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Sydney practically ran to her room then once the door is closed she screamed and she ripped the drab gray cover off her body then flung it at the wall. Once she was wearing at least under garments of her choosing she activated her sound system and video monitor with a vocal command bringing up a Taekwondo kata set to music and began mirroring the girl centered in the video her lean lithe form rippling with genetically enhanced muscles.

Her body another aspect of her curse didn’t even need stretching or warming up as she performed the war dance almost perfectly and should she have been entered in the competition would have garnered at the very least a bronze. Her kicks and hands snapped with the authority of a mistress of the art as she went through smooth transitions from spinning back fist to somersault kick then into a rapid combination of jumping kicks and slashing fists in the leopard style used by the olympic team performer she mimicked.

It is the ultimate expression of violence and anger displayed in the powerful body language begun 2,300 years ago on the Asian peninsula thrusting like a lover towards Japan its hereditary enemy and cousin and she uses it to let her body scream at full power and fury. She knows they had offered to teach her such arts but she’s witnessed their sessions and was afraid her probability effect might lash out mistaking focus for intent opening the floor beneath their feet and swallowing them in an avalanche of concrete and steel so she had been trying to learn on her own by copy catting what she can observe.

Her training as a dancer and her body’s natural grace made such things possible but even she knew it was mostly useless in actual combat because it taught no lesson in hand to hand tactics meaning only her Black cat guardian could help her win against an experienced and high ranking normal; against a meta she’d  only survive by those whiskers. 

Practice was not why she did what she did, she knew if she stopped she’d cry and the idea made her boil to know that she’d let things get to her. Sweat began to coat her body and fly off her in a fine mist with each move staining the wall and making the monitor look as if had being caught in the dew. Her skin shimmered with the oils released with her sweat and more viscosus her breathing was smooth despite her effort her cardio barely topping 95 but even then she began to feel what people call the burn as her body tapped its fight or flight reserves.

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[center]Doctor Myers office[/center]
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The Doctor sat at her desk amazed at the fury of her favorite subject and it pleased her that it showed how right she was about the murderer scene affecting Sydney and wondered if she should have her placed on mood stabilizers. She was not one of the fighters in the Tower but the pink haired girl was still a meta and her body still developing. The Guards took a more relaxed pose around her than they did the others but they were just being sloppy; Sydney’s power physically was more than a match for them and exceeding them in endurance fueled as it is by her youth.

Still as disturbing the display of anger she couldn’t help but admire her body and even feel a twinge of jealousy over her youth and grace and was shocked when she sees one of those long legs suddenly lashed forward crushing the 60” monitor screen causing the fire alarm to go off instantly because of the toxic smoke issued by the abused electronics. 

[hr] [center]Sydney’s room[/center][hr]

Sydney dropped to the floor less than a second after she kicked the screen her ankle throbbing in pain and then she cursed for dual reasons the first because she knew the Minders would burst in and see her on the floor in her underwear and the second because she’d cut her foot.

She had twenty seconds of peace if it could be called that before they rushed in with fire gear and power damping equipment in case they needed to subdue her; she just held her wrists out knowing as a precaution they would cuff her with the power dampers and waited.