Had Mirajane unleashed the whirling thunderstorm of anger and frustration - with an utter [i]hatred[/i] of her lot in life - that broke when Paxton said "until I call you again" - as though she were just some [i]thing[/i] for him to tingle a little bell and summon like a dog - she surely would have blown up a building.  Maybe the neighborhood.  Maybe the whole city.  Magic was quite powerful, after all.

Instead, however, she merely wore her usual mask of patient tolerance and general displeasure.  "I may do whichever you wish, [i]master[/i]," she informed him.  Oh, how she utterly [i]despised[/i] the term "master"!  "However, if you do not object, I will remain outside of it for now, though I remain bound to it as always.  It's very dark in there, and I just spent..."  Actually, she had no idea how long she'd been in there.  "...a very long time inside it," she finished.  "I would rather take the opportunity to stretch and enjoy daylight again."  Or candlelight.  Or a flashlight.  Heck, she'd enjoy just about [i]anything[/i] she didn't have to conjure for herself.

"Now, I shall return in a moment.  Simply alert me if you require my attention," she told him.  She floated up toward the roof, and suddenly phased right through it (though a thin trail of smoke still tied her to the lamp) to float all the way up to the roof of the building.  She wanted to see how the world had changed, even if it was only a short glance from far off.

It was still more than she'd ever get to experience in the lamp.