yeah, judging from that reaction, damask had gotten them to think — just not in the right direction. "yes," or in other words: pass. that line of conversation had reached a dead end. see? nerd. somehow, she wasn't entirely convinced that they'd understood the question. she was talking skill, finesse, artistry, and alpha struck her as more than a little lacking in that department. if only they would've listened to her, she could've shown them, made them see ... don't push it. right. better to take the hint. she rolled her shoulders, looking every bit the part — a gracious salesman refused at the door. "sure."
the colossus took a moment, pacing, considering. (looks like the two are approximately synonymous, in their case.) a few steps left, a few steps right — backing up, backing up — and they arrived at a halt, fixed on the ground at their feet. the young accipiter watched in silence as an invisible lasso kicked up sand. was that her kind of magic? for a second, it might've been. no, though; this was something else. on alpha's orders, the dust rose and built into a wall that crystallized, then burst into splinters, dancing and whirling. ah — ! damask's windshield went solid, fully prepared to ward off a projectile attack — (... hey, have a little faith, remember? ...) — only to slacken after a few seconds, unopposed. she peered through the screen, eyes sharp, head cocking back and forth to catch every detail. the cyclone was tight, controlled, kept well apart from monochrome bystanders. a sort of shield, she realized. like hers, but sharper, harsher, wilder. cooler, you mean. the way you want to be, but aren't. she blinked, squinted, shook her head. right on time, the storm blew over — and with it, damask's brief lapse in professionalism. again with that look on alpha's face, expectant, quizzical, almost ... childlike? nah, that's too much of a reach. they hadn't asked for information this time, nor anything else, and some of her skepticism faded away. maybe this wasn't a bid for leverage. maybe they only wanted to learn.
forget the barrier. no longer necessary, and she'd proven her point. in its place, a gust of wind swept along the floor, stirring the glass back into motion. she guided it into an obedient line, spun it around, and finished with a stylish loop-de-loop as arcs met. the result: a glittering ring around her perch, spiraling, radial. the spell was offhand, a little slow, a little lazy, idly cast as she spoke.
"impressive," damask said, something of a gee, whiz! in her enunciation. "good defense, good offense — stop an opponent, cut 'em up too. you could've tried using me for target practice. i appreciate that you didn't." even though you might've liked to. "however ..."
she paused, talons tapping as she sought out a toxic set of eyes. what is it about them? (them, is that right?) not that, not that ... twice they'd slipped up; twice she'd seen through them, caught and corrected. that can't happen very often with them. was this all scientific, or was it something else? it's whatever you say it is, kid.
someone had asked her a question once, but they hadn't given her space to respond, to prove herself to the fullest extent. giggle had assumed that three spells (count 'em, three) was the best she could do — that her answer was yes. alpha would not be done the same disservice. a half-smile tugged at the bird of prey's lips, flaunting the tip of one canine tooth. a challenge.
"i have to say, i'm left wanting more. now, is that all you've got?"