't help but be wowed once more. "Whoa, you look great too!" When she noticed the fishbone, though, her expression became a mix of confusion and wonder that she quickly turned toward Yuria. "But...how did you...?"

"Oh, I didn't do much," the seamstress smiled. "Just a little convenience. This," she gestured to her customers. "Is all you."

After a moment, Nadia grinned. Being real for a moment had been a small price to pay for a reward like this. "Now that's what I call magic. Thank you, Yuria."

"You have my thanks as well," Primrose said, turning her own smile toward Yuria. Both of her customers looked amazing, and joy was clear in their faces. Yuria really was a fabric miracle worker. "Are you sure there is nothing you want for payment?"

The seamstress giggled, glad that her customers were so pleased. "It cost me very little, in truth, and I would say it was a privilege to work with you, so I would not put a price on my little magic trick. But one outfit isn't enough to live life in, so if you or your friends ever need anything else tailored or sewn, I'm sure you know just where to shop." Yuria winked. "Though of course, if my services truly moved you, I could not possibly turn down any gift you might wish to provide~"

Nadia smirked as she reached for one of her poiches. "Well, as it happens, I recently came by a little windfall. Might as well pay it forward, eh?" Nadia rummaged through her wallet and withdrew 2000 zenny from she sum she appropriated from Le Felin in the Metro. "Keep the change. It's more than I mon-need."

Not nearly as wealthy as Nadia at the moment, Primrose parted with the small diamond she'd acquired underground. She was sure that just one of their outfits was worth more than the combined gifts, let alone both of them, but if nothing else the zenny and gem could be put towards new clothes for future clients that Yuria helped. She pressed it into the seamstress’ palm.

"Goodness!" Yuria's eyebrows rose. "You're too good to me. If you're certain, I will honor your wishes, though."

"You'd better. Have a good one!" Waving at Yuria, Nadia turned to go along with Primrose, eager to show the whole world her new duds.

Yuria remembered something as her customers left, and reached out her hand. "Oh! I forgot to tell you one other quirk of these clothes. My garments are resistant to magic alteration. So keep that in mind if you ever try to make adjustments to them."

Having stopped to listen, Nadia gave a sagely nod of understanding. "Truly, a purr-iceless treasure." She paused, then waved again. "Alrighty then, thanks again. Bye for real!"

The pair exited. Yuria’s parting comment got Primrose wondering if that included the effects spirits had on garments, but her attention was very quickly drawn back to their new clothes. In the sun, the small gold beads on Primrose's dress sparkled even more. It had been a long, long time since the dancer had worn an outfit of her own choosing. And with one of this quality, she almost felt like she had as a little girl in the Azelhart estate, trying on dresses in a time when both of her parents had been alive. It was a nice feeling.

Looking at Nadia, Primrose could tell she was enjoying her own as much as she was. When they entered the alley headed for the main thoroughfare, Primrose slowed down and stopped about halfway through where they would have the most privacy.

"Ms. Fortune?" she said, unsure if the feral would want anyone to call her by her given name.

Nadia practically bounced along as the two left Yuria's shop. Being able to confide in a friend about how she really felt, even if just for the sake of material gain, might have taken some weight off her shoulders after all. Or maybe she just really liked her new outfit. With the Seekers' campaign against Galeem on pause in favor of a richly deserved break, this happenstance renewal made her feel like the world was her oyster. But what to do next? She remembered someone mentioning a bathhouse or something, probably Primrose herself given how many unique experiences her attentiveness had led to so far, and a good soak sounded nice. Kind of funny that just after getting her new clothes she'd be stripping them off, but now that she actually had something special she sure didn't want to get it soaked. Maybe I should've checked in with Yuria about swimsuits, she pondered.

When Primrose called her name, though, Nadia stirred from her thoughts and answered without hesitation. "Yeah? What's up?"

At the risk of infantilizing or alienating her friend, Primrose held out her hand and motioned for Nadia to give her own hand over to the dancer. Primrose was not so delicate a flower that any touch repulsed her, and she was glad that Nadia indulged her. Primrose clasped her other hand over Nadia's, turning what would have been an oddly timed handshake into what she hoped was a gesture of comforting solidarity. After all of that, she did feel closer to Ms. Fortune, and had something more to say.

"Cathartic, hm?" she said, though perhaps more for her friend than for her. "It goes without saying that I won't tell a soul anything you don't want them to know. And though I know it doesn't really help, I'm sorry about what you went through as well."

She didn't quite hurry through the words, but she did push past them with a small smile. "Can I tell you something else? Something my father said to me once."

