this is the power of GAY SEX
Mythra's a loose cannon, tight fuse, whatever you want to call it. She knows everything, except what she doesn't know, and when she knows that she doesn't know something, she's quick to the trigger of finding out why. Demanding that knowledge, if need be.
She's the Aegis, or whatever you want to call it. She is the most powerful Blade in Alrest, bar Malos, because as much as she'd like to say that Malos is the one hindered by his lack of a Driver, she knows she's being held back by the faux-literal ball-and-chain she's got.
But Malos doesn't have any competition, any comparison. Malos just is as Malos does, which is whatever the fuck he wants. They're both tuned for raw power output, a lighting bolt in hell, construction by destruction by interference. Through the thick fog of adolescent resonance, they can always sense each other, somewhere out there. Spite-politely, they avoid each other's dreams.
The Aegis is not a precision instrument. Never has been, never will be. Doesn't want to be, won't be made to be.
So why is a Flesh Eater who freely admits to his own impotence dishing out more damage than a godchild's orbital laser?
Striking into a fight, Mythra's Ray of Punishment should be able to easily outdeal Minoth's respective payout of punishment, but it doesn't. It's Minoth's trademark fashion of switch-in stance that gets the enemy off-balance, while Mythra can only capitalize on an already dazed monster taking a turn through the air to bash it down into the earth (or off a cliff, if she's likely). Their quickest-loading special attacks are equally powerful, but Minoth's hits more - without taking aggro!
Hell, he can just...buff himself. Whenever he wants! Addam lets him roll back to rear guard to do it almost too willingly. It's like recreation for those two. As opposed to the fucking massive burden Addam seems to see Mythra as.
At least Hadron Impact clears. Stacks the target with more status effects, doesn't hit half as much (compensating for something, boys?) but crits more, the works. It clears, for sure. Someone's has to! It brings the rare occasion Addam actually seems properly awed by Mythra's powers, instead of disdainfully shunning them.
(But he still likes Escorpión more. Hence: "This one's for Torna!" Like, no it's not? It has nothing to do with Torna. You have no idea where Minoth's from, and you weren't even born here! So can it, huh?)
Eventually, it all just gets to be too much. Covered in swipes and bites, hair ragged and tunic ripped, tiara lamely slipping, Mythra stalks up to Minoth, looking absolutely pristine as he shakes down his ponytail and redoes it, and grabs his freshly-sheathed gun out of the right holster (well, her right, his left - stage right, is it? fuck if she knows).
"Going somewhere?"
"To kill someone?" Mythra responds automatically, head down. The days with Addam used to be so full of nothing and nonsense that when the "merry band" started kicking up, she kept stiff track of what banter sprang up when almost without thinking about it, but she's lost track of when she learned this particular snippet.
She can feel Minoth's eyes, cool and non-judgemental, on her, and she hates it. They're all annoying, but he's annoying because he isn't - because he thinks he isn't, anyway.
"I will need those back," he says eventually. "To kill someone."
Every facet on Mythra's face is squinched to a point when she looks up into Minoth's. "What's the trick?"
"Trick?"
"Come on," she cranks her right arm, having palmed the gun over to her left (and accidentally flung out the knife blade). "There's no way you should be dealing more damage than me."
"None?"
Now he doesn't look so innocent.
"Haven't you heard, Mythra?"
Ugh. Well, it's not like she didn't want to interrogate Addam next.
"'Let's try it my way?'" the prince queries, croons, palm comfortable on Minoth's shoulder that doesn't even think about a shrug.
"Yeah. I've heard. Let's try my way: shut up?" Mythra offers in return, botching the quote.
Minoth shakes his head. "Affinity is as affinity does, my friend." Um. Rude? She's not.
"Not for me, apparently? So. Explain. Give. Something."
Addam and Minoth share a look. Mythra definitely doesn't like it, but then she hasn't liked anything about this so far. She can't forget to be angry! Not that that'll be too hard.
Minoth puts on his academic voice. "You obviously understand that I'm able to perform at a higher level due to affinity, yes?"
"That's usually how it works," says Mythra, feeling stupider by the second. Does it really matter, after all? Who hits what? They are all working together to defeat Malos. It's not like he's going to stand there and peel all the others off, one by one, until only she remains in a one-on-one duel, sans Driver.
...well. He might. And in that case, she really really really doesn't want to hear anything the blowjob brothers here have to say.
Pulling herself away from the decadent distraction that is gnawing on her lip, Mythra blinks. Are they waiting for her to say something? A historical landmark moment, if so.
She rewinds back to the last thing she can remember saying. "That's usually how it works...?"
"That is how it works," Minoth affirms. Something in his jaw is twitchy, too. "I don't know if Addam here has taught you about the birds and the bees, or the Blades and the Bunnits--"
This is where Mythra cuts him off, just because she wanted to hear the fourth b-word (and the fifth one is bullshit!): "Not relevant. At all. Stop talking."
That twitchy, jumpy jaw muscle has turned wicked. "Oh? So you know what happens when a Driver and a Blade love each other very much?"
Call it a Lightspeed Flurry, the way Mythra hatchets on darting away. "Not listening!! Nonononononononooooooo-!"
"Come now, Mythra!" Addam calls. "Surely you noticed that the ether line goes through Minoth's crotch?"
Fitting, then, that Minoth's broader damage output comes to bear in elbowing Addam, with true indignance and irritation, square in the chest.