[There is no accident that can create wounds as precise and perfect as the ones on the Armless jinba in Hayame's sights, in a mirror that spilled her secrets to whomever followed her. They are not ripped, nor torn, and the scarring at the stumps is... arranged. The mark of amputation done precisely, and intentionally. The sort that made proud, fierce creatures into pitiful things that cannot eat, dress, or bathe without their new human masters.
But Hayame has arms.
And the person in the mirror does, too- arms that freeze up under the influence of Akua's power, a very different sort of cold than the Hall of Mirrors is beset by. The fingers spasm, struggle... and Hayame rips herself free with a snarl, slamming the heel of her palms into the mirror and jerking her large body up into a rear, her forehooves kicking out...
And the mirror shatters beneath them, into giant shards that crash into tinier shards when they hit the ground. There is a moment when Hayame almost thinks that might be it, her gaze whips around, long black mane following, darting from Akua to their surroundings in confusion, before... No, it would never be that easy, was it? A voice calls out from another mirror. A voice that sounds all too familiar.
Oh, you have "allies" now, do you? And here I thought you hated magic... It is Hayame's voice, echoing eerily in the hall beneath the sound of another set of hooves. Or is it something even more pathetic? Friends? Lovers? It may be Hayame's voice, but she speaks in a mocking, sarcastic tone that Hayame herself almost never uses, employs words that she never uses. No, that would be foolish. You already lost your chance at all that.
She should say something. She should deny it, or condemn it, and instead... Hayame just lashes out at the nearest mirror that a shadow passes through.]
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But Hayame has arms.
And the person in the mirror does, too- arms that freeze up under the influence of Akua's power, a very different sort of cold than the Hall of Mirrors is beset by. The fingers spasm, struggle... and Hayame rips herself free with a snarl, slamming the heel of her palms into the mirror and jerking her large body up into a rear, her forehooves kicking out...
And the mirror shatters beneath them, into giant shards that crash into tinier shards when they hit the ground. There is a moment when Hayame almost thinks that might be it, her gaze whips around, long black mane following, darting from Akua to their surroundings in confusion, before... No, it would never be that easy, was it? A voice calls out from another mirror. A voice that sounds all too familiar.
Oh, you have "allies" now, do you? And here I thought you hated magic... It is Hayame's voice, echoing eerily in the hall beneath the sound of another set of hooves. Or is it something even more pathetic? Friends? Lovers? It may be Hayame's voice, but she speaks in a mocking, sarcastic tone that Hayame herself almost never uses, employs words that she never uses. No, that would be foolish. You already lost your chance at all that.
She should say something. She should deny it, or condemn it, and instead... Hayame just lashes out at the nearest mirror that a shadow passes through.]