Ami could only feel like this was slightly her fault. She should have realized that smashing through the floor without any forethought was bound to backfire. And that made her angry more than anything else. That, and Ami wanted to be in her apartment, bundled up in her expensive sheets. This place was getting stuffy and uncomfortable, all adding into her anger.

"Alright, I'm getting sick of this place, I don't feel like wasting any more time on you," she scoffs at the Watchman, flicking her hair back out of her face. For people who haven't met Ami until now are sure to believe she's some sort of stuck up rich girl.

So with that, Ami tried to use that first spell she had found before, trying to shoot lightning out of her fingertips in a most Palpatine-esque way.

[ roll: 7 ]