[ The feeling of Figaro's magic piling up on her hand makes a feeling like pins and needles shoot all the way up her hand and she can't suppress an unpleasant shudder. The fact that she's feeling anything at all instead of just dead, empty magic should probably be taken as progress but if it always feels as unpleasant as this, then she's not fully sure if she wants to progress any further.
But... Figaro's hands are warm when they close over hers and as she relaxes her hold on her magic, that deadened sensation gradually relents as well and she manages a smile. ]
I'm certain your sugar can do a lot of things, but I think that's going a little far, don't you?
[ She's not vain enough to pretend she's anything but bedraggled in a state like this – but with Figaro's magic, maybe she can at least look presentable. She pops the sugar cube into her mouth and while her tongue cringes at the sweetness, she lets it melt on her tongue for a second before swallowing. Like Figaro's hands, it's warm. ]
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But... Figaro's hands are warm when they close over hers and as she relaxes her hold on her magic, that deadened sensation gradually relents as well and she manages a smile. ]
I'm certain your sugar can do a lot of things, but I think that's going a little far, don't you?
[ She's not vain enough to pretend she's anything but bedraggled in a state like this – but with Figaro's magic, maybe she can at least look presentable. She pops the sugar cube into her mouth and while her tongue cringes at the sweetness, she lets it melt on her tongue for a second before swallowing. Like Figaro's hands, it's warm. ]