Why yes, of course you may have an autograph. Would anyone else like one, before she goes? There is time. Always a pleasure to meet a fan. Let us duel again sometime, and properly. Gather more and better mecha, repair the Grasp of Dishal, and test them if you care to against the Gods-Smiting Whip. Ah, this one is for your little sister, is it? What's her name? I'll sign this one with a star, just for her.

Mirror has her fun. It is not the attention from the pirates that drives her to play things up so sharply. Though their attitude is both amusing and nostalgic in the way that organizational goals crumble so quickly in the face of playtime and a chance to learn things they did not know. It is very soothing to be around Spacers again, the only cats crazy enough to have the kind of confidence that permits excitement after total defeat. They need to be, to survive living the way they do. 

But they are not what brought her here, so they do not hold her attention for long after each of them passes from sight. It's Dolly who stays in her vision, and Dolly that settles inside her mind. This girl, this very soft and earnest girl, with her writhing and squealing through her sodden gags, with the way her entire body flushes with warmth when she catches this or that's pirate's eye and how even while she wriggles enough to slip free from almost any net in the galaxy she somehow keeps herself nestled safely inside of Mirror's own arms. 

Dala Hunters Seven Quetzal is a jewel among jewels. She burns as hot as a campfire but is easier to carry than a sleeping kitten. Her heart is even more on display than her body, and her body is... mmm. Well. It is no wonder this little thing went and got herself kidnapped, is it? It is similarly little wonder that Smokeless Jade Fires was so desperate to have her back. 

Or at least, she thought she understood this. Her fingers snap. The party ends. She steps back into the Temple-Cockpit, fully prepared to dump Dolly at the altar and slip away. Contract fulfilled, payment to be rendered later. Good luck getting home, you two. She was even excited to work out a thing or two with Valynia by way of charting her own ride home to the family that by now had noticed she'd done more than take a walk to clear her head, or even more than simply managing a better than average dinner date. 

And then she watches these two, Smokeless Jade Fires and her Seven Quetzal, reunite. She feels the pulse of their hearts tugging at the connection she's wrapped around her arm. And she feels her plans disintegrate to ashes all around her. It's not a gasp, the sound she makes. Her face doesn't even twitch. As to the feelings that [i]she[/i] leaks back into the pair? Irrelevant. She gives them nothing but water. The calmness of the river restored. Only a single sharp sniff gives her away.

Mirror steps inside the cockpit, and waves the door closed behind her. One and two and three and four. That's all the steps she needs to close space again, and each of those small and precise. The inside of Smokeless Jade's idol is not nearly so large that it can permit the freedom of more than one pilot at a time. But that is fine. It does not need to. She stoops low to scoop Dolly back into her arms, and with two fingers lifts her pretty chin to stare at the dangling body of her goddess.

"Do you see that?" she chirps, "Seven Quetzal. This. Is. The shape. Of. True. Love. These are the lengths. Your goddess will take. Just to be with you. It is not just. That I am here. She has. Suborned herself. To me. She has. Followed every command. Faultlessly. Token struggle. Just to hear. Your voice. Just to see. Your face. Just to touch. Your body."

And at this moment, Mirror touches Dolly. Long strokes through her hair, unknotting muscles that had long since clenched from the way the ropes she was wrapped up in had obligated her to stand. Or dangle, as the case may be. Her touch is soothing and medicinal. But it is familiar and possessive. She works away the ropes and she works away the ruined clothes of a sullied priestess to let her beautiful fur breathe the warm, fresh air of this safe space. No, Dolly. You do not need this. Or this. Or this. Not even these. Your goddess paid a lot for you, you realize? Let her bask in the full beauty of her treasure. 

Every naked inch of you.

She holds you close. Her arm is wrapped around you as a lover's ought to be. The one with the synthweave wrapped around it. She does not use her fingers for anything more indecent than massaging at your worn out muscles. She is chaste, the Whispered Promise. But she is careful to hold the weave close to you and let your goddess have every last little brush of fur burned into her memory, and to allow her to strain and caress you in turn, if only in this desperate and straining way.

Her fingers find the brand at your neck. She clicks her tongue and brushes her thumb across it. 

"I can. Fix this." she says it casually, even in spite of the clipped bursts of words that she uses to cut through the fog of overwhelming emotions when they threaten to devour her like this, "For a price. I know. The technique. But, later. Later. I have... never. Seen love like yours. And I must. Show you. Mine. In turn. Sit here. Like this. Good girl.

"Now watch. Do not blink. Dala of the Hunter Clan. Little Seven Quetzal. Beloved. Bride. Of Smokeless Jade Fires. You are. The first mortal creature. To bear witness. To my piloting technique. Burn it. Into your mind. This. Is. The power. Your goddess bought. Just to have you again. This is. What. She paid. More than. She owns. To use. The power. That will carry you. Safely. Home."

Her fingers dance across the simulated keyboard, manipulating it with ease. Commands sent, orders obeyed. Just like that. Screech your indignities into your gag, Smokeless Jade Fires, but bear them just the same. It is a gift that the Whispered Promise is giving your Bride. The three of you rocket away from the station and fly away on wings of crystal fire. She pilots you in grand spirals and plots showy courses through the asteroids, this time not so much as brushing any of them despite how recklessly close she rushes into them.

It's a gift for you, too. The trust to expose this much of her potential to the both of you. Because what you have touched her untouchable heart. She is mad with longing for something like what she's seen. But this is all the more she's capable of doing to find it.