[It's a nice, quiet enough evening in the dressingroom. And Tyki is taking advantage of the blissful peace. He's wandering down hallways, looking at clocks and watches, out far past when he'd usually be resting. And everything is well enough, until he comes across a radio that's been left out. Some lovely little classical music station, playing all
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W-what...
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[flinching and kind of just standing to the side, watching.]
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He simply stands for a moment, arm still outstretched towards the destruction, breathing hard.]
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...Never was a fan of Vivaldi.
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One of which that shatters loud and clear around Tykis thankfully quick reflexes to avoid becoming a little flatter than is healthy.
Also, give him a moment. Trying to determine if that was an earthquake or not.]
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Got your powers back, I see.
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*Reaching to touch him on the shoulder*
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...Hate Vivaldi.
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