"Oh no! Oh no oh no oh no no no! But, but... without my Castle Csjete and my many, many, oh-so-many servants and my hereditary wealth, I'd be! I'd be nothing more than! I'd!!" It's like watching a magical girl transformation in reverse. Elizabeth Bathory sobs dramatically as she sinks to her knees, shimmery pink claw nails wiping uselessly at the tears that won't stop pouring from her beautiful gemlike eyes. Her perfect idol's costume, all that glitz and glam, all of it fades away in sputtering light like the dying embers of a long guttering fire. Goodbye, her wonderfully frilly skirts. Goodbye, her slightly scandalous and perfectly fitted top. Goodbye, her dazzling pink-spike heels. In their place are drab browns and blacks, the frumpy threadbare yet still tragically cute linens of a mere scullery maid. In her hand sits a bristle brush, which she dramatically dunks into a bucket of soapy water that only a second ago was not there at all. And so the Countess of Blood washes the floors. "Ahhhhhh, what a tragedy♪ "That Iiiiiiiiiii~♪ "Such a beautiful and innocent maiden♪♪ "Should be forced♪ "To toil away♪ "In obscurityyyyyyy♪♪ "By this wicked♪ "Kind of uggo♪♪♪ "Step-Empress♪" Bubbles shimmer with their oil slick rainbow light around her. Maiden Ellie smiles at her numerous reflections inside of them, and in this moment regardless of rational explanations they look more like jewels from some magical kingdom where this kind of thing happens all the time. At that exact moment, a doe with a squirrel riding on its back come scampering through the tunnels and perform a cantering sort of dance around her. The squirrel darts about excitedly and together they push a beautiful glass slipper toward the dutiful heroine with her absurdly cute little bandana and her smile so alight with wonder and the endless possibilities of the universe that refuse to be trampled so long as anyone with a beautiful heart and beautifuller face continue to hold onto a dream. She takes the shoe in her trembling hands, and lets the well worn brush fall with a sudsy clatter on the ground. Music swells in the background, and [i]three[/i] spotlights converge on her person. The glass glitters like diamond in all this light: it's as much of a weapon as it is a piece of footwear. The heel and the toe are both covered in such wicked spikes it's a wonder a certain [i]other[/i] dancer doesn't want it as a venom delivery device. The drab, ordinary, but still very much a dragon and therefore the cutest possible maiden places the shoe on the floor and slips her delicate foot inside. It is (of course) a perfect fit. And suddenly she is not wearing the threadbare costume of a scullery maid, nor indeed any kind of maid at all anymore. Now Liz stands resplendent in a crystal ballgown with magnificent hooped skirts that simply have no front at all, the better to show off her slender legs and the gorgeous pink scales embedded in her creamy, perfect skin. Feel free to ask her for skincare tips by the way, everybody agrees she's an expert. The fabric gathers around her waist and smooths as it climbs up her chest and opens up for a good look at her gorgeous bust and the elegant curve of her bare shoulders before wrapping her arms in delicate silks that open from their skintight deliciousness into the most dramatically flared cuffs a girl could ever ask for. No longer are her draconic claws painted pink. Now they glitter, like the curved horns atop her head, the color of diamonds. The only pink (which is still the best color) left on her at all sits atop her head in her perfectly styled hair, which is woven into an elaborate up-do bun with girlish flat bangs and lightly curled ringlets framing her princess-perfect face. Top it all off with a tiara and she's ready for the ball! She gathers the woodland creatures into a hug before punting them off the stage. "Oh thank you friends, of course of course! It's all so obvious now! The more downtrodden I become the more beautiful the Prince who rescues me! My Prince will always come for me. Why wouldn't she? I mean, just look at meeee♪" The battle resumes, and though all Ellie seems to do is twirl in glittery light, or wobble comedically on her unbalanced slippers, or enter into a slow ballroom step with her overmatched opponent, the damage she inflicts everywhere she passes is unfathomable. Walls that have stood for probably thousands of years crack at the mere passing of her draconic cinderella power. "Reality? I don't know her. The Bloody Countess? Carmilla? Oh please, as if! You really make me laugh, you silly goose. I. Am. An. I★D★O★L★. And now we're doing a musical, understand? If you think you can reach into the future and just pluck away my past, then I'll live in a world [i]I[/i] make instead. Do you have any idea who you're even messing with?" [i]Mirror, mirror on the wall Who's the cutest of them all?[/i] "...Wait. What do you [i]mean[/i] it's it's a little mint flavored foxgirl?! You stupid mirror, see what you get!" And she smashes the very magical, very sharp and bleed inducing mirror over Lancer's head. With a sharp kick, she sends the woman flying and falls into hysterical laughter. Her sparkly princess costume falls away and reveals impractical and kind of lewd (but pink! very very pink!) bikini plate mail armor. Elizabeth the Brave plucks her mighty broadsword from the floor and levels it dramatically toward her foe. Her shining white cape flutters in the hot winds, and her heroic pink hair now falls gracefully down her shoulders and overtop of it. She has, of course, kept the tiara. This then is the answer to Julia's Noble Phantasm she arrives at. A fantasy bubble to deny the reality bubble. The death of facts and logic: Fairy Tail Erzebet. "Do you wanna keep going, oh Wicked Dragon King? Because I can promise you this: if you want to turn this into a battle of your ego versus [i]mine???[/i] Then I can't possibly lose!" Um. Liz? Should you really be so proud of that?