"Goodness, aren't [i]you[/i] an eager kitten?"

Mirror can barely climb out of her cockpit, but she makes the effort to rise up like a conquering hero just the same. A pointless gesture made graceless by the sweat drenching her body. What's heroic about it is that she rises at all. The conquest is a conquest of self, of managing against her burnt out adrenal glands and uncontrollable shivers. The point of it is that she won't worry Matty, at least straight away. 

She takes the offered glass with a soft smile that doesn't look entirely at home on her face. Assessment: extreme mental fatigue. Fine control of facial expressions reduced by 45%. Refuel required. Stimulation required. Mental work, creative work... required. She sips at her victory cocktail, and finds it saltier than normal. Briny, in actual fact, though still cut through with sweet cream. A mixture intended to restore two separate reserves at the same time.

"...I see. You've all been monitoring me closer than normal. Is this your doing, little cutie? Goodness, [i]such[/i] a good girl~"

The fingers playing under Matty's chin and stroking the fur on the sides of her neck aren't just a reward. Incapacitation. Simply: a control mechanism. A little bit of play in the right spot and the overeager newbie fuses to the side of the Gods-Smiting Whip, mere meters away from her real prize. Too busy blushing, squeezing to hold onto her datapad, and purring to interject. It's a moment Mirror needs to properly meet Slate's eyes. 

To watch her for reaction. To read the tension in her expression. Even now, deferring. Waiting for Mirror's presentation to decide how to respond to what happened. Likely even to decide how she feels about it in turn. Classic Selin. The ultimate wingman, the failed guardian. Or... no. That's her tactician. So that's her game.

"Do you see that, kitten?" she asks, slowly turning Matty's head to look at Slate while she sips her drink to hide the heaviness of her breathing, "My darling partner has her scales out. She's weighing her 'I told you so's against her 'oh fine's. As if she has anything to worry about. Your teacher's system is almost perfect. Better even than my expectations. And you helped! Such a good, precious girl!"

The kiss on Matty's head rewards Mirror with a squeak. But even fun has a price. Her shoulders droop. Damp curtains of hair slip off her shoulders and bury her face. She finishes the drink in a gulp, but this time she can't hide her exhaustion. She slides behind Matty before it can register, and gives her kitten a small pat on the butt.

"Of you go, sweet willow. I know how much you want to play with Mommy's armor. Just don't go breaking anything, or I'll have to, mmmm, punish you. We don't want that, do we~?"

The danger sign is that she doesn't wait for the response. Her nod is perceptible in the sudden shift in her hair, and then she slides down the length of her mecha to drop heavily on the floor in front of her pit crew. She still clutches her glass.

Full height. Lock eye contact, dare her to blink. Hold. Don't you dare drop anything, Mira. Breathing registered as dangerously inefficient. Suggest running later, rebuild lost stamina. Focus on posture. Lower arms to full slack to conserve power. Displays of weakness in front of the crew will not be tolerated. 

Finally, Slate turns her head away. Mirror steps forward in the same instant, knee subtly buckling as her weight carries her forward into Gazing Pathway, the crew's joint repair expert. Her grip on the pantheress' shoulder is tight. Mirror does not smile, but merely curls her lips to flash her teeth. With no challengers on her, she allows herself to blink twice.

"These chains are. Heavier than anticipated. I am adjusting. Further adaptation will be required. Are we agreed? We have not unlocked the full potential of our Nine Drive System, girls. We keep pushing."

Inside the darkened, damp, and sweltering cockpit of the Gods-Smiting Whip a monitor gleams, forgotten. The last message typed out but unsent blinks on the screen. Waiting for a choice.

> Speak Not, old man. I will never trade words with you again.