Post by Deleted on Mar 15, 2021 21:57:59 GMT -8
The door to Ursula Von Rossbach's private locker room explodes inward with a furious opening, slamming against the wall hard enough to damage the handle and crack the wall. Slamming it shut behind her, she stands there for a moment with her head lowered. If not for a slight quivering of her clenched fists, one would almost assume that she is a living statue.
With a loud explosion of sound, her fist finds a home buried in the door of an empty locker, which is then promptly ripped from the wall and hurled into the monitor on the other side of the room. She then gathers one of the metal benches, easily ripping one leg from it's bolted moorings on the floor and bending the entire aluminum frame into the shape of an inverted C. She then finally rips the cracked monitor from the far wall and repeatedly slams it into the bent bench until it falls into hundreds of pieces at her feet.
Her face is impassive, unfeeling, cold and at complete odds with her actions. To any that could have been looking upon her fit of rage, it would look as if a calculated act of pure chaos and not an emotional outburst, and yet it very much was.
"How could I have fallen for this?" She thought to herself as she dropped down upon the remaining bench, surrounded by the wreckage of her fury.
Her team was coordinated and prepared for a true war against opposition so half-hearted and egotistical that it should have torn itself apart. Instead here she is with egg in her face because the one element that seemed so certain that it would not participate, was able to capitalize on what was otherwise a meticulously planned, carefully orchestrated play that was going according to her design until that very moment.
Ursula had predicted the tension in the team, the ostracization of Jenni Drew, her lack of concern, the entire opposing team being a pack of jackals engaged in buffoonery while relying almost exclusively upon Lash Donohue's efforts. Everything had gone exactly as she predicted, except that one thing. This failure infuriates her beyond belief, as evident by the destruction she committed.
The Lady Terminator runs her fingers through her hair and across her half shaved scalp.
"I lead the battle. This is my responsibility," She says softly before rising and heading towards her private shower.
With a loud explosion of sound, her fist finds a home buried in the door of an empty locker, which is then promptly ripped from the wall and hurled into the monitor on the other side of the room. She then gathers one of the metal benches, easily ripping one leg from it's bolted moorings on the floor and bending the entire aluminum frame into the shape of an inverted C. She then finally rips the cracked monitor from the far wall and repeatedly slams it into the bent bench until it falls into hundreds of pieces at her feet.
Her face is impassive, unfeeling, cold and at complete odds with her actions. To any that could have been looking upon her fit of rage, it would look as if a calculated act of pure chaos and not an emotional outburst, and yet it very much was.
"How could I have fallen for this?" She thought to herself as she dropped down upon the remaining bench, surrounded by the wreckage of her fury.
Her team was coordinated and prepared for a true war against opposition so half-hearted and egotistical that it should have torn itself apart. Instead here she is with egg in her face because the one element that seemed so certain that it would not participate, was able to capitalize on what was otherwise a meticulously planned, carefully orchestrated play that was going according to her design until that very moment.
Ursula had predicted the tension in the team, the ostracization of Jenni Drew, her lack of concern, the entire opposing team being a pack of jackals engaged in buffoonery while relying almost exclusively upon Lash Donohue's efforts. Everything had gone exactly as she predicted, except that one thing. This failure infuriates her beyond belief, as evident by the destruction she committed.
The Lady Terminator runs her fingers through her hair and across her half shaved scalp.
"I lead the battle. This is my responsibility," She says softly before rising and heading towards her private shower.