"A lightly disaffected princess," Persephone repeats. The doll's starlike eyes- or their reflection in the river, depending on which gaze the magical girl is meeting- shut again. Without lips, it conveys a thoughtful smile. "Ahaha, you really are too smart! I haven't said anything at all, but you make me feel like I've already said too much? And also like 'too much' is just the right amount. This is a magical girl's power, isn't it?"

A hand cups her own cheek as she looks sideways at Vittoria, with a plastic-on-plastic clack. She doesn't directly acknowledge the 'dark mirror' part; rather, it feels like she's gently pulling her away from that topic. "Purpose," she says. "As long as you're going somewhere, you might be going in the right direction. But if you're standing still, there's no chance at all. Isn't that right?"

Lighthearted indignation follows. She sits up straight, asserting her height. "Do you think that I don't already have a cute costume? Mysterious space girlfriends and big demon queens get to have really good ones, you know! Sometimes even better than the protagonists'."

"I know a character when I see one! Even if it's only one face of you, I can see it. I'm used to being with people who like being seen like that, so... I have a pretty good eye for it."

"And... I think purpose is too... well, not too weighty. It weighs as much as the world. But it really is more something like... impetus? I have... something bubbling up that makes me keep moving. And it's... a person to be. Like a bulb inside me that's going to bloom into a flower, but I don't know which one."

"Aa- noooo- I mean i got the impression you were all serious and stuff and-"

She rapidly decoheres into a mess of mutually orbiting apologies, blushing.

"No, no! Don't be sorry! That's completely forbidden!!" The doll outstretches an arm, as if to grab Vittoria and physically pull her out from the whirlpool of blushy apologies.

"I've been way too serious. I promise I don't want to be. It's just... hard. You know? How would I put it?"

A little pause. "'You can leave the throne, but the throne doesn't leave you.' Does that make sense? I guess I'm never really as irresponsible as I feel."

"... Show me sometime. The kind of outfit you'd choose for me. I really don't have enough. And maybe it would be more un-serious than what I can make on my own?"

Vittoria reconvenes from multiplicitous moe meltdown to a more mild moe embarrassment, wrists stilling as if physically restrained and then settling back on her lap.

"Um. Maybe I overreacted there a bit. I'm used to missing the mark on aesthetics... hurting people. I don't think you're like that."

"...And. I think I get it...! I really get it. It's... it's a classic. Sometimes I lapse, even when I'm being someone else that isn't like that, and try to make friends when I'm not supposed to. There are ways it bleeds through even across the edge of a sword."

She closes her eyes.

"...I'd love to dress you up. You look misty and and deep like the outer sky."

One eye open-

"But I think I have to know you a little better first."

"Entelechia," Persephone says, in a quiet moment as Vittoria recovers.. "That's what it is. Not purpose, but the need to blossom. To become more truly what you already are."

Then she laughs, like the idea of hurting her is intrinsically funny, and rests her chin on the heel of her hand. "I'm sorry. That sounds really hard to navigate. I promise I'm not like that, little star!"

"I really, completely promise that you are totally incapable of hurting me in a way that matters. Does that help?"

Something leaves her; dropping back down a notch. She laughs again. For how rich her voice is, the giggles are surprisingly girlish. "I'm sorry: that was, a little bit, a lie. But it's a nice lie to believe in, and I'll let you believe it if you want."

"Does it help with feeling anxious?" she clarifies. "Or with getting to know me? I don't really know how to get known on purpose. You might have to teach me. I hear it's hard."

"But I really would like to get dressed up by you. Because you've already made one so perfect for yourself! A helper, a healer, a friend, all frosted pink like a cupcake. I think that reflects your heart."

"Don't say things like that!! I don't know whether that's chuuni or hubris or... iunno. There's few things scarier to me than hurting someone in a way you can never notice or learn about."

"I think... getting to know someone is also about feeling for things, for responses. Feeling for joy and pain and seeing it reflect back and forth. So it's okay if things hurt a little bit sometimes, even if it's sad. Sadness is a part of people too. So you shouldn't hide your hurt, even if there's only a little bit of it." 

"....and. Um. Thank you. That means a lot to me. And you don't have to worry about me being anxious or anything like that, I'm just... getting over some things. This helps."

"... Oh. Well. 'In a way you can never learn about' is a fear I can get rid of." 'Chuuni or hubris' would make most people embarrassed; Persephone seems more 'contentedly melancholy'. She pulls her knees up against her chest and wraps her arms loosely around them.

"It is sort of scary, isn't it? When someone says 'I'm not sensitive to anything in particular', it feels like a minefield. What I mean is: I don't like it when people worry about me, or are scared of hurting me. Because I'm carrying a lot already. And then their worry or fear becomes something I have to carry, too. It'd be easier for me if they'd just let me pretend I'm invincible."

"It would be more honest to say: you would have to try really hard to hurt my feelings in a way worth feeling guilty about. So please don't be scared."

"I never really learned to hide anything! So you don't have to worry about that. I really am, almost always, just this serene and happy! Of course there are things that make me sad, or that are hard for me. But I'm happy to talk about those, sometime, as long as you promise not to fuss."

She holds out her hand, palm-up, towards Vittoria. Her smoke-shrouded face conveys a smile again. "I'm really glad I could help you, little star. That's what makes me happiest. You're helping me a whole bunch, too."

"...Okay."

She scoots closer, and then twirls and sit-rolls like an overactive, elegant worm, flowing into a regal half-kneel, taking Persephone's hand and turning it palm-side down, grasping it.

"If it's for a friend, I won't be scared at all. I'll take my fear and turn it into love, and love into the power that protects my friends. We'll wear our bleeding hearts on each other's sleeves, calm so the blood flows out slowly, light and bubbly so it doesn't weigh down a gram. So it lifts both our spirits just a bit. And I won't hide my prickly bits."

"Is that okay?"

Persephone laughs- musical, lighthearted, short. Her hand squeezes Vittoria's gently. Her head is tilted to one side; her eyes are shut as little smiling arcs of light. "Yes. It's okay. It's beautiful."