"Hm." Mirror squeezes one hand with her other to keep both of them away from her teeth, "Black hole generation. I see. Net and Spear in the same hand; I see why she had so much faith in her Roar."

Her eyes dart around the room, only sneaking sidelong glances at the screen now. Her entire body is twitching and shaking like mad. Fingers writhe like serpents caught in each others' vice, neck pivots, shoulders roll, hips swing in her chair. It is not a question of trying not to fight the battle she is watching: she is already fighting it. The problem is that she must do battle from both positions at once. The problem is that she is not in her Gods-Smiting Whip. The problem is that she [i]must not be[/i]. Even if she could. Not in front of a witness.

Her chest squeezes as tight as if Jacinta Niares had caught it in her claws. She rests her head in her hand, and watches the match with one eye through the space between her fingers.

"Stable technique," she notes, and her voice is utterly detached and clinical in contrast to the wild stresses of her body, "Indefinite pressure. Most would consider this impossible. The calculations required to manifest this weapon... Whatever else she may be. Jacinta Niares is a mathematical prodigy."