A smirk played out on Rroy's lips as he took Eleanor's wrath. Oh he had riled this one up good. Too bad her eyes said it all. He could drink in her fear for years. And, if given the chance, he would. Sadly, it appeared that others were very interested in stopping him. The one woman, nearly identical to Eleanor, was the first to break her stance. Ah, the sister. His lips curled up more.

For a brief moment, his world paused as he gaze shifted to Nieko who looked more brokenhearted than heroic. Odd, why is he not jumping to protect his- Rroy's thoughts were cut-short when a blinding light came from above. Had he been more prone to reacting, he might have hissed at Order came down to him. Instead, Rroy merely turned his gaze away and matched the dull looking angel's expression -- nothingness.

"Why would I ever dream of hurting my favorite toy?" His hold on Eleanor fell and he moved to place a hand on his hip. A rather gay move, if he could say so himself, but it was just a part of his charm. He was all about being a contradiction and confusing people. Besides, Rroy always had a dramatic flair for he was one for boisterous gestures, grand entrances, and dazzling magic tricks. As his hands rest on his hips, they drummed up and down, a sign of angst or annoyance. "Have you come to scold me? Or take me away?" One moment Rroy was there and the next he was gone. Every time he vanished, a dying cloud of smoke would dance among the air. Its form would twist and turn, eventually collapsing into itself and vanishing completely. When he reappeared, this time beside his opposite, there would be no sign of his moments until he was fully there. No shadows clawed at him as he appeared either -- it seemed to be something that only appeared when he left, though there's no solid evidence to back this up.

He sighed, before his attention moved across the way to the other faces. They were all so bleak looking, so sad and miserable. His red orbs seemed to soften, just some, as he felt for them. There was a time, long ago, where he hadn't been so cruel at dark. Sure, the chaos laid dormant in him, but it wasn't brought on until he truly experienced pain, suffering, lose, and death. He could vividly recall those days were he was happier and prone to fear. The days were he didn't want to taint his hands with blood. Those days he dreaded death. And now? Now? Heh, it was hardly something to worry a lip over. He had killed many, some with remorse, but most with pride and joy. There was just something about killing that really pleased him. Was it the way the body split? The way the blood splattered? Or was it the screaming cries as he tore someone limb from limb?

His expression darkened again.

It was the fear. He loved the fear. The sheer look of panic that flashed in the eyes of his victims. They all had one thing in common. After pleading and just before he took their life, their minds would replay their guilt and remorse in life. Rroy enjoyed watching that movie and seeing how people justified their own death while they were consumed with fear. It was beautiful, that act of selflessness before the fall. Sometimes, if the guilt they bore was too much, too strong, Rroy would weep as those were the most beautiful of deaths. The deaths that truly made chaos worth creating.

His smile faded as he turned toward Alacor and shrugged lightly. "If you don't require my presence anymore, I'll be going. I have things to destroy and chaos to create." Depending on Alacor's response, Chaos would either linger longer or vanish in a cloud of smoke that looked, felt, and sounded just like a nuke being dropped on a small town. Its blast was strong enough to cause everyone to lose their footing and it probably burned the throats.