What does Jade do when she is threatened? When her lance is insufficient (because she will not use it to be cruel, because she wins by the rules that she sets out for herself)? She constricts, she restrains, she seduces, she caresses.

Out comes the cord.

She seemingly overbalances, lets the lance be batted to one side, but she uses it as counterbalance, and the cord wraps around one of the Snow Goose’s wrists, the lead swinging in smaller, tighter circles. She darts to one side, pulling it taut long enough to force her opponent to strain, and then lets out another length, enough for her to dart around, laughing, light-footed.

Each punch could end her. So she seeks to pull those wrists in, force the powerful mercenary to strain against her own frame. She is fast— so fast! [i]Her suit is damp with sweat. She is tying this warrior with her own ropes, and Jade whispers of pressing her up against the foe, chest to chest, both of them pretty little packages for her glory. Each flex, each pull, convinces her that the whole thing is going to come undone, that she’s going to be yanked off her feet, that she’s going to be wrapped so, so tight— but Jade is correcting for her, always knows where to put her balance, knows knows knows her knots![/i] She slides between the thick thighs of the Snow Goose and pulls the cord up taut, tight, hooks it to the web between her shoulders.

And then, because Dolly is such a good girl, because they’re on camera, because she fucking wants to, she shoves her body against the Snow Goose, front to front, trusting in the cord to hold. Daring it to hold. If it does not, she loses.

“Pray to me,” she purrs. “And I will bless your family and their stars, lifter-of-stones, teaser-of-princesses.” [i]She can feel the current running through the cables— no, not current. Magic. The magic nips at her skin and sends vibrations running through her front. Jade’s hands are on her cheeks, squeezing, rubbing, playing with her collar, digging nails into her thighs, making her shake with the effort of staying there, doing what she’s told, pressed up against a tamer of princesses, and don’t they get the big Terenian dresses and crowns? What would she look like in one? Princess Seven Quetzal…[/i] “A homecoming I will promise you. All I ask is worship. Well. Worship… and service to be discussed later.”

Princesses. Yes. An explanation would be [i]most[/i] useful. Another honor for her peerless bride! And another desired torment, yes? Oh, how you will sing of princesses for her, pilot!

[Jade manages an [b]8[/b] on Defying Disaster with Grace, and risks the match on it.]