The thing about map apps is that... well, no, it's a good point actually. Eventually Cinders is gonna get bored and frustrated enough to drop a marker in the gym and if you look at the total number of lives helped today by staff members, she'll crush Euna easy. [i]Easy.[/i] It's just that? For people like this poor girl right here? Setting the rally point is about as helpful as a high five for a drowning man. 

She feels twitchy as she approaches the store. Well no, that's the wrong word for it. Runner's high? The sense of giddy euphoria permeates every part of her being that still has nerve endings, and phantom limb pushes that through to the rest of her. The need to bounce up and down as she walks, and then the need to jog instead of walking. The hum that builds in her throat until she's full on singing the leitmotif of [i]Burn, My Sword[/i]. It feels good, it feels good, it feels good! Letting her target points request themselves solved the rule-breaking guilt issue in seconds. Adding data collection and organization twigged that dork ass part of her brain that wasted half of her resting hours on spreadsheet management.

Actually, she should -- well. No time now. The only downside here is that the barricade she's breaking down first is only manned by three people. She bends her back as she moves forward. Pulls her arm against her shoulder and rotates on her hips, and then repeats on the other side. Taps her toes on the ground and then bends over to touch them once she's standing upright again. 

This might just be a warmup but that doesn't negate the importance of stretching, ok? Loose and limber is a mentality as much as anything; even for cybernetic systems the benefits of letting all the individual motors and synthetic ligaments and joints build up to full combat speed is noteworthy. If this were Euna getting ambushed it'd be one thing, but she's got a marathon to run here. It's not a sprint at all. Whether she should expect to win any fights she gets in or not, the way she makes this all turn south in an instant is by refusing to take it seriously.

So when she reached flying spin kick range, she's good to go. Optimal condition! But she passes up the flashy instant kill. Ex-cop vision, you know? The attack vector is too likely to send one of these jackasses through a window, and if she breaks property that's where the real trouble starts. Best to hold off on the flashy stuff for in case she winds up cornered at any point today. Wow. It's... not a great look how much she's already thinking about more violence, is it? This is work, Euna. Try to be less happy about it please.

But she's still smiling. She's still humming. When her palm strikes the back of a skull, it is the sound of Justice. She employs rapid, disorienting strikes that don't commit her stance to begin with. That way she's able to bounce between opponents with a minimum of downtime in between: all of the interim is spent building momentum and transferring from one space to the other. She boxes an ear, crushes a solar plexus, and rises up the body again to deliver a flat palm strike to the throat as if it were a single step in a dance. 

A man a fair step larger than her throws a punch, but his heart's not in it the way that hers is. He's too startled by the need, not ready to escalate all the way to street brawling with someone who doesn't look enough like the girl he's actually here to bully. And even if she did, maybe not even then. She steps under and into the cross up, plants her feet, and shoulder checks him into a trash can. Half breath, recover form, and leap! She drops a knee into his stomach, flips over him into the Mount, and smashes her fist through the pavement next to his ear. Even through the mask, even through the blindfold, the smile on her face reaches her eyes and it is giddy. She slides her elbow into his neck, squeezes her ribs between her steel thighs until she feels the air leave his system, and rolls off with a kick to the chin. That's two, out.

Last one! Up she goes back onto her feet, careful to roll on the shoulder that will not spill the contents of her backpack all over the street and rises into a dojo-perfect side kick. Pop, roll, retract, follow up stomp to shatter the toes. Cover scream with hand, headbutt, slip behind in the moment where their vision is made of fuzzy stars, deliver elbow to the back of the neck. Total disorientation, temporary loss of consciousness with minimal risk of concussion.

Hero of justice, ok? Hero of justice. If they're not gonna bring enough metaphorical firepower to stretch her limits, she owes even these dickwads the decency of letting them wake up in their own beds tomorrow morning. But god. But [i]god![/i] This feels so good! She pumps a fist and slashes her arm through the air in victory before remembering what she's really here for. Violent intent sheds off her like snakeskin in an instant, and she waves through the window of the convenience store.

"Hey! Heya! Are you ok? Can you talk? You need any help getting out of there? Think you can make it home, or do you need help getting somewhere safe?"

She pulls her hood down for a moment so she can straighten her hair. In this moment, it feels better than sex.

"Oh! Um. N-no, I mean, like, take your time yeah? Everything's gonna be fine now, I promise."