[He doesn't register right away that the cup was there, thoughts and sounds were replaying through his mind. Everyone running everywhere, screams of terror, their bodies crushed beneath him. Ink was everywhere, and destruction created from just a mere flick of his finger. His lips go thin, blinking once, twice until he finally picks up the cup.] Thank you.
[His voice has gotten quiet, tired as he takes a small sip, the warmth helping to calm him a little. It still felt like he was in a cold sweat though. What's wrong with him...he couldn't tell if he was mortified or pleased by the massacre he had created, further nauseating him at the very idea.]
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[His voice has gotten quiet, tired as he takes a small sip, the warmth helping to calm him a little. It still felt like he was in a cold sweat though. What's wrong with him...he couldn't tell if he was mortified or pleased by the massacre he had created, further nauseating him at the very idea.]