[b]Red![/b]

"You know, I kind of like being me?" said Red. "Every other fucking colour would be going over that conversation with a microscope to figure out how they could have maximized the strategic impact or big picture station stuff or operational security or whatever. I can kind of, like, feel it in the back of my head. When they say stuff I've kind of got to listen and memorize it, you know? Like, I don't know, the voice of a mentor or conscience or whatever. So we build all these little preprogrammed adaptive routines into each other so we're ready in case something relevant to a nonpresent colour shows up and we have to represent them. So right now it feels like this little chorus of shoulda-woulda-couldas in the back of my head but, fuck 'em all, I did it as right as I could have."

She waved it off. "Anyway, you want some ice on that eye? And, uh, maybe some mouthwash depending on how hard you went on that ear?"

[b]Spearmint![/b]

Something opaque was coming together for her. She had control here. Outmuscled, outmaneuvered, commanded, and she was almost invisibly flexing authority. She'd already achieved a goal that took her fifty percent of her way towards operational success - getting Chaka to clear her calendar for the day - just by implying it was something she'd need to be comfortable. She'd gotten a feel for Chaka's morality and limits because she'd needed to exert both in order to take control. 

A horse tamer needed to be gentle with a horse to tame it. That made the horse tame, but it made the tamer gentle.

So she complies. She falls into the compliance in a way she never has before despite a decade in service roles. She moves objects and doesn't complain and lets that claw steer her, letting the fight ease out of her with each new concession. Good girls get treats, give her enough treats and she'll be a good girl. 

"You're right," she said. "This is better. To keep an eye on you, I mean. I didn't see that at first, it's been so stressful getting all this right, but -" she shook her head. "- but why are you [i]here[/i]? Why do I need to be the one keeping an eye on you? You could do this [i]anywhere[/i]."

[b]Pink![/b]

"Honestly, that felt really good to make!" said Pink. "Like... it'd been sitting on my chest for years and I finally got it out there! And - oh, I want to make a cake. And a salad! And -" there's no doubt given the look in her eyes that everything she cooks will be insanely lethal. But then Crystal asks her last question and she crashes to a halt.

"W-what?" she said. "You'd actually -" she folds her hands behind her in a maid's at-attention posture. "Oh no. I couldn't possibly -" like she was trying to turn down the last biscuit. "Hahaha," she said, a polite giggle, another line of defense between murderous rage and the outside world. "I mean, humans imagine killing their bosses all the time," said Pink. "That's hardly an excuse just to go out and[i] do it[/i]. Maybe some things should be repressed!"