It's frustrating when you believe you know what you want, but don't have a clue how to get it. You wish you could rely on your friends to help you out but they have their own issues to handle today, so you might be more successful to set out on your own. There's no need to wait for the advice if it's not forthcoming now; just do what feels right in your heart and figure out the rest along the way.

What did that even mean?

Talia stared at her phone, starting to get sick of these dumb, vague horoscopes. Maybe it was time to find a new website. Especially since some of these were panning out to be lamer than expected.

Still, it WAS good advice nonetheless. After all, the whole "chase your dreams, don't rely on others" was what she was practically raised on. Her father being a successful lawyer and her mother being a successful baker meant she had some pretty accomplished shoes to fill.

Well, whatever. She had patrolling to do, and this time she wasn't going to be interrupted by horoscopes. Talia quietly tucked the phone into her subspace, and then ran to the nearest alley. It was always quiet in this alley, nobody lived on this side of the building because of how closely it was built next to the house next to it. It was squeezed just small enough that it was hidden from view. In other words, it was the perfect place to transform without anybody seeing her.

She penciled her tiny henshin pen out of the air and held it over her head, letting the cool rush of flames envelope her body as she called out, "Draconis power ... make up!"

Tonight she had planned to go explore her homeworld a little more, maybe kick around some of that red dirt she'd grown so fond of. She was incredibly thankful that senshi outfits washed themselves, or she would never get anything useful done at all. Supernatural laundry was the least of her collegiate responsibilities.

Sailor Draconis adjusted herself, rotated all her little trinkets and letting her sleeves fall into place. She really was beginning to hate these clunky red things. If she got to change her uniform ever, she was totally nixing these things.

From there, Draconis took off at a run, heading to some place she'd knew she'd be alone. It was an abandoned building, maybe a mile or two outside of the city limits. It was no trouble getting there, maybe leaving her out of breath by the time she arrived, but nothing too serious. It mostly just took a long time, rather than being anything exhaustive.

Once there, she carefully put down her packpack, which she'd filled with little newspaper clippings with faces on them. It wasn't exactly the highest quality of bad guy, but it would have to do for target practice.

Painstakingly, she taped the paper in various spots in the room. One stuck off an old car, another off a piece of wood that had fallen from the buttresses. Draconis thought this place must have been a car dealership or a warehouse at some point. Either way, she'd scouted out the place for a few weeks, and nobody seemed to come around ever. It was as empty as it got.

"That oughta do it," she said, slapping her hands together heartily. All her posters were happily posted, little angry faces and smiley faces staring back at her. Those were the negaverse.

Draconis took a step back, centering herself. She been coming here for a few days now, using the old warehouse to train. At first she'd been too wary to do anything more than scout the place out, but as time went on she became more and more comfortable being in plain sight. Eventually she even summoned attacks; literally no one was out here.

She calmed herself, rolling up her sleeves and began sending pulses of energy to her finger tips, feeling the heat rise from the base of her toes to the red of her fingernails. "Draconis ... Sea of FLAME," she screamed, mouth open wide as she spun, watching the flames lick the air around her in a beautiful display of power. If there was one thing she loved about being a senshi, it was the rush of power that came from her planet. Though she'd heard a lot of people be unsure about the power, insecure even, Draocnis reveled in it.

When the flames and smoke cleared, she hit the ground, panting and breathing hard. It still took a lot of power to exert that one, and she wasn't overly fond of the exhaustion that followed. Burnt remains, embers of the scraps of paper littered the air, making even the empty, innocent car lot seem like a battleground for the ages.

She was getting better at this, but it still took too much energy. She needed more time. She just ... wasn't sure how to get what she wanted.

Goddamn her horoscope.