Day 1 Evening

[Belle]

Before encountering Weiss

After Mickey finished 'dressing' her wounds, the two of them started walking. It would've been nice to take it easy, to make sure she didn't have a concussion or something, but who knew when the suited man would return? And next time, he might have allies with him.

Belle chewed her lip, gripping the crowbar a little tighter as she stepped over an arching root, following in her companion's overly-large footsteps. She didn't like having to think that way. Surely Mickey was exaggerating when he mentioned how many people would be out for them. Surely their lives were worth more than the chance at some extra bit of power. Unless...

She glanced up, watching as two round ears disappeared behind a bush.

Primes - that was what they were called. Immortal beings granted overwhelming power by the forces that ruled over this universe. She'd heard about them in passing, and very little of it was good. What they seemed to be most well-known for was their performance in bloodsports. Acts of heroism? Those seemed to be few and far between.

"Hey Mickey?" she called.

The anthromorph's head popped back out from behind the bush. "Yeah?"

"Are you a prime?"

The king tilted his head with a grin. "Of course!"

Swell. Well, at least Mickey didn't seem so bad. She had a hard time imagining him getting his pristine white gloves bloody. "And," she said carefully, trying hard to sound casual, "is your friend, that Red Power Ranger guy, a Prime, too?"

The mouse narrowed his eyes at her. Slowly, he stepped back through the brush - towards her. Shit - had she gone over the line somewhere? She backed up, only making it half a step before bumping into a tree. He reached his large hand out -

And put it on her forehead.

"Are you sure you're feeling okay?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

She let out a hard breath. "I'm fine," she mumbled, reaching up and gently removing the cartoon mouse's touch.

Mickey chuckled. "If you say so! But obviously we're all Primes." He spread his hands out to the side, palms open with a smile. "Aren't you?"

Again, she felt ice creep through her veins. Shit. "Obviously," she lied through her teeth. Of course they didn't care about killing each other if they were Primes.

This was some kind of sick joke, it had to be. Somewhere, the ruler of Omniverse was having a laugh at her expense.

Her hand clenched around the crowbar. Well, the joke was on it this time. She wasn't the same helpless girl that had been dumped like a piece of trash into Coruscant's bowels. Lady Yuki had helped her realize that. Inside her, she had power - ki, chakra, spiritual energy, whatever you wanted to call it, it was real.

The only problem, a small voice reminded her, was that she'd only just barely begun to learn how to use it.

The mouse was still staring at her. Did he suspect that she wasn't telling the truth? Maybe. She had never been a particularly good liar, either. "It's just, you know," she gestured vaguely, "I haven't had to fight ... that often. Obviously."

She'd have to think of something quick.

"Are you ready to listen, then?" Mickey asked, and smugly held up his precious 'survival guide.' Belle gave him a look, but he had already turned heel, flipping through the pages as he tromped back through the bushes, calling out to her: "Here, I'll make it easy - I'll read while we walk!"

Some time later...

Belle turned the syringe over in her fingers. It didn't looks like much. What a weird thing to be carrying around, she thought, but then realized that any ghoul that saw fit to gift Mickey Mouse with pornography probably wasn't all that stable to begin with. A syringe might not be even on the top ten of weird shit.

What was inside it, though? That she didn't know, and she was in no hurry to find out. She made doubly sure it was safe before stuffing it into her jacket pocket. Didn't want to get pricked.

She hoped she was right that it was an item from the spirit. She would hate to find out she had taken the girl's insulin, or something. She was cute.

"You didn't do it," Mickey said reproachfully.

"Next time," she sighed. The mouse wasn't going to let up on this, and in fact hadn't shut up about this article or that article since he'd started reading hours ago. How much crap could possibly be in one magazine? "I promise. Next time."