There were tears in his eyes- no, in her eyes- in... in someone’s eyes? He flinched at the bitter ink sliding through his mind, breaking into fractal patterns in his vision, and found his balance again with one hand bracing on Stormy’s shoulder. He should thank her, for helping him, for caring even, but the words wouldn’t come.

[color=bc8dbf]“How are feeling sugar plum? How can I help?”[/color] She was too kind, he felt a sudden urge to protect her, to make those tinges of alabaster unease and buzzing fright just go away. He couldn’t though, he didn’t know how.

He shot a glance towards the others, and spoke with a weak voice; [color=#d5c7b1]”I can taste their pain,”[/color] he admitted to her, his own fear of the implications of that easily heard in his worried tone. [color=#d5c7b1]”It hurts,”[/color] he mumbled.

Then he noticed her mask still in hand, whispering to him- no, to her, he was just eavesdropping. He didn’t know what it was saying, but it sounded like a song… [color=#d5c7b1]”Xi's singing for you…”[/color] he commented aloud, a little amazed. [color=#d5c7b1]”Mine ate me,”[/color] he finished the thought, a mix of uneasy emotions settling in his gut. Then he realized what he said, having not intended to say it aloud; [color=#d5c7b1]”Sorry.”[/color] He was doing a lot of apologizing, and muttering, but he was just so off balance it was hard to step out of his current expression. Whatever that meant.

He rubbed his forehead with his sleeve, but that didn’t help the thrashing warmth of crimson and writhing grasp of strobes, twisting angrily in his head. They tasted like smoke. He glanced over to where things had heated up again, and wished they would calm down, that everyone would stop freaking out so his brain could chill for two seconds.