[He was asking about both the massacre and the weird shoujo sparkles, but he doesn't comment on Kohaku's focus on only the former in his reply. That can be handled later. The massacre is a focal point. He scowls as he lets his gaze drift over the pile of motionless, torn-up bodies before flicking it tentatively back to him, hoping against hope that revolting weird shit won't happen again.
His words are oddly calm, just like Kohaku's earlier.]
Scum, huh?
[As much as he hates the NPCs, as much as he notices the weapons some of them had been carrying, he can't help letting the embers of that slow-burning fury regain some of their heat.]
Talk about overkill. This is on the level of soaking an anthill with liquid explosives and blowing the entire thing to China just because they bit your fucking ankles too many times.
[he'd stopped just past the corner of the hallway upon spotting the scene before him, but now he walks forward slowly, each step resounding with every move. his gaze is narrowed. oh no, Kohaku, someone doesn't approve of your little hissy fit.]
no subject
His words are oddly calm, just like Kohaku's earlier.]
Scum, huh?
[As much as he hates the NPCs, as much as he notices the weapons some of them had been carrying, he can't help letting the embers of that slow-burning fury regain some of their heat.]
Talk about overkill. This is on the level of soaking an anthill with liquid explosives and blowing the entire thing to China just because they bit your fucking ankles too many times.
[he'd stopped just past the corner of the hallway upon spotting the scene before him, but now he walks forward slowly, each step resounding with every move. his gaze is narrowed. oh no, Kohaku, someone doesn't approve of your little hissy fit.]