[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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[flinching and kind of just standing to the side, watching.]
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Personally I don't subscribe to the philosophy of letting enemies- present or past- touch me. Just saying.
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[turning his attention to the hole in the wall.] Overkill much?
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...Could have been bigger. Just got my powers back.
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Lucky bastard. [a little bitter here, though not towards him.]
So. Why the reaction... with the music?
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Not really. It's useless power, if all I can do with it is throw fits and destroy property. [Yeah, he notices. But he's not sure what to say so he says nothing about it at all.]
...Bad memories attached to it. I just... I remembered. And I felt everything all over again.
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Felt? What. [not going to press if he refuses, probably.]
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[He's clenching his fists now. Shaking hard again, eyes dark.] It felt like... Like... [Shakes his head.] Like I'd be cursing you with information you'd rather not have if I spoke about it more.
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[but...] I'd also rather not know how my kid sister's lungs look like on the inside, but they let me see that anyway. Try.
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...Did you kill them? Give me a second. It's disgusting.
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[deep breath and avoiding thinking about how that's an awful lot like Cyril's powers.]
Sounds like a good reason. Damn good reason.
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