In the end, she had not been able to find a suitable replacement for the trident she'd destroyed in her match with Kiriala. In the first place there was very little market for Fisher tech anywhere except where pockets of the elusive cats were already gathering, and what was for trade tended to be overvalued and undermaintained junk. But by far the bigger obstacle had been Mirror herself. She had packed her schedule so completely full of extra activities and the advancement of her increasingly stretched out plans that she had simply not left herself any time with which to calibrate any solutions Slate or Matty had come up with.
Calibration was essential. A spear and a trident seem like most to be only superficially distinct from one another (to most seasoned warriors even, the difference is only felt in the tendencies of a thrust or a slash) but for the Gods-Smiting Whip even minuscule weight or balance changes represented headaches and nightmares for even her engineering team. There was no tactile feedback that allowed Mirror the use of any of her previous muscle memory whenever she swapped equipment. The same inputs and calculations applied to these small differences produced unpredictable and sometimes even disastrous results.
Hours upon hours of small tests, simulations, and adjustments were an unalterable requirement. It was one of the secret weaknesses of the Nine-Tails, and the reason for her extreme preference toward beam weaponry. But Mirror had blown off every single request or attempt at scheduling for weeks. In the end it was Matty who saved the day. The broad bladed sword she had machined didn't fit in Mirror's preferred fighting style, but it was an exact weight match with Tail 2, which cut the testing time down to only pre-fight ritual levels.
"Disgusting. Right to left slice requires 0.1 seconds longer hold on R7 position to replicate intended power. 0.3 seconds L3 on reversal. Unusable filth. Unusable. Solarel would..."
Mirror watches the reflection of her mecha against the glass of the mighty towers of the "Corporate Jungle" on her monitor. The profile of the blade is careful, very chic. The kind of thing the knights of other peoples' legends might carry on their way to the ╡B O A R D R O O M ╞ or another suitably mystic location. The stories that had been fed to that girl lately. The expectations she held for -- the hope that she -- the dream. To see something dangerous, that made her feel safe.
A sigh.
"...Comment retracted. Understandable impulse. Acceptable adaptation to adverse circumstances. Weapon deemed adequate given combat effectiveness of current opponent. Proceeding."
Sequence check initiated. Confirmation of walk cycle, thruster directionality and response at one hundred percent. Nine Drive System operating within acceptable parameters, rechecking current conduit activation per Chains of Power: One, Two, Seven. Acknowledged. Activating combat mode, phase modulation begin.
"Dala Hunters, whose star name is Seven Quetzal. I wish to apologize for my behavior the other night. Whatever my struggles they do not excuse the coldness I turned toward you. Forgive me. I was trapped inside a journey and could not perceive your lantern's light. But I have internalized your request and I will not speak more of it until after you are defeated. We shall speak again shortly."
Her voice is composed and silky, but it is also lifeless. There is none of the teasing lilt she's used in all of her previous encounters with the Bride and the Goddess, and no hint of the warmth of depth that draws people to her when they have the ears to listen for it. Something is wrong, and maybe even she doesn't know it.
Calibration was essential. A spear and a trident seem like most to be only superficially distinct from one another (to most seasoned warriors even, the difference is only felt in the tendencies of a thrust or a slash) but for the Gods-Smiting Whip even minuscule weight or balance changes represented headaches and nightmares for even her engineering team. There was no tactile feedback that allowed Mirror the use of any of her previous muscle memory whenever she swapped equipment. The same inputs and calculations applied to these small differences produced unpredictable and sometimes even disastrous results.
Hours upon hours of small tests, simulations, and adjustments were an unalterable requirement. It was one of the secret weaknesses of the Nine-Tails, and the reason for her extreme preference toward beam weaponry. But Mirror had blown off every single request or attempt at scheduling for weeks. In the end it was Matty who saved the day. The broad bladed sword she had machined didn't fit in Mirror's preferred fighting style, but it was an exact weight match with Tail 2, which cut the testing time down to only pre-fight ritual levels.
"Disgusting. Right to left slice requires 0.1 seconds longer hold on R7 position to replicate intended power. 0.3 seconds L3 on reversal. Unusable filth. Unusable. Solarel would..."
Mirror watches the reflection of her mecha against the glass of the mighty towers of the "Corporate Jungle" on her monitor. The profile of the blade is careful, very chic. The kind of thing the knights of other peoples' legends might carry on their way to the ╡B O A R D R O O M ╞ or another suitably mystic location. The stories that had been fed to that girl lately. The expectations she held for -- the hope that she -- the dream. To see something dangerous, that made her feel safe.
A sigh.
"...Comment retracted. Understandable impulse. Acceptable adaptation to adverse circumstances. Weapon deemed adequate given combat effectiveness of current opponent. Proceeding."
Sequence check initiated. Confirmation of walk cycle, thruster directionality and response at one hundred percent. Nine Drive System operating within acceptable parameters, rechecking current conduit activation per Chains of Power: One, Two, Seven. Acknowledged. Activating combat mode, phase modulation begin.
"Dala Hunters, whose star name is Seven Quetzal. I wish to apologize for my behavior the other night. Whatever my struggles they do not excuse the coldness I turned toward you. Forgive me. I was trapped inside a journey and could not perceive your lantern's light. But I have internalized your request and I will not speak more of it until after you are defeated. We shall speak again shortly."
Her voice is composed and silky, but it is also lifeless. There is none of the teasing lilt she's used in all of her previous encounters with the Bride and the Goddess, and no hint of the warmth of depth that draws people to her when they have the ears to listen for it. Something is wrong, and maybe even she doesn't know it.