[b]Orange![/b]

For a moment, she wasn't sure exactly what to do - and then Crystal called for [i]her dragon[/i] in [i][u]French [/u][/i]and it was all over for her too.  Turns out everyone here had a shortcut right around their thinking minds and they'd all activated each other in sequence. The most dangerous thing about people knowing what you wanted was that they could give it to you.

She only takes a moment to distill a data packet and send it through to Yellow so she could continue the conversation with Sophie while she was occupied.

[b]Yellow![/b]

"So, do we just, like, love these girls?" Yellow said aloud. "Because that's overwhelming vibe I'm getting."
"Wait, did you say in French?" said Blue.
"Yeah," said Yellow.
"She called [i]us [/i]terrorists," said Blue. "And then she just goes ahead and does [i]that[/i]?"
"Yeah, I don't think we'll ever recover either," said Yellow.
"You going to be okay to take this call?" said Blue. "Because I'm not."
"Only if it doesn't get in any way flirty," said Yellow.

Yellow: Okay if you wind up doing that experiment I kind of have to know the results now
Yellow: Anyway, I have a human subject 	^^✿
Yellow: Who has a cybernetic implant installed in his brain
Yellow: That SADLY does not control his thoughts
Yellow: But [i]does [/i]kill him if he thinks the [i]wrong [/i]thoughts
Yellow: And he wants it gone but obviously can't think that
Yellow: Getting close has already given him some brain damage
Yellow: Wanna kidnap him and do some brain surgery he literally cannot consent to?

The trick to dealing with Sophie was just total commitment to the bit. On a purely ethical level, sure, she might be the worst, but at least she wasn't a coward.

[b]Green![/b]

Green rejoins the pair at the spaceport, sitting directly between what could only be described as a meditative fistfight. The antipathy fades away and the others turn in different directions; there wasn't any more contemplative silence to disrupt.

With Green, it was always an active silence. She thought fast and bright, fingers moving freely as though across an invisible keyboard or conducting an imaginary orchestra. The twists and turns and valleys were both thoughts and a way to direct her thoughts; the hands could lead the mind, and that music that she could always almost hear but never could compose could lead the hands. There's energy there, stabilized and hopeful at the third point of the triangle. Ideas, followups, future steps, but most relevantly the growing certainty that she's done well and that dad will like her. She doesn't want to miss that.