The alcohol stung, but it was easier to swallow than the sight of Thomas before him.  Mica pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to straighten his thoughts as Thomas demanded he sit again. Mica ignored him, unease creeping up his  spine at the mention of dark magic. While Mica certainly had no interest in any dark and dangerous shit, he might actually prefer it over the unknown. At least then he'd know what he was up against. Regardless, he wasn't ruling out sudden insanity just yet.<br/><br/>"The dark magic thing was a joke. I'm not entirely sure how I got here, but I think I know why I'm here."<br/><br/>A flare of emotions pinched in Mica's chest, and suddenly he was anxious. "Oh yeah?" he asked hotly. "And why's that?" The wet look Thomas gave him cut him to his core. He faltered, his own expression cracking under his brother's mutual display of distress.<br/><br/><br/>"You're wasting your time," Thomas scolded, "on all of this."<br/><br/>"--Wha-<span style="font-style: italic">what?</span>"<br/><br/>"--"And that's why I came, to tell you to stop being such a pussy."<br/><br/>Mica stared at him, floored. There were several beats of silence, Mica's face growing increasingly redder. Then he exploded, "You fucking jackass! You can't do this-- you can't just come back like this-- you-- you<span style="font-style: italic">left</span>me, you left me for a stupid party and I had to deal with shit all on my own! And you fucking come back<span style="font-weight: bold">from the dead</span>to tell me<span style="font-style: italic">it's not good enough?</span>GET OUT." His shot glass went flying through the air, whooshing through Thomas' body and smashing into the floor. Tears were streaming down his face, his hands shaking. Funny, he hadn't realized he was crying. Or throwing things for that matter.<br/><br/>He glanced down at his hands, they didn't feel like his own. Shock and regret coiled in his muscles. Since when did get angry like this?