Ophelia's morning routine was always fairly basic. Wake up, avoid leering at her roommate, shower, brush teeth, dress in bathroom because roommate and go to classes like a well behaved little mutant. Today was no exception, until Ash passed her in the halls and told her that it was her day to work on practicing using her ability. Not exactly what she was in the mood for, but at least she got to destroy things and get out of Miss Morgan's English class. It wasn't that she had anything against the teacher, in fact she quite enjoyed sitting and talking with her, it was just English was a confusing language and the grammar structure gave her a headache.

Stepping into the training room, she removed her shoes and socks, a preference so she could keep herself grounded and focused on what she was doing. Whatever was going to keep her from blowing out a wall of another school. Ophelia took in a deep breath, trying to shove the memory of that surprise party from her memory. If she shoved it hard enough, she was positive that she would be able to make it not happen. That she could some how go back in time and keep from hurting the friends that were refusing to text her back or return her calls. That she would be able to be around them again and prove to them that it was a mistake and an accident. No matter how many times her analytical brain told her it was impossible, she still tried. Ophelia did some stretches, not because her ability was particularly physical, but because it ate up time and she really hated practicing her gift.

A gift.

That was what her papi referred to it as. He would talk about how special she was and how she had to be grateful for the opportunities presented to her. He gave her a longer and angrier version of that speech when she was asked to leave Primrose. Coming to Phalanx was worth it though, she blew out some air and closed her eyes. Phalanx felt more like home than any country she had lived in, felt more comfortable than the stuffy halls of Primrose. Phalanx brought her a family. Turning to the small boom box on the floor, she turned it to a reasonable radio station and noted how busted it was. She could only imagine what kind of person destroyed the radio over the years. She would probably end up being one of them if she avoided this any longer. Ophelia took a look at the practice dummy and started to bop along to the music from the duct tapped and bruised up boom box.

Reaching out she was able to feel the sound waves electrifying her skin. She tried to harness it, feeling the sound waves coil around her arm and squeeze with a familiar pain that she missed. Unleashing it forward, she felt the deep warmth in her stomach of pride as she watched the practice dummy fly back into the wall. It was addictive. Feeling that powerful and having that much destruction living inside of her. She flexed her fingers, stepping forward to try it again.

There were supposed to be other people practicing, she mused as she set the dummy back up straight. Joan Jett wailed in the background, not a bad way to spend the day.