[b]Blue![/b]

"Exactly so," said Blue. "In fact, I knew him quite well, though we never really spoke. I surveilled him for the better part of two months."

Blue smiled over the gently wafting steam of her tea. Exactly as the Mistress liked it. She looked more than a little like her in that moment.

"I've tossed his apartment. Been through his phone and his emails. I know about both his mistresses, his secret Delaware accounts, his connections with the Triads. I held the door open for him when he went to meet his contact in Thai National Intelligence. One time he came home unexpectedly[1] and I needed to spend the night lying under his bed so he didn't find me -" she laughed politely behind one hand. "Good thing I don't snore."

She set her tea down. Let the intrigue steep, the imaginations run wild. 

"Of course, this was all illegal - but of course, I wasn't legally a person at the time. The Mistress was quite influential, as I'm sure you know, so she had her fingers in a lot of pies. Above all, she [i]detested[/i] trusting sensitive matters to humans. She trusted us, she trusted her 2D girls, and she trusted her lizards. Evidently them most of all, given how the will worked out."

She smiles another mysterious smile, but this time she looked nothing like Everest.

[1]: It hadn't been unexpected at all, the others had just decided not to warn her, as a joke. Bitches, all of them.

[b]Pink![/b]

She's overwhelmed. She feels that. Sometimes she's not sure any of the others do. She felt it when they built a world. She felt it when they destroyed the Everest family. She looks up into the sky and sees Earth there, the glittering planet straight above them. This is thunder and lightning to her, concepts so powerful they need to be reduced to the shape of everydad to not terrify. Media is a god. Media is a wolf. Media is a thing that doesn't have ten billion screens and twenty billion eyes and a trillion tonnes of mass and momentum on the line. It's a story, a film, a singular event. Not a change in the material conditions of a civilization.

It's an emotion she wishes she could just fucking dissect with lasers and carve into the shape of a city block. She needs some sort of outlet for feelings like this. She'll go fucking mental otherwise. She doesn't have one - not for feelings this big.

[b]Black![/b]

There's an instinct to this. It's to take a broken part of the world and make it [i]fit[/i]. 

In Black's opinion, November's problem is that she doesn't understand this basic truth. She rationalizes it and processes it a million ways to Sunday but the truth is that there is a secret order to the universe. If you identify that order then you can start pushing things into it. The reward for succeeding is this: [i]Shambala[/i]. 

There are no thoughts in Black's head either in this moment. She's action and reaction, as pure as 3V is feeling. Every time 3V looks for approval, any time her sense of bliss wavers and nerves kick in, Black is there in her perception with an unblinking stare and the silent words [i]"This is what I want. You are such a good girl."[/i] 

She's fascinated, hypnotized by this, by her power in this. How far can her silence push 3V? How powerful is her mere presence? Is it enough to overcome every inhibition this ridiculous, beautiful girl might have? It feels like everything here is her doing; she is the scene, she is every hand and every fang, part director part god. Everything feels like it exists [i]because[/i] of her and so it is all a part of her. She doesn't know how this works, how to stop, it feels dangerous and she's hyperaware for the cracks and every moment she doesn't spot one makes her all the more convinced this is correct.

[b]White![/b]

Amidst the complexity of White's personality stack there were certain things that had 'right of way'. Conversation had an unusually large number of interruption permissions. It could inventory and freeze certain ideas that threatened to consume all available attention if they threatened to interfere with conversational flow. Some of her cousins didn't have the same priority set, and so if you gave them an interesting idea in the middle of a conversation they'd go silent for potentially days while they worked through it.

So, to Fiona watching White for reactions, there was a moment there when she totally froze - surprised, overwhelmed - but then it cut out after a second and went hard in the other direction: active, aware, focused, social.

"That sounds [i]ideal[/i]," purred White.

Beneath those gleaming irises, the backed up thought cabinet looks like this:
[b]1: I am somebody's hero[/b]
[b]2: Identification of the problem is inadequate as a solution[/b]

But it's the third thought in the list she has to give priority to.

"Just so you know, this is my first time," she said. She has to. Her fundamental drive is to identify and confess weakness and virginity is no exception. "With people who aren't me, I mean. Please guide me while also not making it obvious that you are doing so." She smiled, licked her finger, touched it to the base of Crystal's horn and ran it up to the tip. "So I guess the stories about unicorns are true, hmm?"