It was hardly unusual for her to hit things when she was upset. If the citadel was old enough for her power to work on it, it’d probably scream in agony from how often she slammed the doors or punched the walls or just kicked objects around in her room. It was also hardly unusual to hear a lot of noise from her room as well; whether is was her blasting her music or screaming in frustration because Dear God She Filled Out This Form Not Even Two Days Ago Why Do You Need Another One?!
Though, today, it was too much. Everything that wasn’t nailed down to the floor or just too heavy for her was knocked over or flung to the opposite side of the room. The chair she threw was fucking broken now. Papers were scattered everywhere, including the letter which she decided to ball, unfurl then tear into pieces--some sections big enough to read and others just unable to be torn anymore--and thrown in a random direction. If she was still in Tokyo, she wouldn’t have bothered screaming her frustrations away, in fear that she’d ruin her vocal chords and end her barely started career prematurely. Now, her voice was raw.
The worst part of the whole situation was that she knew this was all completely unnecessary. She was being stupid. Unnecessarily stupid.
She dropped to the corner of the room, furthest from where her desk--and the letter--were. A loud, heavy sigh that irritated her throat forced itself out of her once she was on the floor.
She was finished, for now anyway.