[She takes a breath and looks a little rueful. This is hard for her: directing it, making it go where she wants it to. At SHIELD they'd given her a gun; no clip, no bullets, but the act of point and click, having something to channel the energy through had made it easier. But it had been a cheat.
So when she reaches for the vase, there's blue light from her fingertips, but it makes a spiderweb of the air, branching and forking. Destroying the vase isn't difficult, even if it's not clean, but when she tries to pull it back in, she fails.
It's like lightning in a snow globe for a moment, even as she reaches out to try and catch it. There's frustration. Globes of energy are easier, but creating a clean line, an open connection between her power and the world around her and controlling the flow of it-- it was difficult. Too many connections, paths, the way the air sings.]
no subject
So when she reaches for the vase, there's blue light from her fingertips, but it makes a spiderweb of the air, branching and forking. Destroying the vase isn't difficult, even if it's not clean, but when she tries to pull it back in, she fails.
It's like lightning in a snow globe for a moment, even as she reaches out to try and catch it. There's frustration. Globes of energy are easier, but creating a clean line, an open connection between her power and the world around her and controlling the flow of it-- it was difficult. Too many connections, paths, the way the air sings.]