[i]I want to throw it into a star.[/i]

Ah. This has.

She's [i]not[/i] blushing. 

What did she walk into, exactly?

She's [i]not![/i] Just because she, you know, walked in on--

What was Mosaic doing before--

She wants to throw it into a star she needs it and [i]your fingers would be so deep inside yourself[/i] and is that what she was no it doesn't smell like it and--

Dyssia sits. Hovers. Curls around the table as if-- Carefully uncoils. Doesn't know what to do with her tail. It's a stupid tail, don't listen to it. 

She's still clutching the sword, she realizes, with a start. White-knuckling it, now that she notices. Which means that Mosaic has noticed it. Because of course she has. 

"If you want, I can recommend some juicier texts," she says, blurting it out like words loaded into a shotgun, and doesn't blush hard enough to turn purple.

"That is! I mean!"

She stares at the sword, and wills her fingers to unclench enough to lay it on the table between them. Neutral. [i]Our[/i] sword. Definitely not something she's going to use on you, and not something you're going to destroy, because if you destroy it then she can't trade it for several billion lives and--

"I'm pretty sure this was a gun before. Do you remember it being a gun before? Also, I [i]may[/i] have--We may need to un-un-reality the Synnefo."