<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-style: italic">“We can no longer stay like this, liked some whipped pet!”</span><br/><br/>The words cut through the white noise Hana had buried herself in when the beating and shouting began. For a moment, she was content to dismiss it as the ramblings of another poor sod finally having lost it. It happened every now and then. Nothing ever came of it. But something was slightly different about the tone of the voice; it was sharp and urgent and first and foremost a little <span style="font-style: italic">hopeful</span> underneath the desperation, as if its owner actually believed they would get anything out of it.<br/><br/>To Hana's surprise, it appeared like they would. Everything erupted in harsh shouting and blaring sirens, and the world was turned upside down as some idiot metalbender flipped the table Hana sat at. She shrieked in pain as she slammed her head unto the steel floor, lights flickering before her eyes. Through the legs of strangers, she saw a girl disappear through a door at the far end.<br/><br/>Well. If <span style="font-style: italic">she</span> could do it.<br/><br/>Hana surged to her feet to avoid the angry mob putting their boots through her face, a dizzyingly blue light forming around the edge of her left hand nails. If someone got close enough for her to hit them - and she thought she would, if necessary - they would be left with more than scrapes across their face. She elbowed her way through the crowd with her right arm, furiously heading for the door, her former shrieks evolving into a guttural laugh.</div>