A sigh. A sigh. A sigh. The dance resumes, and what had been liquid motion chasing a hidden melody inside the ballroom becomes a demonstration of raw power. The stomping of her feet, the twirling of her partner, the low dips where she is above the Terenian at last, and the two can share long, soulful, meaningful looks in the shadows where their hair paints the floor without anyone guessing quite what they're about.

A sigh. A sigh. A sigh.

"Family. Is NOT. Blood."

They rise. They fly. There are no thrusters hidden in the ribbons that pass for Mirror's dress but when she leaps there is force behind it. Enough to pull Isabelle off of hers, enough to carry the pair in a small rainbow of an arc across the dance floor. Enough to crash down with an authoritative crash that is almost in sync with the percussionist. She frowns, a flicker of darker irritation passing across her face.

"Dismiss my words as an Outsider's ramblings if you must. But I. Will speak..." she pauses for a long and awkward moment as she grasps about in her agitation for the word she's supposed to be using, "Cl-clarity. Obviousness. Tru... truth. Truth. I will speak my truth. Frankly!"

Her voices pitches upward in triumph, victory that has the pair of them twirling and fanning out their ballroom gowns to capture the eyes of everyone around.

"Your mother is an idiot. She has taught you backwards, and a thousand years ago I would have killed her for putting you together so wrong. Today I will settle for simply tearing her empire inside out. I will cast her down from the pillar she is lounging on, and only then will I hear what she has to say about [i]survival[/i]. Listen. Listen to me. Listen. Listen, Isabelle Lozano!"

Her hand is pressed over Isabelle's mouth now. Not so forcefully that breathing has become difficult, but a gesture that requires real effort to speak over, or around. There is a desperation welling inside of her, now that she's heard these things. She has an impression to make and no time to make it in. The words, the words, what are the words? Her heartbeat rises to levels associated with panic, though even now her dancing is smooth and controlled. She bites her own lip, hard enough to draw blood with her fang.

"Survival of the fittest is a fool's interpretation of the world. The strong live. The weak perish. Stupid. What is the point of strength, Isabelle Lozano? Why do you feel conflicted when you follow this natural law? The strong do not eat the weak. Weak meat makes weak warriors. No. The strong eat the strong, to become stronger.

"Why? To grow. To cast a larger shadow. To wear a larger cloak, and cast it over the weak. To shelter them from the storm. Their lot is to live, and wait. When we die, they will consume our corpses, and become strong themselves. Did I tell you that those who couldn't find new jobs would be left behind? Did I tell you they should fend for themselves? I did not! What is the point of strength? What? What?! The universe is unfair! Then [i]we[/i] bring fairness to it! An arm! Strong enough to push against the scale! That is, that is, [i]that is![/i]"

A sigh. A sigh. A sigh. The dance resumes, and it is quiet and stately. Mirror is quiet, and with every breath she calms. She slips back into the mask of the perfect pilot, and her fingers squeeze plaintively against Isabelle's.

"You are not the source of your troubles, Isabelle Lozano. Your head was put together upside down. Someone else has done this to you. I remove your blindfold now. You had a choice, with Ksharta Talonna. You chose what was taught you. You chose harm, for the sake of protection. You are so close. And so far. All at once. The act of submission to another's will is a choice. You are not a goddess? Neither is your mother. Choose to save your beloved, or choose to strike back. Choose even greater cruelty, if you will, but it [i]is[/i] a choice. You are in far more desperate need of my wish than I realized.

"...If Solarel is what pried your eyelid open first, then that is good. Smashing open doors is what she does best. But you must walk through it now. Let go. Let go. Learn what it is that makes you strong, Isabelle Lozano whose name is Distant Gate. Leave your mother to me. I will show you. How far her blunt her claws have become. How short her reach. How family... is [i]not[/i]. Blood."