Ask for something more comfortable than chains

Velvet Vixen wriggles slightly in Madame Mirage’s arms, the glowing silver chains binding her writhing just enough to hint at discomfort.

“As much as I love being gift-wrapped,” she says with a smirk, “these chains are kind of digging in. Any chance you’ve got something softer in your bag of tricks?”

Mirage hums thoughtfully.

“You want softer, do you?”

With a flourish, she sets Vixen gently on her feet, cape brushing dramatically around her ankles as she raises her wand. She taps the chains once with its tip, and in a shimmer of violet light, they unravel and reform as plush, deep purple velvet ropes—each one still wrapped snugly but no longer biting at her limbs.

Velvet Vixen gives an experimental tug and raises an impressed eyebrow.

“Okay, yeah… this is way better.”

Then, with a playful smile, she leans her head against Mirage’s shoulder, dramatically swooning.

“But really… did you have to put me down for that? I was kind of enjoying being held like a princess.”

Mirage chuckles, running a hand through Vixen’s tousled hair.

“Darling, I’d love to carry you everywhere—but I need a free hand for the wand. It’s where all the magic lives.”

She says it so casually, with no awareness of the slip in her words.

But Velvet Vixen hears it loud and clear.

Her eyes widen just a fraction behind her mask—her mind clicking into gear. That was it. The wand.

She needs it to cast. No wand, no magic.

Velvet Vixen’s heartbeat quickens—not from the ropes or the villainess’s arms or the low lighting, but from something far more exhilarating:

Opportunity.