"I suppose it does, yeah.  I'm not going to slack just because I can do something tomorrow.  But I have tomorrow, if I can seize it.  And when I'm motivated...I can seize quite a lot."

"Big words from a teenager. Hey, guess how old I am?"

"Cursory guess of thirty or three-hundred, more detailed analysis occurring forthwith."

Time to count the frills!  (And blue the stripe.)

Well, her wand is very fancy, her skirt has five overlapping layers with lots of embroidery, her gloves and thighhigh socks-

She detransforms and stands there in T-shirt and jeans, whistling faux-innocently.

"Definitely still leaning towards the three hundred estimate, or perhaps, because you're expecting to surprise me, a thousand.  Not many make it that long.  ...then again, you have something you call ambrosia.  You could date back to mythological times, if I'm willing to long-jump to conclusions based on that evidence."

"Well, I'm glad I'm so impressive! The real answer's a lot lower. I won't give you an exact number but 20th century. I'm not an old soul who it all blurs together for, and a percent of a percent adds up to a hundred eventually, you see what I'm saying?"

"I think so, I suppose.  I just think that you can get rerolls worth having.  That you can...mm.  That there's more than inevitable death.  That we can stop rolling those dice."

"A good hope, I suppose."

Sigh.

"Come on, let's have a nice lighthearted spar, end on a high note."

"Sure.  Under what rules?"

"I'll only use smoke grenades and my rosethorn gauntlet spell, you can use whatever. To first unwinding. First blood, that is."

"Then so be it."

Rose Weed re-transforms, indulging in a brief series of poses as the raiment washes over her dayclothes, then starts prancing off towards the sparring rooms!

Said sparring rooms have a lot in common with the fire practice room, but a lot more... Damage, that seems to have been mostly not cleaned up yet. Missing chips of concrete, scorch marks...

That makes sense, she thinks.

Luna has a very simple plan.  It starts with a water globe, and ends with Sylvia as the best defense.

"Ready? Fight!"

And then she stands there. Grinning.

....And in a twist of thought, the plan changes; Ophelia causes Rose's shadow to spear up towards her, even as Sylvia summons a defense!

Controlling the shadow at a distance like that is clumsier and slower, and might feel like something to the target, because Rose Weed twirls to the side to avoid the mass of animate shadow and starts tossing out smoke tulips, still moving and dodging. Two, four, six, eight, ten, twelve, fourteen... The arena is quickly full of hissing, floral-scented, multicolor smoke. No strike comes at her.

Then Sylvia shall take advantage of their mutual obscurement to practice turtling, summoning a steel mesh -

- as Luna exfiltrates water to the ceiling, ready to drop like a hammer on her enemies!

She doesn't really expect Rose to not look up, but she does expect that Rose wouldn't expect her to look up; it's a common failing, tactically-speaking.

-There's a flash of movement to the side, a swirl in the smoke, footsteps echoing.

She'll wait...

...but if Sylvia's iron dome can be held without her direct attention...

...then Clara gently lifts from the ground, ready to fucking dodge when the strike comes!

The dome will hold, once manifested like this... So long as it's not disrupted.

The strike comes two seconds after that feint. Rose runs in along the dome, lashing out to leave a long gash shredding through the dome sending winding lines of thorned stems along it, making it hurt to maintain what's left of the structure. Rose's slight smug fades back into the riot of smoke as she backsteps back into her smoke field.

Well that doesn't matter -