Every time my family and I walk into a restaurant, and I see my dad getting some unsweetened tea, I can't help but wonder how sane he truly is

Emarcee speaks up.

"ROIGHT THEN! A murder has occurred. What are the clues, and who are the suspects?"

He said this, his spear drawn out in a relaxed yet prepared position, lightning subtly arcing across his body in various places. The gaze from the opaque lens on his mask betrayed no emotion, leaving only his posture and the tone of his voice for others to go off on when reading him. The Great Being gazed upon his surroundings, seemingly looking through the walls to see if anyone was thinking of sneaking up on him.

Above all, however, he was prepared to be attacked in some way. The dust particles in the air around Emarcee were curiously, completely frozen, and he stood in the middle of the room, prepared in an instant to lash out against anyone who gave him a bad vibe.

Above all, however, he was anxious to get back to his room, and eat a left-over empanada he had brought from the cafeteria.

"Most of us don't have all day, so I suggest we go ahead and start putting our heads together before it's too late."

I had over-sweetened tea yesterday. it was delicious.