Fusing clothing and Dust is a delicate task

“I must say, establishing ourselves in this city has been smoother than I had hoped.” Cinder thought out loud as she put the finishing touches on the embroidery of her new dress.

“Yeah.” Emerald agreed unnecessarily, “So all that’s left is to get that gang downtown on your side, right? Then we start working for the next step?”

“Yes...” Cinder confirmed absently, “Those stuffed suit goons should fall in line in short order. All it takes,” She stood, holding up her finished dress, “Is a little show of .”

Emerald looked the dress over, “It looks good.”

Cinder scoffed at the sycophancy, “Any simple little hausfrau can make a piece of clothing look good, it takes an artist to make it effective.” The gold-eyed mastermind lectured as she stripped off her old dress.

Emerald flushed to see her boss brazenly divest down to her underwear in front of her, before reluctantly turning her face away, “Y-Yeah, I guess. It’s really cool by the way, you using Dust in your clothes, very old-school.”

“It is an artform and weapon passed down from the early days of civilization because of its subtlety, beauty, and deadliness,” Cinder crooned as she slid her new dress on, “That few still appreciate the old art merely showcases their inferiority, and leaves them more defenseless against it.” She struck a pose, and the patterns on her sleeves and sides glowed with energy.

Cinder nodded, satisfies, before picking up her swords and turning to the door “Now a stress test, to acclimate before taking to the field.”

Emerald scurried after Cinder as she headed for the roof. Once on top of the abandoned building they had stopped to rest in before forging connections in town, Cinder centered herself, gathering energy within and around herself.

The patterns once again shone, even brighter now, and when Cinder opened her eyes they blazed like orbs of molten metal. With frightful suddeness she launched into a series of acrobatic maneuvers, dancing around the roof, trailing fire in her wake.

She slashed the air, a heavy heat haze surrounding her as the Dust embroidery lit up even brighter, fabric smoldering at the edges. She then combined her blades into a bow and formed glass arrows out of loose, superheated Dust fragments, rapidly firing a salvo into the air, only for them to arc, come down on the ground around her, and shatter with an explosion. Emerald had to shield her face from the plumes of flame.

When it died down, Cinder released a steadying breath and stretched, feeling loosened by the little workout. “Impressive craftsmanship, wouldn’t you say, pet?” She cooed at Emerald with a smirk.

The green-haired thief simply stared as if stupefied, a state of emotion Cinder took as natural in her presence, utterly oblivious to the damage her unrestrained use of her powers had caused to the very article of clothing she had made to harness them, and to the amount of flesh she now bared before her young, worshipful protege.