For a moment after shaking the dancer's hand with gusto, Nadia allowed herself to get serious again. "Thanks. I'll be alright." She hardly needed to say aloud that she would return the favor; the two women understood the arrangement with just a glance. When Primrose mentioned something else, though, Nadia replied. "Of course!"

"Wealth is not found in the eyes of others. One of his many sayings I took to heart." It meant not to place worth in how others viewed you, though sometimes it was easier said than done. Primrose released Nadia's hand.

"Well, now that that bit of sentimentality is over, why don't we go show off~? Then meet up with Queen Sectonia for a nice soak before our next stop."

"I appreciate it." The feral gave Primrose's hand a final grateful squeeze before she let go. "And that sounds great!" She took off running, then turned halfway back to beckon her friend to follow her. "C'mon! Water we waiting for?"

Primrose grinned, setting off after her. She pressed a hand to her ear to inquire about their queen bee's whereabouts and when she caught up to Nadia, pointed the way toward the public baths.

Turtle

Welcome to RPG!

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Welcome to RPG! If you have any questions feel free to ask!

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Welcome to the site~!

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Hello and welcome! I do see plenty of Cyberpunk and Fallout RPs pop up so hopefully you can find what you're looking for! Westerns a little rarer here from my experience (I'm a bit of a Western buff myself). Either way, hope you have fun! If you have any questions, most people are friendly enough to answer!

Chronicles of the Six: Magic’s Awakening: A Magical Boy RP. Reboot

The great Fenghuang tucked her wings closed and stood as tall and proud as possible for a bird. She closed her eyes and nodded her head as Chesi began to talk. Up until a certain point. Frankly, on top of being indisputably the wisest sorceress in the land, Fenghuang also considered herself the most beautiful and most powerful and smartest. And most famous. And the most humble, of course. Not to mention the most gracious, as she had the tact not to call Chesi out in the middle of her explanation.

As for the others, she didn't interfere in their connecting with the summoned boys. Why would she? Although she was a little miffed that Denali had declined her want to swap charges. Then again, she couldn't deny that she already felt the draw of her element towards the reddish haired boy. Not her first choice for sure, but she supposed it could have been worse. With a sigh, she hopped towards him.

As for Eli, he had scrambled to his feet as soon as the bear appeared. His queasiness was long forgotten now in the face of talking animals, magical transformations, and imminent danger. If things had been normal, if they'd still be on Earth, he would have told everyone to jump around and shout and scare the thing off (and hoped it wasn't the 'play dead' kind of bear). It was way too late for that now though. Besides, his pals were actively fighting it. With elemental powers!

So long story short, everything was happening so much.

And Eli couldn't just stand around and do nothing! Conner and Gray were casting magic, David and Milo were pretty much flying and cutting, and even Noah was chucking shit. Eli wanted to help out too.

He looked down at Fenghuang as the colorful little bird approached him. Their eyes met, and Eli held his hand out towards her.

"We're partners, right? Everyone else teamed up with a little animal and we're the only ones left," he said. Fenghuang's eye twitched. "You guys are magic, or something? Give me some of your power so I can help my friends!"

The bird jumped up, hovering the air in front of Eli. Her feathers began to shimmer until they heated up, flames licking the edges of her wings. Eli looked on with wide eyes and braced himself, but with a small flash Fenghuang dismissed her fire and flew up to land on Eli's head. She made his hair even more of a mess, bending down to peck his forehead. "Ow!"

"How dare you speak to me so casually? And you demand things? Of me?" She scoffed, incredulous. "It is true we are connected, but I will have you prove yourself before lending you my power!"

"H-huh?" Eli lifted a hand and rubbed the spot she'd pecked. Could she just do that? Didn't the other animals say stuff about saving this world? Although Eli was glad to be here with his friends to support them in this weird abduction, he had to wonder why he'd even been taken along if his "partner" wasn't going to help him out. "How do you want me to do that? Do you expect me to throw hands with a bear...?!"

"...'throw hands?'"

"Like, punch it? Fight it bare-handed? Pun not in-"

"Yes yes. That sounds amusing~!" Fenghuang lifted a wing to cover her mouth, muffling a pretty and petty laugh.

Fortunately, Eli was not actually dumb enough to try that. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted at the other boys as they fought. Offering encouragement and suggestions was apparently the only thing he could do at the moment. "This bird's not cooperating! But you got this, guys! Just get it in the snout! The snout!"

World of Light

(holding 1 level up)
Word Count: 1011 (+2 exp)
Level: 5 - Total EXP: 224/50
Location: Dystopiascape - Port Meridian

After lunch (or for one of them, a second lunch), Pit and Roxas separated to continue exploring the area each on their own. Realistically, there were only so many things that could interest a teen-brained angel in the town. It was a port, but the Virgin Victory was the coolest ship in its harbor. There were plenty of shops around, but they catered to the common working person, monster trainers, and tourists. Cafes, restaurants, and food stalls were plentiful, but even with a stomach as big as Pit's there was a limit.

The only thing he hadn't really checked out yet was the farmland just outside of town. He hadn't been kidding when he said it was the biggest farm he'd ever seen - and he found himself wandering toward the outskirts of Port Meridian almost absentmindedly. Normally, before the whole Galeem recreating the universe thing, when he was deployed for air battles he only caught glimpses of farm lands while on the way to besieged cities or much, much weirder places. Seeing rows upon rows of grain and other crops organized into sections from the sky looked sort of cool. He didn't really think seeing it up close would be any more interesting (in fact it might even be less), but maybe he could get some fresh food for the road for everyone. There was kind of no telling when they'd end up a nice town next after all.

Despite the sky gradually growing darker with clouds, Pit decided to make his way out to the fields. He figured that he could beat the rain, but even if he couldn't he didn't mind getting a little wet. The only thing that might have given him pause was the weird feeling in the air. He couldn't quite place it, but there was a gradual shift happening. He glanced toward Midgar in the distance, wondering if it had something to do with that. Then he shook his head and walked a little faster.

When he got to the edge of the farm just outside of town, it was pretty much as he'd expected - lots and lots of fruits and veggies in rows extending out for a while. On one side of the path at least. The other was a fenced in field for a cattle ranch. Pit's attention was initially drawn to the cows. Cows meant fresh milk, maybe he could get a really good milkshake! But a rumble of thunder saw the ranch hands start to move their herds out from the open and towards shelter, pausing only to say some farewells to a traveling merchant that had stopped by.

While the man started down the path, Pit came up it, leaning over the ranch's fence. "Aw they're leaving? I bet that vampire-cow Pokémon has weird milk, I wanted to see!"

"The Mozzarina? Those aren't Pokémon," the merchant said as he approached, chuckling like it was silly to even think that. "They're Pals. Distinction matters!"

"Oh." Pit had heard Rui say "Pals" once or twice, but he figured it was just like calling her little critters friends or buddies. Scratching his head, Pit squinted at the animals as they were marched back into their barns. "They all just kinda seem the same to me."

The merchant tutted, holding up a wagging finger. "Not so! Every friendly monster is different. You wouldn't confuse a Nexomon for a Coromon, would you?"

Pit looked at the man, clearly baffled. Whether it was friendliness or a need to talk about his field of expertise, the pal merchant stopped to explain in more detail.

"See, they may be similar, but they all have their own quirks. Pals come in all shapes and sizes, and they have different elemental types. Some types are strong or weak against others. As they get stronger they learn more powerful moves that they can use in battle, and they're tamed by weakening them and catching them in spheres."

"That's exactly the same thing!"

"No, no... if you saw them up close you could see how different they are. Here, take this little one for example." The man dropped his pack to one shoulder and opened the flap. A little creature poked its head out, blinked, and waved at Pit. "This Ooblet doesn't look anything like a Pokémon or a Pal, right?"

Yes it does! Pit thought. He opened his mouth to say as much, but then there was a small noise by his ear promptly followed up Sandalphon's voice.

Another Consul! They just don't quit! And... two minutes?! Pit wasn't too far into the acres and acres of farm, but he was technically outside of the city. He would have to hustle. He was already turning away to get a move on when he finally spoke up again, with the merchant looking on curiously.

"I gotta go, I was just here for some food anyway!" Pit said, scooping up the closest crop - pumpkins, one under each arm. He raced down the road back to the port, calling over his shoulder, "And just so you know they totally do all look the same!"

He sprinted down the road back into town, then through it. With the storm now overhead, looking to unleash rain at any moment, the small crowds that had been milling about earlier had started dispersing. It made moving through the streets much easier, so there was that at least. He headed towards water, and when the bay opened up in front of him he spotted the Virgin Victory only a few docks down.

"Made it!" the boy said, leaping up onto the ship's hull. He sort of chucked the pumpkins he'd snagged into the ship's interior so that he could remain up top for now, materializing the Palutena Bow into his hands. Thankfully, the fruits' tough outer skin protected them from breaking open when they tumbled in.

It looked like he was one of the last of the Seekers to arrive - but now that he was there, Pit was ready to fend off would-be attackers, Consul or not.

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